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#but miraculously decided against it

theartofnieriel · 1 year

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Nathalie Sancoeur, “Heartbreak”

She emits a silent scream only heard by those who suffered a heartbreak. The scream has the effect of bringing back the feelings the person felt in that moment and has them relive it in a neverending loop.

reblog, don’t repost. thank you

#Gabriel uses her feelings against her breaking her heart but in doing so he creates an unstoppable akuma not even he can control #or future hawkmoth creates her #you decide #nathalie sancoeur #miraculous ladybug #miraculous the tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous fanart #original art #Original design #Character Concept #drew this in january 2022 glad to have seen a new akumatization for nathalie in s5 #Nieriel #2022

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eldritchmusing · 1 year

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Okay, to dive right into it, there are some characters who I am excluding because, for the most part, I'm not sure what cultural things I would be able to talk about, so just letting everyone know: I will not be talking about the Agreste family, the Fathom family, the Bourgeois family, the Lavillant family, and the Raincomprix family.

Like I have problems with how the characters are written, don't get me wrong, but none of them have particular cultural things that I want to talk about. I feel like the Bourgeois and Agreste families will just have their own posts because Jesus Christ.

Originally, I was going to go into a breakdown of each character and why their ethnicities don't actually impact their characters in the subtlest ways, but I can actually easier summarize it.

What impact does having any of the characters being certain nationalties have on the plot that aren't just racial sterotypes?

For most, it literally has no effect at all (Alix being Amazigh, Kim being Vietnamese, Nathaniel being Jewish and Nino being Moroccan).

Some it barely has an effect (Alya being Martiniquian and Marinette being Chinese).

For Kagami in particular, her whole story boils down to the "oppressive Asian parent who is hyper controlling of her life", which is a racist stereotype about Asian people. It would've been fine if it was written by an Asian person, but it was written by a white man, so yikes.

And then there are other characters where, in my opinion, they should be POC because otherwise it's just flat out uncomfortable. Yes, I am talking about Mylène. She was only given her hair to show that she was a nature activist, and that's it.

Also this is a personal opinion, but I think Jalil's whole thing would've been less eugh if the family was Egyptian, because it could be that Jalil wants to reconnect with his Egyptian roots, something that he can do via studying their ancient history, but his father discourages it since it doesn't matter because they're in France now.

Before I close this off, I wanted to mention something that isn't racist I don't think but feels like a strange microagression: Lila. Like, I don't know how to word it, but having the only Italian character being a conniving, master manipulator at the age 13 feels like a strange microagression, don't know how else to word it.

Though I'll get into Lila and Chloe's writing later.

Anyway, that's it for now. See you later!

#👁️ eldritch murmuring | talking #🦋 where butterflies never die | miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug critical #mlb critical #ml critical #i've decided against using the salt tags because ngl i don't really. like the salt tags. like i get it but also some people will just post #anti salt in the salt tag and it's so weird i don't like that

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kasagia · 19 days

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Right hand II

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: After you miraculously escaped from his arms the other night, you tried to stay away from him as best as you could. You have to put a lot of effort into escaping from the na-baron, who is tirelessly and constantly chasing you, or into avoiding another invitation to his chambers late at night. However, on Arrakis, the situation between you changes drastically... And you're losing control over your life, and it's not because of Feyd. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

You are standing in front of the window of the ship that is taking you to Arrakis. You nervously play with the edge of the shawl that covers your head. You don't have good memories of that planet. Before you escaped with Feyd, the Bene Gesserit sent several of their young apprentices to… train in the sands of Dune. Including you.

You still remember the screams of some of your companions who went crazy from a lack of water and decided to end their lives. And sometimes at night you dream that the sandworm swallows half of your group, leaving you practically on your own.

Arrakis didn't just kill your friends. It killed any belief in the Bene Gesserit in you, only confirming that you would rather die than be completely subject to them.

And now you're going back there with someone who had full control over your life again. It's funny how history likes to come full circle. And how, despite their repetition, people still fall for tricks and fall into fate's traps, acting in exactly the same way.

A cold hand on your bare shoulder snaps you out of your stupor. You act fully automatically,drawing the dagger attached to your belt and twisting the attacker's arm. You pin him to the wall, placing the blade against his pale neck. You freeze as your eyes meet Feyd's icy blue gaze.

"Good reflex. If you were anyone else, I'd kill you for this, but I'm in a particularly good mood today, so I won't punish you as I would like. What were you thinking about, my little witch, that you didn't hear me sneaking up on you? Or maybe I have finally surpassed the master?" He asks with a mocking smirk, showing off his black teeth. You snort, shaking your head at him.

"Keep dreaming." You say, taking advantage of his amusement. This time, you are not keeping your mouth shut for fear that he will deprive you of your tongue for your boldness towards him. You move away from him, which he takes with clear displeasure, and return to your place by the window.

"If I dream about you, I prefer to dream about something much more pleasant." He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He slides your shawl off your head with his teeth and nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent.

You feel him sigh deeply, leaning against you a little as he relaxes into your scent and closeness. You frown, but let him hold you because you feel calmer having him close to you. Despite everything that had happened in the past two weeks, you still found his presence reassuring. It didn't make any sense to you, but apparently, over the years, you had begun to involuntarily associate him with something akin to a safe shelter. Herkonnen. A psychopathic, bloodthirsty future baron. How ironic…

However, being in his arms helped you come to the conclusion that the demons of the past should remain in the past. And you should focus on the newest one that is now wrapped around you.

You stare at your reflection in the glass, shuddering as his scent surrounds you, mixed with the blood that stains his uniform. You wonder which soldier you will have to find a replacement for this time.

"What were you thinking about?" He whispers that he doesn't loosen his grip on you even for a moment, knowing full well that the moment he does, you'll wriggle out of his arms and find another excuse to leave him.

You checked the condition of engines and fuel 8 times. He started counting after the ship's captain complained to him about your constant presence. He beheaded him without giving him the opportunity to complete his complaint against you. Feyd smiles, remembering the irritated frown on your forehead when you had to clean up his mess. Of course he followed you then. Of course, 'just to make sure that the next captain you appoint will be more competent'.

"It doesn't matter." You sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. He would enjoy your submission and willing closeness if he didn't see that, by doing so, you only wanted to distract him from the main topic. Clever little witch you were…

"It must be important if you stopped paying attention to your surroundings. You are always alert and aware of the things that happen around you. No matter what. I remember how, during one of our escapades, you were the only one who didn't fall into the trap."

"Well, that one was actually obvious." You say it with a mocking smile, remembering how you had to save him and his soldiers.

For the rest of your life, you will never forget how you had to dig Baron Feyd-Rauth Harkonnen out of the mud and save his ass from the Assassins who planned his execution. Of course, he killed any witnesses, leaving only you and him alive. After all, his uncle and brother couldn't find out about it.

He growls in your ear, tightening his grip on you as a warning, when you make him replay that day in his head.

"Don't brag now. I was… busy observing something much more interesting than muddy swamps." He grumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. The warm air he exhales makes you shiver.

"Which was?" You ask shakily, placing your hands over his to stop him from roaming them over your body.

"You." His answer is short and simple, as if it were the most obvious thing you should know. He doesn't hide it anymore; he doesn't keep his desire to himself. He wants you. He craves you. He shows it to you so clearly and thoroughly that you laugh at how naive you were to believe that you had only a friendly, platonic relationship. But how could you not believe that he only saw you as a means to an end when he treated everyone else around him like that? Since he treats people like things to play with and break whenever he wants? How could you have predicted that you would become his obsession, a precious jewel in his collection that he would want to protect and have just for himself? "I'm asking for the last time. What were you thinking about, little witch?" He asks, wrapping his hand around your neck and forcing you to look into his eyes.

You have no escape from him now. And you certainly won't tell him that lately you've been thinking more and more often about how to run away from him, or what would happen if you stayed with the Bene Gesserit, or how your life would have looked if you escaped from them on your own. You wonder if it wouldn't have been better to bury yourself in the sands of Arrakis all those years ago with your friends and die there. You are sure that it would be a much more dignified death.

"I... I thought about Arrakis." You decide to respond safely and carefully, so as not to reveal too much to him. You didn't want him to become suspicious of you. Not when you had to handle him carefully, lest you fulfil any of the Bene Gesserit's sick plans and visions.

"So what about this? Are you scared?"

"No. I am not. I'm never afraid. Fear is the mindkiller. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration." You repeat the mantra automatically without thinking much about it.

You flinch as you realise that you are answering quickly with the Bene Gesserit litany of fear, which they've made you learn by heart. A great deal of anger grows within you as you realise how much they have influenced your life, even so many years after you ran away from them.

"You're quite tense. More than when I usually hold you." He points this out, starting to gently stroke your back in an attempt to relax you. You give him an angry look instead, suddenly understanding why he was irritated with you for reading him and his emotions perfectly when he was the one who was flustered and furious.

It was always easier for you than for him to hit sensitive places or to read the other one like an open book. Apparently, you're not the only one who's learned this over the years. He knew you as well as the back of his hand. He just never showed any trace of concern for your well-being.

You had your… tender moments when you allowed yourselves to be vulnerable with each other once or twice, but you both treated them more as minor lapses in maintaining your impenetrable façade of indifference and neutrality. In the end, everyone is on their own. And looking for a friend in him was a completely stupid thing—an act of true naivety and a sign of self-destruction, maybe even masochism.

"Maybe you shouldn't hold me at all, then?" You growl at him furiously, unable to control yourself. He just frowns, more surprised by your behaviour than offended by this blatant act of disrespect. He had rarely seen you so nervous or furious.

Of the two of you, you were the one who was the most calm and composed. You were always able to hide all your emotions behind a mask of indifference. He's fascinated by how you really behave when you don't have a filter on. He often throws you off your balance only to see your cheeks flush with anger; you take out your anger in a fight (just like him); or you bite your lip to avoid saying something back to his taunts.

"Or maybe you should drop your attitude and just let me do it?" He asks, his lips brushing against your earlobe. He doesn't wait for your response; he simply catches the tip of your ear between his teeth. He bites in gently, sucking and caressing your skin with his lips, as if your ear's superior helix were the sweetest delicacy he could enjoy.

"I'm not fighting or trying to escape, am I?" You respond, enduring his treatment with dignity. At the ship's window, you can see a small smile appear on his lips at your words.

He decides to pull away from you, but he is not giving you even the smallest chance to run away from him. He presses you against the cold glass, entering your personal space even more than when he had you close against his chest. You lift your chin, looking at him defiantly as he puts his hands on your hips.

"You are not. But you also don't want to be here in my arms." He replies, cupping your chin with two fingers. He leans closer, making you feel the metallic scent of blood that still lingers on him, probably from his fight with some prisoners on the ship. "And I don't like it at all." He whispers hoarsely into your ear.

"Since when do you care what others want? I don't remember you spoiling your concubines like that." You snap, causing him to laugh mockingly and shaking his head in amusement.

He leans in, making you tense up slightly. You think he's doing it to kiss you, but instead of feeling his lips on yours, you feel his cheek brush against yours, and his lips blow hot air into your ear again as he whispers softly:

"Because they weren't you, Y/N." You shiver at the sound of his dark, hoarse whisper in your ear. You can't say you don't feel the effects of his... seduction. But you promised yourself long ago that you wouldn't be any man's whore, concubine, plaything, or broodmare. And certainly not HIS. No matter how... tempting he could be.

"And what is so special about me? Hm? My body? My appearance? That I can fight well? You would get bored of me. Like you did with all your concubines."

"Did they understand me like you do? Have you ever seen them look at me as anything other than a wild, bloodless beast in the heat?" He answers your angry questions with his, dismissing your attempt to start a verbal fight with him.

His thumb traces the line of your jaw, examining you closely. Looking into his light blue eyes makes you feel uncomfortable. He shouldn't have reacted to you like that. You weren't used to anything he had been doing these past few weeks. You preferred to fight him than... when he showed you so much tenderness, appreciation, and affection.

"Have I ever looked at you differently?" You ask defiantly. He smiles, licking his plump lips. You give in to this provocation, and, without controlling it at all, you move your gaze to his lips. His dark chuckle makes you look back into his eyes.

"Yes. Yes, you did that... you don't even know how often." He hums, his fingertips moving towards your mouth. He caresses your lips with incredible tenderness and delicacy. He presses on them gently, but you squeeze them as tight as you can, preventing him from doing anything he planned.

You react faster than him. You bite his wandering fingers, take advantage of the fact that he is still trying to process what has just happened, and quickly pull away from him. He laughs, shaking his head, looking at you intently as he deliberately crosses the distance between you two. He doesn't have to say anything for you to see how clearly he's mocking you and daring you to continue to defy him.

"We're not even on Arrakis yet, and you're already delusional, my na-Baron? Or maybe the black sun of Giedi Prime made you start seeing a mirage?"

"If you are a mirage or an illusion, then I never want to be sane again, my little witch." You gasp, as he wraps his arms around you tightly, clinging to you completely. He leans in, his nose tracing a line along your temple, inhaling your scent before burying his face in your hair.

He keeps a firm grip on your shoulders. You place your hands on his, trying to loosen his tight grasp somehow, but it only makes him hold you tighter. He tilts his head slightly and brushes his nose against yours.

You shiver, feeling how close he is and how his musky smell, mixed with a hint of metallic blood, surrounds you. He presses himself against you so tightly that there's practically no space left between your bodies. You close your eyes, letting out a small, shaky breath. And just as he's about to press his lips against yours, the metal door to the room slides open with a loud bang.

You jump away from him, grunting as a young recruit enters your field of vision.

“My lord na-Baron. Lady Y/N. We will land in fifteen minutes."

"We would rather notice it ourselves." Feyd growls at him. You see him reach for the hidden dagger. You walk over to him, resting your chest against his back, and grab his hand before he places it on his dagger and throws it at the poor man.

"Thank you, Oliver." You say with a smile. The man swallows in fear at Feyd's furious glare. He bows and leaves the two of you alone.

You step away from Feyd, letting go of his hand. You frown, seeing that he's even more furious than when one of the soldiers entered. You raise your eyebrow questioningly, not understanding why he's practically huffing in anger now.

"What?" You finally ask him, not understanding the reason behind his behaviour.

"Oliver... do you call all of them by their names?" He asks, spitting out the soldier's name in disgust. You sigh, rolling your eyes as you reach for the shawl he had thrown off you and put it back on your head.

"If I know them, then yes, why?"

"You've never called me anything other than my lord and na-baron." He speaks in an almost accusatory tone. It takes a lot of strength in you not to burst out laughing when you realize he's completely serious and not joking right now. You try to come up with some excuse, wondering how to safely answer his question.

"And you always call me your little witch." You answer. Using his name somehow never felt right to you. At first, out of respect for him, maybe even fear. After all, he saved you from the clutches of the Bene Gesserit. Calling him by his name was out of the question. With time, you did it out of habit. And now… now you didn't want to call him by anything else because you knew that it would be a small step on his way to make you his.

"So this is supposed to be our thing?" He asks with a challenging, teasing smile.

"We don't have a thing." You huff, walking towards the exit. He, of course, follows you faithfully. You can feel the excitement radiating from him. He was definitely planning something big to do on Arrakis. Something he didn't tell you. You just hoped that he would be too busy with his brother and securing the spice mine to take care of you at the same time.

"Don't we?"

"You should focus on what you tell your brother. You're finally taking the reins. Rabban won't give them to you that easily. And we need to establish a final plan of action on Arrakis." You say, returning to your matter-of-fact, cool tone. He smiles, nodding.

"Don't worry about that… I'll make him kiss our shoes." You snort, shaking your head in amusement at his words. It might be true, but it's still hard for you to imagine him actually putting this plan into action. As you'll see in a few minutes, he actually intended to do that. "And the plan was decided a long time ago. I told you I wouldn't let us split up. And not because I question your leadership skills or loyalty. You are the only competent and worthy person to lead half of my army. But we, little witch, work together. Always. You don't change something that works perfectly. Get ready. We're landing soon." He leaves you with a quick kiss on your temple.

He walks away from you with a sly smirk, as if he's managed to trick you. You sigh as you watch him walk out of sight, walking with a spring in his step towards his room, probably to grab his things and get his harpies ready to leave.

You look out the ship's window at Arrakis for the last time. You close your eyes, promising yourself that since the Bene Gesserit, Feyd Rautha, Giedi Prime, or the Harkonens hadn't killed you, this damn planet wouldn't do this either. You weren't the same Y/N from 10 years ago. You were more powerful. Your bones won't sink into the sands of this damn dune... you'd even rather become the mother of that Kwisatz Haderach.

You practically jump out of bed with your heart beating fast as you wake up from another nightmare. You sigh shakily, pressing your hand to your mouth, trying to calm your breathing as best as you can as your heart pounds frantically against your chest.

The screams of your companions echo in your ears, and the images of the Fremen pumping the water out of them replay in your head. And that damned sandworm...

“Y/N, look at me.” His cool hands on your bare shoulders and his raspy, commanding tone bring you back to reality.

As soon as you look into Feyd Rautha's blue irises, you stop trembling. You snap out of this strange trance, trying your best to forget about the returning memories that haunted you more often during this week of your stay on Caladan. You suspect that this may have resulted in a rather close relationship with Lady Jessica. You breathe slowly, focusing on his pale skin that looks like snow, illuminated by the moonlight that streams through the window of one of the Caladan's inns.

“Breathe in and out.” He gives you another order. You nod, imitating the pace of his slow breathing as you slowly begin to calm down. "I will kill that witch as soon as I get my hands on her." He growls, brushing your sweaty hair away from your forehead with his hand. You see immense anger in his eyes and the seeds of a plan forming in his head as he thinks of many ways to make that Bene Gesserit pay for your nightmares.

"You can't. She's the prince's mother. Besides, it's not her fault that she recognised me from somewhere. I could have been more careful."

"You covered your face with a mask for an entire week, all the time, even to sleep. What can you call that other than being careful? Besides, the baron knew that these negotiations were doomed to failure anyway. It's not like her suspicions ruined them. I would have decided to leave this damned palace even without it." He assures you, slowly lowering the two of you back onto the mattress. He wraps one arm around you, his tight embrace grounding you in the moment and helping your mind focus entirely on the present rather than the dark memories from your past.

"The Baron will be furious with you. It's all my fault. You should have killed me." You say, focusing your gaze on his daggers, which are strapped to his hip. Feyd follows your gaze and snorts. He grabs your neck, forcing you to lift your head and look into his eyes again.

"And get rid of the only competent right hand I've had in years? I'd rather suffer his punishment for this... small act of disrespect towards the Atreides. And who knows? Maybe he'll even like it? Harkonnen chooses inns over Atreides' palaces. I can always say that I saw rats running freely around my chamber and decided that such conditions are not worthy of a na-Baron and they are an insult to my person that I could not allow them to do." You roll your eyes at him, but you can't help but smirk at him.

Feyd finds himself smiling slightly at the sparkle of amusement in your eyes. He decided he preferred seeing them in your eyes rather than the emptiness and terror that didn't even let you breathe normally. He reveled in the fear of others. But yours brought him more pain than joy. Unpleasant pain.

It was starting to worry him. And maybe he would think about it more if you weren't lying so close to him now, practically in his arms. At his fingertips if he wanted to play with you. But, surprisingly, he didn't. And even if so, he wanted it only if you were as desperate for his touch as he was for yours.

"There are also rats on Giedi Prime. And you have to share a room with me because there's not enough space here for all of us. I'm sure your harpies are furious. You'd probably rather do something else with them, too, than hold me through my nightmares like some scared little child." You tease him, snapping him from his thoughts. He looks at you carefully, admiring the way the beads of sweat on your forehead glisten in the moonlight.

He feels a strange, new desire to make them be caused by him... or rather, by the activity he would subject you to. His gaze returns to your eyes and your lips, and he feels himself harden slightly as his thoughts turn to fantasies about you—something he's been doing a lot more of lately. One of his harpies mentioned something about him moaning your name...

"Maybe you actually deserve this punishment? Such sharp language…" He whispers huskily, tracing the line of your jaw with the pad of his thumb. He watches you carefully, and, as usual, he sees no fear in your eyes. Even when his fingers travel to your neck and then to the fabric of your nightgown, imagine how close he is to touching what you hide from him and everyone else behind your outfits designed to fit you into staying in the shadows and fighting. If he could, he would dress you in the most beautiful silks and jewellery so that he could feast his eyes on the only beautiful view of Giedi Prime. You see a crease form on his forehead as he becomes aware of this strange desire. He removes his hand before he goes too far to come back, and he clears his throat as he focuses his gaze on your eyes again. "What was that? That dream?"

"I... I don't want to talk about it." Feyd feels how you tense up just thinking about your nightmare. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't care. He wouldn't spare a thought or, if he was curious enough, force them to talk. But with you... he just nods and gives you space, turning to lay on his side of the bed.

"Feyd..." His heart beats faster after you use his name for the first time. He turns to your side of the bed so he can fully look at you. He hums, pretending that you're not giving him a heart attack and that he's not replaying the soft, gentle tone with which you said his name in his head. And he wants to hear it again. In many ways. A quiet whisper, a cry, a scream of pleasure as he makes you come... "I... can you..."'

He doesn't wait for you to ask him. And he could. He could make you beg for him to bring you the comfort you need or mock you for being so defenceless and scared, but how can he make you do that when you look at him with those doe eyes? How can he do anything other than pull you into his chest, place his hand on your head, and play with your hair, guiding your face into the crook of his neck as you look at him like no one has ever done before?

He wasn't the type of man you turned to for comfort or solace, and yet here you were, lying next to him, just wanting to feel his safe embrace around you again. He smiles when he feels your breathing and pulse slow as you fall asleep against him, allowing him to be with you in your unconscious state. He could do many things to you. He could slit your throat, stab you in the heart, scalp you of all your beautiful hair, and touch and taste any part of you he wanted. Satisfy himself with you and give yourself to his concubines when he ends using you.

But all he can do, as you sleep so peacefully on his chest, is pull the covers tighter around you and place a gentle kiss on your head. He doesn't remember the last time he felt such peace or the last time he felt wanted—not because of his status or the benefits he could bring to someone, but simply because someone wanted to be close to HIM.

"After all… I guess Caladan isn't that bad, my little witch." He whispers, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

Feyd liked to think that the moment you first said his name and clung to him after the nightmare for comfort and security (IN HIM) was the moment he fell for you. But the truth was that it was a day later, after his uncle had punished him, inflicting various wounds with a blade on him, that you returned to the Giedi Prime without the expected agreement with Atreides. And, of course, he didn't rat you out. He took the blame. After all, it was his fault. He put your well-being above anything else and ordered to leave Caladan when Lady Jessica became too attentive to you. And he would do it again. He couldn't lose his right hand.

You felt guilty and took care of him. And those few days when you played the role of his nurse were the best ones in his life.

Feyd learned to love pain. Numerous punishments made it impossible for him not to do that. But he loved your gentle touch even more, esepcially when you tried your best to heal him. And he could get a thousand cuts or even more if it was the price of feeling your tender, caring touch on his skin once again.

And lying there with a torn back, looking at your sleeping form next to his bed, ready to meet his every little wish; he promised himself that he would do it. He will feel your hands on his body again. In better, less bloody circumstances. And definitely not with worry staining your beautiful eyes. But desire. Passion. Affection. Maybe even love.

"Uncomfortable, my lord?" You mock him with a little smirk as you both lie on the sand, observing the surroundings.

"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You huff, shaking your head at his words. You know it's the last thing he'll actually do at this point. You use your binoculars to zoom in on a specific sand dune, in the middle of which there should be a Fremen base.

"Someone woke up with his left foot. I thought you'd be more enthusiastic about the upcoming fight." You say, trying to spot any movement, silhouette, or anything that indicates that your informant was right, and this is the place where one of the more important sietches are.

"I am. But it's damn hot here. Besides, sand gets in where it shouldn't." You smile, barely holding back your laughter, as Feyd allows himself to grumble next to you. You squeal in shock as he spanks you. You look away from the dune and give him an offended, shocked look when he chuckles hoarsely at your reaction.

"You're lucky that it's just a desert and that you're not dressed all in black like our soldiers. If this shipment of new equipment, weapons, and uniforms does not arrive this week, I will return to Giedi Prime and slaughter these useless scientists and engineers. Besides, your harpies will probably be more than happy to help you get rid of every little grain of sand from your body."

"Jealous?" He asks as you go back to watching the dunes.

"I wouldn't willingly be around these cannibals even if you paid me." You say, ignoring the fact that he was clearly asking if you were jealous of HIM, not the fact that he has his concubines and you don't. You shiver, feeling his piercing, burning gaze on you.

You're a little annoyed that he's doing practically nothing. Apparently, he too must have felt the effects of spending many weeks in that damn desert, and he had enough. Just like all of you.

"Arrakis brings out your more feisty side… I like it." He takes the binoculars from you and looks in a completely different direction. You snort, trying to see what caught his eye. You frown as you see a sandworm scurrying in the distance. But it wasn't under the sand... "Tell squad six to kill it. Those rats must be moving around again."

"Will you waste the bomb on a sandworm?"

"Only the most important Fremen travel like this. Whoever's on the back of this is not just anyone." You nod. You turn on the communicator and share information with the group, giving them the orders. You feel Feyd's eyes focused on you all the time. You roll your eyes and shift your gaze to his as he continues to stare at you curiously.

"What?"

"You've been here before, right? You may not know the ways of the Fremen, but I can see in your eyes that this planet is no stranger to you."

"The Bene Gesserit prepared us for every circumstance." You answered him deceptively. However, this does not quench his curiosity. And you know that since you're doomed to wait here for a good hour before anything happens, you're doomed to keep him entertained.

"Did they send you to Giedi Prime too?"

"No. But I was often send to Caladan." You say, not realizing how bad a move it was. The wrinkle on his forehead and the gentle tightening of his hand on his blades prove to you what an idiot you are. But you can't keep an eye on the dunes and anticipate his mood swings at the same time. Which he's had quite a lot of since you came to Arrakis. He didn't show it to anyone else, but you could see that the heat was bothering him just as much as it was for all of you.

"Why? Breeding program? Don't tell me you were supposed to be Atreides' pet." He spit out from his mouth the names of the people who were his family's greatest nemeses, as if it were some kind of dead poison. Even though the Atreides were long dead, buried in the sands of Arrakis, he still talked about them with huge hostility.

No. I was supposed to be your pet.

"I don't know." You slide off the sand to get out of sight of your possible opponents. There's no point in observing the area now. You know that your best men and their troops are positioned around you, so you could have left them to make the first attack. For now, you had to defuse a bomb that was about to explode next to you.

"You don't talk about it often. About the Bene Gesserit." He pursues the topic further, following in your footsteps. You both are standing on a small ledge, with your backs pressed against a sandstone. You don't have much space, so you have to rest your arm on his so as not to fall down and crash into the rocks below you.

"I don't want to remember it. I have another life now. Better one." You say, fiddling with your communicator. You issue a surveillance order to the rest of your units and turn it off, waiting for them to notice something. You take the shawl off your head and wipe your sweaty forehead with it.

"I won't let them hurt you again. Or anyone else." You freeze for a moment at his words. All you can do is stare at him in shock as he reaches for your face and grabs your hair. He ties them awkwardly, making sure they don't get in your face. It's a sweet gesture... even too sweet for him. And you wonder how the hell he knows how to tie someone's hair back.

You are about to tie your shawl around your forehead again when Feyd suddenly takes it from you. He wipes the back of your neck and makes sure there isn't a single bead of sweat on your face before he ties your shawl around his wrist.

"Who said they hurt me?" You ask, swallowing. You try to hide the tremble in your voice, but you suddenly become very aware of how close you are to each other. And that you two are completely alone...

"Your eyes and actions tell me more than you can let through your mouth, little witch."

"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You respond with what he told you earlier without thinking much about it.

You gasp in shock as he presses you against the sandstone behind you, guiding the two of you deeper. His dilated pupils, slightly clenched jaw, and rapid breathing confirm how fucked up you are. You've lost your damn guard. Again. And now he will use it to his advantage.

"Oh, my darling little witch… you don't know how much I want you to do this…" He growls in your ear. His nose traces a path from your hair to your neck, inhaling your scent. You shiver as his lips brush against your neck.

"What are you doing?" You moan as he sucks your neck and bites it lightly, leaving a hickey there. He moves his head away from you and looks at the trail he created. He hums lightly, planning where to leave the next one. And another one. And another. And another...

"Shhh... We have a few minutes before they stop bombarding them. Another few before the dust settles and before we enter those rats' canals... let me make sure that my right hand is properly relaxed in the meantime."

As usual, he doesn't give you time to respond. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. His chapped lips brush against yours, gently urging you to open your mouth for him. You try to tighten them as best you can, but he somehow manages to bite your lip, which makes him immediately clear the way for his tongue.

You gasp as his hands cup your ass. His fingers dig into your flesh, and you know that if it weren't for the thick tactical suit, it would have left bruises in the shape of his fingers. He picks you up without breaking the kiss and presses you against the stone-sand wall of the small cave.

You moan as his bulge rubs against your clothed core. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding yourself up as he peppers your neck with hickeys, grinding against you.

On Giedi Prime, you would struggle with him, trying to break free from his grip. But here, while you've been busy planning, tracking, fighting, and increasing your spice production for the last few weeks, you haven't had any opportunity... to take care of yourself. He wasn't helping either, following you around and acting like a fucking guard dog. And from what you heard from your room next to his in the night, he wasn't denying himself anything. Damn bastard.

What you didn't know was that he was fucking his fist thinking about you all this time because, since the two of you shared a bath, none of his concubines have been able to please him. So he's just as desperate as you are.

You moan as he thrusts into you, especially hard. He also purrs against your neck at the sounds you make. You're well aware that if it didn't take you forever to put your clothes back on, he'd already have you naked beneath him, fucking you wildly and giving you orgasm after orgasm... and you almost want to let him. If only those fucking witches weren't planning on breeding you with him, you would have been riding him wild a long time ago.

At one point, he bites into your neck, making you scream uncontrollably. You blush furiously when he pulls away from your neck with your blood on his full lips and gives you a hungry, lustful look.

"Take off your pants." He orders you. He licks the blood from his lips and leans down to lick the rest from your neck, leaving a few more hickeys on it.

"We… can't… we... battle..." He suddenly stops making any movements, but instead of moving away from you, as you think he will, he grabs you tightly by the throat. He squeezes lightly and leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He breathes deeply and heavily, nuzzling his nose against yours before opening his eyes to fix his wide pupils on yours.

"Are you defying me?" You shake your head, always being a good soldier. "Good girl. Pants down, or I'll rip them off, and you'll have to walk back to the base without them."

This is a very real threat. And even though you know he would rather kill any man who dares to look at you in this state than expose you to the… lust of the hundreds of men who were on the base, you have no desire to parade around Arrakis with your bare ass. You start to take off your pants, slowly unbuttoning them. He won't even let you take them off of you all the way. As soon as he sees your exposed pussy, he drops to his knees in front of you, holding your hips in a tight grip.

"She blocks me so much when she has a damn spring between her legs… a real desert oasis…" He mumbles, his fingers collecting your wetness. You gasp as he looks you straight in the eye, sucking your juices from his finger. You lick your lips unconsciously, your brain completely stunned by the suddenness of the situation, the lust overwhelming you, the sight of him on his knees for you, as well as the spice in the air.

You don't even protest when he licks the stripe of your pussy and tightens his grip on your hips, pressing his face against your crotch. As he begins to lick and suck on your more sensitive parts, you scratch his scalp with your nails in a vain attempt to grab something. His dark, raspy chuckle against your clit makes you even wetter, as the vibrations and fingers teasing your entrance only fuel your desire.

He eats you like he's really dying of thirst. He brings out in you sounds that you would be ashamed of if you were in a better, saner, more aware state. And you try to maintain the last of your dignity and stifle your moans by placing a hand over your mouth, but he growls in protest and removes your hands so quickly that you have no idea when it happened. He places it on his shoulder, encouraging you to dig your nails into him as he devours you like his life depends on it. Like he would die if he didn't make you cum, lick up every last bit of wetness from between your legs.

At one point, he puts your leg over his shoulder. He's even closer to you (if possible), but you're not really paying attention to what he's doing as long as his mouth and fingers are still working their magic on you. You pull him closer, chasing your sweet release, when suddenly, he pulls away.

You growl in anger, opening your eyes. He's still on his knees in front of you, his face covered in your juices, and he's staring at you hungrily as if his face wasn't buried in your pussy moments ago.

"Say my name." His demand throws you off balance for a moment. You open your mouth to argue with him, to taunt him, but instead you close it quickly, biting your lip as his finger lazily moves in and out of your needy pussy. "Scream my name and I'll let you cum."

You don't want to give in to him like that. You don't want to show any weakness. But his fingers stretch you so wonderfully, hitting your most sensitive spot. You tremble around his fingers, biting your lip until it draws blood, too proud to admit to yourself how weak you were.

You escaped from the Bene Gesserit and from your fate to the only safe place; it's darkest under the lamp. No one in their right mind would willingly hide in the house of the man to whom you were supposed to submit. But it turned out that you were following the path these witches laid out for you anyway. But damn, he made you feel like you'd never felt with any man or woman...

You growl furiously as he removes his fingers again—right when you're finally about to come. He laughs hoarsely, sucking his fingers clean of your wetness.

"You're extending my fun, little witch. You must like it as much as I do." You protest as he dips his fingers inside you again, taking you close the edge again. You grab his neck, trying to pull him towards you, but he just laughs, intensifying the work of his fingers and fending off your feeble attempts to pull his face back to your needy cunt. "You know what you have to do to cum." He reminds you with a cocky smirk, watching your trembling, panting form.

Feyd drinks in the sight of you, so needy and desperate to orgasm. And it's all because of him. Every little moan, the closing of your eyes and the tilt of your head in pleasure, the ragged breathing, the quickening of your heartbeat, the wetness between your legs, the sweet nectar of the gods dripping down your thighs—it was all because of him. His cock hardens as he imagines how you'll react as he pounds into you like an animal in heat, stretching your tight walls for him. How you'll clench around his length and dig your nails into his back to feel him as close to you as possible. Or when you swell beautifully with his heir...

He will have you there. Willingly. He will prepare you as he is now; he will fuck out of you any thought until nothing except the desire for him remains.

"Feyd..." You moan as he unconsciously speeds up the movements of his fingers, thrusting them into you at breakneck speed. He smiles, blowing air at your pussy, making you moan even louder.

"Again." He demands, licking the small trail of your juices that has formed on your thighs. He welcomes the way you wet his hand and your shawl that was wrapped around his wrist. He'll save it for later this night.

"Feyd!" You pull on his head and he obliges. He couldn't be cruel to you in this state.

You come suddenly, quickly, and intensely. Your vision is blurry and unclear, and your blood is rushing through you as you moan loudly, holding on to him with all your might.

The next thing you know, he's holding you tightly by your trembling legs as he lowers you to his lap. You straddle him, hugging him tightly as you breathe slowly, trying to get back to a state of relative using after he fucked the orgasm of your life out of you. You hide your face in his neck, too disappointed in yourself to see the proud smirk on his face. He lazily rubs your back, holding you as you regain your strenght.

"You owe me, little witch. And you know, I always collect my debt." He growls hoarsely in your ear and presses a kiss on your temple. You can smell your scent on him. You blush, embarrassed, as you can feel desire rising in you again. "No response? Not a single malicious comment? Did I make you come so hard that now you are speechless? Are you really just a little mouse in need of my attention under that strong witch façade?"

"I'm not a fucking mouse." You snap at him in anger, finally coming to your senses.

"So that's the first one. Even better for me." He stands up, slowly carrying you from his lap to the ground. He reaches for your pants and helps you put them on. He grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him. You can't stand alone. You can't fucking stand alone. He laughs as he realises it, which irritates you to the point where you can't control yourself anymore.

"Shut up." You use your voice on him before you bite your tongue to stop yourself. Silence falls between you for a moment. You swallow, realising what you've done. You open your mouth to explain yourself, but, as usual, he beats you to it.

"Hmm… interesting. So you have that fire in you…" He tangles his hand in your hair and watches you closely, fascinated by the way you used your voice on him for the first time. "As sweet as I thought. Better than any water… Use that voice on me in a way I don't like, and I will really punish you, little witch. And this time, it will only be pleasant for me. Understood?" You nod your head with clenched teeth. "Good girl. Let's go. I believe they stopped dropping bombs right when you came on my face and fingers." He brags, letting you go when he sees you can stand on your own. You roll your eyes, realising how often he'll brag about it. You draw your blade and follow him, looking forward to hunting for Fremen.

You try to ignore the sand that… got where he was a few seconds ago and where he had it himself too. Damn bastard.

You walk through the corridors of your base. You're covered in blood, but it doesn't bother you much. Maybe a little when you remember that you will have to remove clotted blood from your hair. You sigh, adjusting the scarf around your neck that you took from some fremen to hide the hickeys as you walk to the war room to give new orders to the soldiers.

The Sietch has been completely destroyed by you. You murdered most of the fremen, and those left alive were taken prisoner... or to the camp brothel. You preferred not to go into details.

As you walk through the halls, you hear rustling behind you. You take a few slow steps and turn around, with your hand on your dagger, only to see na-Baron's harpies. You tense up as you watch the three women carefully and distrustfully.

"How can I help you?" You ask them, trying to avoid showing them genuine disgust and hostility. After all, they had somehow kept Feyd away from you… for now.

"The little witch is in trouble…"

"Our master will be very angry with her…"

"Maybe he'll even let us suck her bones when he's done with her…"

They say one by one, tilting their heads as they observe you. You shiver slightly, but you quickly adopt a hostile, intimidating stance, not caring much about what they say. They may have been cannibals, but you were a trained soldier and killer. You would kill them in a heartbeat if they weren't useful to you in some way.

"What do you want, vultures?" You growl at them, expecting them to get scared and return to their master's chamber, waiting for him like faithful dogs.

"The little witch's friend is here…"

"Our master is interrogating her…"

"And he learns very interesting things about the witch."

"When he's done with her, he'll be ours again."

"We will eat her meat and feast, celebrating our victory."

And what really should scare you more is the part about them saying they're going to eat you, but all you can think about is that friend he's interrogating. Another Bene Gesserit? Impossible. You made sure that everyone who came into contact with you either believed you were dead or forgot that you existed. Except for one… No. No, that wasn't possible.

"I have the blood of hundreds of rats on me. Get out of my sight unless you want yours to adorn my armor. And believe me… I will do it with great pleasure. I bet your master would fuck me on your corpse as a reward." You snap at them, still processing what may have been happening in the interrogation room. If your suspicions were true... you didn't even want to think about it. This couldn't be happening. You're paranoid. After so many years of keeping everything a secret... you couldn't lose control that easily.

You pay them no further attention and continue walking, ignoring their hisses and mocking laughter as you change your plans and head to the interrogation room.

You had to run away. As far away from here as possible. But if you do, he will chase after you. And when he finds you, and there is no doubt that he will, he will gut you and throw your remains to his harpies.

So you couldn't escape. You had to face him and try to tame him somehow. But how the hell are you going to explain to him that you ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be his concubine? Maybe a few years ago he would have understood it, but now that he has found this strange obsession with you, how could you get out of this situation? He'll cut you up before you even try to say anything.

You pass soldiers standing at the door of the interrogation room. They nod at you, letting you in as you hesitantly walk over to see for yourself if the situation is actually as dire as you think.

You feel the cold metal door on your back as it closes behind you with a bang. You freeze in place, swallowing nervously, as you see the Fremen Reverend Mother handcuffed to a chair. What scares you much more than the fact that it is really a Bene Gesserit is that it's Lady Jessica. Your former trainer in that sick sisterhood.

Feyd is standing right in front of her. His hands are gripped tightly around his daggers, and his gaze is focused on the woman in front of him. He strokes the blade of his dagger with his thumb as he is lost in his thoughts. He behaved as if he were completely oblivious to you, but you know him better than to even think for a while that he didn't notice your entrance. But he doesn't say anything as he continues to stare at her intently.

"She can tell you that herself. Right, Y/N?" Lady Jessica looks at you, raising an eyebrow defiantly. Even captured, she looks proud, as if she were the one who had power over what was happening in the room. "I should thank you. If it weren't for you, Paul would never have taken over the Kwisatz Haderach's way. No matter how hard I tried..."

"Feyd…" You ignore her and walk over to Harkonnen. You place a hand on his shoulder, but he just flinches at your touch, moving away from you. His eyes were fixed on the floor; he wasn't giving you even a single glance.

"I'm not surprised. If they sent me to breed with such a monster, I would also run away... not necessarily into his arms, but I really admire your skillful mind. To come up with such intrigue. No one would ever imagine that a little scared girl would run straight into the lion's mouth to take shelter there. I remember how you cried down my skirt when you found out what your mission was. I never would have imagined that my apprentice would go so far."

"Silence!" You shout at her, using the voice, and surprisingly, you succeed. You don't have time to try to understand what just happened—that you used your voice against a much stronger woman than you, the Reverend Mother. You walk up to Feyd and cup his cheek with your hand, forcing him to look at you.

His gaze is blank. He's wearing his mask, blocking out any emotions that might get through and reveal what he's thinking. He takes your hand and moves it away from his face, pushing you away from him like a bug.

"Would you like to see a monster, concubine of the Atreides? I'll be more than happy to show you one…" Before either of you can react, Feyd swings, creating a long gash across her chest. The woman gasps in shock, placing her hand on her wound, from which blood is now flowing down on the floor.

Before you can take a breath to talk some sense into him, he plunges the blade into her chest. You tremble as you hear the sound of cracked bones under the movement of his dagger and the witch's screams.

You don't do anything. You just stand there, watching as Feyd takes out his anger on her, disembowelling her. The metallic smell of blood hits your nostrils, but even that doesn't cause you to react. All you can do is stand and watch. And wait for your turn.

You feel sick as Lady Jassica's screams remind you of your friends who died on Arrakis. You deny what's happening in front of you as your thoughts return to that fateful day.

You weren't sent to Arrakis to try to survive. No, the plan created by Bene Gesserit was much worse. You were sent there to kill each other. This sick test was intended to eliminate weak individuals, leaving only one Bene Gesserit alive, the one who was the strongest among the young generation of women trained by these mad witches.

You were sent on one ship, thrown into the desert with weapons and one bottle of water, as an act of mercy. There were fifty of you. You killed half of them. Or at least that's what the Reverend Mothers told you after the Sisterhood took you back from there..

You were the only one left alive.

From that day on, you promised yourself that you would never let them control your life or make you go through these tests again. You didn't want to take part in their sick games ever again. You preferred to die rather than become their tool again, a monster that blindly follows their orders.

You never wanted to feel powerless or furiously frustrated again.

And now, standing there and staring blankly as Feyd killed the woman who was your mentor in front of you, you felt as if you were once again that helpless girl who is forced to do as she is told and who has no power over anything that is happening around her.

You flinch as blood reaches your shoes. You look up to see Na-Baron turning towards you. Blood was dripping down his armour as he cleaned his blades on her clothes, which were already soaked in blood.

For a moment, you delude yourself, thinking that it's not what you think. That he didn't actually discover the truth about your past in the Bene Gesserit by accident. That everything will be all right, just how it used to.

But by the look in his icy-blue eyes, you know he knows. He gives you the same angry, bloodthirsty glare that he gives his victims moments before they die. But there's something else there. Pain. Betrayal. Without knowing why, you feel a flood of guilt wash over you, outweighing your fear. But you didn't owe him anything. No loyalty or sincere devotion.

You gasp as he pushes you against the wall and presses the knife to your neck, breathing heavily. You feel it gently pierce your skin, causing blood to leak from the wound and run down your neck. He doesn't move away. He doesn't bend down to lick it off your skin. He presses further and harder, looking straight into your eyes. And you don't know if he's just testing you or if he really wants to kill you.

Suddenly, fucking him wasn't the worst solution to the situation you found yourself in...

Part III Taglist: (I hope that everyone is here...) @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13

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quietwingsinthesky · 1 month

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im just saying that if i had been in charge of s6 of doctor who, i would have fully leaned into the horror of amy's pregnancy, the loss of her own agency in it, the way she was used as a vessel to create a child she would never hold again, amy pond who never indicated once that she even wanted a child and was made to have one anyway against her will, and once they were done using her, they even took away any choice she might make about it in the future.

and i would have had this be a factor in amy and river's relationship going forward. how do you interact with a child you never knew, never got to decide if you wanted to have, and she's also already your friend, you love her as this miraculous, insane woman who has saved your life more than once. she's always known more about you than you could about her, but now you know exactly how much she was keeping from you. it's not like she could have told you, could have stopped it, but all this time, she was your friend and she was your daughter, and how do you learn to live with her?

#im just. saying.#amy pond my most beloved.#amy pond #river song #doctor who #this is a horror story. to me.#it should be. it should be.#THIS STORY. IS ABOUT AMY POND. IT IS NOT ABOUT THE DOCTOR RISING SO HIGH AND FALLING SO FAR.#THIS STORY IS ABOUT AMY POND. THIS STORY IS ABOUT AMY.#THIS IS ABOUT HOW NO ONE EVER COMES TO SAVE HER IN TIME. THIS IS ABOUT THE FACT THAT SHE WAS SEEING THROUGH #THAT GANGERS EYES FOR MONTHS AND MONTHS AND BELIEVED SHE WAS THERE WITH THE DOCTOR. AND HE KNEW #SOMETHING WAS WRONG WITH HER PREGNANCY AND HE DIDN'T SAY A WORD. THIS IS ABOUT AMY POND AND HOW SHE NEVER GETS ANY CHOICE.#WAITING IS NOT A CHOICE. WAITING IS WHAT YOU DO WHILE EVERYONE AROUND YOU GETS TO CHOOSE. AND YOU'RE TRAPPED.#YOU WILL WAIT WHETHER YOU COWER OR YOU SOB OR YOU RAGE AGAINST THE WALLS KEEPING YOU IN. YOU WILL WAIT. IT IS NOT A CHOICE.#it is the absence of one.

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righteousinadversity · 11 months

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I don't think any protagonist can ever top Wei 'Yiling Laozu' Wuxian. No one is doing it like him. He is an icon. He can shoot arrows blindfolded. He is a prankster. He falls for a boy and decides immediately that he must have said boy's attention on him at all time. He is necromancer exacting his vengeance. He is just three years old. He is a flirt. He has his first kiss in his twenties. He does not remember your name. He does remember that one song his crush sang to him in a cave when he was injured and feverish. He is a sunshine boy. He survived the hell of hells. He died and was unhappily brought back to life. He's the bizarre genius, the miraculous hero, the force of the rebellion, the flower that blooms alone. He walks the single plank bridge alone. He is the awesome gay uncle who knows everything. He is a pretty boy. He is the most moral, steadfast person you know. He is just a man throwing flowers to his love. He rips his hard won talent out to repay a debt that never was. He is a sister's boy. He is an abuse survivor. He is an urban legend. He is one of the most handsome men of his time. He has so much trauma. He plants children like radishes. He threw the arrow he was shot with from a rooftop and killed someone. He is a talented musician. He is a scheming fox. He can drink you under the table. He is so fucking tired of this bullshit. He has probably long since burned his tastebuds with the spice he puts in his food. He is broke. He kisses skeletons on their hands in gratitude. He confesses his deep, abiding love in the middle of being held hostage. He attempts the impossible and succeeds. He is an untamed hero, standing against a world condemning the innocent. He is everything.

#wei wuxian #mdzs #*me appearing out of nowhere after eight months with starbucks*#writing this I know I have probably missed many things #so feel free to add on to this #Also me just copying JC's entire spiel in the BM right onto this

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stagnantheart · 9 months

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message from mitski. feeling: blessed

[ID: white text on a black background. The text reads, “Hello!

There are a lot of things about working in the music industry, and about being in the public eye, that feels like it goes against my nature. I think you all might have seen me struggle with it, from time to time! But I am also in a miraculously lucky position, to be able to make music with resources and time, and to have an audience like you who give me the opportunity to perform. Ultimately, I recognized that I really want to keep making music, and I’m willing to take the difficult stuff with the wonderful stuff - like any job, or relationship, or worthwhile thing in life. So I renegotiated my contract with my label, and decided to keep making records. Thank you so much for your patience and support while I found my way here. I love you!” [/end ID]

#I’m so glad her love for music has been reinvigorated despite everything #mitski #added id sorry i was so excited #btw this is from an email from her I would never fake this hello

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odoraful · 2 months

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I'm not scared.ᐟ

it's a cosy saturday night. rain gently patters against the windows. you set up a small projector in your bedroom and decide to play a horror game with your boyfriend while snuggling in bed.

characters: zayne, xavier, rafayel content: headcanons, established relationship, no in-depth details of anything scary (however, there are descriptions of the type of horror game they play!) a/n: tbh i’m not the biggest fan of horror games, but i do enjoy peoples' reactions to playing them, so i thought it’d be fun to picture how the boys would play hehe

𝒁𝑨𝒀𝑵𝑬

You're playing an exploration-focused game set in a hospital. The main character is a patient who seems to be having visions of their past.

You take the controls, and he lets you sit in his lap. Only if you get too scared or rage quits does he take the controller from you to play.

“No!” You cry out when the hiding spot you put your character in is discovered by the creature. You bury your face into Zayne’s arm, frightened by the sudden attack.

Defeated, you hang your head and wordlessly raise the controller towards him.

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around you to take it from your hands. “I’m guessing that means you’re tapping out for now?”

Snuggling deeper into his chest, you sigh. “Yep, you’re subbing in.”

Zayne manoeuvres the character carefully around the abandoned hospital and you hold your breath. The silence of his concentration is occasionally broken by your gasp seeing the creature stalking right past the character. Miraculously, he manages to evade and escape on his first try.

“We did it!” You cheer with relief.

“We?" He lifts a brow. "If I’m not mistaken, I was the one holding the controller.”

“Well, I was your emotional support!”

If he is scared, he never lets it show. Rather than screams, the most you’ll get out of him is a slight flinch or a curse under his breath. He actually seems to be more frustrated than frightened.

He’s an ace detective when it comes to putting clues together and figuring out the mystery! Lowkey a lore gatherer.

“I see… so these hallucinations are simply a manifestation of the main character’s guilt.” He's absorbed in the inventory screen, sifting through all the collected notes and letters. “Zayne, I think we’ve spent more time reading than actually playing...”

𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹

You’re playing a survival game set in space. The main character is a lone astronaut on a space station who must defeat an extraterrestrial monster.

You two alternate between who’s in charge of controls based on each save point.

When he does get scared, he reacts by dodging out of the way in real life as if the alien is actually coming through the screen.

Xavier doesn’t have the most experience with video games, so it takes him a little bit to understand the mechanics. Despite this inexperience, he still clutches it anyway. It also pushes him to try over and over again even if he fails multiple times.

"Xavier, let me have a go at it if you can’t get past this.”

This is his third go at defeating the monster in the final stage of the game. He shakes his head fervently. “I can do this. If you think about it, this is just like evading a wanderer’s attacks.” There’s a determined look in his eyes. “I should be good at this.”

You poke his shoulder. “Well, the problem is that the character in-game doesn’t have your evol to help them out.”

Xavier hums thoughtfully. “They have a sword though. I know how to use a sword.”

The innocence of his tone strikes you through your heart and you can't say anything to refute his logic. Maybe real-life sword skills can transfer to in-game controls. You give in. “Okay, you get one more go at it! I know you can do this."

Your encouragement renews his spirit. He lifts up a fist. “I’ll get it this time for sure.”

Easily gets side tracked from the main quest and wants to explore every nook and cranny. Collectables and achievements? This might be the first time Xavier stays awake because he’s getting a one-hundred percent completion rate.

Questions the survivability of the main character and the realism of the situation.

How can drinking medicine instantaneously cure the character’s wounds? How is the character still walking after being bitten in the leg? Beings from a different planet don’t actually look like this you know…

𝑹𝑨𝑭𝑨𝒀𝑬𝑳

You’re playing an indie game set in an abandoned mansion. The main character has inherited this house from their grandfather, who was a wealthy collector of occult art pieces.

He wants to be in-charge of all the controls and lets you cuddle against his side. You observe his gameplay like you're watching a movie.

Tries his best to maintain his composure to show you just how calm, cool and collected he can be. However, he ends up jumping around every corner he turns.

He either moves really slowly because he can’t stand not knowing where the phantoms are lurking, or will charge straight in to get it over and done with.

“This doesn’t scare me. I’m just being cautious,” he’ll say defensively, leaning into your shoulder more as he slowly moves the controls to pan the camera around the empty room. His efforts are futile as the phantom zooms past the open door behind the character, accompanied by a piercing sound cue.

Rafayel’s shriek drowns out yours, as your scream swiftly turns into a fit of laughter.

“Your scream scared me more-” your words come out in bits and pieces between your cackles, “than the actual jumpscare!"

He’s red in the face, offended by how amused you were at his suffering.

“My life is in mortal danger, and you’re laughing at me?!” He tries to stay indignant, but he can’t help but crack a smile at how lost in laughter you are.

Has a genuine appreciation for the art direction of the game. He loves how atmospheric it is and compliments the stylistic choices. He actually chose this game just because the reviews raved about how good the visuals were.

“This is a nice house, like look at all this antique decor. You think we could live in a place like this someday?” You shiver. “A haunted mansion infested with ghosts? I think I’ll pass…”

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sixosix · 6 months

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requested by anon!! hope u enjoy, warning for profanity, fluff

As soon as Wanderer’s eyes laid upon the ball of fluff in your palms, he had said with a disdainful glare to “discard of that at once.”

But you aren’t having any of it. The little kitten curled up by your chest is looking up at you so adorably that you simply can’t discard it, no matter what your boyfriend might say. In fact, the shade of the cat reminds you of his eyes—but saying that would provoke him further, and you’re already on thin ice, letting the cute stray run around your shared home while he makes a face at each sight of its fur.

You coo as the kitten licks your nose when you hold him up to your face. “Do I name him after you? Can I name him after you? I’m naming him after you.”

His eyes narrow, glaring at the impossibly tiny space between you and the animal. “You are not naming it after me.”

“Kuni,” you negotiate. Not that he has a choice anyway because you already have your mind set on it. “Kuni, baby, are you hungry? Do you want some food?”

Your Kunikuzushi bristles, hackles rising. “Seriously? You’re doing this?”

The cat, as if beckoned by his voice, paws at him. “Meow,” the little kitten says softly. Wanderer, to the cat’s dismay, doesn’t respond; he simply rises from his seat and leaves.

So it’s established that you’ve long accepted that Wanderer is not fond of your new pet.

A crying shame because the cat adores him. You don’t know if there’s anything deep to his hatred for your new stray or if he’s just jealous that your undivided attention is no longer on him, but you took pity and decided to own the responsibility of taking care of it.

Which makes it a surprise to come home one day and see your boyfriend nestled against your bed with the kitten curled up on his chest, meowing as he smiles faintly and rubs its head with a finger.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re hungry again?” he murmurs. If you had been in another room, you wouldn't have heard it yourself. “Don’t get too greedy.”

Your breath hitches, too afraid to shatter this moment by bursting into the room. Then again, you should’ve realized that the cat has been sticking too long around him too often without something at play. Perhaps the reason why it’s so fond of your boyfriend is because of secret tender moments like this.

“Your owner will get mad at me if I overfeed you,” he says conspiratorially, rubbing his finger against the cat’s chin while it purrs and nuzzles its face further into his palm for more.

Your heart melts, a tiny noise escaping your lips at the sight of the ever-so-haughty Wanderer on the bed, all but cuddling with your pet.

Wanderer’s eyes snap the crack of the door, perfectly meeting yours as if he knew all along that you were there. “Not a word.”

You gasp, enough to startle Wanderer and make him jump but not enough to wake the sleeping kitten on his hat. Lambad’s Tavern is a little empty, with only an adult or two hanging around to drink their sorrows away or loosen up to their heart's content. And you and your boyfriend are tucked in the far corner, where no one would bother to peep.

“Kunikuzushi!” you cry out, hands hovering around his head in panic. “Kuni, careful, what if Kuni falls?”

Kunikuzushi the human(?)’s face twists in confusion. “You should have never named it that.”

“Kuni,” you hiss as his movements have caused the cat to stir, yet miraculously not wake. “Don’t let him fall, ‘kay? God, I can’t bring myself to even leave my seat.”

He sighs, long and heavy. “I’m not going to drop him. Have more faith in me, will you? I have a better sense of balance than any of you in this Tavern combined.”

“But what if he falls and you accidentally attack him by trying to save him?”

“I’m not gonna wind blade the fucking cat.”

You’re staring at the kitten, who is, unfortunately, looking all too much at home on Wanderer’s hat as if it’s more comfortable than his own bed at home. It’s even worse that Wanderer spoils the cat rotten and lets him sleep wherever he wants. Now, wherever he walks, he has a tiny animal asleep on the top of his head.

Wanderer huffs, squeezing your mouth with a hand to prevent you from arguing. “If you love the cat, you will get us food and avoid waking it up with your yapping, got it?”

“Aw,” you smile, “you don’t wanna wake him up?”

He scowls. “Are you going to let us starve?”

The sight of him and the kitten looks too adorable. You can’t resist from agreeing to whatever Kuni the human is ordering you to do. You rise from your seat, leaving but not forgetting to kiss the cat’s head and Wanderer’s cheek, who flushes brightly and grumbles but doesn’t complain.

#606:GENSHIN #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x you #genshin impact x you #wanderer x you #genshin x reader #genshin drabble #scaramouche drabble #wanderer fluff

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alessiasfreckles · 2 months

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amnesia (ona batlle x reader)

You wake up in the hospital with no memory of who you are or anything about your life, but a pretty brunette is by your bedside, so it can't be all bad, right?

warnings: memory loss, car accident mention, hospital

a/n: part 2 here!

----------

“She’s awake!”

Squinting against the harsh light, you slowly opened your eyes, taking in your surroundings. You were lying in bed in a room with white and grey walls and bright overhead lights. The bedsheet covering you was soft against your hands.

You blinked, looking around the room. Four people were stood around you, a woman in a white coat, a man in light blue scrubs, and two young women in everyday clothes. The two women looked on the verge of tears, but you weren’t sure why.

Opening your mouth to speak, you gagged as you realised your throat was obstructed by something. The realisation quickly turned to panic, feeling like you were being choked, unable to breathe. One of the younger women turned to the woman in white, who you were pretty sure was a doctor, and spoke rapidly in a language you couldn’t understand.

The doctor and the man, who you decided was probably a nurse, quickly worked to remove the tube from your throat. Eyes watering, you coughed and rubbed your throat, glad to be free of it. When you opened your mouth to speak again, the doctor interrupted you gently.

“Careful,” she said. “Don’t strain yourself.”

“Wh- where am I?” you asked. Your voice was hoarse, and your tongue felt like sandpaper. “Is this a hospital?”

The two women exchanged anxious glances.

“Yes, this is the Hospital de Barcelona,” the doctor told you. Barcelona, huh. That explained her accent. “Do you remember why you’re here?”

You frowned, shaking your head. Now that she mentioned it, you had no idea what you were doing there.

“That’s okay. It’s perfectly normal not to remember much. You were in an accident. You were hit by a car. Miraculously, you only broke some bones in your right leg, but you hit your head pretty hard. You’ve been in a coma since the accident, 15 days ago.”

Your mind raced as you took in the information. Why couldn’t you remember any of it? Why couldn’t you remember anything? Not even-

“Now, can you tell me your name?” the doctor asked, interrupting your stream of thought.

Not even your name.

“I- I don’t know, I don’t know my name, why don’t I remember my name?” you asked frantically. You tried to sit up but stopped as a wave of pain radiated throughout your body, crashing over you. One of the women reached out, putting a hand on your shoulder.

The doctor stayed for a while, explaining to you again and again what had happened. You’d been hit by a car. You’d hit your head. You’d been in a coma for the past 15 days. You’d been hit by a car. You’d hit your head. You’d been in a coma for the past 15 days. Over and over again, until it sunk in.

She spoke to the two women before she left, again in a language you didn’t understand, the two glancing over at you with worried faces, the doctor’s face reassuring and kind. Once she was gone, the two women came over to your bedside. Tears brimmed in their eyes, but they were both trying to smile at you.

“Hola, mija,” one of the women said. She had blonde hair with dark roots and kind eyes, but she looked tired.

“Do- do you remember me? Us?” the other woman asked, gesturing to herself and the blonde. Her hair was darker, and freckles were scattered across her nose and cheeks. Your eyes raked over her sharp jawbones, her angular face. Surely you would know if you’d met someone like her before.

You shook your head slowly.

The brunette swallowed back a sob, the blonde holding her arm tightly.

“It’s okay, that’s okay,” the blonde said. “The doctor said there was a high chance of this happening. That she wouldn’t remember us. It’s okay.”

“Who are you?” you asked, voice quiet.

“I’m Ona. I’m, uh, we play together,” the brunette told you, and the blonde looked at her sharply for just a second before looking back at you.

“And I’m Alexia. Your teammate and friend.”

Playing together? Teammate?

“Football!” you blurted out suddenly. You’re not sure how you knew, but you had this deep, innate sense that football is important to you. More than important, it’s your whole life. “I play football, right?”

The blonde, Alexia, let out a laugh of relief. “Si! You play football! We all play together, here in Barcelona.”

She squeezed Ona’s arm, who smiled tearfully.

“So, I’m guessing we’re all pretty close, right? Surely there’s a reason you’re here,” you said bluntly, wincing at the pain in your head.

“We’re your best friends,” Ona said quickly, before Alexia could open her mouth.

“That’s… right,” Alexia said slowly. “I’m the capitana of our team, and we’re best friends. And you and Ona are also… best friends.”

You nodded, feeling exhausted suddenly. “Thank you both for being here, then. I think I’m going to sleep now, if that’s okay?”

“Of course!” Ona said, jumping up. “We’ll be here when you wake up, okay?”

You were asleep before the two had even left the room. Once they were in the hallway, the door to your private hospital room shut, Alexia turned to face Ona.

“What was that?” Alexia asked her, voice hushed, as though you’d be able to hear them through the door.

“What do you mean?” Ona shifted uncomfortably, not meeting the blonde’s eyes.

“Why did you tell her you’re just friends? Why didn’t you tell her that you’re dating?!”

#hannah writes fics #haven't decided yet whether this is going to be fluffy or angsty #let me know which i should do #also.... if it's going to turn into alexia x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle x reader fluff #ona batlle fanfic #ona batlle imagine #woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso fanfic

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nanaslutt · 1 month

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playing with transmasc!Gojo’s pussy under the table at an important meeting ˃̵ᴗ˂̵

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

ʚ cont: gojussy, public fingering, clit play, teasing, cum eating

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Gojo gripped his thighs with presusre hard enough to leave bruises on his porcelain skin. Your fingers were relentless against his clit as you used two fingers to rub the enlarged bud in circles, paying close attention to the raw tip of it. Gojo's face twitched as he tried to contain his reactions to your teasing.

The man constantly bit his lips over and over, making them raw and red from all the attention. Thank god for his blindfold, or all the important people chatting around at the table would notice his eyebrows raising and scrunching together in pleasure, his eyes twitching and rolling back in his head; that is if they couldn't tell from all the movement that could be seen from outside the blindfold.

You decided to push your luck, knowing this was working him up. You slid your fingers away from his clit and down further, teasing at his wet entrance. Gojo's leg bounced against the floor, needing some kind of outlet to release his body's need to squirm and move around. One of Gojo's hands shot off of his own thigh and gripped your own harshly, his fingers digging into your skin with the same intensity he was gripping himself.

You didn't even flinch at the contact, instead your own arousal grew as you knew exactly how much this was turning him on now. Gojo cursed to himself when one of the men at the table turned to him and asked him a follow-up question to a point another member of the group made. "His idea sounded find." Gojo rushed, his voice sounding strained and annoyed at his little interruption of pleasure. He hoped his answer made sense, and he was relieved when they averted their attention back to the first man.

Gojo spread his legs instinctively when you started rubbing his soaked entrance with a finger, just teasing it through his folds, rubbing his wetness around. You leaned into Gojo and pretended like you were fixing his jacket to whisper, "Does it feel good?" You watched as a Gojo cracked a smile, his teeth briefly biting his lips before his tongue soothed over it.

His large hand patted your thigh a couple of times before he turned to look at you, smile still on his face. "It would feel better if you put them in," Gojo replied cockily, keeping his voice down so only you would hear it. You smiled in turn and looked away from him at the same time you sunk your fingers into his cunt. Gojo's jaw dropped open before he corrected his little slip and bit down on his teeth, his jaw muscles clenching under the weight of them.

At the angle you were in, it was hard to thrust your fingers in very far, but you were able to curl your fingers up repeatedly into his g-spot, your fingers just deep enough to stimulate the sensitive patch inside him. Gojo thrust his hips up into your hand, his body sliding down the booth a bit as his legs spread even further, giving you more room to work. He sure was shameless.

It was miraculous no one had noticed what you two were up to by now, but the thrill of the situation just made the moment that much more exciting. Gojo's pants and boxers were tight against your hand, keeping your palm pressed firmly against his fat clit, meaning each time you curled your fingers up inside that spongey spot inside him that made him drool, your palm rubbed just right against his clit.

Gojo's hand gripped your thigh higher. You looked over at him from the corner of your eye, keeping your head forward. Gojo's breathing was still like he was holding his breath for a few seconds before he released it and let himself take a few quick breaths of air into his lungs. He always did this when he was trying to cum quickly, something about the oxygen deprivation making his orgasm come on faster.

You smiled and looked forward again as someone asked your input on the topic at hand, which you were subconsciously listening to. Gojo wanted to laugh at how nonchalantly you answered the man's question while you had your fingers stuffed inside his pussy. Gojo had to bite down on his teeth to prevent a choked moan from slipping through his lips when you angled your wrist down more so you could fuck your fingers deeper inside him.

He felt like bursting out in laughter. He was so close to cumming and you were still talking to the people around you. At least that would take the attention off him. He just hoped no one would glance in his direction even for a moment since you were sat thigh to thigh with him, your shoulders practically touching.

Rapid patting of Gojo's hand against your thigh made you stutter in your answer, as you knew exactly what that meant. You quickly passed the topic onto someone else so you could put your focus on what you were doing under the table. You looked up at Gojo, who was facing front, his body wiggling and twitching every so often.

You smiled and looked away, resting the side of your head against his shoulder. Gojo gripped your wrist harshly, his legs shaking and hips thrusting sloppily and shallowly into your hand. He was so close. You started rubbing your hand in a circular motion, jolting your fingers around inside him while still stimulating his g-spot and providing his clit some stronger relief in the meantime.

You once again watched out of the corner of your eye as Gojo's jaw muscles clenched and unclenched rapidly, the corner of his mouth twitching in tandem as he was brought right up to the edge. Just before Gojo came, the table burst out into a fit of laughter at a joke one of the men said, providing the perfect cover for any of Gojo's noises to slip out while he came.

Gojo's shaky thighs snapped shut against your hand when his orgasm hit him, his cunt squeezing around your fingers with each wave of his high that hit him. Only you were close enough to hear the breathy whimpers and choked whines that slipped through his nose, most of the sound getting caught in his throat. You continued curling your fingers against his sweet spot inside him, helping him ride out his orgasm.

Most of the movement from his abdomen clenching and his body curling in on itself was hidden by his clothes, so nothing was suspicious. Gojo's thighs relaxed when he came down from his orgasm, letting you pull your fingers out from his greedy, soaked pussy and out from his pants. Gojo hissed when your wet fingers rubbed over his clit on the way out, making you smile.

Gojo quickly adjusted his now soggy boxers and zipped his pants back up, crossing one leg over the other to help with how sensitive he still felt after cumming. Gojo turned his head to look at you, a smile on his face as he must have noticed how wet your fingers were. He expected you to wipe his cum off on the napkin in front of you, so it made his pussy ache when you sucked your fingers into your mouth quickly and licked off any remaining juices.

"Shameless," Gojo whispered, shaking his head as he placed his hand back on your thigh, rubbing you soothingly. "Says the man who just had a public orgasm on my fingers." You shot back, placing your hand on top of his and caressing his palm with your fingers. Gojo was starting to think these meetings weren't half bad after all.

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foldingfittedsheets · 2 months

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We had the most egregiously evil little pony horse when I was growing up. I know everyone says that. Ponies are one of the animals that truly understand how to commit crimes but she was really deeply atrocious. One time she tried to murder me. Her name was Fancy.

I feel I should slightly explain here. See, my parents bought two acres with a house and a barn and pasturage and went “We’re farmers now!” They had absolutely no idea what they were doing. And at a certain point along that journey my mom got her hands on a horse. Technically she was half pony half horse so she was this weird middle size.

Fancy belonged to a friend of hers and he showed her how to saddle Fancy. And that was it. That was all we knew about this horse. So my mom brings her home and saddles her and we decide to go for a ride on this new creature in our lives. But Fancy, being the savvy bitch she was, was far too canny for our dumb asses.

Her maiden ride went to my older brother and ended rather abruptly when the saddle slid completely sideways and my brother toppled off her, miraculously unharmed but unwilling to ever try again. This made me like Fancy somewhat, because I hated my brother.

Those familiar with horse trickery would have caught her ruse but Fancy had deliberately held her breath to make the saddle seem tight enough. But in stride she let the breath out, the saddle loosened, and my brother came toppling down. She planned that fuckup.

I was a bit more game, being a dedicated horse girl. I wanted to succeed where my loathsome brother had failed. Keep in mind: none of us had ever ridden. We had no idea what we were doing, and in the only defense I’ll ever make of that hoofed demon it was probably not pleasant to have a human flopping on her back like a sack of potatoes. But I paraded around in a circle until she scraped my leg against a fence post. I lasted longer than my brother but had to admit riding an animal radiating malice at you is not comfortable.

We didn’t really ride Fancy much after that. She was a decorative aspect to the fields. Sometimes I’d sit on her bare back while she was eating. Every so often she’d buck me off for assuming familiarity with her.

But Fany's coup de grâce took several months. Most of the pasturage had electric fence running along it to keep the livestock from testing the fences or getting a taste for freedom. My parents were constantly moving fence posts and reallocating land to different purposes which is how one of the major gates ended up with electric fence running over top. During a move the wire got left up from the last border and now it was strung over what should have been an open passage.

I was taking a ride on Fancy, living in a fantasy that I had any idea what I was doing. My mom was out working in the yard, and as she passed through she left the gate open, forgetting the wire hazard. You know who didn't forget?

Fancy.

She beelined for the open gate and I realized a second too late what her plan was. I hauled back on the reins with all my strength but she powered through, charging at the wire. If I'd caught on sooner I could have tipped forward and probably cleared it.

It was roughly chest height. But she was too savvy, keeping a slow pace right up until the passage, and I didn't have time to react. The thought of getting electrocuted sent me down into a terrified backward limbo, desperately trying to flatten myself along her back.

It almost worked. But instead the wire caught under my chin, pressing back into my neck like a garrote. The only good news was that the wire wasn't live, but I was still in terrible danger. I squealed and wiggled and managed to twist my neck enough that the wire scraped over my face instead of pressing deeper. Once we were through Fancy stopped and turned to regard me, disappointed that her assassination had failed. My neck was bleeding but my head remained attached.

My mother was absolutely terrified and I was pretty shaken myself. We unsaddled Fancy for the last time, as full on murder was a bit more than I was willing to bear for the sake of pretending to be a fantasy hero on an epic journey. My neck still has a faint scar from her homicidal tendencies.

Fancy got to remain a decorative horse for many years after that, free of our attempts to ride her. Her last torment was when my mother decided to try to breed her to achieve an animal that was less interested in murder.

But Fancy, true to form, brutally attacked the stallion sent to service her, even when hopped up on horny hormones. There would be no foals from Fancy, and her saga ended when we sold her to another unlucky soul.

#ramblies #writing #story #funny story #true story #horses #horse #horse girl #ffs foibles #pony

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95rkives · 2 months

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wishes and kisses⼂m.yg

summary: sneaking into his studio with burnt homemade cupcakes to celebrate his birthday.

pairings: producer!yoongi x fem!reader

genre/warnings: established relationship, lover boy yoongi xx, light suggestive themes, fluff

wc: 0.8k

a/n: i’m back to celebrate the man who was send as an apology to all women!! happy birthday, please send signs you’re alive xxxx, everyone.

You hastily left 15 minutes before the clock struck 12.

You didn’t bother cleaning up the kitchen. You didn’t bother putting the milk back in the fridge. You didn’t bother catching a coat in your haste. You didn’t even bother locking the door behind you.

You silently hoped against the odds that he wouldn't miraculously decide to come home early this evening as you hurried through the vibrant streets of Seoul. Clutching a beautifully wrapped bag containing cupcakes that you weren't particularly proud of, you were driven by the closure of patisseries and bakeries. The urgency to surprise him tonight made waiting until morning seem too delayed.

Baking was among your cherished pastimes, so when the cupcakes emerged burnt, you nearly spiraled into a meltdown. The haste during a post-work shower led to this mishap, revealing that multitasking wasn’t your forte.

Stumbling through HYBE’s building, you were greeted by the familiar face of a guard whose shift ended at midnight. Relief flooded over you as your eyes met, signaling that you still had time.

Huffing and puffing from all the running, you allowed yourself leisurely steps toward the studio. Along the quiet hallway, you casually checked a wall clock. 3 minutes to 12.

Ruffling your bangs into place, you wiped away the beads of sweat trickling down your temples. Sucking in the inside of your cheeks, you opened the door to unveil the obsidian shade of your boyfriend's mullet, complemented by matching black headphones.

You bite back a smile as he remained unaware of your presence. Leaning back against the door, it softly clicked shut.

You observed him reclining in his studio chair, enveloped by its plush leather cushions. As he adjusted the headpiece around his neck, you took it as your cue to speak.

"Happy birthday," He flinched, and you grinned. His head snapped back so swiftly that the chair squeaked, spinning him around with the force of his movement.

"Baby," the pet name slipped past his lips in a sigh of relief, and you could physically see his muscles relax. All the days tension seemed to melt away from his features, flowing out the window like a gentle breeze.

"That’s tomorrow," his head tipped back as you stand above him, inviting the chaste kiss you bestow upon his lips.

"Is it?" you teased as he pulled you onto his lap, the small white bag finding its place on yours. He confirmed your words with a glance at the clock, earning you his lazy, gummy smile.

"Oh," he breathed cheekily. Bowing his head, his forehead nestled on the curve of your shoulder, his arm gracefully snaking around your waist.

It took him a heartbeat for his gaze to zero in on the bag resting on your lap, and his free hand sought out your fingers entwined around the silk straps. "What d’you get me?" he rasped in a soft murmur, a gentle reminder of the surprise that had turned your kitchen upside down.

You leaned your cheek on his head, glancing down as you skillfully undid the bow, revealing two cupcakes—one adorned with white frosting, the other with a pastel shade of blue.

"You baked these?" he grinned, lifting his head to catch a glimpse of your profile. He noticed the way your teeth gently sank into your bottom lip as you smiled sheepishly, so subtle that one might miss it, but not him.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

"M’yeah," you giggled softly as his lips brushed the back of your ear, his hand trailing up your thigh, squeezing gently as it settled. Each kiss he bestowed was accompanied by the warmth of his breath, laughter dancing against your skin.

"Feed me some?" he murmured against your skin, his lips delicately gliding over your cheek. All you could sense was his suppressed smile as he neared the corner of your mouth, prompting you to tilt your head to the side, evading him.

"No," you teased.

"What..." he sulked, his hands squeezing your waist and thigh simultaneously, pressing you closer against his chest. He watched as your lips twitched in a grin mirroring his own, slowly forming as his forehead came to rest against your temple.

"Burnt them," you said, scrunching up your nose, and he had to bite his bottom lip to restrain from biting yours.

“No way.” he mocked.

“Way.” you whine.

"Okay," he laughed breathily, reaching into the box to scoop a finger off the blue frosting. "Let's taste test." You observed as the finger neared your mouth, only for him to smear it on your lips, earning an unamused groan from you.

"Why." you cried out in mock exasperation, your words muffled and drawn out into a whine as his fingers squished your cheeks, molding a pout he pulled into a messy kiss. Amid laughter, groans, and squirming against his mouth, he hummed, "Delish," smirking once he pulled away, rolling his lips into a laugh when you smacked his hand away.

#happy yoongi day #birthday special x #yoongi x reader #bts #yoongi fluff #bts x reader #bts fluff #yoongi drabble

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romanoffsbish · 2 months

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Home Training

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

Wanda tries to tell you what to do after a long day of work, so you put her in her place | WC: 1,722

18+ | Minors DNI

Wanda was panting, the way she always did when you had her ready to tip over the edge. This time though there was an underlying tension, and that was because instead of fucking her senseless you simply observed.

The brunette was needy and borderline aggressive with her words when you got home from work, exhausted.

"You left me a mess this morning, so fix it mommy!"

——

Truthfully, she should be thankful you hadn't tossed her across the bed and made her cheeks bright red.

No, instead you told her to use her own fingers and as good as they were, something you knew intimately, it was just never the same for her after finding yours.

Her attraction to you actually stemmed from watching you play a game of table tennis with Natasha, the way you gripped the paddle and curled and uncurled your fingers in brief moments of rest unlocked her desire.

Now the woman loved you more than life itself, but in this moment she likened you to the devil herself with the way you left her to build an orgasm up all alone.

"Mommy please," she cried—on the edge of something miraculous, but then you crushed her hopes. "Stop."

"Wh-what?" Wanda kept going, her slick fingers defiant in their race to send her crashing into bliss.

You tutted, "careful now baby, or I won't be nice."

Wanda whined but did as you said, bringing her fingers to a standstill as you slowly approached the bed, your left hand fell to her knee to push her legs out even wider, her other leg having naturally followed.

"I knew my good girl was in there somewhere," you teased the woman who merely mewled as she felt her walls flutter in desperation around her stilled fingers. "Now take your fingers out for mommy; don't pout."

Wanda, reluctantly, removed her fingers and went to lay them against her tensed stomach but you caught her wrist and seamlessly slipped the delicacy into your mouth as your own fingers replaced hers in an instant.

"Oh."

It was too much for her, to feel you ruthlessly jab into her g-spot after every slow, calculated thrust all while you tenderly licked her own fingers clean; she came.

While your eyes darkened hers widened in fear, it was a rookie mistake to forget to ask you, but it was like you were jonesing for her to make another one. There was a domineering glint in your eyes to confirm that.

You released her fingers with a pop, and sneered, "It looks like someone forgot her house training, hm?"

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, her hands reaching out to try and pull you in for a kiss meant to distract, but unlike her you weren't prone to bouts of irrationality.

"No matter," you decided, voice too calm for her to believe you would let this go, you never did before. "You'll ride mommy's face until you're collapsing."

There it was... Wanda's favorite worst nightmare.

"Help mommy undress," you commanded, uncaring that she was still coming down from her high and likely preparing to beg you for another punishment. One that didn't require her to once again, do most of the work.

Her favorite punishment, as she was indeed a masochist, was for you to fuck her well into the double digits. To leave her pussy numbed, raw and red. Those nights are usually because some idiot hits on her and instead of leaning into the well known knowledge that Wanda would never leave you, you let the jealousy win.

If only that were the case of tonight's events...

After a moment of recollecting herself Wanda was perched up on her knees, shakily as she adjusted to being upright in her current hazed state. Just as soon as she got your suit jacket off you laid your hands on her hips to stabilize her, above all else you cared deeply for your girlfriend's safety. No accidental bruises would ever mar her incredibly soft, sun-kissed skin, only the freckles that reflected a day spent by the pool and your calculated imprints as you yanked her into a kiss.

It was just as she finished unbuttoning your polo, it had slipped off your shoulders and hung off your back as you chose to break the momentum. Or at least you tried to, you were sloppy and rather rough but she still managed to unzip your pencil skirt and push it down.

In a natural fashion she leaned into the affection, and it was then that you abruptly ended the lip lock. A soft whine of protest begged to leave her throat but you watched the muscle bob as she swiftly swallowed it.

"Get your clamps," you mumbled against her cheek with a smirk as she froze. "The one with the chain."

Wanda obediently entered your walk in closet to collect the toy you'd requested, along with the bullet vibe as you called in after her as you were lying down to wait.

There was a subtle shake in her legs that you caught as she nervously approached, her knees pressed to the end of the mattress and in seconds she was straddling your thighs, waiting patiently for your next command.

Wordlessly you kneaded her perky breasts, giving her that warm, comforting touch she craved before you let the cold metal snap around her sensitive nipples. As a stability test you yanked on the chain and chuckled as she moaned, her hot breath fanning over your face.

"Don't play games now baby," you warned her, the octave drop in your tone made her squirm in need. "Mommy knows your limits, so don't try to fake it."

Wanda nodded dumbly, her easy submission was something you found endearing. So naturally, you pecked her lips gently before going back to stern.

There was no point in delaying the inevitable, so the woman shimmied the rest of her way up your body until you were in control of the pace. You gripped her by the hips and situated her body so that her cunt hovered directly over your mouth, then you pulled her down and slid your hands down to hold her thighs.

In moments like these you knew Wanda worried that she would suffocate you with her chubby thighs, but you never shared in her concern. Not only were you once a competitive swimmer, so you were trained to hold your breath, but you didn't mind the challenge.

If the choice was between breathing and munching you would always pick the latter as it brought you more joy.

The more she moaned, your name leaving her lips like a saccharine prayer, the less you needed to breathe. There was no scientific explanation, but all you knew was Wanda was a temptation you'd always give in to.

It was like you had extra oxygen reserved for the moments where you'd bury yourself in her for minutes on end. Nothing but the slurping of your mouth could be heard, not even tiny gasps of air from either of you.

"I-I'm close," she pointlessly whispered, it was clear as you found it near impossible to move your tongue in and out of her constricting hole, if not for her slick that was so abundant it dripped down onto your chest you would never have been able to finish her off so fast.

Wanda's body slumped forward, face smushed into the headboard as she tried to breathe through her orgasm. Which was damn near impossible as you forced her body back upright and growled against her sensitivity, "Don't start misbehaving now honey, ride my face!"

This time your hands on her hip were merely there to keep her upright, no longer did you guide her body. Wanda whined in various ways, most pleasurable but a handful were in protest to your cruel expectations.

Keeping her hips in sync with your vivacious tongue was no easy feat and she was already tired as it was. There was no end to the torture either as you made her cum three more times, alternating between using your mouth to stimulate her clit and the powerful vibrator.

"N-no more," Wanda cried, "mommy please, 'm sorry."

"One more," you refused to relent, knowing she was so close to falling apart in the way you admired the most.

Wanda cried but obeyed, shakily rocking her body and letting you know with her pornographic moans that the pleasure well outweighed the suffering she proclaimed with her pleaded protests for reprieve. Truthfully, she hated having to do all of the work, so for the last few seconds before her release you guided her by the hips and yanked on the forgotten about nipple clamps.

The brunette completed her task as she crumbled into the headboard a panting mess, and she remained just like that for several moments before you bit her thigh. A reminder to let you breathe, worried green eyes gazed down as she shimmied back and you shook your head with a gentle smile and adoring eyes. "Kisses?"

Wanda beamed at the offer and immediately laid her body atop of yours and kissed you passionately. A filthy feeling overcame her as she tasted her arousal and you felt her excitement with the way her tongue traced over your lips and even briefly dipped down onto your chin.

Several minutes passed as you were lost in the softer intimacy until you felt her chest shake against yours. You rolled your eyes behind your lids before ending the lip-lock, sticking to your conviction to ensure she took a breath even when she whimpered and tried again.

"Lay down," you softly said and she did so easily, almost as if she realized later than you how tired she was. Both of your eyes closed and peace settled in.

A soft voice broke the tranquility, "what about you?"

"You don't have to baby," you reminded your lover who had already snuggled atop of you, but she persisted on stubbornly as her lips pressed to your neck and her hand roamed over your side en route to your core.

"I want to mommy," her fingers had entered you with conviction, but the pleasurable movement she offered died down within seconds. A soft chuckle left you as you caught her calm face, "such a pillow princess..."

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