#Herbs for Breast Health

[excomingback]

Can Certain Herbs Stimulate Breast Growth? Find Out

Like many women, I used to worry about my breast size a lot. I grew up seeing “perfect” bodies in the media. This made me compare myself to those unrealistic standards. But as time went by, I learned to appreciate my unique beauty. I realized I didn’t have to meet society’s ideas of perfection to be happy. Not long ago, I started seeing ads and articles about herbs that might make breasts bigger.…

[nature-godsgardenofeden]

herbs ❤️ rosmarinic acid - Dr William Li

[the-neat-leaf]

Wild Yam

The Surprising Health Benefits of Wild Yam Root: From Lowering Blood Sugar to Relieving Those Cramps Are you trying to find a natural cure that has been utilized for medicinal purposes for ages? You only need to consider wild yam! This root has a fascinating history and maybe surprising health advantages. I’m thrilled to share the advantages of this magnificent plant with you.Early Americans…

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Reference: List of Aphrodisiacs

Here is a brief list of some of the foods that have been considered, at some time or other, to have aphrodisiac qualities.

Almond - As well as being the same shape as the vesica piscis, the sacred doorway through which matter emerges into spirit, the almond is a nut and therefore carries the potential for new life.

Aniseed - Falls into the category of seeds. Also aids digestion and sweetens the breath which could explain why the Romans considered it a useful ingredient for seduction.

Apple - Infamous as the fruit that Eve gave to Adam, a symbol of sexual awakening.

Asafetida - (or Asafoetida) This is the ground root of a fennel-like plant. It has a powerful odor, and despite its folk name, Devil’s Dung, it is used as a sexual stimulant in Ayurvedic medicine.

Avocado - The Mexicans called the avocado tree the “testicle tree,” since the fruit dangles down in pairs. The sensual texture of avocado adds to its reputation.

Banana - The banana flower resembles the phallus. Islamic tales say that Adam and Eve covered their sexual parts with banana leaves rather than the more common fig leaves.

Cherry - Sensuously red and juicy, and containing a potent symbol of new life inside the stone. “Popping the cherry” is a slang term for losing one’s virginity.

Chocolate - The melting point of chocolate is the same as that of blood temperature, and so its mouthfeel alone is a sensual experience. Added to this, chocolate contains mood-lifting substances, including phenylethylamine which, when released into the bloodstream, induce feelings of euphoria. Still arguably the most popular food given as a gesture of love. When the 16th century Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés heard about its reputation as an aphrodisiac, he planted two thousand trees.

Cinnamon - The glorious scent of cinnamon was reputedly used as oil by the Queen of Sheba to help her capture the attention of King Solomon.

Cloves - Because they resemble little phalluses, cloves were considered to enhance male potency. The clove tree was planted to signify the birth of a baby boy in certain parts of Indonesia, the health of the tree reflecting the health of the child as it grew up.

Coriander - Also comes under the category of seeds. Reputed to stimulate appetites of all kinds.

Fennel - The Egyptians who used this as a sexual stimulant cannot have known that it contains plant estrogens that can help balance female hormones. These estrogens also enhance the breasts.

Fig - The plethora of tiny seeds inside the fig is symbolic of fertility, and the moist plumpness of the fruit has a very sensual, feminine element to it.

Ginger and ginseng - Considered to have aphrodisiac powers because of their sharp sensual taste, and because their roots resemble the human form.

Honey - The sweetness of honey made it a rarity for ancient man. It is likely to have given humankind its first instance of alcohol in the form of mead, and its intoxicating effect has distinct aphrodisiac qualities. Bees are themselves symbols of fertility, and honey gives its name to the honeymoon period spent by newlyweds immediately after their marriage.

Mint - A Greek legend says that Menthe, a beautiful nymph, was transformed into the herb because Persephone was jealous of the beautiful scent that captivated her husband, Pluto.

Oyster - The oyster’s resemblance in form, scent, and texture to the female genitalia is renowned. Oysters have had a long history as an aphrodisiac and their reputation is well known. The pearl that is sometimes found inside the oyster was said to increase the powers of arousal, because it resembles the clitoris. Other shellfish, such as mussels, fall into this same category.

Raspberries and strawberries - Libido enhancing because of their color, their many tiny seeds, and their resemblance to nipples.

Star anise - Because of its shape, the star anise was sacred to the Goddess and therefore a potent fertility symbol.

Tomato - Also called the “Love Apple” and is regarded as an aphrodisiac, because of the prolific number of seeds contained within it. However, the name itself is the result of an accidental misinterpretation. Because they were originally a yellow color they were called “Pomo D’or” in Italy, the Apple of Gold. It was also called the “Pomo d’Moro”—the apple of the Moors, referring to its Spanish origins. From here, it was just a slip of the tongue to the French, “Pomme d’Amour,” or Love Apple.

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References Writing Notes: Aphrodisiacs

[londonfog-chan]

Emperor Caracalla x Reader: Asklēpiós

A/N: I promised one day I would write for my precious little lad. Now that day has come.

Also, if you’re not nearsighted and legally blind without glasses like me, you are now. Congrats.

Warnings: mentions of abuse and neglect, prostitution, STD/STI mention, Female Reader

Credits: dividers by @strangergraphics

“Come now, Agapi, won’t you be agreeable?”

Caracalla’s lips pressed tightly together into a thin line. Head turned to the side in defiance.

Slender fingers tapped against his pock-marked cheek— a gentle coax to open that pretty mouth of his. But as usual, he scrunched his aquiline nose and shook his head in vehement protest. Night time was a gamble with Caracalla. One never knew what version of him they would get. Would you have the monster with enough physical strength to turn over a lectus with someone laying upon it? Or would you have the sniveling, crying angel, who buried his face in your breast and begged for affection.

“You promised, Agapi.” you said, running a finger along the length of his nose bridge, “You said you would take your chinaroot for me.”

“The horse piss herb?!” He whined, swatting your hand away, “I don’t want it!”

“You did promise me you would take it as I asked.” You said, using your calloused fingers to brush his strawberry blonde bangs from his forehead, “Or did you lie to me, Agapi? Me, of all people.”

Pink lips pouted in quiet contemplation. You could see the conflict in his slate blue eyes. Below the surface of his pink cheeked charm, a feverish, maddened mind was working to determine whether or not to deny, lash out, or seek forgiveness. Treading carefully when it came to your emotions, you knew he was warring with his own impulse.

Since his affliction, the other concubines of the realm refused to lie with Imperator Geta’s brother or even go near him at all. Not since they had given you to him had anyone bothered of late to reciprocate his touch. The isolation was fraying his nerves. He became moody, volatile. Constantly lashing out when he called out for pleasure, and only got you instead.

“I want pleasure! Not this piglet!” Caracalla screamed that first night.

You were frozen under Geta’s clutching of your shoulders, and gasped softly as you were pushed forward into Caracalla’s furry chest.

“You’d infect our courtesans with your disease, take what I give you and be grateful for that at all!” Geta had growled back, a cupful of wine to the face enough to silence his brother as the both of you were drenched in sanguine liquid.

You were not stupid enough to question your place. They gave you to Caracalla as a joke. Lesser goods for the lesser brother. You were not comely and lithe like the others. Admittedly you were rather plain, a Hellene from Chora who had been treating the infected in the concubine’s quarters. More of a servant’s apprentice than a vessel for the imperator’s bastards, and for a time you preferred things as they were. Treating the sick. Nursing them to health. It was a peaceful existence.

Not even the praetorian guard dogs wanted to touch you. Another aspect of the general disinterest was the semi state of blindness you lived in. It got steadily worse from childhood until now, when you could not perceive eight paces before you, without the world dissolving into an unfocused blur. Everyone either pitied or despised you, believing that your affliction was something to be controlled. You made your peace with it a long time ago, just as you made your peace with being Caracalla’s pleasure dregs.

“… As you wish, give me your piss herb.” He finally acquiesced, lower lip stuck out in a pout.

“Thank you, Agapi.”

But unlike the others who fled from his touch, you were gentle with Caracalla, and you would continue to be. The coldness of his stormy blue eyes softened and became ensconced by pupils dilated in affection, his cheeks a blushing rose pink as you held out a bronze cup steeped with the juices of a dried rhizome.

Even in his feverish state, he could tell the difference in care. You treated him with tenderness. Not like he was an invalid, but more with affection and respect as a spouse would for an ailing husband. You kept his cubiculum tidy. Carefully selected his ensembles of jewelry and silks for the servants to dress him. Every other day you bathed him in milk, scouring his body with a pumice and then moisturizing him with beeswax and oils. Dressed his wounds and perfumed him with patchouli, even going as far as to perfume his breath by having him chew clove and mint on occasion.

Subconsciously, the co-imperator picked up on your kindness. Instead of raining blows on your head with freakish strength, the man would reach out and cling to your stola. Speaking tender words of affection, and seeking at some points to make you pleased with him.

“You’re a wicked harpy.” He huffed, his soft hands over yours on the bronze cup.

“I know.” you murmured, gently coaxing the lukewarm liquid between his lips, “But I am a harpy that plucks at the mites between her nestling’s feathers, seeking to soothe his itch. Now drink.”

The chinaroot did not go down smooth, it never did. Caracalla gurgled and gagged the liquid and rhizome all the way down his gullet, slender hands wrapping around a pale throat as he chewed and choked. It was painful watching him try to swallow, but he had to. Without the chinaroot, the regression would have only gotten worse, and he would have succumbed to the infection from his chancres.

“It’s like gargling a goat’s testes!” He whined as he pulled away.

“You gargle them well, Agapi.”

Caracalla coughed, throat puffing out in a gag as you wiped his chin with a clean scrap of linen.

“It’s awful! It doesn’t work!” He croaked.

“Have you been hurting or noticing new sores?” You asked.

There was a penetrating silence. So still was the air around the room, you could hear the flame licking against the wick in the oil lamps, as well as the fire crackling in the imperial hearth. While allowing Caracalla to answer, you stood from the bed, shuffling to the diminutive night table– equipped with a brass bowl of hot water that now cooled– to take a brief moment to scour your hands with hot water, natron, and vinegar.

You knew the answer, even within his silence, your beloved was as transparent as blown glass.

“No…” Caracalla admitted ruefully, “But that doesn’t change things. I don’t want it anymore! You said it is medicinal, but it tastes of utter shite and I hate it! I hate you!”

“I love you, Agapi.”

Your voice was so low it was almost a whisper. A breathy squeak that made him stop his fuss, and lean in. The stormy gray of his feverish eyes focused entirely on your form as you wiped your clean hands on a spare piece of dry linen.

“You… you love me…?” Caracalla whispered.

“Yes.” You replied earnestly, “I do. That is why I treat you.”

The sick man leaned back into his pillow, rolling onto the side. Curling up like a pill bug at the slightest hint of a threat, he lay there contemplating your words in the finery of his linens and wool blanket. Crawling on all fours back to the imperial bed, you followed him to lay down. Draping over his hunched back like a rucksack, you lay your head beside his, fingers stroking the cold skin of his shoulder and leaving goose pimples in the wake of your touch.

“No one has ever loved me before…” he mumbled into his pillow.

“I know, Agapi.” You murmured, nuzzling his hair and inhaling the sour scent of vinegar, “And that is very sad. Everyone is deserving of love, my darling, even you.”

His trembling hands pulled your arms around his chest. He held your hands in front of him, whole body shaking.

“Everyone is repulsed by me. They avoid me, they won’t touch me. My own brother pushes me away. But not you… why?”

“You’re just ill, Agapi.” You replied softly, “The rash, the chancre sores… It’s just an illness, like any other. Would you push me away if I told you I had a chill?”

“No.”

Caracalla rolled onto his side. Blue eyes boring into yours as he cupped your cheek tenderly. He pressed his forehead to yours, the two of you inhaling in unison, as if absorbing the essence, the life breath, and sharing in it.

“No… I would never push you away… I would make you rest in my bed, and lay your weary head upon my goose down cushion. I would feed you the piss herb, and tell you stories to make you feel better whilst you choked down the bitter broth.”

You smiled at the innocent sentiment, enjoying the softness of his hot lips as they brushed against yours.

“Just as I did with you when Geta first bade me care for you.” You said, “Remember, Agapi?”

“I remember.”

To placate his brother’s demands for sex even in his feverish state, Geta summoned his manservants to rouse you from your bed at all hours of the night to give yourself to the youngest of the co-emperors. You knew even then he was dreadfully ill, and despite your pity you did not want to get infected yourself. While they dressed you in a shrunken gossamer stola woven so fine the dark of your nipples could be seen, you steeled your heart and prepared for a battle with your leather pouch of herbs.

Geta threw you at his unkempt brother, delirious with fever. Instead of fighting him, you talked softly to him. Coaxed him into letting you care for him by washing his weeping sores with vinegar, sprinkling natron to keep them clean, and ripping his bed linens into bandages to dress the open wounds. You even made a brew of the dried chinaroot rhizome, and after holding his mouth closed and rewarding him with chewed sugarcane to cut the taste, the youngest co-emperor learned to expect the sweet after the bitter.

From then on, Caracalla was your creature. Wholly and entirely.

“You wanted to look after me, even though Geta made you wake from your sleep to pleasure me…” he said, his tone lucid.

“I did it because I love you.” You said softly, showering his bumpy cheeks with kisses, “And I know you love me too, even if you say you hate me.”

“I didn’t say it!” He whined.

His cry was so piteous, like a kitten, that it was easy to forgive the lapses in memory whenever it came to his more biting comments.

“I didn’t say I hate you… I would never…! I love you… I… I don’t know what I would do without you.” Caracalla choked, the warm of his tears staining your stola.

You understood this better than anyone else.

You knew he didn’t mean his vitriol.

“I know, darling…” you whispered, and you fully embraced him as he began to cry, “I know… You shall never have to worry… for I will never forsake you…”

It was one truth you knew you could say and mean, despite your talents as a concubine, a soothsayer… You might have been the only soothsayer in all of Rome who meant it when she said she cared for the youngest, forsaken co-emperor.

[eatmangoesnekkid]

When you are vulnerable enough to permit your body to have an orgasm or multiple orgasms while your breasts are being sucked as some form of penetration is also occurring, it’s an accelerated way to clear the debris and stagnation from around your heart lingering from past experiences, including ancestral and sexual trauma, so that your heart can really open up more which creates a natural radiance, mainly because your energy is now flowing again from root to crown. When your energy is less contracted and stuck, your organs can now be infused with more light. This altered state of consciousness experience results in: clearer skin. Shinier hair. Better breath flow and digestion. Clearer eyes. More relaxed energy. With more relaxed energy, some health issues like cervical dysplasia can be mystically resolved. Money can start to flow in mysterious ways as welll. You can lose weight around your belly without working out. Etc. That’s why the common misconception that you need to be “fully healed” in order to love someone is such a Western perfectionist fallacy. And there is really no such thing as a fully healed person. Who you are right now, in all your beauty, mess and imperfections, is incredibly lovable— worthy of love and being made love to. And love and loving are some of the highest and most naturally healing frequencies on the planet. Engage breast alchemy as often as possible like you are in the loading phase of taking new herbs and vitamins. We don’t need to be heal to love. We need to love to heal. Consistency is incredible. —India Ame’ye

[loveemagicpeace]

🛁Body & Health🧼

🛁6th house is also about your health. How you can get sick or which part of the body may be most vulnerable. Of course, there are other factors as to why and how. But the 6th house is connected to your body, which means that there are things here that can have the greatest impact on your body.

☀️Sun in 6th house you can be prone to exertion. Many times your heart and hair can suffer. Back, spine and immune system -They can many times be affected. It is good if you eat a lot of vitamins. Exercise is also very important. The more you move, the more energy you will have. Heart disease is often confirmed in men due to excessive strain. Herbs good for you: sunflower, calendula, mistletoe, juniper, laurel, chamomile, cinnamon, rosemary.

🌙Moon in 6th house you can be prone to depression. Emotional stress can greatly affect health. You must not be emotionally burdened with work. Your body can recover quickly even after a serious illness if you are emotionally stable. Parts of the body you have to be careful are: breasts, mammary glands, esophagus, stomach, intestines, salivary gland, liver, gallbladder, intestine. Herbs good for you: anise, cabbage, camphor, cucumber, iris, jasmine, lettuce, lily, poppy, violet, willow, lotus, moonwort, mugwort, pumpkin.

🍀Mercury in 6th house-you can be prone to stress. The nervous system is weak and sometimes they are threatened by tension and stress due to the fast pace of life. You have to remind yourself that it is necessary calm down and relax every now and then and try to eat regularly. The brain, lungs, respiratory system and nervous system can be affected the most. With mercury here The lungs are a potential weak point because it's a common cold may develop a persistent cough. Also shoulders, arms and hands. These can be susceptible to injuries such as sprains or fractures. Herbs good for you: lilies of the valley, marjoram, fern, lavender, fennel, anise, mint, thyme, dill, lemon grass.

🍒Venus in 6th house- you can be prone to prone to unpleasantness. Many times it can be something that affects your appearance, your beauty. People with this placement can fluctuate a lot with their body weight. They also tend to tighten in the neck, which is usually the result of tension that has accumulated over time. Because they want to remain calm, most of the time feelings of anger and stress. Parts of the body that may be most prone to damage: throat, kidneys, lumbar region. Herbs good for you: birch, walnut, almond, violet, narcissus, elder, poppy, passion fruit, fig, peach, apricot, olive.

🦋Mars in 6th house- you are prone to irritation. Many times you can get injured during sports or activities. It is not recommended to do things that are dangerous. Many times you can burden yourself too much by being able to finish or do something. You can often be prone to migraines and headaches. Even to a hot temperature, which otherwise quickly disappears. It is not recommended that they be active when they are tired. It can mean that you have too fast a pace of life, which can mean that you skip the main meals (which can lead to digestive problems). Parts of the body that may be most prone to damage: head, muscles, adrenal glands, fetuses. Herbs good for you: pine, pepper, hot pepper, nettle, cherry, radish, horseradish, onion, garlic, ginger, tobacco.

🫧Jupiter in 6th house-Jupiter is usually good in this house because it represents happiness luck abundance. So most likely you will be very blessed with your health. However, you may be inclined to react too impulsively or optimistically to certain health problems. Even if they get sick, they recover quickly. The thinness of the stems is rich food and wine, which can lead to obesity, especially in middle age. They tend to overeat, which can overload the liver. In later years, arthritis and rheumatism affects the hips. Parts of the body that may be most prone to damage: thighs, liver. Herbs good for you: oak, pine, maple, birch, willow, cherry, pear, licorice, moss, wheat, nutmeg, saffron, clover.

🪐Saturn in 6th house-you can be prone to burdnes. Sometimes you can have too much stuff. You are stressing too much and giving yourself too much stress and limitations. When they're exhausted, their weakened immune systems can't cope with minor ailments as easily, and unrelieved tension can prevent a good night's sleep. The main body parts associated with it signs are knees, teeth and bones. Over the years, joints can become stiff. Meticulous dental care is required. They are prone to strong melancholy and can gradually begin to sink into depression. Parts of the body that may also be prone to damage : gall bladder, spleen. Herbs good for you: cypress, hemp, wolf cherry, moss, cumin, ivy, sage.

🪼Neptune in 6th house- you may be prone to self-inflicted diseases. Things can be confusing and not clear. They can get diseases from computers, phones and other modern technology and pollutants. Mysterious health problems that modern medicine cannot define or explain. Complementary therapies may help you more. Since Neptune and Pisces are associated with the feet, this part can be the most affected. Pisces often under severe stress they seek solace in alcohol and drugs. A foot massage will be good for you. Parts of the body that may be most prone to damage : nervous system, feet. Herbs good for you: water lily, mushrooms

🧃Uranus in 6th house- You may be more sensitive to the cold. Diseases that can appear are often related to unknown or strange things. They have an intense mind that needs plenty of stimulation, but they are not always in tune with their body's needs. Daily lack of movement causes a decline in energy and circulation. During the winter months, numb fingers and feet can swell if nothing else take action. Uranus is also associated with the ankles so people can be prone to sprains. They can exercise caution and must wear appropriate footwear. They are also subjected sudden illnesses that then disappear without a trace. Parts of the body that may be most prone to damage: ankles, blood circulation. Herbs good for you:orchid

🐚Pluto in 6th house- They are extremely durable and resistant, which means that they are generally healthy. Some diseases that may be related to them are of a more psychosomatic origin. They may also be prone to nervous tension, which can affect the muscles of the shoulders, neck, and back. A massage is good. The main parts of the body are the bladder and large intestine. It is important that they excrete toxins. It is also good to do a detox diet every now and then. Parts of the body that may be most prone to damage: miscarried, gave birth, bowels. Herbs good for you:eggplant, beetroot, pomegranate, daffodil.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🧚🏼‍♀️💕🌙

[beautyandlifestyleblog86]

Nutrient-dense meal prep recipes that can help promote healthy eyesight:

1. Salmon and Quinoa Salad:

- Cook quinoa according to package instructions and let cool.

- Season salmon fillets with olive oil, lemon juice, and herbs, then bake until cooked through.

- Combine quinoa, mixed greens, cherry tomatoes, cucumber, and avocado in a bowl.

- Top with flaked salmon and a drizzle of balsamic vinaigrette.

2. Roasted Vegetable and Chickpea Buddha Bowl:

- Toss chopped sweet potatoes, bell peppers, zucchini, and red onion with olive oil and seasonings.

- Roast in the oven until vegetables are tender and slightly crispy.

- Serve over cooked quinoa or brown rice, along with roasted chickpeas and a dollop of hummus.

3. Spinach and Feta Stuffed Bell Peppers:

- Cut bell peppers in half lengthwise and remove seeds and membranes.

- Saute spinach, diced tomatoes, garlic, and feta cheese in a skillet until wilted.

- Stuff the bell peppers with the spinach mixture and bake until peppers are tender.

4. Lentil and Vegetable Soup:

- Saute onions, carrots, celery, and garlic in a large pot until softened.

- Add lentils, diced tomatoes, vegetable broth, and seasonings.

- Simmer until lentils are cooked through, then stir in chopped kale or spinach before serving.

5. Greek Chicken Bowls:

- Marinate chicken breasts in olive oil, lemon juice, garlic, and oregano.

- Grill or bake chicken until cooked through, then slice into strips.

- Serve over a bed of cooked quinoa or brown rice, along with cucumber, cherry tomatoes, red onion, feta cheese, and a drizzle of tzatziki sauce.

These meal prep recipes are packed with nutrients that are beneficial for eye health, including vitamins A, C, E, and zinc, as well as omega-3 fatty acids and antioxidants.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Black Out Days

Gale x F! Tav

18+ chronic pain, drug use (weed), unintentional aphrodisiac (slutweed), groping, dry humping, breast worship (f!), fingering (f!), body caging, roughness, sub/dom, tenderness

Tav's pain rising to an unbearable level, she indulges in some found herbs to find relief. But her sanctuary is laced with some heated side effects...

Masterlist

-

"Please, please I've had enough." She moaned, head resting against cool river stones.

The pain had been spiking over the base of her skull all day in excruciating arcs. It was all she could do to keep her eyes open, force her face to be impassive.

Between every horrible thing that had been happening to them, her chronic pain was her own burden to bear. She hadn't told anyone besides Halsin, the sweet man helped her as much as he could with what was available.

Nothing made her feel worse than being a burden, so she trudged on in silence. Still the leader they needed. Gods only know how she ended up in that position in the first place.

Crouching at the riverside, she gripped at slick stones, whimpering. Finally letting go of her lovingly crafted mask of health. Wanting to slam her insolent head into the earth, but knew that would offer no relief.

Scrambling hands reached into her pack. At the goblin camp, she had pocketed a jar of promising looking herbs.

She brought the unsealed jar to her nose.

Musky, sweet, near sulphuric.

Yes, praise the Gods. Halfling weed.

Packing Halsins borrowed pipe, she leaned back on haunches, the new movement making her stomach spin threateningly. If she could stretch this supply out it could sustain her, at least until she could slip into to an apothecary.

Flicking her fingers, she brought a small flame to the bowl. Breathing in slowly.

As soon as the smoke met her lungs, a spreading warmth caressed up the back of her spine. Gentle fingers splaying up, cradling the base of her skull. The agony dulling into a veiled hissing. Still crouched in the grass, but far from where she sat.

Tears of relief fell down her face. Gods, she could breath again. Body pulled down deliciously yet so much lighter.

She sighed, leaning her head back. Taking a moment to get lost in the crisp night air, the sounds of moving water, insects calling for one another in the dark. Finally able to perceive more than her anguish.

Standing, she headed back towards the orange point of their campfire. Body awash in calm.

As she re-entered their little world a new sensation sidled up to her spreaded peace.

A soothing heat slipped down her front, pressing an insistent touch inside of her pelvis.

Oh.

Kneeling near the campfire, she examined the jar more thoroughly. Lifting the bottom, she found a small scuffed label written in scratchy hand.

Halfing Weed; Succubus Spittle 5%

Hissing a breath between her teeth, she closed her eyes in defeat. Fucking goblins.

Slick already pooling between her legs, she groaned in frustration. Of course her savior came with a demand.

Already, she knew this was not nearly enough to deter her from the alternative. But it didn't make it any less vexing.

Hips already rocking against nothing, she was infinitely thankful that the camp had turned in for the night. Even Astarion off hunting for a few hours, at least.

Especially him, she knew he had the skills she needed in this moment. But she didn't want to do that to him. From one veiled mask to another, she could tell he didn't want her that way.

Dizzy with heat, she rose to head to her tent. More than willing to deal with this desire alone. She had a sure hand and a vivid imagination, it would be an easy burden to bear.

Her infatuation with the wizard could be tonight's theater of the mind. Wide shoulders, soft brown eyes, hair that brushed against his clavicle. The veins in his forearms when he pushed up his sleeves, large hands twisting and pulling with blue magic.

She moaned, and clapped her hand over her mouth.

Reign yourself in, Tav. Gods.

As if summoning him from her salacious imagination, he emerged from his tent.

Drowsily greeting her, he wandered towards the water pump, kneeling next to it. Pulling the lever, he opened his mouth and started swallowing what of the divulge of water he could catch.

She stood stock still, watching this innocuous moment like a wolf watches a rabbit. The desire pooled in her pelvis boiling over.

Wiping his mouth, he rose back to feet. Seeming to fully see her then.

"Tav, you alright? You seem a little flushed, in a haunted type of way."

Gods forgive her for what she was about to do.

Taking his hand, she wordlessly pulled him into his tent.

"What-" Her body cut him off, pressing hard into his.

Running her hands up his taut back, she buried her face into his neck. The curve of his waist bending up into shoulders making her moan softly.

He was so warm, so solid against her pushing. Smelling of old books and leather. Her hand rising to tangle into his hair, tugging gently.

His body seemed to go weak then, gripping onto her for support.

"Tav, Gods..." He shivered.

His voice bringing her back to herself for a moment, she made to pull away. But his hands held her anchor to him.

"Please, don't stop." He pleaded.

Like a flint sparking, she dove back in. Hips fluid and insistent against his. Gathering his sleep shirt in her demanding hands. Pulling his head back to release his neck to her. Pulsing, biting, suckling into the soft flesh.

The herb removing all inhibition, she was a growling animal against him. Hands pinning and pulling, mouth hungry and salivating.

He fell to knees, and she followed him down. Straddling over his lap, licking an obscene line up his panting throat.

His length already a pillar pushing against her. Hands catching her writhing hips, pulling them flush to him.

Her head fell back then, the friction Gods sent. The slick already pooled in her underclothes welcoming him.

Something seemed to snap in him.

His hands wrenched her sleep shirt over her shoulders. Caging over her body, pushing her down on his bedroll.

"Yes," She moaned, falling open for him.

His mouth pushed into hers, gripping the back of her head.

The heat coming off of him was making her head spin. Intoxicating her body into liquid, crashing against him in waves. All smothered soft calls and silent demanding mouths.

Tangling into him like it was all she knew. All her body could know was getting as close as she could without being inside.

He hitched her leg up over his hip and ground down hard. Groaning in the back of his throat. Chest lit up purple, eyes glowing.

Concern arced through her stifling heat.

She cupped the sides of his face, bringing his eyes to hers.

The question in her eyes reached him. Hips still pistoning, he nodded.

"Please, I want to."

"Then take what you want." She gasped out, leading his head down.

He dove on her breast, licking her hard tip into his warm mouth.

"Fuck," She hissed, back arching.

She tried to reach for his sleep pants but his hand caught her wrist, forcing it above her head.

Pushing her underclothes down her hips, he rubbed hard against her clit. Blurring his hand.

Choking out a moan, she writhed helplessly. His body keeping her pinned and open. Splayed fully against him.

His mouth switched sides, taking up her soft untouched breast. The slurping suckle his tongue pulled against her peak making her mewl.

"Please, Gale. Inside." She pleaded, bucking her hips as much as his hold would allow.

He pushed two fingers inside her, moan muffled against her flesh.

"You're so wet," He groaned.

"You. All you." She moaned, sentences and their structures utterly lost.

But those words must have been more than enough. His fingers began slamming inside her, hooking towards her navel.

Her head fell back, gripping his head to her breast. The force of his fingers rocking her back and forth.

He was the tide and she a ship, unanchored and tossing through the waves.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She whined as the pressure in her pelvis tilted up, threatening collapse.

He pulled her engorged peak between his teeth and she was thrown overboard.

Her legs arched up, clamping around his hips. Back bending, the force of the pleasure striking through her was near agony. Completely stealing her voice away, only gasping out choking silent cries. The herbs making her reach new heights, unwinding like a tapestry pulled. Clenching hard enough around his fingers to make him groan.

She collapsed under him, head lolling. Eyes glazed and rolling.

He pulled his fingers from her, licking them clean. Leaning down to nuzzle into her neck, his beard tickling her.

"You didn't-" She started weakly.

"With the state of the orb, I think it's in all of our best interests if I obstained."

"Besides," He hummed, kissing under her jaw. "Your pleasure has more than sustained me."

"Though I am curious, what brought on this most welcome intrusion?"

She hesitated. Not wanting another person, especially him, who has so much to hurdle over already, to worry about her.

"It's this... pain I have. I found some soothing herbs and they helped. A lot actually. But with other effects."

She pulled the small jar from her strewn trousers, handing it to him.

Immediately he flipped it over to examine the bottom, and she groaned in embarrassment.

"See, that's exactly what I didn't do."

Grabbing for her shirt she instead landed on his, pulling it over her head.

He smiled at her, eyes lit up with appreciative glint.

"Ah, of course it looks better on you."

"Cozy." She sighed, the velvet material warming her through. Sleeves swallowing her hands.

He reached inside her pocket and retrieved the pipe, sparking up his fingers and bringing it to his lips.

Seeing her shock, he smiled.

"You're not the only one fighting pain." He knocked his knuckles on the burned circle in his chest.

"Besides, you seemed to be in a peaceful state. I'd like to meet you there, if you'd allow me."

"Deal." She smiled, sliding on knees to sidle up close to him again. "But only if you let me stay the night."

"Oh, you drive a hard bargain." He smiled at her, scrunching up his nose in that playful way that made her heart gallop.

As soon as he breathed in, she held his chin in her fingers. Pulling his mouth to hers, breathing in the smoke as it left him.

Starting to relax, he pulled her down with him. Sighing contently as she snuggled into him.

"Oh, careful. I could get very used to this."

~

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

LET THEM FEAST

This piece was inspired by this Mickey Mouse cartoon as well as this early episode from Spongebob.

So tell me, do you wanna go?

The cafeteria doors parted, swinging open as any other door would—but to Fellow and Gidel, it was as if the gates to heaven were welcoming them. Humming chatter and the smells of delicious foods churned out from beyond. Deeply inhaling, tasting the aromas in the back of one’s throat, made their bodies light and floaty, as if hunger had made them weightless.

They followed a hoard of uniformed boys with trays, drifting to buffet stations loaded with dishes they could only dream of. Slabs of roast beef dripping with mushroom gravy, racks od lamb, game birds with crisped skin, fish glistening with herb butter, steaming stews with vegetables bobbing in a sea of rich broth, fluffy rice, cakes sliced wide and trifles stacked tall. The paper-thin slice of bread and beans they had for supper had never looked quite so sorry.

Gidel didn’t notice that his mouth was agape and slick with saliva until a cane tucked under his chin and closed it for him. Fellow pulled the young boy close, a hand on his arm as he wildly gestured to the waiting delicacies.

“Take a gander, Giddie! All that food’s free and ours for the taking!!” he chirped. “Ready your fork and knife, we’re going to eat like kings today!”

Arm in arm, the duo dove into the bar, grabbing as much as they reasonably could. Generous scoops of mashed potato, the biggest pieces of meat, plenty of sauce, the largest loaves. Gidel rushed about with an apple crammed into his mouth and Fellow snuck oyster crackers into his breast pocket (as a late-night snack).

While their plates piled higher and higher, the mob students grew more irritable. Elbowing them out of the way, snatching up popular itwms, and taking far more than their share had the tendency to invoke ire. The mobs casted dirty looks at Fellow and Gidel, others raising their voices at the kitchen.

“Oi, where’s the refill of tomato soup? I’ve been waitin’ for forever over here!”

“When’re the dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggies gonna be done…”

“I’m so hungry I could eat a whole horse. What’s the damn hold up?!”

“Be patient, boys!” a ghost chef callee back. He grunted as he hailed a vat of curry off of the stove. “It takes time to prepare the food.”

“They’re ravenous today,” remarked the lead chef. “Wonder what’s going on. We normally don’t have to prepare this much.”

By this time, Fellow (trailed by Gidel) had pushed his way to the front of the crowd. He set down his tray (the tower of food upon it wobbling, threatening to collapse) and waved enthusiastically at the chefs.

“Afternoon, gents! How’s it going? Looks to me like you’re hard at work feeding all these wayward souls.”

“Oh, um. Just fine, thank you.” The head chef blinked. He liked to think that he recognized all of the students and staff that came into his dining room, but he was drawing a total blank with Fellow and Gidel. “Er… Sorry, are you new around here? I don’t think I’ve seen you boys before.”

“Fufu, that’s right. We’re new to these parts.”

“They ain’t even students,” an angry mob student behind him piped up.

The lead chef startled. Worry crumpled his round, marshamallowy face. “Oh dear, not students? The buffet is only open to them and staff.” He glanced at Fellow’s pickings. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to return all that.”

Anger and annoyance shot through the fox beastman. Tch…! Those NRC brats, looking down on me! Why should they get to gorge themselves on this stuff while the rest of us beg for their scraps?!

He reached down and gripped Gidel’s hand, giving the young boy a reassuring squeeze. Gidel offered a sleepy grin back.

Watch this. I’ll turn this entire situation around and have them eating out of the palm of my hand.

He let out a theatrical gasp, then summoned his most charming smile. “My bad, I forgot to introduce myself! You see, I am a health inspector sent by the Department of Magic Education to evaluate your menu! Gidel here’s my trusty assistant.”

The leader of the ghost chefs scratched his head. “Huh? Is that what a health inspector does…?”

“Of course, or cooourse! All a part of the job description, my friend.” Fellow indicated his absurd amount of food. “They’re looking to implement new standards for magic school menus—and where better to look at as a model for reference than THE famous Night Raven College? The education it offers is elite, so the meals it offers must be elite as well! That’s why they’ve sent us to try one of everything, to evaluate the quality of your wares.”

Gidel bobbed his head. (He had little clue what he was actually agreeing with, but he agreed nevertheless.)

“Come ON, you don’t seriously buy this crap, do you?” a mob student groaned. “The old fart’s clearly lying!!”

Other voices joined him, but they all fell upon deaf ears. The head chef’s eyes sparkled, his pasty white cheeks rosy with excitement.

“Oooooh, why didn’t you say so sooner?! W-We will absolutely do everything in our power to accommodate your needs, Sir Health Inspector!” He turned to his kitchen staff. “Isn’t this so exciting, everyone? We’ll be the first group of ghosts to receive a fancy accolade after death!”

A murmur of approval weaved through the kitchen. The dining room, however, erupted into a fresh round of protests.

“You’re joking!!”

“That’s such an obvious lie.”

“How can you believe that bullcrap?!”

Keheheh, never underestimate the power of this Fellow Honest-sama’s silver tongue 🎶 I didn’t even need to use my unique magic to cut to the front of the line. Some people are just born suckers and stay suckers in the afterlife.

He smirked, giving a triumphant twirl of his cane. “Sorry, folks! You snooze, you lose. We get first dibs on everything~”

“Hah?! What’d ya just say to me?” A vein bulged on a Savanaclaw student’s forehead. He was about double Fellow’s width and rippling with muscle. “Like hell you are!”

“The way you talk is pissin’ me off!!” chimed in a Diasomnia student. He drew his baton and aimed it at Fellow. “I oughta shut you up for good!”

The idea was a seed, taking root and festering among his peers. Other students were producing their own magical pens, out of pockets and from inside vests.

Fellow paled, balking but keeping himself between the mobs and Gidel. “H-Hey now, can’t we talk this over? Violence doesn’t solve everything, you know!”

“YES IT DOES,” the mobs retorted—in unison for once. Hungry and angry, a terrible combination.

Gidel whimpered. No sound, but Fellow could sense it in the way the boy retreated into his coat. A free hand found its way to the small of Gidel’s back, keeping him upright.

Don’t let them see you like that. Weak, downtrodden. It’s letting them have the moral victory.

His grin widened. He was a fox looking to sink his teeth into unsuspecting prey.

“Why spend your youth grumpy and causing trouble? You should lighten up, live a little, laugh a little. Here, I’ll show you how. Just follow me! Come on to the Theater!! Life is Fun!!”

Fellow spun his cane, releasing a light shower of sparkles upon the crowd. They floated down, popping like popping on their skin. Eyes glazed over, twisted expressions slackened.

“Now then!!” Fellow, raised his cane like a baton, still spinning as he conducted his herd. He, poised as the ringleader. “Right this way, right this way, gentlemen! Let’s have a lively parade to the courtyard on this fine day!”

“The weather is nice today…”

“Coach said I need to get more exercise in.”

“I’ve been stressed about classes, I need to take this break.”

Marching—one, two, one, two—Fellow led the procession out of the cafeteria. He belted out a tune as he ushered students through the exit.

“Hi-diddle-dee-dee, actor's life for me!”

(Gidel pranced in and out of the line of students, reaching into pockets and retrieving miscellaneous items. Pencils, a keychain, spare change. He stashed them under his hat.)

“A high silk hat and a silver cane, a watch of gold with a diamond chain!”

When the last student was gone, Fellow made a U-turn and rushed back into the cafeteria, slamming the doors behind him. He dropped his smile, letting it shatter like a porcelain teacup and not bothering to salvage the remains.

“Sheesh, they’re finally out of my fur!” Fellow sighed deeply. “Those rotten kids really had to make me work hard for my meal...”

Gidel scrambled over to him, pulling out the various items he had clumsily pilfered. Look what I got! he seemed to say.

Fellow brightened, ruffling the child’s messy brown mop. “Atta boy, Giddie! We sure showed those snooty rich kids what for, eh?”

At that moment, the head chef bursted out of the kitchen juggling a tray of apple strudel. He was followed by several other ghosts, each carrying a new dish.

“Sorry for the wait, here’s the… Huh?” The head chef glanced around the nearly empty cafeteria, his brows knitting. “Where did everybody go?”

“Must’ve gone out for a stroll Fine by me, they’re letting us get right down to business,” Fellow laughed, clapping a hand on Gidel’s shoulder. “C’mon, that’s enough excitement for one day. Let’s dig in!”

[my-moo-moo]

waist training

The entire time he’s known her she’s been obsessed with modifying her body appearance to the extreme. Specifically, she’s been zeroed in on the narrowness of her waist, graduating from sizes of corsets quicker than you can keep track of. She would meticulously measure her waist everyday, seemingly never satisfied with the results she’s achieved. Even when she possessed the perfect hourglass look every model would envy, she pushed further into extremes. Envy eventually turned into legitimate concern with people wondering if she had removed a couple ribs, or how crushed her organs were. It did not help that her extremely tiny waist was only exacerbated by the bountiful breasts and wide hips she’s always maintained. 

Of course, he loves her and finds her beautiful throughout all phases of her body change. But sometimes, when he wraps his hands easily around her itty bitty waist, he can’t help to think it’s such a shame that her natural child bearing hips are wasted on triviality. 

When her friends come to him in desperation to start an intervention to stop her from getting even smaller than she already is, he was vindicated to enact his desires.

For months you watch her continue to pull her laces tighter, so tiny a gust a wind could snap her in half. He wonders if his plan has worked at all, suspecting maybe her reproductive system wasn’t functioning at full capacity with such body modification. Her situation has gotten so dire, he began to slip more herbs in her drink. 

One morning he hears her yell out loud as her maid tightens her laces for the day. It’s a peculiar scene as she is normally unfazed by the painful process— and that’s when he knew the tide was turning. Still her stubborn self has her assistant brace her knee on her back and pull hard enough for her knuckles to turn white. She puts the blame on the cooks for making unhealthy meals. 

She puts herself on a strict diet ever since so that her month's worth of tightlacing progress wouldn’t be reversed. All of his attempts to convince her that she was making a health-endangering decision went ignored. 

He watches quietly in the corner as the back panels of her corset drifts further apart, lacing growing looser and looser, despite being pulled to the max. He maintains that he doesn’t notice any changes in her appearance whilst knowing the numbers on her logs show her the harsh truth. Her poor maid receives the brunt of her anger, being scolded that her arms have gotten too weak. 

A short few weeks later, the maid was fired and she refused to take her corset off for sleep like she should be doing. Her futile attempts to stop the inevitable had barely slowed down the millimeters she was gaining to her waist every day. Her breasts are already spilling out of her dresses with its enlargened areolas peaking out the hem, if that’s any indication of how the rest of her body is changing beneath the restraints. All she was doing was compressing her organs further— barely able to catch a shallow breath and only able to nibble a bite before feeling full.

He was concerned about the health of the life squished inside the tight space, but it turns out they’re stubborn just like their mother. Instead of her usual flat stomach, the rigid lower bonings of her corset start to flare outwards with the pressure. The laces at the back are pulled completely taut and thin, straining the eyelets that he’s sure are about to snap at any moment. 

With the permanent grimace on her face, it’s clear that she knows her body is growing rapidly, however she’s still in denial as to the reason why. Any suggestion to visit the doctor would result into full blown fits, so he resolves to let her discover the hard truth on her own.

She held out longer than he expected. It took one unexpected sneeze, that led to a loud rip of a seam. Her hands immediately fly behind her to keep her corset secure, but it only exacerbates the tear in the construction.

Tears are flowing down her cheeks as if she knew her bubble is about to burst. There’s no way they could lace her back again.

“It’s time to let it go, darling,” he tells her gently. He distracts her with pecks on her cheek as he slowly removes her fingers away from the corset. With some help loosening the rest of the laces, the crusty corset falls off her body, and her body is set free. She watches in horror as her gut spills out of her like a landslide. It’s a wonder she had been holding all that in for so long. Her sobs become louder and forlorn, especially now that her lungs were able to properly expand once again.

It took plenty of effort to calm her anguish down. He repeats in her head that a few short months the baby will be out of her and she can start her tightlacing ambitions over again. Her hand clutches the pronounced bump settling in her lower abdomen, hanging onto the reassurance that her rib cage remains narrow, and her curves are still pronounced. 

Unfortunately, she only began to accept the damage one baby would do to her pristine body, and would’ve never expected the bombshell the doctor was going to drop— or rather a total of four bombshells. 

She fainted at the announcement and he couldn’t blame her. She’s spent her lifetime training her body to be the record smallest, and it’s about to be utterly and irreversibly ruined in under a year’s time. He doesn’t dare to let out his part in this.

A quadruplet pregnancy was practically unheard of— no one around her, not even her doctors could confidently tell her what to anticipate. Clinging onto her delusions, she tried to exercise and minimize her intake to limit her growth. Incontestably, none of the efforts she has known to be true could halt the growth of the babies. Without any restraints, her belly shot outward, gaining inches frustratingly quicker than she’s ever managed to squeeze out in a year. It looked especially ridiculous, like a sore thumb, given her narrowed torso. And then her belly began to spread to fill out her waist, pushing her unnaturally bent rib cage back outward.

Her doctor had been concerned her spine might split in half, let alone be able to carry four fetuses, but defying expectations, her body was highly adaptable because of her long experience with waist training. Her organs were used to functioning with limited space. The same lower ribs that were susceptible to molding are even more easily pried apart to make room for the growing babies. And just like he had clocked, her hips were made for childbearing and only continuing to widen with the rushing hormones.

When she had finally lost complete definition at her waist, she broke down, giving up entirely on the strict regimens she had always followed. And yet she still clung onto her obsession with numbers. Every single day when she measures her circumference, the measuring tape slips a couple notches, and her despair slips even further. He tells her how proud he was that she was gaining weight. He tells her how beautiful she was, glowing more than ever. 

He wasn’t sure if she was internalizing what you were saying, when he would catch her examining her rapidly changing body in front of the mirror. One morning she comes waddling to you to share the news she had gained ten whole centimeters around in a single day. It is then he could identify the exhilaration behind her timid expression and encourages it, whispering praises in her ear. A small smile slips out and it slowly grows more confident with time. 

She started eating beyond her fill, and would be noticeably disappointed when her daily measurements were stagnant. The obsessiveness that used to fuel her extreme waist cinching was now redirected to expanding her midsection. She was seeing results quicker than ever which only fueled her brain’s addictive reward system. 

As a result of her body’s hard work, her transformation was so drastic, family members barely recognized her. 

His fingers used to touch when he wrapped his hands around her teensy tiny waist, but now he’s not even sure his arms would make it all the way around. Gone are her concave curves, her gravid belly has gotten so enormous that one could see it bulging out, even from the back. The mass stuck out far in front of her, until it got so heavy it drooped against her thigh. Her breasts and buttock have received similar treatment of getting even more plump and bountiful, like they were meant to be.

His vision from the start has been more than realized. His instincts were right. This wasn't the figure she had always lusted for, but she suited this version of curvy. With all this extra padding enveloping her bones, she looked extra youthful yet sexy. He will savour these last weeks of pregnancy until she got her body back.

Everyone assumed that she would rebind herself in a corset immediately after birth. The babies have left her body, but her ribs remained flared outward, bones jutting out from her sides. Her hips have been widened and fat still clung onto her body. He doubts she could get back to the extreme state her body was in pre-pregnancy, but even after her doctor cleared her for regular physical activity again, she seems to have none of her old drive to slim down. He catches her grabbing and pulling at her loose, stretch mark ladened skin, and wonders if she despises what the pregnancy (what he) did to her body.

“Are you sad that you lost all your progress?” he asks with guilt weighing heavy in his heart.

“Yes,” she admits, but he doesn’t expect what she follows with. “I… I miss my belly. Do you think my belly could get larger next time?”

He smiles. His little push has not only irrevocably changed her body, but her mindset. She would always have an innate desire for waist training— just now in the other direction.

[takadokii]

✴ extra: insatiable yearning !! ‧₊.࿐

summary Suguru likes helping you cook, but sometimes he's plagued with an insatiable hunger for you; he knows it's wrong, but only certain thoughts can stop them. pairing geto suguru x f!reader tags cunnilingus (f & m receiving), unrequited feelings warnings slight smut! slight angst, word count 1.1k links collection ; taglist

this is an additional chapter of my series "caught in the middle", if you enjoyed this, consider checking it out! 🩵

Suguru enjoys teaching you to cook.

It started with a genuine concern for your health when he discovered you lived off of microwave meals and had developed into a sort of guilty pleasure for him as time passed.

He would start off simple, teaching you when to use oil instead of butter, how to know when the rice is properly cooked, and what spices and herbs add the best flavour to it.

He liked holding the wooden spoon up to your face after it cooled down a little. At first you’d be hesitant, testing the temperature with your lip before putting the food into your mouth, letting out a noise of contempt as soon as the flavour set in.

He enjoyed letting his hands linger on yours whenever you were cutting spring onions, tomatoes or carrots, he showed you how to use your fingers to measure where to cut next and he liked the little pause and jolt your body would do whenever he’d lean in close and tell you you were doing a really good job.

He enjoyed the fact you’d bring cookbooks into school, showing him whatever recipe you wanted to try next. Sure, a few times he lied to you in his expertise about it and had to hastily try the recipe out at home before going to you and pretending as though it was a long passed down recipe that had been in his family for generations.  

You’d read the steps out to him, sitting on the counter as he washed, prepared and measured the ingredients, you’d swing your legs a little and Suguru had a hard time holding back from the temptation to reach out and hold your thighs in place.

Cooking was something important to him, just as you were and as he felt these parts of him connecting, colliding in a way that made it impossible for him to think about one without the other, he feared the thought of connecting you to the pleasure and peace he found in food.

Despite loving to cook, Suguru was also an enjoyer of eating, he enjoyed trying all sorts of different tastes from different cultures and could warm up to the idea of just about anything, he thinks that everything one consumes has an effect on one's soul.

Eating, could be in its simplest form the consumption of nutrients, keeping his body alive and strong, but it could also be tasting, savouring the flavour of something delicious, exciting, sweetness melting on his tongue.

When he connects his love for you to his love of food, he realises quickly he needs you just as much as he needs to eat, hungers for you like a starving man every time you stand just close enough for him to reach out to you.

When you gift him a “Kiss the Cook” apron for his birthday he can’t properly contain his smile, and uses it as an excuse to come by your house more often in hopes you’d do so.

Once growing more comfortable, you started the habit of being a bit more hands-on with your assistance.

Tying his apron drove him crazy, you’d always stand much closer than anyone would deem necessary, pressing yourself into his back as you tied a small bow.

You’d lean up then, your chest pressing into his back and he can feel the firmness of your breasts when you’d whisper with a smile into his ears. 

“Done.”

When you move to look him in the eyes he’s still thinking about you, the counter is still empty and he can’t help but think about sitting you down on it and eating you out pushing your panties to the side and making you cum on his tongue until your legs would quiver on his shoulders.

He imagined the look on your face, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you came undone for him, the sweet noises you would attempt to muffle with your hand.

He’d pause, just as out of breath as you seemed to be, leaning up for a quick kiss, you could taste yourself on his tongue.

He’d whisper into your mouth with a teasing smile, a feign pity at the thought you could dared to assume he was finished with you, “Done?”

Before kissing a trail down your body and diving his mouth between your legs again.

But what really pushed his buttons was when you’d tuck the loose strand of hair behind his ear for him, whenever he was leaning forward and it was obscuring his vision.

You’d do it so gently, letting your finger graze his neck before letting it fall back to your side again.

He’d gulp and let out a shaky breath, irritated by how oblivious you were to the effects you’d have on him.

“Is something wrong?” You ask him, but he barely hears it, trying to focus on not cutting his fingers off while chopping the onions.

He continues cooking, looking down he imagines you sitting there, on your knees, choking down his length, spit running down on chin as your nails would dig into his thighs.

Your eyes were near to closing, in an attempt to shove his dick even further down your throat, but he wouldn’t let you.

He’d keep the hair from your face, to return the favour as he pulled on it, making you look up at him.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

He finished cutting the spring onions.

“Everything’s fine,” he chuckles and puts them in the pot without glancing your way.

He feels bad, occasionally, when he’d sit across from you as you ate the shared creation you had made and sees you gulp down the food so innocently, loudly exclaiming your fascination with the flavour as he is still caught up in these lude thoughts he had about you.

But he can’t help it, because despite sitting across from him, his hand doesn’t dare to reach out to yours and all he can think about is the tingling beneath his skin of a touch unfelt, a one sided tension flowing through his veins.

He allows himself to think of you like this, despite knowing how wrong it is, how disgusted you’d probably feel if you were to find out but he thinks these might be the only thoughts that can distract him from how madly in love with you he is.

He sighs and eats his food, hungry for something else.

is this kinda sanji coded? anyway, my first smut I'm sorry if my words during those scenes arent as descriptive or eloquent yet, I'm sure ill get the hang of it soon :)

thanks for reading! <3

much love, jae 🩵

[flowerandblood]

The Impossible Choice (33)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: angst, metion of underage sex, violence ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

Even when she was a child, Alys used to have dreams about a white-haired man, arriving on a huge beast the size of a mountain to change her life. Her mother did not know what moon tea was and did not know that she could remove an unwanted child.

She was therefore born as a burden and the unpleasant result of a brief affair between her mother Lena and her father, Lord Lyonel Strong. She bore the name Rivers, like any bastard child.

For as long as she could remember she had been haunted by dreams and visions which, as it turned out later, were reflected in the future. She saw a sheep with its throat cut in a dream, and the next day she found her mother, lying on her bed with her veins cut − from then on, she managed on her own.

She was always told by the men around her that she was beautiful, that she had gorgeous hair and eyes − she decided to take advantage of this. She lost her maidenhood at the age of thirteen with a guard who smelled of sweat and alcohol.

She remembered feeling immense pain and discomfort − she tightened her lips so she wouldn't start screaming. Afterwards, he gave her some coins and the bread that he had received for meal.

Her father used to send her some coins, but not enough. When he found out how she was making money, he forbade her to do so, putting her under the authority of the maester.

He began taking her to fields full of grasses and herbs, telling her about their properties and what could be made from them.

Alys then thought that health was a supreme value and if she learned the secrets of herbalism and disease, she would be a person who could not be disposed of or killed.

She would be indispensable.

She was not wrong.

She was never wrong.

When her father died in the flames, she felt nothing. She didn't regard him as a father, but more as her protector whom she served.

She knew that he was ashamed of her existence.

After his son, her half-brother Larys Strong took over, she knew that she had to act quickly. She saw blood in her dream, a rose bush without flowers, full of thorns − she knew what it meant, she knew that evil would come with him.

She avoided him as much as she could, hiding in the shadows, wrapping his guards and fellows around her finger. She saw the way they looked at her, knew what to do, how to make them want her. She didn't impose on them, merely showing them what they could have, her gaze was enough to make sure that they couldn't forget her.

When it became apparent that she was expecting a child, she wondered whether to leave it in her womb − she finally decided to let the gods make the choice.

When she miscarried after a few months, she did not even shed a tear − she thought, however, that her breasts were full of milk that was about to go to waste.

She became a wet nurse, sizing up some gold again. Her little fortune grew slowly, her tendrils tangled around Larys like a spider web.

Still, she dreamt of the white-haired prince without an eye. She had heard of him, about Prince Aemond Targaryen − she knew that he was ten years younger than her and she knew that they were destined to meet.

She saw herself stroking her swollen abdomen and knew that this was his heir, his seed.

And then, finally, each time she heard the splash of the water, saw his body sink to the bottom of the lake along with his great dragon.

She wondered what she could do to save him, why the man who was destined for her was also destined to die like this, before he even saw their child.

She felt nothing when word reached her that Prince Aemond had officially chosen one of Lord Borros Baratheon's daughters as his wife. She thought it changed nothing.

Marriage was a dry agreement between families.

Passion was something else entirely.

She became concerned, however, when she stopped dreaming about him from that point on − she prayed about it before going to sleep, but no vision with him, neither in the sun nor in the fire ever came to her again. After a few weeks she wept in despair for the first time, understanding that something had happened, that destiny had changed.

That the gods had intervened.

Her dreams of him were replaced by another, recurring one − she saw fire consuming fields and forests, destroying houses, burning people, unstoppable and uncontrollable.

Then she saw black clouds coming, the sky trembling, and a warm, gentle rain falling on the scorched, mutilated earth, bringing relief, its scent filling her lungs.

And then the fire came to her.

It began to burn the fields where she had gathered herbs, it burned the house of the people from whom she had bought milk, it burned the grove where she had prayed, leaving only dust and ashes. They brought her along with other people to die and then she saw him.

She felt her heart begin to pound hard as she saw his eye patch − he stood in full armour, sure, cold, unfeeling, fire bursting in his heart.

She stared at him as if enchanted, and when their eyes met and she stopped in front of him she knew that he felt something.

Their shared destiny.

When she heard that he was suffering from pains related to the eye that he now no longer had, she made an ointment especially for him and carried it to him.

She knew that this was her moment.

As she stepped into his chamber a shiver went through her − she saw his cold gaze drop greedily to her breasts, felt a squeeze between her thighs at the thought that he desired her. She knew he did; she could feel the tension between them in the air.

She was never wrong.

"I have brought an ointment to apply to your eye, Your Grace. One of the guards conveyed me you were in pain." She said, looking at him with a light, sensual smile. She saw that he hesitated and did not know what to make of her words.

Finally, however, he nodded, pulling his eye patch off, watching her closely. She approached him unhurriedly, placing the jar of ointment on the table, leaning over him. She saw his gaze escape to her breasts and smiled with satisfaction, feeling that as soon as she was done they would fuck on that table.

She removed a sapphire from his eye socket, which she gently placed on the cloth that she had prepared earlier. She put the ointment on her finger and began to spread it over his eye socket, glancing at it carefully, so as not to miss any wound.

She sensed, however, that something was wrong − he looked away from her and stared somewhere to the side, thoughtful, his eye red.

His thoughts had left her, but she didn't know where or why.

She pressed her lips together at the thought, feeling pain and a squeeze in her throat.

She had waited so many years for him, and he was thinking of someone else.

When she finished, she placed her fingers gently on his hand, wanting to remind him of her presence, but he flinched suddenly as if she had snapped him out of a trance and took his hand away, glancing at her warningly, his lips tightened.

"You may leave." He said, turning his head away, not looking at her.

She felt as if he had slapped her.

However, she did not show her distress.

Over the years she had learned to mask her pain and discomfort well.

"I could give you an heir, Your Grace." She said and saw him flinch all over, glancing at her in shock.

She was the only woman who could give him what he wanted.

Fire and darkness, the passionate, aggressive dance of their bodies, the struggle and fulfilment full of screams and moans.

She could have given him a child.

He looked at her, in his gaze no longer desire but a darkness that shocked her.

"You may leave." He said with emphasis, menacingly, low, so that she felt shivers down her spine. She swallowed quietly and bowed respectfully to him.

"Your Grace." She said softly, turned and walked away, closing the door behind her.

She was furious with herself, but she could not hold back her tears as she walked down the corridor of the fortress.

She had waited for him, waited so many years, seen them together flying through the heavens on his great dragon towards the sky.

She had seen their son.

What had happened?

She circled around him like a shadow, not intending to impose on him, wanting him to come to her himself, to break.

She could see that he was in a fury, on fire, that he glanced at her sometimes with a look that could kill and bring her to fulfilment at the same time.

He knew perfectly well what she could give him and some part of him wanted it.

However, she woke one night to hear a commotion outside her door, to hear someone whining and moaning. She left her chamber, going down the stairs barefoot, and that's when she saw them.

He embraced her, pressing her against the wall as if he wanted to devour her, her hands clenched on his hair and shirt, her legs wrapped around his waist, her lips parted sweetly, eyelids clenched in pleasure, sweat on their bodies.

She saw his hips move greedily inside her, saw her body shudder with each of his brutal, helpless thrusts, saw him whisper to her, panting loudly. She sobbed and squirmed at his words until she came at last, and he with her.

After that, they sank to their knees, stroking their faces, looking at each other.

Her Prince desired another.

He craved his wife.

She returned to her chamber, feeling only emptiness.

She lay down on her bed and gazed at the starry sky, knowing that she had nothing − the only purpose of her life was to wait for his arrival.

Without him she was just Lord Strong's bastard, a whore who no one would ever marry.

The next day she rose at dawn as she did every day, slowly preparing ointment for the burned wounded, moaning and wailing outside the fortress.

She treated everyone who needed it, not refusing to help anyone.

She shuddered when she heard that someone come inside and recognised the girl who had moaned in the Prince's embrace the night before.

His wife.

She noticed, surprised that she was not wearing an attire appropriate to her position − she looked like a boy, betrayed only by the braid woven from her hair and her soft, gentle face and girlish curves under her attire. She bowed before her, her expression calm and gentle.

"My Lady. What brings you here? I did not expect your visit." She said softly, wondering what she might have wanted.

She thought she had found out that she wanted to seduce her husband and had come to threaten her.

Women often did that, especially when she shared her bed with their husbands.

As if she was the one who had sworn allegiance to them.

"I’ve heard a lot about the Witch of Harrenhal. I would like to help you treat the wounded." The girl said lightly, walking through her chamber with a happy smile, looking around curiously.

This was not the answer she had expected and she felt intrigued.

She thought that she would play her game.

"Truly? That’s an amazing coincidence. I could really use someone to help me." She muttered low with satisfaction.

It was true that there was so much work to do with the injured that she didn't know where to put her hands first.

A helper would indeed be useful to her.

She took a wooden board out of a drawer and placed some roots and herbs beside it, placing a second knife next to it. She pointed with her hand to the place opposite her, and the girl approached, apparently waiting for her instructions.

"I prepare an ointment to help burns heal faster. I use it the most, so I have to prepare a new one every morning. This white root is a weeper, cut it into small cubes and then squeeze the juice out of them into this jar." She said calmly, pointing to the jar standing beside her. She nodded and got straight to work.

"What do they call you? I wouldn’t want to address you as witch. It’s impolite." She said lightly without looking at her, squeezing the juice from the root exactly as she should.

She thought that this girl was more than intriguing.

"Alys, my Lady." She said calmly and they spoke no more to each other.

She had thought that she would now be listening to a tirade about her husband or hearing stories about women seducing someone else's men and what befell them.

Nothing of the sort happened, however.

She was aware of the effect she had on her husband and was not afraid of any other woman.

Who could be a threat to her when he wanted her so much?

They spent the rest of the day among the wounded, applying a jointly prepared ointment to their wounds. They worked at a distance − she was quicker, so she did not wait for her, the prince's wife, however, did not seem to care.

She saw that, despite her discomfort, the girl showed compassion and concern for the soldiers, chatting to them, even bestowing a smile on them at times. She saw that she was dirty from dust and blood, all sweaty, locks of her hair stuck to her face − she thought, watching her closely, that she was not pretending.

The girl who had taken everything from her seemed so innocent.

She looked away, but then looked at her again, something about her attire caught her eye.

She saw that there were deer embroidered on both sides of her bodice.

The Baratheon family crest.

Strom's End.

Strom.

She pressed her lips together, swallowing quietly − it was only then that she understood the meaning of the dreams that had tormented her for the past nine months.

She was the rain that had put out the fire.

By arriving in Harrenhal, she had saved her husband from ongoing self-destruction.

She realised with both pain and relief that she was no longer haunted by visions in which the Prince was drowning together with his dragon.

He's not going to die, she thought.

She had done what she would not.

She soothed his anger.

She lowered her gaze, painfully aware that she had lost the moment the Prince had chosen her as his wife.

Slowly the sun began to set, so she approached her and informed her that they should eat something − she did not want her to faint because of her.

She knew that she would be met with the fury of her husband.

They sat down on the grass near the fortress a short distance from the wounded, and she took out a piece of bread, cheese and smoked ham from her pack.

"Forgive me, my Lady, this is not a lordly meal. However, I did not think anyone would be joining me today." She said, ripping everything in half and handing it to her in turn. The girl looked at her surprised, her eyes bright, her face gentle.

"We are at war and people are suffering from hunger. A meal like this is perfectly adequate." She said calmly, taking a piece of bread into her mouth without hesitation and biting into it without even croaking.

She knew she must not have liked it, but her behaviour impressed her.

She did not behave like the high-born ladies that she had the opportunity to meet.

They would never eat stale bread, sitting on the dirt with her.

"I imagined you differently, my Lady." She said with amusement, lifting her curious gaze to her. She saw that the girl was confused, feeling that perhaps she was mocking her.

"Indeed?" She asked lightly, trying to hide her anxiety, and she chuckled lowly, unable to contain herself, looking away.

"Yes. Forgive me for this boldness, but you are a charming being." She said lowly, pressing her lips together and looking at her fingers, smiling under her breath.

"What do you mean?" She asked quietly, turning her head away, looking far into the woods, clearly afraid that she would see something in her eyes that she might not like. Alys smiled, seeing this.

"You don't suit this place…" She began, and she looked at her, furrowing her eyebrows charmingly. "…but the fire has called to you, and the scorched earth can breathe at last with relief under the raindrops."

The girl froze completely, her lips parted in shock − she thought, as surprised as she was, that this was not the first time she had heard those words.

"What does that mean?" She asked quietly. She reached out to her with her hand, touching her cheek with her fingers.

It was as soft as she had imagined.

"It means that your husband is not going to die." She said calmly, and then the prince's enraged voice rang out, summoning his wife back to him.

She saw how violently he grabbed her by the nape of the neck, how he pressed his forehead against hers, how his nose traveled down her cheek.

She thought, shocked, that despite the aggression and darkness that filled his heart, he was tender towards her.

He let her go at last, walking away, leaving her alone.

And then all hell broke loose.

The girl whose soft skin she had just appreciated was lying burnt by the dragon fire that she had barely managed to extinguish on her − she watched helplessly as her skin clumped with the material oozing and bleeding.

She thought she should feel the satisfaction of her never being beautiful again, but she didn't.

"My Lady, we have to get out of here, please!" She said loudly, trying to lift her up − the girl sobbed loudly, rising from her knees and they both moved towards the woods.

They fell beneath the trees, a large red dragon burning everything around them. She glanced at her burn and touched it, she screamed in pain − she pulled a bottle from her pocket and unscrewed it, handing it to her.

"Drink, it's poppy milk. It will hurt." She said quickly.

She watched in disbelief as the girl immediately emptied the entire contents, trusting her completely − then her eyes grew misty, her body settled into a half-sleep, and she set to work.

She did everything she could to help her, but her wounds must have left scars.

Her body would never be the same again, she thought, looking at her thoughtfully.

She wondered if he would still love her when he saw her like this.

He, however, when the battle was over literally threw himself at her, falling to his knees beside her.

"− is she alive? −" He breathed out, trembling all at once with madness, terror, happiness and despair. She lowered her gaze, looking at her.

"− yes −" She said quietly, grabbing her wrist, checking her pulse. She felt his hand push her away violently with such force that she fell to the grass.

"− don’t fucking touch her −" He hissed, looking at her with hatred and a murderous rage from which her throat tightened.

His expression changed instantly to one of gentleness when he grasped her cheeks in his hands, as if he became a different person.

She had never seen anything like this before in her life.

"− why is she asleep? −" He asked helplessly, and she sighed quietly, rising to sit up, massaging his shoulder.

"− her attire melted to her skin − I had to clean the tissue, so I gave her poppy milk − I applied the ointment, but she’ll still have extensive scars − the gods are watching over her − the flame flashed across the ground right next to her −" She said calmly.

He pressed his face against his wife's neck, sobbed loudly and froze like that, breathing heavily.

She rose and walked away, allowing him to be alone with her.

He called on her only once afterwards, to show him how to apply medicine to her wounds.

When she unwound the clothes for the first time and he saw how her burned skin looked, he covered his mouth with his hand, his eye red and terrified, his throat clenched. She lowered her gaze at this sight, continuing her work in silence.

When she finished, she saw that he was stroking his wife's cheek, looking at her sleeping face thoughtfully.

"I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear you. I want to be unaware of your existence. If you ever touch her again, look at her, or speak to her, I will take your eyes out, rip out your tongue and cut off your hands." He said slowly, a menace and darkness in his voice from which her throat tightened.

"You may leave."

_____

Taglist 1

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics @tempt-ress @blairfox4 @crazymusicgirl104 @ahristata @menaosama @ladywin17 @queenofshinigamis @rae-seri

[allsadnshit]

I'm always on the hunt for good anti inflammatory nourishing breast balms for health lymphatic drainage and circulation and I just found a new brand I ordered from! It was expensive but it's based in traditional Chinese medicine with wild crafted herbs and owned by a breast cancer survivor and I think that's really beautiful and special and I've always had such a tumultuous relationship to my body and my breasts especially and it feels good to introduce healthy intimate rituals around them

I love traditional Chinese medicine and herbalism so much, there so much within the principles themself and not just the actual medicine that is valuable and just not appreciated and understood anymore

People really like to toss aside folk medicines in general and just put this unnecessary line between modern science and cultural wisdom that hinders everyone and doesn't need to be there

Modern medicine is not evil, but big companies that are in fact trying to get as much money as possible and are trying to get people addicted to pain killers or being irresponsible with their process and testing is no joke and it's not some big conspiracy theory, it's rooted in hundred of lawsuits and should be taken seriously even though I agree it doesn't discredit doctors or all pharmaceuticals

I really wish there was less fear mongering around health and prevention methods because part of the reason I don't like to go with western medicine is how much they inject fear and caution into everything beyond what's healthy in my opinion, and I think they could learn and progress a lot from the spiritual and emotional knowledge that a lot of holistic medicine practices have long since understood

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting -- Olkorwae

As a reminder, all previous entries in this series can be found at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting .

It is said that they produce a shapeless fetus and that a piece of flesh is born. The mother forms the parts of the body by licking it. The shapelessness of the child is the result of its premature birth. It is born only thirty days after conception, and as a result of this rapid fertility it is born unformed. The Olkorwae's head is not strong; its greatest strength lies in its arms and loins; for this reason Olkorwaes sometimes stand upright. Olkorwaes do not neglect the business of healing themselves. If they are afflicted by a mortal blow and injured by wounds, they know how to heal themselves. They expose their sores to the herb called mullein — flomus, the Greeks call it — and are healed by its touch alone. When sick, the Olkorwae eats ants. The Olkorwaes of Numidia stand out from other Olkorwaes by virtue of the shagginess of their hair. Olkorwaes are bred in the same way, wherever they come from. They do not mate like other quadrupeds but embrace each other when they copulate, just like the couplings of humans. Winter arouses their desire. The males respect the pregnant females, and honour them by leaving them alone; although they may share the same lair at the time of birth, they lie separated by a trench. Among Olkorwaes the time of gestation is accelerated. Indeed, the thirtieth day sees the womb free of the child. As a result of this rapid fertility, the babies are created without form. The females produce tiny lumps of flesh, white in colour, with no eyes. These they shape gradually, holding them meanwhile to their breasts so that the babies are warmed by the constant embrace and draw out the spirit of life. During this time Olkorwaes eat no food at all in the first fortnight; the males fall so deeply asleep that they cannot be aroused even if they are wounded, and the females, after they have given birth, hide for three months. Soon after, when they emerge into the open, they are so unused to the light that you would think they had been blinded. They attack beehives and try hard to get honeycombs. There is nothing they seize more eagerly than honey. If they eat the fruit of the mandrake they die. But they prevent the misfortune from turning into disaster and eat ants to regain their health. If they attack bulls, they know the parts to threaten the most, and will not go for any part except the horns or nose: the nose, because the the pain is sharper in the more tender place.

Remember to tag posts with #Olkorwae so folks can find them.

[darkserenity24]

𝑬𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝑪𝒉. 2

Dark! Steve Rogers x Reader

18+ 𝙊𝙣𝙡𝙮. 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙠.

𝘈/𝘕: 𝘈𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘤. 𝘌𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘵 😉

Something was off, and not just with Steve. 

It was with you .

As the weeks passed, it became increasingly more obvious that you were pregnant. Your tummy was rounder, your face a bit puffier, and breasts were fuller.

Your body changing without your permission had slightly disturbed you, causing you to poke and prod at yourself incessantly. Instead of being joyful that you were becoming a mother, you found yourself staring in the mirror more often than not, feeling self-conscious about your ever changing figure. 

It no longer felt like yours anymore. It was the fetus growing inside of you. And Steve’s.

Your doting husband on the other hand couldn’t be happier at the way you were filling out. He was ecstatic to witness you grow, touching and kissing you like you were the most beautiful woman on Earth.

He couldn’t seem to stop touching you, wanting to help with your baths, drying you off, and carefully rubbing moisturizer over your huge belly when you were done.

Steve insisted you continue to drink your tea, telling you it was safe for the baby and still extremely good for your health.

But you didn’t believe that was true. The soothing effect of the dried herbs had disappeared, and soon the tea became tasteless and bitter. 

Then your mind slowly started to come back to you. It wasn’t quick, but you started to regain new memories day by day. 

And then it all started to make sense. 

Your strange moods, your unusual discomfort with the pregnancy. Steve’s wariness and close observation of you. Everything was falling into place.

One silent night as you laid next to your slumbering husband, all of your memories came rushing back to you. Every single thing that happened all those months ago.

Natasha. The pills. The club. Steve’s furious reaction to everything.

What he did to you that night.

It all became too much. 

So much so that you locked yourself in the alone bathroom one morning, not being able to withstand sleeping in the same bed as Steve. You sunk to the floor with your arms wrapped tightly around yourself.

You were so gone in your head that you didn’t hear Steve’s worried call of your name from the other side of the door. You didn’t hear his incessant knocks that eventually turned into loud bangs. You even barely noticed when he opened the door from the other side, placing a key on the sink counter before rushing over to you.

You didn’t know there was a key to the bathroom.

Instantly his questions came at you. What was wrong? Why did you lock yourself in the bathroom? Why did you lock him out?

You were unable to give him the answers he wanted, only squeaking out one sentence.

“I-I feel sick.”

That was the truth. You were extremely nauseous and your head continued to spin.

“Sick, alright…” Your husband nodded with furrowed brows. “Well, regardless of what’s going on you can’t do that again. I need to be able to help you, and locking me out is not the answer.”

There was real concern in his blue eyes but that didn’t stop you from missing the coldness that was hidden right beneath the surface.

“No more doing that. No more locking me out. Alright?”

With a hard gulp, you quickly nodded.

The way he went out of his way to care for you was almost sickening now that you knew the truth.

Now that you knew exactly who he was, and who you were.

The growing fetus inside you was Steve’s baby. 

You understood that it was half of you as well, but you didn’t have any real connection to the growing child inside of you yet and it wasn’t because of your lack of trying. It was because of the situation that its overbearing father put you in. 

Yet you tried your best not to show your kidnapper that you were on to him. Again.

No matter how hard it was for you to continue with the facade of being the hypnotized and heavily pregnant wife, you did just that. You didn’t know what to do about the situation you were in. Steve certainly couldn’t know that you knew .

But Steve wasn’t stupid. 

Weeks had passed since your revelation. You continued to hide your true feelings as well as you could. But eventually the old you started to come out. The real you.

The one who had no problem expressing her feelings. The one who was never afraid to tell her best friend when he was wrong. Only Steve wasn’t your best friend anymore.

Any lingering effects from the deceptive drink eventually wore off completely and you caught yourself talking back to Steve more often than not. Your defiance only led him to up the amount of tea he made you drink daily.

You gulped, eying the mug apprehensively before sliding your gaze up to your husband. He was standing right next to you, staring at you with an expectant look on his handsome features.

“Go on,” he nodded towards the mug, watching as you dumped the prenatal vitamins in your mouth before shakily lifting the mug of tea to your lips.

You softly blew the steam away before taking a few hesitant sips.

“There you go,” he purred with a tilt of his head as he stroked your hair. “Good girl.”

It took everything in you not to spit the liquid straight out of your mouth and onto the floor. You absolutely hated this.

You hated what Steve was doing to you, the power he had over you. You got away with not drinking the tea whenever you could but that was rare. Steve made sure he was always there to watch you consume it. 

He wouldn’t leave you be until the mug was empty of its deceptive contents. He had to make sure you were still under his control. Especially after the incident with Natasha a few months ago.

You can say that the little trust he had with you all but vanished after that night.

After experiencing such a grueling situation, it would have been wise for you to tone down your rebellious behavior. But the old you stuck up a middle finger at the idea of continuing to give Steve what he wanted.

“You’re going to hurt the baby if you keep doing this.” 

You rolled your eyes at Steve as he stood before you with a deep frown on his face. He had tried to convince you that your sour attitude to his demands was harmful for the child.

He did this a lot nowadays. Guilt tripping you and trying to make you feel stupid for not fully complying with him.

You should have been more careful when you stared at him mockingly while downing the whole mug of tea in only a few seconds, but the fire inside of you wouldn’t burn out. It was only getting bigger.

One morning when he thought you were still sleeping, you tiptoed downstairs, catching Steve in mid-conversation with none other than Thor Odinson.

“I know you warned me that the tea didn’t work on pregnant women, but I had to try,” He said quietly.

You couldn’t see his face but his tone was filled with an undeserved heaviness.

“I am sorry to hear that you and your bride are having troubles, my friend. However, if her memories have returned they must not be troubling her as much as you think. Why else would she still be here?” Thor optimistically questioned. “She must be so deeply in love with you that she cannot bear to leave. Perhaps she’s finally accepted this beautiful life you have built for her. Anyone would be insane to run from what you provide for her.”

“That hasn’t stopped her before,” Steve grumbled. “Though she hardly got the chance to try before I shut her down. But maybe you're right. Maybe she realizes what she has, and how much I love her. How much she means to me.”

Steve’s hopeful view of your relationship with him quickly came to a crash when you confronted him about it later that day.

“I was an Avenger!” you screamed at him, throwing a plate that would’ve landed right in the middle of his head if he was anyone else and not Captain America. 

He dodged it easily, but that didn’t prevent you from feeling impressed by what you just did. Your old fighting skills seemed to have been coming back along with your old memories.

“And you took that away from me. You took my whole life away from me just for me to become your useless housewife because you’re a selfish bastard!”

“I saved your life .” His voice thundered through the dining room. “You were always being reckless and stupid, and I was always there to handle you. To take care of you. You wouldn’t have lasted as long as you did without me.”

“Maybe so,” You shakily whispered, voice hoarse from the yelling. “But did you ever get it through your head that I didn’t want you? Not like you wanted me.” You swallowed hard before saying your next words. “Maybe I would have rather been dead than to be here stuck with you, and involuntarily pregnant with your baby.”

You knew those words were cruel, and you could tell by the way Steve’s face paled that he was extremely taken aback. A very small part of you felt just a tinge of guilt because you remembered that Steve was your friend once before. 

You remembered all the good times with him when you were extremely grateful to have had a friend like Steve Rogers. 

Now you absolutely despised him.

You instantly regretted those words when you found yourself being locked alone in your bedroom that night.

The next day, Steve unlocked the door from the other side, allowing you to sneak out. To your relief, he was nowhere to be found. You weren’t surprised when you discovered that the front door was also locked from the outside. You had no idea how he could do that.

An eerie thought popped into your mind as you wandered through the house. You paused before strutting to the door that led to the backyard. That was locked too. 

So was the door to the garage. Not only were all the doors locked from the other side, but so were the windows. You let out a shaky breath, slowly sinking to the floor when you realized what Steve was doing.

Now that you were no longer under his spell the only way to control you and make sure you didn’t leave him was by trapping you inside. 

As soon as he returned home you were on him in an instant, begging him to let you go.

“You can’t do this!” You were following him around the house, hot angry tears streaming down your face.

He paused in his steps, turning around to face you with a raised brow. “Can’t I?”

You glared at him, not liking how calm he was while you were almost hysterical.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood to attention when he let out a humorless chuckle. Brawny arms folded across his chest as he stared at you.

“Did you truly think that I’d let you just walk out of here? Like I didn’t take what you said the other day as a threat?”

“I didn’t-.”

“You didn’t what?” He sneered, taking slow steps towards you as you backed away. “You didn’t threaten to kill yourself? Because that’s what I heard.”

Your eyes widened comically large. “Kill- what?! That’s not what I-.”

“You were going to leave me and you were going to hurt yourself and my baby. I can’t trust you. Not with a knife and neither with my child’s life. You’re going to be monitored 24/7 until I feel like I can trust you again.”

Steve did exactly what he promised, not leaving your side unless it was absolutely necessary. He was there for every meal, every bath, every time you sat around to read a book, and every time you went to sleep. Honestly, it wasn’t much different from before, the only difference was that he was starting to drive you crazier as each day passed.

Not many people were allowed in the house before, and now that you were on lockdown down no one was allowed over at all. Not even the Avengers. If you weren’t lonely before you started disobeying Steve, you certainly were now. 

You felt like everyone had abandoned you, including Natasha. Yes, Steve had all but banned her from your home but you didn’t think she would give up so easily. Especially not after trying to get you out of the situation, and revealing to you who you really were.

Weeks had passed by with no sign of anyone else but your captor, but you were pleasantly surprised to find someone else that wasn’t Steve make their way inside of your house.

“Bucky?”

Story Masterlist

✦ 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘰. 𝘙𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 🤍 

✦ 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘒𝘰-𝘧𝘪 ✨: 𝘩𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘴://𝘬𝘰-𝘧𝘪.𝘤𝘰𝘮/𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺24