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#i'm taking advantage of it now and just DRAW
blue-ink-pearls · 4 hours
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So, I know people are really desperate for Sandra Lynn to have hooked up with Pamela Dawn instead of Bobby Dawn, and I completely understand that!* Bobby Dawn is slimy and awful and we don't know much about Pamela, so maybe she's better? But it is 100% Bobby Dawn for two very clear reasons:
Sklonda literally said it was him
Bobby Dawn has always been a predator
The first thing we learn about Sandra Lynn's affair during Spring Break Sophomore Year was that she had just left Aguefort (she dropped out her senior year and got a diploma later on) and she was very young. She was asked to join an established adventuring party of people who were older than her and that had lost one of its members. She fell in love with another member of the party that was already in a relationship, they had an affair, and then when the affair was discovered, Sandra Lynn was blamed, kicked out of the party, and her name was smeared as far and wide as possible by the person who had taken advantage of her so that person could absolve themselves, likely in the eyes of their partner and the party.
So what we can immediately deduce from this is that Sandra Lynn was an outsider to her new adventuring party, likely looked down on as "just a kid", maybe disdained for being a dropout, and most definitely resented for taking the place of the (presumably) dead party member. She was in actively dangerous and stressful situations while questing with the party and she probably had little support from the group during that time.
Sandra Lynn was very very vulnerable.
When he met Sandra Lynn, Bobby Dawn would have been about 20 years younger than he is now, likely in his late 30s/early 40s.** Probably still handsome, still a "dashing" active adventurer. He was married to Pamela already (not just in an established relationship), since he had a child by then that was close to grown and I don't think the Church of Sol would be very happy about a child out of wedlock. He would have been a cleric of Sol and probably still preaching "the good word of Sol" but it likely wouldn't have been constant. You can't give sermons while fighting monsters. I'm sure he even saved Sandra Lynn's life a few times!
The thing about Bobby Dawn being a televangelist now, but not then, is that when he was young, he was probably just as good at persuasion, at finding vulnerable people and exploiting their weaknesses to get what he wanted, and yet he hadn't made a name for himself as a televangelist, so people wouldn't know to be wary of him trying to convert or manipulate them.
The scene between Bobby and Kristen, when Kristen is pretending that Cassandra died shows exactly what kind of terrible person Bobby really is. He is happy to find Kristen devastated, that she is having "a real dark night of the soul" and needs guidance. He refuses to help Kristen stay at Aguefort (something that's within his power), despite knowing how beneficial that would be to her well-being, because that goes against his own goals. He is smug and condescending and cruel. He is preying on Kristen's devastation and vulnerability (not knowing it's an act), to draw her back into the fold of the Church of Helio/Sol.
The person who did that to Kristen, is the exact same person who took advantage of Sandra Lynn when she was still basically a kid, just out of high school. He took advantage of her feelings for him, her inexperience and isolation. And then, when they were discovered, he threw her away and made her the villain so he could get away with it.
He ruined Sandra Lynn's life. Yes, she's happy now with her daughter, her partner, and the beautiful home they've made at Mordred Manor with Adaine, Kristen, Lydia, Ragh, Tracker, Zayn, Aelwyn, Boggy, and 15 cats. But Sandra Lynn ended up with self-esteem and relationship issues that she is still dealing with to this day. Those issues ruined her marriage, could have ruined her relationship with Jawbone, and likely played a hand in the difficulties between her and Fig in Freshman Year, as Sandra Lynn saw her daughter take her first steps into the world of adventuring.
Because Sandra Lynn first wanted to be an adventurer and Bobby Dawn took that away from her, just like he tried to do to Kristen.
Bobby Dawn has shaped his career as a high priest of Sol and as a televangelist by portraying himself as the epitome of righteousness. He is rotten to the core, a predator in a job where he is meant to help people, and I CANNOT WAIT to see the Bad Kids take him down.
*I don't really understand it. Pamela Dawn is likely just as bad as Bobby. She's the chief paladin of the church of Sol, her husband is a televangelist and a High Priest of Sol, and she would have been around the same age as Bobby and having an affair with a vulnerable young girl who she then kicked out of the group and slandered. It being Pamela would still be awful!
**Even with the assumption that both Bobby Dawn and his child had their kids at a young age, the math still has to take into account that Sandra Lynn's daughter is the same age as Bobby Dawn's GRANDSON.
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okultraoldmanyaoi · 2 months
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that one swap gloomwood au i mentioned
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raveartts · 2 years
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Dinner time! His angel’s heart and some brains :)
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also I wanted to draw sth else* but I got sidetracked by this idea. Like he would SO watch kids’ shows, right. And he would definitely follow the commands the shows give him, like in Dora. He sits too close to the tv bc his mom isn’t here to tell him what to do anymore
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spider-gallery · 5 months
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sam (left) and matt (right), my doggirl and catboy they are BEST FRIENDS and AWFUL FOR EACH OTHER <3 (<< toyhouse link)
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fordaryl · 3 months
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REMEMBER.
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minors dni. 2.6k words. smut. daryl dixon x fem!reader. protective daryl. hint of size kink. strength kink.
It's easy to forget his strength when his touch is always so gentle. When you're safe, he lets you forget everything he's capable of; the reason you've both made it this long.
Safety lets you forget.
And then—when it inevitably all it all goes to shit again—you remember.
"Get in!" he calls through the wall of bodies separating you. He keeps the attention of most of them, but there's a few stumbling in your direction—too many for you to handle alone. "Now!" he shouts as he takes another growling walker down.
It goes against every instinct you have—to leave him to fight this alone. But this was his domain. This was when you did whatever the fuck he told you to do. It was how you survived.
You drag the door of the container open, grunting as the heavy metal fights back. It's a makeshift prison cell, one that was supposed to be filled with live bait for the walkers. It would be if it weren't for Daryl. He was almost single-handedly dismantling whatever fucked up enterprise you'd both stumbled upon.
One of them reaches you before you'd manage to push the gate open enough to slip through.
One is fine. You can handle one.
Turning around to deal with it gives you a split second to check in on Daryl. He's making a dent in the mass of bodies, but it's not enough. Not with the shouts of the living making their way closer.
You kick the walker you've knifed back into the mass of bodies approaching, giving you just enough time to slip through the crack you've made in the sliding door and slam it closed behind you.
Locking it is another story.
You have no hope of accomplishing that.
Still, it's enough for now. It's enough to let Daryl keep his focus where it needs to be as you deal with as many as you can through the bars.
Then one gets shot down. Daryl, is your first thought. But then two are shot down at once. And then the voices reach your ears. Voices are bad. Walkers you can handle. The living was another story. Nothing stoked the fear constantly simmers in your gut like the voices of the living.
They shout over each other, calling directions as they pick off the mass with a spray of bullets. You can't see Daryl anymore. He's either dead or hiding.
Hiding. Hiding. Hiding.
You shift back into one of the dark corners of the container as the shouts draw nearer.
“What the fuck happened?! Don't shoot them you dumb fucks! Get any you can back into holding!”
Any second now... any second they'd find Daryl and your world would end. The living were different. The living were monsters of a different kind.
"They're bunched up around this one!" someone shouts.
You hold your breath.
"Well check it out then!" another demands.
Oh, fuck. You grip your pistol. Your aim was decent. You could take one out, maybe two. But there's a whole group... and they were coming for you.
You scramble to the other far corner as the last of the walkers are cleared from the entrance, hoping to take advantage of the darkest shadows. Daryl would be watching... waiting. Any extra moment you could give him could be vital.
"You better come out now," a man calls from outside. He's just out of your sights, prepared for you to be armed and ready to fight. You'd hoped to have the element of surprise. "I ain't asking."
You know what'll happened when they find you. It's the same thing each time. You're prey to people like these—something to hunt in a world without consequences for that kind of thing.
Your silence buys you less than a minute before the first of them are dragging the metal gate open. If you shoot, they'll shoot back. It's not something you'll survive cornered like this. So you bet on them being the same as the rest. You let them know you're prey.
"Please," you call, as meek and afraid as you can manage—vulnerable. Not a threat. "I'm—I'm unarmed."
Then a bright light blinds you.
"What the fuck?" one of them exclaims. Then, "Where'd the fuck this little thing come from?"
There it was. Little. Thing. You were nothing. You're not a threat. You'd bought Daryl more time.
"Come on out, girl. Come on." They call you like you're a dog, something less than human. That's how they see you. Something to use.
You take a small step forward, still blinded by their flashlights. Daryl was alive. He was alive and hiding and he was waiting for something.
You just had to stay alive.
"What do you... want with me?" you ask, still taking tiny steps towards the light. Weak. Vulnerable. No threat.
You get muffled laughter in response. Guards down. Distracted.
"What do we want? We want a little fun, honey. That's all. Just a bit of fun."
They're flash lights drop as you approach the entrance. They've pulled the gate all the way across.
Five. You count five. If you kill two...
"Why is she alone?" one of them questions. He's younger, a little less distracted.
The rest ignore him. Then one of them has you by the arm, dragging you the rest of the way out of the makeshift cell. They're hands send a wave of repulsion through your body as they grab at you, pulling you around and shoving you in front of them. They may as well be the undead the way their touch feels against your skin.
The young one doesn't move out of the way when you reach him. Instead he stares into you, suspicious and angry. "Who are you with?" he asks. Even then, his gun is lowered. Even to him you aren't a threat.
"Get the fuck out of the way," the man gripping your arm says, clearly irritated and impatient.
"But—"
"Now."
His eyes narrow, but then he steps aside—his back pressed to the wall to let the rest of the men past. It's now that you get a look down into the pit of walkers, the one's they've managed to recapture rather than take out. They reach up towards you, hands grabbing for you.
Then, only a few steps later—you're stopped. The man with his hand wrapped around your elbow leans over your shoulder, his rancid breath invading your nostrils as he speaks. "You alone?" he asks. "You tell me right now."
You blink away the burn threatening to pool tears in your eyes. Were you alone? If you were...
The man's grip tightens, the only warning you get before you're forced to your knees and staring down into the pit of hungry walkers. "Speak," he demands, nails carving into your skin. "I'd hate to waste you like this."
There's two other men behind you. Three surrounding you in total. You could take one out for sure. They hadn't even searched you for weapons. They expected nothing out of you at all.
But then there'd be two, only counting the ones in reaching distance. How long would it take the other two further away to aim their guns in your direction?
You were dying tonight if Daryl was dead, that was certain. Your only hope was that he was waiting and watching... but what would he be waiting for...
Your pistol sits at your hip, a comfortable weight.
You take a deep breath. You could wait to die. Or fight now and hope that's the moment he's waiting for... if he's waiting at all.
The man holding you drops to one knee behind you. He leans over to speak in your ear. You wouldn't need to rely on your aim for the first kill, only any that followed. It was a headstart you weren't likely to get again. You reach for your pistol and before the man can open his lips and taint your senses with his rot once more, you shoot him through the underside of his jaw.
Your ears ring as his body drops. But you were ready. The men behind you aren't.
You were nothing. Prey.
The few seconds that affords you are priceless. You manage to shoot one more through the head before he can get hands on his own weapon.
The third is another story. His gun is pointed at you for what must be milliseconds. They drag though, those moments with an enemy weapon pointed at your head always do.
But then Daryl is there, strangling the man with a rifle and shoving his body into the ground with a force that reverberates through the metal. It's only when he snaps the man's neck you spot the bodies behind him.
He'd been waiting for you.
You watch him stand, hair hanging in his face and his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths.
Then his eyes are on you.
Then his hands.
Those hands... the same ones he'd used seconds earlier to break a man's neck. His fingers are feathers across your skin as he brushes the hair back off your face. "Okay?" he asks, soft and a little shaky.
You nod.
"You did good," he says, that deep gravel back in his voice. "So good, sweetheart." His hand makes a trail down to your neck, gentle and slow over your pulse point to rest at your clavicle. "We gotta go," he says. "Stay close for me, yeah?"
—————
The first time after is always the same—after you're forced to remember. It adds something to the way his gentle hands feel as he reaches over your hips to dip between your legs. To the way his body feels pressed up behind yours.
His thick fingers slip between your slick folds as he holds you tight against his chest. Heat. It's an overwhelming heat. He crowds you, practically curled around you.
"You like that sweetheart?" His voice is almost sweet as his lips graze your ears and his long hair tickles your skin. "Huh? You like that?"
You nod with a small whine, pressing your hips back into him—desperate.
He sighs, finger prodding over and over at your swollen entrance—a teasing little hint of what's to come. He dips in slightly, his calloused fingertip pressing into your slippery, spongy entrance just enough to have you whimpering his name.
"Fuck," he grunts. "You need me here? Huh? You all fuckin' empty?"
"Yeah," you whine with a desperate nod. "Empty."
His grip around your ribs tightens for a moment before he's pressing you into the ground—cushioned by the few blankets you carry. He's rolled you onto your belly as he covers you completely, his warmth seeping into your skin from his calves to his hot breath on your neck.
"What do you need?" he asks. As if he doesn't know; as if he didn't always know.
"You."
"Hm?" he hums, sweet and coaxing. "How?"
You reach blindly to find his wrist, gripping it firmly. "Hold me tight," you gasp between jagged breaths. "Please... Please."
His weight is heavy over you as he drops his lips to your neck, a silent acknowledgement of your pleas.
Then he's scooping you up, lifting you and rearranging you exactly the way you want him to. Because he fucking knows.
He has you pressed to his chest with your tits against his skin as he lays back into the makeshift bed you've created for the night. His arms wrap around you, one across your shoulder blades and the other around your waist—secure and firm. His fingers press sporadically into your skin a little more than needed, like he's testing his grip on you; like he's testing he has you in his arms good and tight.
Then he hooks one leg under yours, a gentle guide to part your legs just the way he needs.
"You ready for me, sweetheart?" he breathes against your temple as one of his hands leaves you. It's temporary, you remind yourself. He'd be wrapping you up securely as soon as he'd buried himself deep; once his cock was guided safely into your throbbing cunt.
You nip at his neck in response, chasing with a delicate lick at his salty skin. "Please," you ask softly.
Then he's adjusting you against him a little, ensuring you're exactly where he needs you to be. "I got you," he says as his leaking tip prods at your entrance. "Got you," he repeats. He mumbles this way as he teases; as he plays. This was what he did: pushed you to the brink of desperate sobs as he guides his cockhead over your slippery, throbbing cunt... over and over.... and over...
Saying he liked you needy was an understatement.
Then, eventually, he slips inside. Just the tip.. and not far. Just enough so that he can wrap his arms around you again. Just enough that he can have you whimpering his name as he prevents you grinding down to take him deep inside.
This is when he gives you a hint of his strength. It's easy to keep you from your goal, his strong arms pressing you into his torso a little harder each time you attempt to resist.
He keeps you there, just with a taste of that fullness—a taste of having him as close as it was possible to be. "Kiss," he says, simple and a little croaky.
You obey, pressing your desperation between his lips. It's messy and interrupted by moments where you simply need to breathe, heavily—his lips chasing yours as you attempt to catch your breath.
"Daryl," you gasp eventually. "Now. Please."
His grip around you tightens a little as you drop your face to his neck.
Then he pulls you down to meet his cock, to fuck himself deep. It's hard, exactly like you need it—exactly the way he knows you want it. You bite into his neck weakly as he keeps you there, stuffed full—the thick throbbing length of him stretching you out so completely.
Then, "Like that?" he asks, that sweetness back in his voice—like he's offering you a gentle back massage instead of holding you down on his cock.
You nod weakly in response.
His fingers press into your skin moments before he's moving, fucking himself with your cunt as he pulls you down to meet his messy thrusts. You're completely pliant like this, all control relinquished.
He's got you.
His breathing is quickly transformed into uneven pants as he attempts to grunt broken sentences into your ear. "Sucking me in... sucking at my cock with your messy little cunt... aren't you, baby? Hm?"
One of his hands moves to your hair occasionally, a temporary and seemingly subconscious attempt to get a better grip—or just to hold you closer. His fingers tangle in the strands, never tugging hard—never hurting.
"My girl," he grunts. "My needy little girl."
It's only when he's nearing his end that he flips you onto your back and you get a real display. He grips your hips and tugs you down to meet him as he uses you, each thrust a slapping of skin and punching a helpless sound from your lungs.
Strength. Everything you've been forced to remember.
"Daryl," you gasp. "Daryl, fill me. Please."
His fingers dig a little more into your skin, his hair falling over his eyes. Then his lips part, a grunt... a broken, "Fuck."
He falls over you as he floods you, his cock twitching and pumping you full—just like you asked. But even then, even as he loses himself, he catches his fall—arms landing either side of your head to cage you in. "Got you," he gasps out between desperate lung fulls of air. "I got you."
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norrisleclercf1 · 4 months
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Hello! Can you please do gasly reader with Charles leclerc and they are in a secret relationship because Pierre is super Crazy protective over her and they have the best sibling bond. And age gap please and obsessed charles please
A/N" I utterly love this trope! Age gap and secretive realtionship??? Yes please
Lying on your stomach, tracing the jaw and nose of your sleeping boyfriend. Charles was completely naked, and you knew he'd have to leave for training soon but also have to dodge your brother who always come for Monday brunch.
Sighing gently, you watch as the sun kisses his skin sending it a shimmering gold. "Charles," You whisper. Charles groans rolling over and tugging you into his chest. You sigh, loving the feeling of your skin touching his.
"Go back to sleep," You giggle, knowing you couldn't do that or else Pierre would most definitely catch you two. "Pierre will be here soon." Charles growls and blinks his eyes open the sun making them look like jewels bouncing in the ocean. "Tell him to fuck off, stay here," Charles presses a burning kiss to your neck. "With me," Another on your collarbone. "In bed, all day." You yelp when Charles pinches your ass and takes advantage of it and hauls you into his lap.
The covers pool around your hips, showing off the marks he left on your stomach and tits in full glory. He loved marking you, always pushing the limits of leaving them on you. "Charles, Pierre can't know about us. I'm his little sister," You whisper and Charles's happy look is replaced with a dark one. "So? You're not his, you're mine." You feel your heart shudder at the words.
Charles was constantly there, rolling off Pierre's questions on why he was always around you when you were with him or the other drivers. Charles stepping between you and the others, acting like he was innocent and that it wasn't on purpose.
The only time he was almost caught was when he tripped Lando who tried to hit on you. Everyone was shocked that Charles would do that, but those eyes and lips quickly got him out of any trouble. "Charlie," You don't get to finish your sentence when the door is opened and your alarm chirps with the notification.
"Fuck!" You curse and quickly throw something on and bolt out of your bedroom, tripping over Charles's shoes. Your eyes grow wide and toss them back into the room and turn smiling brightly at your brother.
"What are you wearing? I know we live in France but that's a bit," You scuff at Pierre and toss a pillow at him. "Fuck off, I was just about to get into the shower. Besides, how'd you get in?" You hope to god Charles was getting dressed and climbing down your building. But you knew the smug bastard would try anything to get caught.
"I have a key, also it's Monday time for brunch." Pierre tosses himself on the sofa. Your eyes grow wide, seeing Charles's Ferrari keys right on the coffee table. Moving quickly you slide onto the table and sit on the keys. "I know, but you ever heard of privacy?" You snark.
Pierre shrugs his shoulders, not caring one bit. "So? You're my sister, besides you're late." Looking at the clock you choke on your spit seeing how it was well past the time you were supposed to meet Pierre.
"Oh, let me go get dressed." Pierre nods and turns on the TV as you quickly grab the keys and rush to your bedroom. And there he is, still lying naked on your bed with a smirk on his lips. "Charles," You hiss silently locking the door. "Get dressed and out," You whine and the smirk slides away. "Why?" "Because Pierre can't know just yet." You plead tossing his clothes at him.
Charles scuffs and moves getting dressed and slides on his shoes. "You're mine, I want everyone to know." He breathes, kissing you on the forehead. "Soon, just not now." Charles opens your window and climbs out of it, long gone is his angelic face, the one of a fallen angel now. "I love you," Charles kisses you deeply biting your lip and drawing some blood. "Also, my shirt looks fucking great on you," The window closes leaving you in silence before your whine into your pillow
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kasagia · 16 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
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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.
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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.
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"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.
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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...
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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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tojisun · 3 months
Text
simon ghost riley x fem reader
!! smut - minors dni; extended foreplay teehee (fingering); mentioned switching
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simon hums, the sound rumbling from the base of his throat. you startle, your eyes ripping open and you swivel to turn to him, forgetting, for a moment, that he's here.
that he's been watching you.
he smirks like he noticed; knowing him, he definitely did. still, it makes you self-conscious and you go to shut your legs close, hoping to shield yourself from his gaze, but simon moves so quickly, his warm palm landing on the inside of your thigh to push it down.
"no-"
"shh," he says. "y've got nothin' to be shy about, baby." he grins, all dangerous and mean. “we both know you've long crossed that bridge.”
you huff, rolling your eyes even when you let yourself be manhandled to the position he wants you in—spread open for him; presented for him.
he rumbles in pleasure, eyes darkening in rippling desire.
"c'mon, pretty, girl," simon murmurs, his fingers tickling the sensitive expanse of your inner thigh, making you tremble. "y'were just showing me how you play w'yourself when i'm not around."
the reminder makes you hiccup, shyness creeping up in slow drawls. you feel warmth filling up your cheeks and you duck down, hiding away from the intensity of his honeyed eyes.
simon chuckles. “such a doll, aren’ya?”
you ignore him and the way his words make your face burn, choosing instead to return to what you were doing—your fingers trembling as they begin to tease along your folds again. the previous sensitivity that you were riding off of has petered away but it was so easy to re-spark it, especially now that simon is touching you. the loose hold he has on your ankle makes your skin thrum and you use the hyperawareness to ramp up the flicking desire into an explosion of untethering euphoria.
your fingers aren’t enough—simon made sure, after all, that your body can only ever cum because of him—but he’s so close. he’s watching you and you take advantage of the attention.
you moan his name, a breathy little thing that rasps itself out from the base of your throat.
“si- si-!”
there is something doctored in the way you mewl, but who can blame you? yes, you’re giving him something to watch, but you’re desperate for more. you try your best to rile him up because you’re desperate for his own fingers or, and this one truly makes your breath hitch, his cock.
simon’s beautiful, beautiful cock.
god, the way it curves. the way the head is pink because simon’s so pale all over. the way his pre- beads like pretty pearls, always has you lolingl your tongue out to catch them before they drip. the way his veins surround the expanse of his girth, drawing his cock to look so macho, especially when you close your first around it.
“fuck-!”
thinking about simon’s cock makes you even wetter, slick gathering between your fingers. you punch the length of them as deep as they can go, crooking them and spreading them apart as your orgasm begins to build, pooling in your belly, making your toes curl.
“simon, please!”
your moans are more honest this time. more truthful despite the pitch that they’ve taken.
“need y’r cock. need y- no!”
you tear your eyes open—you didn’t realize you’ve even shut them tight—at the feeling of simon’s fist closing around your wrist, holding it steady, making you freeze. the peak of your orgasm crumbles, your legs trembling at the feeling of having it be ripped from you.
“no!” you cry again, thrashing. “why’d you stop me?! wanna cum, please, baby? wanna cum, please!”
“shit, lovie,” simon rasps out, looking dishevelled himself. your eyes flick down to his waist and you realize, with a coo, that he’s taken his cock out to palm himself while watching you.
you bite down a smile at the realization—you’ve won.
“y’almost made me jealous of y’r pretty fingers,” he croaks. you track the way his chest heaves, his muscles and his pecs rippling underneath the tight shirt he’s wearing. “lemme fuck you now, yeah, baby? y’want that?”
you lick your bottom lip, trilling to yourself when simon’s sharp eyes zone in on the action and tracking it with vivid intensity.
you hum then, teasing, and you shake his hold off of your wrist which simon easily acquiesces. he watches as you pull your fingers out of your cunt, slow and deliberate, before presenting them to him, the length of them having a thin sheen because of your slick.
“lick f’r me?” is what you reply to him instead.
simon full body trembles before circling your wrist for the second time today. this time, though, with a different purpose. he doesn’t break eye contact with you as he drops his jaw open to take your fingers in.
you mewl at the same time that simon groans and, you wonder, if you can last another round after this. maybe you’d bring out your strap then.
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ghouljams · 4 months
Note
God any kind of wet dream fic, just pressing right into you just so unconsciously desperate
I feel like Cowboy Konig would be freaky into somno man is insatiable (another anon I'm slapping on this ask because... yeah)
He fucking would be. God. König would indulge my somno kink and he would take zero convincing. Nasty boy.
You'd wake up, groggy, feeling him pressing against you. His hard cock straining against his boxers as he ruts against your ass, desperate for friction. His breathing would be soft and even, but a little whine slips out, your name half mumbled, and you'd know he's just dreaming. And you're a good partner, you'll help him out, right? Push your own underwear down and pull him free of his boxers, help guide him between your legs. If you're still prepped from earlier maybe you'll even help him push inside you, just to hear the soft groan that it draws out of him even asleep. He'd hump you without any real pace or coordination but it's the fact that he's asleep, fucking you, that really makes you squirm. It's the way he'd use you in your sleep without hesitation, but somehow taking advantage of him feels wrong.
He'd hug you to his chest, his hips moving lazily, but his cock so big that even the shallow thrusts hit you deeper and fill you fuller than anyone else could. Your eyes would roll back feeling his cock twitch inside you when you clench around him. König isn't a heavy sleeper, not after years of military training, so you have to bite down your moans when you reach between your legs to touch yourself. But what else are you supposed to do when you feel like you're just a step up from humping the pillow, just a toy for him to use in his sleep. It's when a moan does break through and König's hips still that you're in real trouble. When you don't have to look up to see his eyes open, you can feel it in the way his hands roam more purposefully over your body, the way his hips pull back until just the head of his cock sits inside you.
It's the way he pushes you onto your stomach and pins you down to keep fucking you like a man possessed. It's the way he coos at you, "desperate little whore, couldn't even wait for me to be awake could you?" The way he forces your head into the pillows when you try to respond and laughs "now, now Schatz, this is what you wanted isn't it? Go back to sleep and let me finish up, ja? Dirty thing."
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angelltheninth · 8 months
Text
You'll Remember You Belong to Me
Pairing: Flyod Leech x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, bathroom sex, mirror sex, possessiveness, dirty talk, semi-public sex, marking, jealousy, Reader is a brat
Word count: 0.8k
A/N: For those of you who've been begging for Floyd smut in my inbox, here you go.
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You never thought that the simple act of going to a party would result in something like this. You asked Floyd to go with you and of course he accepted as he saw it as an opportunity to gather information and cause chaos. But it didn't quite pan out as either of you expected it to. There was drinks and dancing and laughter, and then it turned to you being dragged by the hand into the bathroom.
"Why so moody all of a sudden? Come on Floyd, I was just talking to Kalim, he's harmless, wouldn't hurt a fly." You already knew of Floyd's overly protective nature, overly possessive was more like it but it never escalated to this height. "You should work on your- ah- temper." You moaned as he pushed your face against the glass and your kept on thrusting his hard cock into you.
It hurt at first because neither of you were ready for this, he didn't even bring condoms, but the more his cock kept scraping against your inner walls the more wet you got.
"Harmless? Probably a real gentleman right? It'd be nice for him if that was your type right? You don't want gentle, I know you don't." His hands came to your front and tore your uniform open, causing your breasts to spill out for his hands to grab and fondle as he pleased. "The reason you're so wet is because you like it like this. Being handled like this."
You didn't say anything but you did make a mistake of smiling a little before you bit your lip. It was too late to hide it, Floyd saw you.
"What was that huh?" He hissed beside your ear, leaning in so close he had you pressed against the sink, your nails scratching the glass from the simultaneous pleasure and pain of his cock railing your pussy for punishment. "You slut. You wanted me to see it didn't you?"
"Maybe." You confessed against the glass, your hot breath making it foggy. "Maybe I like the punishment. Maybe I like you chasing me, teaching me a lesson I refuse to learn." You met his eyes in the mirror, "Maybe I want you to get you mad." Floyd bared his teeth at you before biting at your ear again hard enough to draw blood. It wasn't a big bite but will be noticeable up close.
Your moan echoed through the bathroom right before the music out side stopped, "I'd be quiet if I were you, angelfish. The door isn't locked, any moment now someone could walk in and see you being fucked and marked. Or even better, what if I carried you out with my cock still inside of you, threw you over the couch and fucked you full of cum in front of everyone?" He didn't wait for an answer he grabbed your thighs and stepped towards the door, keeping your legs open.
"What? Wait, hold on, that's not what I had in mind!" You bucked against him but to no use, "Floyd! I'm serious!"
"I know." When you were inches from the door Floyd shoved you against it instead of opening it, still holding you as his cock is able to push in deeper at this angle, "You think I'd let anyone else see this sight? See what's mine and mine alone? I thought you knew me better than that."
"I- fuck!" He tricked you. God damn, of course he did! "Enough, okay, enough! I get it, just let me come already!"
"Did you deserve it? Making me jealous like that, all for this punishment. I'm not sure brats like you deserve to come." It was your turn to be rough. With what strength you could you grabbed him by his tie and yanked him forward, his chin resting on your shoulder. "Use your words, I want to hear you say it. Do you think you deserve to come on my cock?"
"Yes!" You all but begged as your back arched, "I deserve to be made to... fucking come... on your cock, as many times as you'll let me Floyd." Taking advantage of his head being next to yours you turn and capture his lips in a kiss, enjoying the slight pain as his sharp teeth nibble of your lip before accepting.
With your mouth covered and the music beginning to pick up outside Flyod moves his hips along with it, slapping your hips against his with every beat, eventually building to your mutual climax. As the song comes to an end you can feel his cum pumping inside of you from his cock. Your body slumps against the door, a smile on your lips as you pull away from him.
"So good. Knew you could give me what I needed." Even if you had to be a brat to get it.
"Crafty little thing." Floyd kissed his praise against your neck, the last of his cum dripping from his cock before he pulled out. "Did you enjoy this little game?"
"Do you need to ask?" You stood up slowly, moving your clothes back into place as he did the same, taking notes of all the marks still visible. "But yes, I did."
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stsgluver · 8 months
Text
TAKE ME BACK TO BEFORE – gojo satoru
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summary. based off of this drabble. satoru loses his best friend, and, in the process, loses you too. PART ONE OF FOUR.
wc. 4.4k
tags. ANGST <33333 some fluff at the beginning, slight mention of some suggestive activities, cliff-hanger ending (neither happy nor sad), might be swearing I can't remember and it's 12am I'm too tired to check, may include spelling mistakes
a/n. sorry some bits are a little rushed but I wanted the focus on yn and gojo without making it too long!! hope you enjoy (unknown whether i'll pt2 it, might just leave it to the imagination)!!!! this is also my first long long piece of writing so i’m happy to accept any criticism xxx
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chapped lips kiss along the back of your neck, soft hair tickling with each movement. you can feel the heat of the sun that peaks though the half closed curtains – satoru’s fault since the additional two seconds that would take is two seconds that he’s not with you and god forbid he’s not wrapped around you like a koala.
like right now.
you daren’t not open your eyes yet, enjoying the peace of being gently pampered by your boyfriend’s love as his kisses move down your shoulders and his fingers draw circles on your thighs and tummy. one leg is slotted neatly between yours and for a few blissful moments, he’s not the strongest sorcerer alive and you’re not his semi-grade one girlfriend that is constantly scrutinised for not coming from a well known clan. in their eyes you weren’t worthy to be in bed with a special grade. not that that had ever stopped you or gojou.
“i know you’re awake,” satoru murmurs against your skin, lifting his head up so that it rests against your shoulder. his voice is laced with sleep and you’re sure he hasn’t been awake much longer than you. he squeezes you impossibly closer, his bare chest against your back and your lips tilt up in a smile at the fact you’re the only one who will ever be this close to him. able to touch and kiss every inch of his skin with no infinity acting as a barrier.
after the fight with toji, gojo had reached a state of enlightenment. he declared himself the honoured one and suddenly you, suguru and gojo were no longer doing missions together. in fact, gojo would practically drop off the face of the earth for several weeks at a time as the higher ups took advantage of his new-found skills. you and suguru coped but it had changed the dynamic of your relationships entirely so these mornings were easily your favourite time of the day.
“i preferred it when you didnt speak,” you lie, twisting round in his arms to face him. it was becoming more of a rarity to see your boyfriend without his glasses on. as his power grew stronger, the consequential headaches were only worsening and shoko could only counter his cursed technique so much. “more kisses please.” squeezing your eyes shut and puckering your lips in an over-exaggerated manner, you hear satoru snicker lightly but he complies nonetheless.
one hand dips under your head to lightly grasp ahold of your hair, ensuring you stay tightly against him. the other reaches down, skimming past your shorts to grasp your thigh and pull it over his leg so your body is pressed against his. his hands are so gentle but they leave a fiery heat in their path that makes you wish you weren’t at the jujutsu high dorms with your friends either side of you.
“so demanding,” he mocks, his voice muffled against your lips. you’re almost embarrassed by how hard you’re trying to swallow the whine that’s stuck at the back of your throat. and satoru knows, he always knows, and he pinches your thigh as your hand wraps around his neck.
you bite down on his lip and squeeze your hand and he’s gasping and you’re kissing him harder until, finally, oxygen catches up to you both. satoru keeps you close, your foreheads pressed against one anothers as your quickened breaths mingle.
it’s a few more seconds till your heart has calmed down enough to hear yourself think and you open your eyes to see his ocean blue ones already staring at you. if your cheeks weren’t already red from your small make out, they definitely were now under his powerful gaze, so full of love and adoration.
satoru sees you so clearly, you look like an angel to him. sure, he has a strip from a photo booth of the two of you folded in the back pocket of his uniform at all times and hundreds of pictures of you on his phone to look back at when he’s away from you. but seeing you like this so up close is an image he wants branded into his brain permanently.
“we don’t have class today,” satoru says suggestively, drawing dangerously high circles that have you shuddering in anticipation.
your thumb brushes against his chin, tickled against the slight stubble that he’d shave off once you got out of bed. “what are you proposing?” you hum with a grin.
satoru enunciates each of his words with a wet kiss to your lips, cheek, nose and jaw, “you, me and a whole morning of s-” 
there’s a sharp knock against the door and satoru rolls over onto his side of the bed, letting out a very loud and very mature whine. you giggle quietly and press one last kiss to the crook of his neck, telling him to go speak to whoever it is. with a grumbled who the fuck is cockblocking the honoured one, satoru complies and slides off of the bed to find his pyjama pants to at least look half decent.
you watch him lazily, and you think you could fall back asleep if it weren’t for the fact your body is buzzing from the simple make out session. it was scary to admit the power satoru had over you.
“i’m trying to spend quality time with my girlfriend kento, this better be good,” satoru whines as he slides open his dorm door. you could almost picture nanami’s disgusted expression at the half-clothed, six-foot-something sorcerer who, quite frankly, was acting like a child.
“i need your help exorcising a few grade threes that were spotted,” nanami admits in a monotone voice but your heart instantly sinks.
“you’re grade two-” satoru tries to argue but you hiss gojo and the simple use of his family name has him reconsidering. clicking his tongue, he nods once at nanami with a more serious expression than is usually worn by the special grade, “give me five and i’ll be there.”
“i’ll be outside. bye yn.”
“stay safe kento!” you call back to him as you hear his footsteps get further away. 
satoru slowly closes the door. any trace of the sexual desires that were in the room previous have dissipated into a quiet sombre. he’s silent for a few moments before he turns his attention back to you, carefully assessing your response.
you stare up at the ceiling for a few more moments before you meet the eyes of your boyfriend. there’s an unspoken name between you and both of you are scared to say what you’re thinking.
the mission had initially meant to be one for you: it was supposed to be just a couple of grade two curses. easy. but you’d pushed yourself too hard the day before during train and could barely walk on your left leg. shoko had been away with family so the higher ups made the executive decision to send nanami and him. 
things went nasty quickly with the information being all wrong and satoru was the one who ultimately exorcised the curses as the rest of you mourned over what remained of his body. it didn’t matter that almost twelve months had passed. the guilt of ‘what if’ still tormented your memories and you’d be lucky if you went a week without seeing him in your dreams.
“i love you.” you turn your body to the left to see satoru having knelt down just in front of the bed. his icy blue eyes were filled to the brim with concern and pity for your situation. with satoru so often being away for missions now, you two had struggled to work through your guilt as you tried to pull further and further away from him. 
you offer him a small smile for reassurance. “i love you too.”
“always?” he tilts his head and grins. it didn’t take a genius to figure out that satoru had two very clear and distinctive love languages: physical touch and affirmations. he didn’t need the reassurance but there was just something about hearing you profess your love for him over and over that made his heart soar. 
you reach out to hold his face, and he practically purrs as he nestles himself closer into your touch. “of course pretty boy. who else would put up with your tantrums?”
“tantrums?! i would never,” satoru says, appalled by the accusations so much so he holds your wrists and kisses both palms of your hands. “that hurt my feelings.”
“you’ll be okay.” you roll your eyes, but your lips have quirked into a small smile and satoru mirrors it with a with a wide as he classes that as a  success. he places one little kiss to your lips, sighing reluctantly as he knows he’s got to leave you. 
despite the fact he was getting ready to go on a mission and not spend the day on a date with you, you do love the view of watching him get dressed. his back muscles in particular as he pulls a white shirt over his head that you wish you could bite—
“help?”
since you had started slipping into satoru’s room and spending the night, you two had formed a codependent morning routine. one part of which being the fact that satoru seemed to lose all ability to button up his uniform jacket the second you were in his bed. 
you shrug off the duvet and slip off of his bed to stand in front of him where he stood awaiting. a silence settles between the two of you as your hands gently pull his jacket together and slot each of the buttons into place. his glasses remain in his hand so you’re blessed with those ocean eyes watching each of your ministrations.
“suguru gets back from visiting his parents today,” you loop your arms loosely around his neck once you’re done, and he wants to laugh at the way you stretch up to meet his height. “him, ieiri and i are going to get boba if you want to join. bring kento too. i’m worried about him.”
“he’ll be okay,” you frown at satoru’s cheerful, but also dismissive, tone. “it’s just a part of-”
“-being a sorcerer. yeah i know,” you grumble. satoru is not an idiot, far from it, he’s just never known anything other than the jujutsu world. in such a world death has become normalised – even for a boy only eighteen. “but me and kento aren’t from families like you. we didn’t know what we were signing up for,” you explain and his lips pull into a thin line.
he presses an apologetic kiss to you forehead and gives your waist a soft squeeze, “i’m sorry, love you, baby.”
“i love you more,” you draw your arms around him more tightly and press your cheek to your chest as you hold him close to you, “come back to me safely.”
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“answer my calls idiot,” you sigh as you press on geto’s contact for the third time. he should have arrived at the school twenty minutes ago but it had pretty much been radio silent since he’d arrived at his parents. other than the confirmation that he was there and safe, you hadn’t heard anything. you initially weren’t concerned – he was seeing his family after all – but he was never late to meet you.
“ieiri!” 
as you run down the hall to her, you notice your teacher, yaga, standing stony-faced with paper in his hands. you hold up your phone with suguru’s contact on the screen, “have you heard from sugu-“ shoko sighs, shaking her head and your stomach drops. not suguru too. you could barely recover from haibara. the only person that got you through that was satoru and you don’t think he can hold you together and keep himself sane if suguru had been killed by a curse too.
“someone tell me he’s still alive,” there’s tears welling up in your eyes as your grip tightens around your phone. what if you’d called him a day prior? would he have answered? asked for help? could you have saved him?
shoko can’t meet your gaze as she struggles to find the right words to explain so it’s your teacher that wordlessly answers your demand by handing you the letter in his hand, “read this.” 
you wish you hadn’t.
“what? what?” you repeat, eyes wide as you scan the word ‘execution’. your stomach is doing flips at this point and you really think you might be sick. your head pounds as you reread the words. “is this real?”
“unfortunately,” yaga confirms.
you think maybe it’s selfish, your friend is clearly suffering because no perfectly well being commits such a heinous act, but the only person that concerns you is– “does satoru know?”
“no,” he shakes his head, “i’m informing him once he’s back with nanami. i’m going to need all four of you to be on your best behaviour, keeping a low profile and completing any missions received as swiftly and efficiently as possible. we’re all going to be scrutinised for every decision we make from now.” yaga doesn’t have to explain himself fully to you both to know what he’s implying. all of you are under suspicion now of conspiracy – one mistake and the next execution letter could have your name written.
“do you know where is suguru now?” you ask shoko with a shaky voice once yaga has walked away back to his office.
“the boba shop,” shoko plays with the unlit cigarette in her hand. she, much like gojo, kept her true emotions hidden by a veil of grins and snarky comments, but there was a clear tone of defeat in her voice. “we planned to go there so he’ll go.”
you lift your head up from the floor, “but that was before he did… this.” there is a lump in your throat as you speak and find yourself feeling selfish as your concern shifts to your boyfriend and how he’ll handle suguru’s defection.
“he’ll be there,” shoko says firmly with the utmost trust in her voice. a true belief that he will never let you both down, that he will never do anything that has been accused of him.
-
that belief is quickly dashed, a day dream that isn’t real and the truth cut through you deeper than any curse ever could. suguru was nonchalant when you had spoken, apologetic that he had to leave all of his friends as opposed to his actions that caused that. shoko had called satoru and the rest had been a blur as she took you back to jujutsu high to give satoru and suguru their space.
time stills until a familiar aura of cursed energy enters the high school. he’s not wearing his usual dark shades so you can see his eyes are clearly bloodshot and puffy from tears – even if they’re partially covered by his growing white locks and his hunched posture.
you, shoko and yaga have been awaiting his return. there is a target on suguru’s head now and your teacher needs to know if satoru has pulled the trigger. you just need your boyfriend to come back to you in one piece, both metaphorically and physically. 
he doesn’t acknowledge any of you. there’s no words, no gestures, no shift in his energy to even let you all know that he’s responsive to the outside world. it’s like he’s just on autopilot as he pushes between the three of you and heads in the direction of the dorm rooms.
shoko sighs, flicking the lighter in her hand as she silently takes her leave. your heart feels like it’s ripping in two and you’re struggling to pick up the falling pieces as you watch her walk away. suguru is gone, shoko is shutting down and satoru…
yaga encourages you to go and speak to satoru whilst he discusses with other sorcerers about plans going forward regarding suguru. 
“toru? toru?” you knock lightly on his door, repeating your nickname for him when he doesn’t respond to you the first time. you know he’s in there.
another twenty seconds go by before you make the assertive decision to enter, pressing your palms against the door and slowly sliding it open. slipping in and closing the door behind yourself, there’s a slight ache in your chest as you mourn the blissful morning you had woken up to. a morning in a world that no longer existed.
the bed is still perfectly made as you had tidied it before you’d gone on your suguru hunt. satoru sits at his desk, his foot tapping lightly on the ground repeatedly as his knee moves up and down. you have never seen him in any state of anxiety before. it felt intrusive to witness the strongest in such a manner – even if you are his girlfriend.
you perch yourself onto the edge of his bed and wait for him to open up. which he never does. shocker. “did suguru say much to you?”
“no.”
“i know this is bad right now but-“
“do you know?” satoru snaps, hands slamming down against his desk causing you to jump. you’ve never seen him speak so angrily and act out – his emotions overruling his logical reasoning. “is it because i’m fucking cryin? is that what made you realise?”
“satoru-“
“you were here. you have been with him and not once did you mention that suguru wasn’t doing well,” satoru doesn’t sugarcoat his words as he layers the blame thickly on you, “maybe if you hadn’t been so fucking focused on how your last fuck up killed haibara, i wouldn’t have lost my best friend.” you choke back a sob, hand over your mouth as tears well up in your eyes. satoru doesn’t look at you. somewhere between this morning and now, your position has shifted – from the centre of his universe to just another weak person who burdens him.
“he is my best friend too,” your broken voice tries to defend itself. the attempt falls on deaf ears because now satoru is pacing back and forth, his fingers pressed to the sides of his forehead as he rotates them in small circles. migraine.
“satoru i get you’re grieving and you’re hurt but you can’t blame me,” you try to reason because god you love him so much and you think if he means what he says, if satoru truly blames you… you’re not sure how you’re going to be able to move on.
“cant i?” satoru lets out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “i ignored him for you. to make sure you were okay.”
“look we’re both emotional right now. i’ll give you some time to cool off and we can work this out–” you try to reach out and hold his hand but you're met with a force you haven’t felt in a very very very long time. he turned his infinity on.
“dont bother,” he slouches back down into his chair, forearm covering his eyes as he leans back. “there’s nothing to work out.”
those tears that you’d been holding back are freely flowing now, down past your reddned cheeks and dripping onto his bed sheets as you feel yourself become light-headed. “are you break-“
“go.” there’s a chill down your spine from the assertiveness in his voice. it’s monotone and without any trace of the love he had for you that morning. he really means it then, everything he said.
so you comply and you don’t look back.
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– TWELVE MONTHS LATER
“ieiri, i just need two more minutes then i should be ready to go–”
“you’re leaving.” 
your breath hitches and your whole world comes to a halt at the oh-so-familiar voice behind you. one that had barely addressed you or acknowledged your existence for a year now. a ghost.
“gojo,” you know he doesn’t like your usage of his first name from the disgruntled sound he makes. there’s a brief pause as your brain hot wires itself back into function again and you refrain from repeating his family name that tastes so foreign on your tongue. “uh, yeah, my plane to korea leaves in a few hours.” 
“you weren’t going to say goodbye?”
you scoff, closing the last box with the remains of your tape, “this is the first time you’ve recognised my existence in nearly a year, gojo. can’t say goodbye to someone who’s already left you behind.” your tone is especially sharp as you utter the syllables of his last name. it hurts to speak to him, to hear his voice, to exist to him again. he doesn’t get to speak to you with a breeziness in his voice, like he never abandoned you in the worst way possible. like he didn’t shatter your heart into a million pieces when you were already at your lowest.
the world of jujutsu is cruel and had been especially to you since geto’s defection and the break up with gojo. you had shoko and nanami but shoko was slowly regressing into a shell of a former self and nanami had always had one foot out of the door. the last twelve months had only solidified his decision to leave.
the higher ups have little to no respect for you – that is a fact. gojo leaving you had removed any sort of political defence you had against them and they didn’t hesitate to question your position and capabilities as a sorcerer after every mission. you don;t need gojo to survive, you could stand up for yourself, but you deserved more than to be left in the lurch at such a volatile time with suguru’s defection. 
there’s a dampness in your palm and you wince as you realise how tightly you had been clenching your fists.
gojo reaches out for your bloodied hands and you flinch away, finally turning back to look at him.
he’s stunning.
“don’t touch me,” you are quick to widen the distance between the two of you, wiping your hands on your dark skirt. for a moment there’s a parallel to all those months ago – when he’d decided to break up with you and cut you off from touching him with the same infinity that had once brought you so much joy. initially, allowing you to touch him had been his way of opening up, learning how to be vulnerable to the person he loves. he hadn’t needed to tell you you were over the moment he forced that barrier between you once more.
“i’m sorry.” his blue eyes aren’t as blue as they once were, their light dimmed, and he looks genuinely apologetic for overstepping. it doesn’t ease the ache.
the two of you take a breath and just stare. your eyes scan the face and body of the man who you thought you knew like the back of your hand. every scar on his body and every thought in his mind.
his lips quirk into a sad smile, “i love you.” your jaw clenches at his admission and you turn back to your boxes. 
he doesn’t mean it. he can’t.
“gojo,” you warn quietly, your thoughts quickly going into haywire at his confession because you’d be lying if you said you don’t love him too. in fact, you know you do – it’s what has driven your hatred towards him to blossom into a garden of sharp, bleeding roses.
“please stop calling me that,” he always hated to be reduced to the clan he is from. he takes a cautious step towards you as the words continue to spill from his lips. “i love you, i love you so much, but i have lost so much. i got scared and i pushed you away and it was so wrong of me–”
“i lost everything.” you look directly at him and you can only hope that he knows you’re referring to him and him alone. it isn’t that you consider everyone else expendable, you’re just capable of coping with the loss of them. a piece of you died a year ago and 
“but you’re not the strongest are you?” you click your tongue and almost laugh. he belongs in this world of sorcery more than you ever could. everything is reduced to power. “i’ve been this prodigy since as long as i can remember and i couldnt save haibara, i didn’t even realise suguru was spiralling and you…” 
“i was right here,” you press a finger directly into the centre of his chest to emphasise your point. somehow you manage not to hesitate and stutter as you realise he’s dropped his infinity for you again – even if it is just to allow you to prod him in anger. “i needed you. i lost someone who i saw as a little brother and then one of my best friends kills his parents and an entire village. i needed you.”
gojo’s left silent for a moment so you finish off, “you know how i find this society to be a prestigious bunch of shit but i stayed for you and you still left me. i would’ve done anything for you.” there’s those tears again. you need him out of your room and you need out of this world as soon as possible.
“i have two kids.”
“what?” you don’t bother to hide the hurt in your voice, nor the underlying tones of jealousy. you’d been out of his life for twelve months and he’d already moved on? and had kids? at nineteen?
“they were about to get sold to the zen’in clan-“ your eyebrows furrow as the pieces of the puzzle come together. 
“fushiguro’s?” you cut him off to ask tentatively, and gojo nods. you take a seat on your bed. you’re not quite sure you can handle anything coming out of his mouth without risking passing out from the sheer overwhelmingness of it all. how dare he waltz back into your life, announce he has two kids that he was willingly raising to ensure they didn’t become victims of the zen’in clan? for what? as a favour for the man who basically killed him not even three years prior?
gojo flashes you a sheepish smile, clasping his hands together as he rocked back and forth on his heels nervously. “want to raise them with me?”
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taglist ! @sanokiss ! @dummyf ! @erenssin ! @makiuchiha97 ! @sosoa ! @bontensh0e ! @cole-silas ! @fenrysashryver ! @istanuwow !
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Text
Part Of Me
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Alexia please come back, the kids and I miss you 💔
No request for this one, only from my imagination. Enjoy!
TW : Mention of abusive relation, a little of angst I guess
______________________________________________________________
Since joining FC Barcelona a few months ago, you have become the biggest plot for your teammates. Before signing in Barcelona, you were under contract with PSG but you had not set foot on the football fields since months because of an injury. Your signing with the Barcelona club surprised a lot of people since you had not proven yourself for a long time, your absence falling at the worst time, just before the eventual renewal of your contract in the French capital.
But it's now in Barcelona that you evolve and your discretion foolproof intrigues your teammates a lot. You are almost never present at organized parties and if you didn't arrive late at regular intervals, you would probably be almost transparent. Not in the field that said and fortunately. Since you're goalkeeper and a turn is made between the other goalkeepers and you, you don't participate in all the matches and you are not called every week. This undoubtedly adds to the shadow that characterizes you.
Alexia cannot tell if it's this part of the mystery that draws her gaze irremediably on you. But still, she regularly surprises herself by letting her eyes slide on you during training, something that Mapi hasn't missed. She doesn’t hesitate to tease her best friend on the subject, Alexia standing up to her every time by telling her that it’s just that she's intrigued by the shadows around you.
It's the truth, but but there is more. When you aren't officially summoned to the matches, you nevertheless attend them in the stands. This is where you exchanged your first words with Alexia, first turned on football before the conversations became lighter. You’ve noticed that Alexia sometimes tries to learn more about your private life, but you’ve always managed to avoid her questions.
********
"Sorry, sorry, I’m late" you apologize to Jonatan, coming running into the weight room, jumping on one leg to put on your second shoes.
Mapi bows an eyebrow towards Alexia who shrugs her shoulders, when your coach apologizes you with a vague wave of the hand before asking you to join Ona to be her training partner. She greets you with a little smile and Alexia can hear her ask you if everything is okay. You answer her with a positive smile, before focusing on the requested exercises.
"It’s so weird. No one ever scolds her" mumbles Mapi towards Alexia. "When I'm late I have to run at least five laps."
Alexia shrugs her shoulders without answering, turning her gaze on Mapi when she elbows her.
"Stop staring at her for two seconds, everyone will catch you"
"Leave her alone, Maria" Ingrid scolds her, triggering a little cute argument between the two.
Alexia takes advantage of the exchange between the two women to shift her attention back to you. You look tired this morning and she wonders what made your night complicated. Do you suffer from insomnia? She doesn’t know anything about your life, doesn’t know if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend.
"Did you offer to come tonight?" Ingrid asks Alexia nicely.
"She received the message about the Whatsapp group like everyone else, but I don’t think she replied"
"Go ask her directly. Maybe she’s just shy?"
Alexia bites her lip as she hears Ingrid’s attempt to guess your behavior. It’s true that if we compare you to Mapi or Lucy, you are rather the opposite of them in terms of character. Alexia herself doesn't participate in parties when it involves going to a nightclub, but comes willingly when it comes to film evenings organized at someone's house.
"I can try" ended up answering Alexia thoughtfully, her eyes on you again.
As usual at the end of the training, you are the first to be dressed and ready to go. You are always polite and smiling with everyone, but you give the constant impression of having hundreds of things to do outside of games and practice.
But Alexia beat you in speed this time and she catches you when you walk along the corridors to return to your car.
"Hey, Y/N?"
You turn to her and smile at her when she arrives at your height, giving her an interrogative look.
"I was wondering if you were coming to Aitana’s tonight? You didn’t answer in the groupchat."
"Oh… no, I don’t think I can, I'm sorry"
You feel a little guilty about saying no, but you don’t really have a choice. Your regrets are sincere and it seems to have caught Alexia’s attention. The blonde bites her lip when she resumes speaking, playing nervously with her bracelet.
"It’s sad. I just… I mean, I’d really like you to come."
This surprises you and you look at her for a few seconds as you continue to walk, wondering if she's mocking you. But no, she seems sincere and you even find yourself blushing a little.
"I’ll see what I can do to free myself if that can makes you happy" you end up answering in a low voice.
"Really?"
"Yeah"
You are surprised by the big smile that appears on your captain’s face, but it's nothing compared to the one you feel when she approaches you to put a kiss on your cheek. Alexia turns her heels and in a whirlwind of blonde hair, she disappeared.
"So?" Mapi asks Alexia when she drops by her side, back in the locker room, putting her head in her hands.
"It’s a disaster. She’s gonna think I’m the weirdest person in the world."
"What are you other than that anyway?" snorts Mapi, before receiving a slap behind the head from her girlfriend.
********
When you arrive in front of Aitana, you find yourself hesitating before pressing the bell. You have never participated in this kind of party and even if everyone is very nice to you, you don't know if you will feel comfortable with them outside the field.
"Can’t find the doorbell?"
Lucy’s amused voice sounds behind you and you turn to see her arrive in the company of Ona. You find yourself mumbling some excuse, but you are quickly diverted from what you want to answer by the quick embrace that the English offers you before ringing. You also greet Ona and finally you are happy not to arrive alone.
Aitana comes to open you shortly after and greets you in turn with an embrace to each. A big smile spreads on her face when she sees you and you find yourself having the right to a full visit of her home. This allows you to see those who are already present and until you enter the living room, you feel a slight disappointment not to see Alexia. But the blonde is installed on the sofa in the living room, next to Irene, when you get there.
Your eyes cross quickly and you respond timidly to her smile before answering Aitana that you want to drink anything as long as it's not alcoholic. Your Fanta in hand, you return to the living room without really knowing where to sit. But you don't hesitate long since you suddenly find yourself facing Alexia, also a drink in the hand.
"It’s great that you could come" smiled Alexia looking at you
You nod, not being able to stop yourself from realizing that Alexia is as beautiful off the field as in her football kit. Her blonde hair falls out of cascade around her face and her dress look is particularly attractive to your taste.
"I wouldn't have wished to grieve my Captain" you answer with a slight smile.
Alexia doesn't answer and an emotion that you cannot describe passes through her eyes, before she continues on another topic of conversation. Some of your teammates will come to mingle with you, Cata and Sandra in particular, as you train together as goalkeepers, but you will mainly spend your early evening with Alexia. The rest too, since you find yourself sitting next to her when the film you have gathered for begins. Usually, you don’t allow yourself to think about any attraction that you might have for someone else, but you have to admit that if you have to put someone at the top of the list, it would be Alexia. You find yourself struggling with sensations that you shouldn’t feel when her knee grazes yours, making you feel like a teenager experiencing her first crush. At the end of the film, you get up to join Aitana in her kitchen, embarking on the passage of dirty dishes to facilitate her task. "I’m sorry, but I have to go" you announce with a slight smile. You don’t like the idea of leaving first, but you don’t really have a choice. "Don’t worry, it’s good that you could come. It’s a pleasure to have you with us" she assures you before offering you an embrace. "Are you leaving already?" Alexia’s voice resounds behind you and you turn in her direction, to explain to her too that you have no choice. "For once it's not you who leaves first" Aitana laughs in the direction of Alexia. The Spanish woman smiles and puts dishes in Aitana’s sink before resuming speaking. "I’ll leave too. I have an interview tomorrow before practice." With that, you find yourself saying goodbye to your teammates at the same time and leaving Aitana’s home together. When you find yourself outside, you offer a hug to Alexia to say goodbye, finding you troubled by her smell. You shiver when you feel her stroking your back and you suddenly realize the warmth of her body against yours, the softness of her skin, her hair that pleasantly caresses your face. And more intimately her chest against yours.
"It was nice to spend time with you outside the stadium" says Alexia.
Her mouth is right next to your ear since she still hasn’t released you. You quickly detach from her, feeling how disturbed you are by her closeness. But Alexia doesn’t release you completely, as if she wanted to enjoy this embrace a little longer. Your faces are only a few inches apart when your eyes cross and you wonder how you could never get lost in her honey-hazelnut eyes before that.
You don’t know how long your eye exchange lasts or what Alexia can read in yours. What you know is that when she slowly approaches her face from yours, you can’t resist the call of her lips. The kiss is sweet and delicate, Alexia gives you the impression that you are made of glass and ready to break into a thousand pieces. Which is probably the case.
You are breathless when you end the kiss, amazement taking precedence over the rest. Alexia Putellas has just kissed you.
"I.. I have to go" you stutter before you run away to your car.
The implicit rule asking everyone to send a message about the group when they come back, you simply send a "Home!" when you are, but you hurry to ignore your phone after that.
********
"It’s been three days and she never came back to training"
Sitting at the kitchen table of Mapi and Ingrid, Alexia ruminates her mixture of despair and questioning. She doesn't understand why you reacted in this way to your kiss, especially since you answered it and even extended it. She doesn't understand your disappearance after that and how you can be so traumatized that you simply decided to skip training.
Thanks to her title of captain, Alexia knows that it's officially for illness reasons that you didn't put a finger in the Barcelona stadium. But she can’t believe it.
Alexia is seated facing Mapi in front of a cup of coffee that she has not touched while Ingrid prepares a meal for them to regain strength after their training. The couple take Alexia here, touched by her distress.
"Maybe you're a very bad kisser?" laughs at Mapi, before abruptly shutting up when she receives a slap behind the head from her girlfriend.
"Stop doing that!" whines Mapi.
"Stop teasing your bestfriend!" answers back Ingrid
"Do you think so?" asked Alexia, ignoring their little fight, turning her head sharply towards the tattooed woman.
"Of course not, I'm sure it has nothing to do with it" intervenes Ingrid by raising rolling her eyes.
"How can you know that?" Mapi sulks, crossing her arms on her chest.
"I should never have kissed her" sighs Alexia before letting her forehead go against the wooden table in an alarming thud.
Mapi rolls her eyes in front of her best friend’s despair as Ingrid puts three plates on the table.
"What is done is done, you cannot change anything. On the other hand you can move your ass a little to make things better" replies the blonde, grabbing her cutlery.
"What do you mean?"
Alexia’s curious gaze rises on her best friend, but it is once again Ingrid who answers, the other blonde now having her mouth full of food.
"Go to her. You don’t need an excuse, just tell her the truth. That you’re worried about her."
Mapi simply agrees with Ingrid’s proposal and points to the Norwegian with her fork, nodding harshly. Basically, Ingrid isn't wrong, at least that’s what Alexia says when she looks out the window. "It’s still strange this behavior, to want to go home as soon as she finished training or matches." Alexia sighs thoughtfully before widening her eyes. "What if she’s married? You think I kissed a married woman?" "Oh god" sighs Ingrid as Mapi stands up on her chair abruptly. "Imagine she’s married to someone abusive? That would explain why she has so little freedom." "Okay, stop now" Ingrid intervenes again. "Alexia eats and goes to see her. And you, shut up" Mapi groans and shifts her attention to her plate, but nevertheless obeys quickly. Alexia also grabs her fork, thoughtfully thanking the brunette for her cooking. A few hours later, Alexia finds herself in front of an apartment on the ground floor of a residential area, where you live. It’s a bit out of town, but that doesn’t surprise her. In her opinion, it fits well with the discretion that characterizes you. After hesitating for a few more seconds, Alexia finally presses the doorbell button. It takes you a few minutes to answer, your surprise displayed on your face when you find yourself facing Alexia. You don't open the door entirely, sliding only your face by the interscice, which once again intrigues the blonde. She runs through your face with her eyes and it's true that you look tired. You have dark circles, drawn lines and your hair is styled in a messy bun. "Ale?" "Sorry to barge in like this without warning but uh... can we talk?"
You bite your lip while looking at her, apparently hesitating how you will answer her. This again makes Alexia mad with worry. What if Mapi was right? But you end up nodding, before going out the apartment after taking a look inside and gently closing the door behind you. It wasn’t what Alexia expected.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay"
Alexia talks nervously, realizing that you will not speak first.
"Oh… yes, I'm okay. I mean… the disease, all that" you mumble and shrug.
La Reina remains silent for long seconds, so long that you end up looking up at her face. You see her looking at you attentively and you find yourself foolishly blushing. The memory of your kiss has stuck in your head all these days and you have to use all your concentration capacity not to look at her lips.
"Listen Y/N, if your absence is related to what happened at the end of the evening…"
"Oh… no, I… it’s nothing to do with that, I promise"
You find yourself stuttering again and you hate yourself for it. If you wanted to give Alexia a good impression, you can hardly do worse.
"So what is it? To be honest, I can’t believe you’re sick. If something happens or you need help, you know we’re here for you? The others and myself, too"
You find it hard to support her gaze and you find yourself looking over her shoulder again. Without knowing what to say.
"Y/N"
The way she says your name in a mixture of tenderness and affection would have been enough to give you chills, but the fact that she touches your cheek with her fingers supports the sensation. That works though, your eyes quickly turning over on her face. But you step back, remembering that you can’t let go with her that way.
Which is terribly frustrating. Alexia seems to think the same, her eyes letting pass a burst of disappointment or rejection before she recovers. "I can’t. Not yet." You speak as well of any rapprochement with her as of a confession on your part. But Mapi’s assumption quickly comes back to Alexia’s mind and she gently takes your arm in her hand. "Is someone hurting you?" The surprise that appears on your face is so sincere that Alexia quickly understands that they have gone wrong. But it’s a relief and it’s comforting a few seconds before the frustration comes back. What would stop you from confiding in her if it wasn’t that? "No one is hurting me" you answer softly, though touched by Alexia’s level of worry. "It’s just that I don’t think I’m fit to get into a relationship right now, Ale. It wouldn’t be interesting for you for one second, much more annoying and constraining than anything else." "You can’t or you don't want to?" Alexia asks, almost ignoring what you just said. The answer you’re going to give Alexia will probably change a lot what she’s going to tell you in return, you know it perfectly. You could lie to her, but when you find yourself once again immersed in hwe eyes, you are incapable. Sighing slowly, you decide to tell her the truth. "I can’t." Obviously, this is the answer Alexia was hoping for, you realize it quickly when she steps in your direction. As delicately as before, her fingers stroke your face and you briefly close your eyes to reopen them when you feel her forehead leaning against yours. "Whatever it is, Y/N. I’m sure you’re worth it." When you shake your head in a negative way, it doesn’t seem to impress her. "Let me decide?" adds Alexia.
The seconds that pass while your brain turns a thousand an hour are torture for Alexia, but for you too. You know perfectly well that Alexia will leave when she understands. But the blonde adds a "Please" begging and you can no longer stand up to her.
So you finally accept, gently opening the door of your apartment to invite Alexia to enter. From your point of view, your apartment isn't exceptional, but you surprise the captain to look around in an intriguing way. However, this is not where she will understand what keeps you in many things in your life.
Without really thinking about your gesture, you take her hand to take her upstairs and open the door of a room. And the least we can say is that Alexia didn't expect that to be in front of her.
A children’s room in beige and sky blue colors in which there is the complete necessary for a baby. A changing table, a wardrobe, pictures of animals and a cradle with a mobile installed above. The cradle is occupied, Alexia realizes it quickly. She looks at you to ask your permission to approach and you smile at her to confirm that she can do so.
You will never forget the first time Alexia laid eyes on your son. A mixture of wonder and tenderness that takes your breath away. Deeply asleep in his bed, unlike the previous three nights, his stuffed rabbit tight against his face and thumb in the mouth, your baby seems particularly relaxed. Alexia spends long seconds looking at him before shifting her attention to you.
For your part, you didn't leave her sight for a single second, regretting not being able to read her thoughts. You signal her to follow you outside the room with a nod and Alexia obeys without being asked.
Back in the living room, you feel like you’re hearing her brain scrambling.
"I guess you have questions?"
Alexia sat in front of you on one of your sofas and looked at you thoughtfully for a few moments. Her fingers mechanically caress her lower lip, which you’ve noticed she does when what she thinks is intense.
"You have a child"
"Yes"
"And you’re married?"
You’re just shaking your head negatively this time.
"In a relationship?"
"Nope"
"I don't understand"
You sigh softly and let yourself go against the back of the sofa on which you were installed on the edge so that you can better observe Alexia. The situation is complicated and that’s partly why you didn’t tell anyone.
"His father left as soon as he learned of the pregnancy. It was not planned at all and my former club agreed to mask my pregnancy with an injury. My contract was coming to an end and it was the deal we made. I was thinking about quitting my career after giving birth, but Barcelona contacted me to offer me a contract before the summer. I refused without explaining why and they insisted" you explain, slightly frowned. You still don’t understand their interest. "So I finally told them the truth. The leaders and Jonatan are aware and they offered to help me rather than give up"
Alexia remains silent throughout your explanation but a small smile is drawn and accentuated as your story. You deduce that it's because of the behavior of her club who is in line with her own personal values, until she resumes speaking.
"Well thanks for sharing this with me, but that’s not what I don’t understand" she said without masking her amusement, before getting up to sit next to you. You follow her with your eyes, in turn a little lost. "What I don’t understand is why you think the fact that you have a child would stop me from being interested in you"
So this one, you didn't expect it. You remain frozen on your sofa, blinking at her.
"Well… I barely have time to come train with you, I can never join you for evenings… How could I have time for you?"
"Is it now that I remind you that I am the most homebody of the team and that I am called Grandma because I go to bed early?"
You smile softly as you hear her answer punctuated by a touch of humor. Her amused smile increases your own fun and you feel a heat wave spread throughout your body as she mixes her fingers with yours.
"What’s his name?"
"Romeo" you answer
"It's cute" she smiles before resuming speaking. "But I'm sure we can make it work. I don't mind if our dates are in your house and I can still pass time with you when your son is here... If you're ok with that of course"
When she sees you bite your lips, Alexia take both of your hand in hers, searching for your eyes.
"I really like you and I don't think that your son will make things complicated. I can't wait to meet him. I'm serious with it, if you let me in, I won't let you down. Never."
"Just kiss me again."
Alexia looks shocked for two seconds, before leaning in and obliged. People always talk about the first kiss, the sensations it gives. But you find that the second one is underestimated too much. That of the confirmation. The second kiss Alexia offers you is as tender and delicate as the first, without the fear of being pushed back. Which you obviously don’t do this time, even shyly sliding a hand on his neck to prolong your exchange.
This lasts a few minutes, before baby crying sounds upstairs, interrupting your moment.
"I hope you’re ready, because it’s only the beginning" you smile maliciously against his lips.
********
alexiaputellas
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alexiaputellas We fell in love in October 🤍🎶
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YourInstagram ❤️
irene.paredes amo a ambos
fan1 Who's hand is it? ↳ fan3 it's me don't worry ↳ fan5 I feel like it's Y/N, they seems really close in the lasts after games ↳ fan6 she put an heart in the comment section too ↳ fan7 So is Mapi ↳ fan5 Mapi is with Ingrid, don't be stupid ↳ marialeonn16 Yeah, don't be stupid
fan2 I thought she was single?!
fan4 Alexia you naughty secret girl
yourinstagram
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yourinstagram You look so pretty and I love this view 🎶❤️
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marialeonn16 please send thanks to your photographer ↳ alexiaputellas muchas gracias Mapi ↳ fan1 OMG WAIT WHAT ↳ fan3 I TOLD YOU I FUCKING TOLD YOU FDKSFHJAFKJAL
alexiaputellas 🤍🤍🤍
fan4 Not Y/N and Alexia breaking the Internet
ona.batlle ❤️
yourinstagram and alexiaputellas
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yourinstagram The loves of my life 💙❤️
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alexiaputellas te amo mucho 🥹🤍 liked by you
ingrid_engen 🫶❤️
elialexiaalba mis corazones
alexiaputellas
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alexiaputellas Ready to watch Mami and Mama tonight ⚽👀
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jenni.hermoso he's growing up so fast 😭 
marialeonn16 remember me to offer him a Maria Leon jersey for his birthday ↳ alexiaputellas He won't wear it ↳ marialeonn16 of course he will, I'm her favorite ↳ lucybronze We all know that it's Ingrid
______________________________________________________________
For real it was in my draft for so long because I wasn't able to find a name for this baby 😭 
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7ndipity · 10 months
Text
When they call you clingy
Ot7 x Reader
Summary: different scenarios in which they've called you clingy.
Warnings: angst, swearing, depression, jk calls himself an idiot, not proofread.
A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon for this request! I'm gonna be honest, these are all over the place. Some are angsty, some are fluffy, Jimin's is just straight-up comfort because apparently he's part of my emotional support squad. Idk, I hope you like them anyway!
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Requests are open
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Seokjin: Bickering with Jin was something that happened often, usually over something you both knew was ridiculous to fight over, like the validity of mint chocolate as an ice cream flavor, but both of you were too stubborn to back down.
Tonight's argument: whether holding hands while sleeping was clingy or not.
"I think it's nice." You argued.
"That's because you're clingy!" He retorted.
"I'm clingy?" You asked, offended. "Have you seen you?"
"What?"
"Last week at that party, you couldn't stand me being more than five feet away from you!"
"That's cause Wooseok kept staring at you and I didn't want him trying to make a pass at you." He exclaimed.
You blinked. "That was why?"
"Yes!"
You paused, caught of guard by his admission. "That's kinda sweet."
"Because I'm a sweet boyfriend." He said, still slightly defensive.
"You are." You assented, coming over and kissing him, making him finally crack and give you a small grin.
"Can we please just go to bed now?" He asked.
"Will you let me hold your hand?"
He sighed. "Yes."
"Then yes."
Yoongi: It was late in the afternoon when you brought him a coffee while he was working on his laptop and, noticing the concentrated frown on his face, leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
"Agh, clingy." He grumbled, not with any venom, just his usual tone, but it was still enough to make you draw back, excusing yourself so he could work.
Were you clingy? You knew you were more physically affectionate than he was, but he'd never seemed to find it bothersome, but you couldn't help second guessing yourself after his comment.
Later, when he came through to join you, he noticed you were a bit quiet, but didn't think much of it at first, until you sat down on the opposite end of the sofa from him.
"C'mere." He said, patting the space next him.
"I'm good here right now." You said, making him frown in confusion.
"Is something wrong?" He asked.
"No."
"Then why are you way over there?"
"I'm just trying to give you some space."
"I don't want space." He pouted.
"But you said I was clingy."
"I didn't say it was a bad thing." He said, sliding over next to you. "You know I'm not the best at showing my feelings, but that's one of the things I admire about you. You're not afraid to be the one to reach out first, and sometimes I need that. I need clingy."
"Really?" You quirked a brow at him.
"A little, just a little." He warned, trying to hold his hands up in defense, but it was too late, you'd already tackled him.
Hoseok: It was a clear night as the two of you walked around the city, enjoying one of your first proper date nights since he'd got back from tour, and you were taking full advantage of it, trying to keep as close to him as possible, whether holding his hand or wrapping your arms round his waist.
"My clingy baby." He chuckled as you wound yourself around him yet again. It wasn't said unkindly, but for some reason the word kept bouncing around in your head, making you self-consciously shift back to just holding hands. Were you being too clingy? You had always thought that Hobi liked your affectionate nature, but now you were worried if it was a little too much, even for him. Noticing your change in mood, he gave your hand a little squeeze. "You okay?"
"Mhm." You hummed, still thinking.
"You sure?" He asked.
"Am I being too clingy?" You asked, glancing over him.
"What?! Of course not!" He said, stunned. "I was just teasing you earlier, Baby. Trust me, you could never be too clingy for me."
"You sure?" You asked.
"Definitely." He said, opening his arms. "Now get back over here."
Namjoon: Joon had been working almost non-stop for weeks and you could tell it was taking a toll on him, the fatigue clear on his face, but he rebuffed you at every attempt to try and help him relax.
"Can you just give me some goddamn space, you're so clingy!" He'd finally snapped one evening, the final straw in your mind.
That was three days ago, and you hadn't been back to his place since, ignoring his calls and texts. You hated shutting him out the same way he had done you, but you also weren't going stand by and put up with his behavior anymore. If it was space that he wanted, he could have it.
Until you open the door the next morning to a very disheveled looking Joon.
"What are you-?"
"I'm sorry." He blurted out. "For acting the way I have, and for yelling at you like that. I know you just trying to look out for me, you didn't deserve any of that." He paused to catch his breath, seeming to brace himself before looking back up at you. "The past few days have been absolute hell without you, but it made me realize how much I love you, and I know it's shitty timing to say that, but I-"
You shut him up with a quick kiss, knowing if you didn't stop him, he would probably keep talking for at least a half hour.
"You wanna come in?" You asked, to which he quickly nodded.
He still had some apologizing to do, but it was a start.
Jimin: Some day are just shit. Some days feel like you're just circling the drain, constantly the verge of tipping over the edge into the deep abyss, and all you want is something to hold onto and keep you from falling.
Which is why, when Jimin came home late that evening and fell on the bed next to you, you had immediately wrapped yourself around him and refused to let go.
"What's got you so clingy?" He'd teased, trying to tilt your chin up, but you wouldn't let him, tucking your face further into his neck.
"Babe?" He asked, more worried now, noticing you shaking slightly against him. "What's wrong?"
You just shook your head. "Bad day."
"I'm sorry." He said softly, understanding the situation now. "Can I do something? Do you need anything?"
"Just you." You mumbled, your breathing unsteady as you tried to keep from crying.
He held you tighter. "I'm here. I've got you."
Taehyung: "I like this." He mumbled, tracing patterns along your back with his fingers.
"Yeah?"
"Mhm, I like it when you're clingy."
As soon as he'd walked through the door, you had latched onto him, having not seen him in over two weeks while he was traveling.
You frowned, propping yourself up on your hands to look at him. "I'm not clingy."
"That would sound a lot more convincing if you weren't laying on top of me right now." He chuckled.
Shooting him a look, you moved to roll off of him, but he stopped you, holding you tightly by the waist. "Where do you think you're going?"
"I don't wanna be clingy." You said stubbornly.
"But I like it!" He laughed.
"Well, I don't! Being clingy isn't supposed to be a good thing!" You said.
"I think it is, at least the way you do it." He said, rubbing circles on you sides with his thumbs. "It's nice to know that you like me as much as I like you."
"So, you're admitting you're clingy too?" You poked him.
"You had to ask?" He suddenly rolled till you were pinned under him. "Darling, you have no idea how clingy I can be."
Jungkook: It had caught you off guard when you overhead him talking to one of his friends after dinner. "Y/n's the same way, they're so clingy!" He'd laughed. It might have only been a joke, but it cut you deeper than you cared to admit.
You knew you tended to stick him more when you went out, but he'd always seemed okay with it. Till now now anyway.
For the rest of the evening, you couldn't help but shy away a bit from him, keeping a little distance between you, causing him to grow increasingly confused.
"Are you mad a me?" He asked, once you were alone in the car.
"Do you really think I'm clingy? You asked, not bothering to beat around the bush.
"What?"
"That's what you said to Mingyu." You said, looking down.
"That was- I was just joking around." He said trying to keep his tone light, but it became clear by your lack of response that you weren't amused. "I don't think you're clingy."
"Then why say it?"
"Because-" He sighed. "Because I'm an idiot. I was just trying to be cool, and I know that sounds dumb and childish, but I don't know how else to explain it." He looked over at you. "I'm sorry."
You studied him for a moment. "I expect cuddles as compensation for this."
"Of course." He agreed.
"And don't call my boyfriend an idiot."
"You got it." He grinned at you, starting the car.
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edenesth · 1 month
Text
[9:47 PM]
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Noticing Mingi's persistent gaze fixed on you yet again that evening, you frowned and nudged his shoulder, whispering sternly, "Quit staring at me and mingle with your coworkers! It's impolite to ignore them. Take advantage of this chance to network, for heaven's sake."
Your boyfriend had eagerly brought you along as his date to his company's annual dinner, eager to finally introduce you after enduring endless teasing from his colleagues for always attending solo. Despite the opportunity to establish connections with influential figures ranging from high-ranking executives to international affiliates, he found himself unable to leave your side.
Extending his hand under the table to clasp yours, he leaned in and slyly murmured in your ear, "But darling, how can I possibly take my eyes off you when you look so irresistibly stunning tonight, hm?"
"Behave yourself, Song Mingi."
As those around you began to shoot knowing glances at both of you, you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. While you weren't usually one to shy away from public displays of affection, this wasn't just any place—it was Mingi's work event. You felt it important for him to maintain a professional impression among his colleagues.
With a smirk, he tightened his grip on your hand, planting a mischievous peck on your cheek, "And what if I refuse to?"
"Don't be ridiculous," You scoffed, lightly swatting his hand away and pushing him back by the chest, though it wasn't easy given his towering size and strength. Deciding it might be best for him to give his coworkers some attention, you sent the people at your table a polite smile before excusing yourself, "I'm just going to freshen up. Please keep an eye on him for me."
They chuckled at your jest, assuring you as you rose from your seat, a hand on your boyfriend's shoulder as you passed behind him. Leaning down, you whispered in his ear, "Listen to me and be a good boy, perhaps you'll be rewarded when we return home."
You didn't need to look at him to sense the warmth creeping up his cheeks. You could hear his colleagues laughing, likely teasing him for being so whipped. Suppressing your giggles, you made your way to the nearest washroom to touch up your makeup. With the dinner drawing to a close, you dared to utter those suggestive words, relying on the fact that it was almost over. You just needed him to behave a little longer. Maybe that would serve as good motivation.
Or so you hoped.
To your surprise, when you walked out of the facilities, Mingi was nowhere to be found. You let out a sigh of disbelief when you realised he wasn't in his seat. There went the chance you wanted to give him to socialise, "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
As you reached into your purse for your phone to text him, you gasped when your actions were abruptly halted by a pair of arms wrapping around you from behind. It was only when you registered the familiar scent of your boyfriend's cologne that you relaxed. However, your calmness didn't last long as you remembered your surroundings. It wouldn't be appropriate if any of his colleagues were to turn around and notice the back hug he was giving you.
"Stop it, Mingi—"
You froze when you felt his face right beside yours, his breath brushing against your cheek as he spoke in his famous low voice, "You're so cruel to me, you know that? How do you expect me to remain professional after that stunt you pulled, darling? As if you haven't already been seducing me all night."
Protesting, you attempted to free yourself from his embrace, "I was not—" but your words caught in your throat when he pressed his lips against a sensitive spot on your neck, sending an immediate shiver down your spine and weakening your knees.
"Say what you like, princess. But we're leaving now," He declared, finally releasing his arms from around you. Without delay, he firmly secured your hand in his and led you out of the hall. Sensing your resistance, he quickly reassured, "Don't worry, I've informed them we're leaving early due to an emergency at home."
"Huh? What kind of emergency?" Your brows furrowed with concern.
He grinned, casting a glance back at you over his shoulder, "I'm in desperate need of that reward you promised, darling."
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It would be a crime not to write anything after seeing these damn photos HAHA the way I was trying so hard to focus on writing part 20 of TWTHH, but I literally could not do so until I get this out of my system first.
Anyway, hope y'all enjoyed this one! As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho @the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid
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kana-de · 7 months
Text
★ summary: scaramouche x fatui!fem!reader. you lost some important documents, and now he's giving you a punishment.
☆ cw: nsfw(?). drabble. this is either nsfw or really, really suggestive. spanking. mention of reader wearing a skirt. scara's a bit rough. idk what else to write, there's not much of anything else. 717 words.
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"speak." scaramouche's stern voice can be heard behind you.
you don't think you're able to talk right now.
you're settled ass up and bent over his knees, your skirt slid down to your ankles, your lacy panties still on - as if upon seeing the garment he decided that he'll keep it on for his advantage. your flushed face was hidden in the crook of your folded hands that rested on the bedhseets. you didn't have the strength to look back at him even once.
"i thought i said something." scaramouche spoke again, firmly spanking your red buttcheek once more - is this... fifth ot sixth time? you forgot to even count. you barely hold back a mewling gasp from the sharp pain that muffles by your position.
you knew your mistake, you know you did something wrong, and this was the punishment.
a perfect punishment, in fact. but an embarrassing one.
"i-i'm sorry!..." you mutter, head slightly tilting to the side for him to, at least, be able to hear you. "you know i really a- ah!.."
"i've heard that already." he hisses, his palm hitting another one of your asscheeks yet again to shut you up, hearing another small yelp that you couldn't hold back in time, his palm now rubbing the skin he had just hit. to prepare you for more or to comfort you - you couldn't know exactly. "didn't you say you'd be more responsible?"
"i- i did, but it was-"
"no buts." he cuts you off, and another skin slapping sound is heard as he speaks. you whine, starting to writhe, but his other hand grabs you under your belly and steadies your hip with a frim grip on it.
your face buries even more in the crook of your hands as you understand just how damp is the cloth of your panties. embarrassing.
"i only asked you to deliver some documents to pantalone. it's been two days. where are the documents, [name]?" he pronounces every word in a serious tone and with pauses, emphasizing every and each one.
he frowns when you don't reply.
"i. slap can't. slap hear. slap you. slap." scaramouche smacks your buttcheeks one by one, one spank after each word.
oh, how scara loves seeing the pink and irritated flesh on your ass go ripple after each time his palm spanks you. and gods he loves hearing your cute little mewls, whimpers and yelps every times he smacks your sensitive skin. and he doesn't even try to deny that now that he thinks about it, it's not a punishment anymore - he's doing all of this just for your reactions. and he damn well knows from the damp cloth of your panties you're enjoying this too, a little too much.
"i- i lost them, okay?!.. i just lost them!..." you raise your high-pitched voice a bit for him to be able to hear you properly, your head doesn't move from its position, your flushed face remains hidden in your hands and hair.
scaramouche goes silent. this is when you tense up.
"...repeat yourself." he says after a small pause, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. his palm laid flat on one of your rosy buttcheeks, as if warning you. you swallow.
"i... i lost the documents.." you mumble, now a bit more quietly. "l-look, they might be somewhere in my drawe- aah-!..mmn-"
"you little minx," he growls, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking your head back to see your face. you yelp, hands coming to grab the bedsheets to keep steady, eyes focused on him, lips slightly parted. "i thought we've already talked about that, [name]."
"i know, i know, i-i'm sorry, scara!.." you say, eyebrows knit together in a sympathetic look. he knows damn well you absolutely love it when he pulls on your hair, so he tugs on your hair once more, making you face him and let out a small, shaky whimper.
"a simple "sorry" won't do it, and you know it." scaramouche leans in, lips hovering dangerously close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine immediately. he slaps his palm across your buttcheek again, reminding you who's in charge here.
"i hope those pretty lips of yours still remember how to beg properly, because you'll definitely need that knowledge right now."
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egophiliac · 6 months
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I was wanting to try doing an art piece in the style of the signature spell poster art pieces you create. But I’m not really the best at coming up with a composition for such a thing.
Do you have a process for how you come up with the compositions for them?
oh, awesome! it is an INCREDIBLY enjoyable style to work in; I hope you have fun with it! :D
I'm not great at putting my thought/art process into words, so my apologies if this doesn't make a lot of sense, but I'll try! my first step is always to do a LOT of thumbnails to figure out both the idea and how I want to show it; not trying to do a real sketch or anything, just little doodles to figure out what exactly I'm trying to portray. (I also call these "garbage passes" because they're not meant to be any good, they're just there to throw things out. aha. ha. ...anyway.) I think it's important during that first stage to really focus on the idea and the layout and not to get too bogged down in the actual drawing yet!
I tend to save my final thumbnails, so I'll use 'em as examples (I posted the ones up through episode 5 here if you're interested!) (and, uhhh, spoilers through episode 5 also in this post, hopefully that won't be an issue!)
the main thing I try to think about in composition is balance -- not necessarily in terms of symmetry, but in where each element is placed and how much space it's taking up. remember, empty space is still space! it's also really important to think about the parts that don't have anything in them, as much as the parts that do!
personally, I like to divide things up roughly by both halves and by thirds -- there's a lot more in-depth info out there on why the "rule of thirds" in particular works well visually, but in short, our brains tend to focus on things that are placed closer to imaginary division lines, instead of in the exact center of an image. so even when I'm doing something that is very centered and symmetrical, I try to keep that in mind and generally aim around those for landmarks like faces/eyes (or...where they would be, anyway) and other focal points.
it's not a formula of "the character's face should be in this division of this grid" or anything, more like "our minds like to focus on these areas, let's think about how to use that", if that makes sense! and of course rules are made to be broken, art is lawless anarchy, and so on. but it can be a good starting place for deciding where you want to put things!
(blue - thirds, red - half)
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and against the finished versions, because they do usually end up changing a lot (including the empty space of the border):
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(...these actually lined up a lot better than I thought they would. :') it makes me look like I do things way more intentionally than I do.)
other stuff I just try to keep in mind is that our eyes like following arcs and paths, which can be a good way to guide the eye:
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and frame and control the focus:
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honestly, composition is one of those things I feel like I struggle with a lot, so I'm not sure how much of this is helpful or actually makes sense outside of my head. but hopefully it helps a little! it's all just stuff to think about while drawing and not anything hard-and-fast, so don't, like, stress out about making sure things are lining up exactly on the thirds or anything. again, it's more "our brains think these are the dopest parts of the rectangle" than anything else! take advantage of the cool parts of the rectangle!
NOW GO HAVE FUN DRAWING seriously though, it is always super cool that other people like this idea and style enough to want to do it themselves and for other/their own characters! thank you! ❤️❤️❤️
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