#Let! Anime! Men! Have! Wrinkles!

[keicordelle]

It took me like an hour to find a copy of this movie but I'm so glad I did

there need to be more gilfs in anime

[haveihitanerve]

The comments were usual. Frequent even. Bruce bore them all with a smile, either acting like a bored teenager forced to attend the events he had planned, or blushing, sculpting the Brucie persona before he had even reached his twenties. 

“Oh Brucie!!!” They would twitter at him, women and men alike, pawing at his arms, his shoulders, chest, some even boldly reaching for his ass, snaking an arm around him, pulling him closer. “You look delicious baby.” They’d murmur, pur, coo over him. 

Alfred would get rightfully angry over the comments, when Bruce told him, but after the anger led to nothing, Bruce stopped coming home with the stories. He just went to bed, showering off all the handprints and touches. 

And then Dick came along.

“Bruuuuuuuuuce!” The nine year old whined, hissing the ending syllable like a snake. “I wanna gooooo!!!” Bruce chuckled lightly, fixing his cuffs in the mirror. 

“I highly doubt it chum.” He murmured, glancing over at his ward, seated on the foot of his bed. Dick pouted, the full package; lip out and arms crossed, and Bruce laughed, walking over to grab his tie and ruffle the boys hair. 

“Its a boring Gala, bud. Not too exciting.” Dick huffed, watching as Bruce expertly wound the tie around his neck, swinging the sides over and through. 

“Its a pARty!” He pointed out. “And I wanna go.” Bruce hummed to show he was listening, buttoning up the bottom two buttons of his suit, before letting his hands drop to his side. 

He sighed. “Do you want to wear a suit?” Dick’s eyes sparked up with excitement before he wrinkled his nose. 

“Do I hafta?” He complained. Bruce laughed, turning to face him. 

“Yes. Its a formal event. Suit, or you’re not coming.” The threat of a suit made the words take a moment to sink in, but once they did Dick rocketeded across the room, flying into Bruce’s arms. 

“For real???” He squealed, all excitement and little kid energy. “Hell yeah!” He bolted out the door to his own room before Bruce could so much as open his mouth to chide “language.” 

The car ride over was a new level of annoyance Bruce didn't know existed, as Dick bounced around in his seat, eagerly looking out the window for the first glimpse of his first “real adult party”. Still, he couldn't help but smile at Dick's unbridled joy.  

Hank, Bruce’s chauffeur, bore all of it with a smile, regaling Dick with stories of picking up Bruce when he was a teenager, and all the college hell, while Dick cackled and Bruce rolled his eyes. But, then again, Hank had his own three kids at home, and was marginally more used to the watts of energy than Bruce was. 

“Here ya are Mr. Wayne.” Hank finally cut off all of Dick’s peppering questions about Bruce’s college stories, a relief, as Hank was really getting into the bad stuff, or in Dicks mind, the good stuff, and Bruce hopped out, opening the door for his son. “Thank you!” Dick twittered as he leapt out, waving. 

Hank chuckled, dipping his hat. “Of course Mr. Wayne, hope you have a fun night.” Dick grinned back, and it surprised Bruce that he was so okay with hank calling him “Wayne.” But, then again, his boy and the driver seemed to have an easier relationship. Bruce certainly wasn't going to call him out. 

It did something to him, flooded his body with something heavy and warm, to hear Dick be called “Wayne”. Maybe a primal thing, an old animal instinct, the need to claim and own and have Dick. Dick was his son, maybe not by blood, but by… everything and anything Dick allowed him to have. 

“B!” Dick chirped, already a few feet up the steps, a frown on his face as he looked back. Bruce realized he’d been lost in thought at the side of the road. 

“Coming chum.” He agreed quickly, hurrying to his wards side before the entered. 

“Woah.” Dick breathed, the second they breached the door, and Bruce silently agreed. Gala’s weren’t fun for a plethora of reasons, but they were always beautiful. 

Almost immediately though, camera’s swarmed him, not only flashes of light but also of sickeningly white teeth, too wide mouths, pale skin pawing for his attention. 

“Brucie, darling!!!” One man twittered, and they successfully separated them, dragging Bruce over to one gaggle of rich twats while a few others circled Dick. Dick seemed to be taking it remarkably well, nodding politely and smiling, shaking hands, but his eyes darted to Bruce every few seconds, questions in his eyes. 

“Excuse me-” Bruce brushed past his virus of people and forced his way beside Dick, kneeling so he was at eye level.

“Everything alright?” he murmured quietly, tucking Dick into his space, warding off others. He almost wanted to say “i told you so” but figured it’d only do more harm than good. Pointing it out when Dick was clearly overwhelmed would not be helpful, or nice in any capacity. 

Dick nodded, shoulders imperceptibly dropping in relief as he allowed himself to be caged by Bruce’s body. “Y-yeah. Fine. Better now.” Bruce let the unspoken words hang between them, “-that you’re here”, and nodded instead, standing. 

“Stay close.” he flicked his fingers and Dick obediently stepped closer, pushing into Bruce’s space with hardly a thought.

And, Bruce realized quietly, he didn't mind either. Having people in his space… touch had never been his thing, after his parents death. Especially not when that touch came from unsympathetic elites after his parents money. But with Dick… it was, easier. Nice. 

The rest of the night went by a little better, and Dick even stepped away a few feet, always close by, but straying enough that he wasn't hiding behind Bruce’s legs. In his shadow. It was then that it happened. 

“Oh aren’t you just beautiful.” The words came from Mrs. Braught, a well known widow with enough wealth to compete with the Drakes, if not Waynes. She was… known for her affinity to younger men, boys, really, and Bruce had only managed to not make the cut because he had known, as a boy, and avoided her, and wasn’t as “appealing” to her, due to his depression. 

Dick stiffened slightly at the words, but still offered her a smile, polite, as always. The reaction made Bruce relax marginally. He was okay, he was handling it, just like Bruce had. 

But… but Dick’s smile was strained, his shoulders inching near his ears, and there was a definite tilt to him, a lean away from Braught that was easy to miss. But not to Bruce. 

Before he knew what he was doing, Bruce was at his wards side- no, in front of him, shoving Dick behind his legs. Dick stumbled, lightly, at the sudden push, but quickly straightened, grabbing the back of Bruce’s coat. The trembling Bruce could feel through the fabric was enough to make him see red. 

The Brucie persona was gone, slipping off without a singe thought, fast enough that Bruce wondered for a fraction of a second if it had even been on when he had entered the Gala, and Bruce realized it wasn't just Dick’s hand trembling, but Bruce’s whole body. 

His fists curled, hard enough that his knuckles turned white, jaw clenched to the point where his teeth squeaked, entire body quivering with rage. 

Mrs. Braught glanced up, surprised, almost caught off guard even, as she realized Brucie Wayne wasn't there for a pleasant hello, but Bruce was there, a man- no, a father, furious at what was being said about his son. 

Bruce could hear, faintly, as though through water, people beginning to whisper, eyes wide as the elites gathered around, no one bold enough to step in, and no one truly believing Brucie would do anything. 

Bruce didn't care. Dick was his, and he would not allow the traumas of the past to repeat, though he had failed to stop him from being orphaned. No more. He vowed, hands fisting at his sides. He had failed Dick in the one, true way that mattered, keeping his family, but he would not fail him any other way. Not in the ways Bruce was failed. 

His hand began to move back on its own accord, when a tiny, stubborn hand caught it, grabbed his wrist. Bruce looked down in surprise to find Dick staring up him solemnly, shaking his head.

Before Bruce could say something, another woman, another widow Bruce recognized as Mrs. Kershaw, stepped forward, fire bright in her weathered eyes. 

“You go on and git out of here Gertrude, before I tar your hide.” She hissed, and Bruce recalled how her own daughter had been raped and murdered when she had been barely thirteen. Gertrude knew it too, and backed away, scurrying for the exit. Mrs. Kershaw made sure she left, eyes kind when she glanced at Bruce, a subtle nod of solidarity her only acknowledgement. 

Dick tugged on his hand, but Bruce ignored him, sending a viscous glare at anyone who dared step too close. 

“Dad.” Dicks voice was soft, so soft, but proud too, grateful. That finally dragged Bruce from his never ending anger, and he looked down. Down at those wide blue eyes, that head of messy black curls.

“Come on Dad.” Dick whispered quietly, eyes darting around nervously at all the people, the cameras, but always going back to Bruce. Meeting his eyes. 

Bruce bent down and scooped his son into his arms, uncaring of who saw, who cared. He blocked his son off from the world, heading for the exit, one of the waitstaff, Aisha, nodding at him to inform him Hank had been called. 

“Thanks Dad.” Dick murmured, face buried against Bruce’s neck, and Bruce’s arms tightened around him, heading out into the streets of Gotham with his son cradled to his chest. 

“I’ll always protect you chum.” He swore, and something in his heart lightened at the Justice he was doing for his son, but also for his younger self. “I will always protect you.” 

thanks to @frownyalfred and @astorianyxkings for the idea!

[rottiens]

BAD DECISIONS┊RYOMEN SUKUNA

wc. ౨ৎ⋆˚ 1.9K

tags. ౨ৎ⋆˚ 18+, modern au, all characters are adults (21+), marking and hickeys, enemies to ?, bully sukuna, none of your friends like him but he is around because he is yuuji's older brother, fem reader, dirty talk, praising (atta girl), fingering.

In late September, a few weeks away from embracing autumn, anyone would think that the weather is starting to cool down, that the unbearable sun is lowering its intensity for the poor mortals who walk under it like ants fleeing from a child with a magnifying glass, but in Yuuji's apartment it's much worse. The air conditioner died months ago and none of the brothers have bothered to fix it, making it a challenge every time the group of friends gathers at the Itadori's apartment not to die from a heat wave.

At least for you, who have been accused of being more sensitive to heat than any other average person.

Too hot to be outside on the balcony (exposed to the hot air, to Maki's cigarette smoke), too hot to be all inside the apartment (piled up like sardines on the couch).

So all your friends are very unevenly distributed. About five are inside the apartment watching the soccer game while the rest are outside trying to cool off every time the warm air blows.

You are uneasy, this is the third time Nobara has commented on it. An hour ago she stopped your foot tapping against the ground with a gentle kick from the sole of her shoe and now she comes back and does it a second time.

"Stop it," she says with a frown, a few shades more annoyed due to the heat. Then she laughs softly downplaying her apparent anger. "What's wrong?" she asks softly, examining you.

Nothing, you lie the first time she asks. And you lie to her again now. "Seriously, what's wrong?"

You hide half your face in the glass to take a long drink of the now warm soda that is beginning to taste salty. Raising your head, you can't escape in time this time, Sukuna's eyes look you up and down from across the floor. He wears the same look as a wild animal, his hair disheveled from the heat, gray pants and compressed black t-shirt tell you he's barely home from the gym. You take another quick drink that hurts your dry throat.

Sukuna shakes his head to the side indicating for you to follow him, then hides down the hallway to continue his route.

Your fingers squeeze the glass full of water droplets that slip through your hands from time to time. You feel Nobara's gaze piercing your temples, so you decide to look at her.

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out of it. So you try again.

"I'm going to use the bathroom. It's too hot," you lie (again) with wrinkles in your forehead, then take an unsure step forward to move away from the balcony but her fingers squeeze your forearm gently stopping you from your escape.

"Is it Sukuna again? Is he bothering you?"

Fuck. Guilt shot through your chest, your teeth were sinking into your lip.

"I- no. I told him not to bother me, I'm not interested in the same annoying games from when we were six."

You sound convincing, enough for Nobara to let you go shaking her head in approval, along with a look that assures she's willing to fight anyone for you.

You slip out of her hand and behind the couch where the group of men are talking and yelling and chewing nachos too loud for any normal chewer.

Your heart beats fast, guilt, adrenaline and excitement is a dangerous cocktail that pushes you to search for Sukuna through the narrow corridor, lurking in the corners of the half-open doors. You were going through the bathroom when an unexpected force pulls your body inside, the force, now materialized as Sukuna, smashes you against the door without gentleness.

"Fuck you," you complain at the impact, wrinkling your nose.

"I might," Sukuna retorts, dark eyes set on your lips.

You clear your throat and fix your back, dry your hands on the denim of your shorts and force yourself to look him in the eye.

"This has to stop."

"What?" Sukuna asks, dangerously close to your mouth. His hands are around your head over the door preventing any escape and his cologne mixed with sweat numbs your senses.

"This," you point a finger at each other's bodies, between the little space between you two. "This! You, flirting with me..."

"Brat."

"Stop."

"We've done more than flirt."

He is smiling again, that smile that signals danger. That smile that shows his sharp fangs that could cut through the darkness. You clear your thoughts with a breath of air from his scent.

"It was just a kiss," you defend yourself with a hint of indignation, flashes of the scene of you on the stairs of Megumi's house detonating in your head.

"You gave me a handjob."

"Jesus."

Unfortunately, you did. You squeeze your eyes shut pushing out the memories of that bad decision along with a throbbing headache that threatens in your temples.

"Sukuna..."

He pulls your chin with two fingers, the action makes you snap your eyes open focused on his gaze and long lashes, your skin burning under his touch. He keeps looking at your mouth.

"I like it when you say my name," he confesses.

"Sukuna..." you can't help but call him back.

"Yeah, just like that."

Sukuna traces the line of your jaw with his soft lips, the shadow of a beard tickles your skin, his nose stumbles against your flesh as he creeps up to your ear painfully slow.

"I thought I'd return the favor," he murmurs, patting your pussy covered by the thick fabric of your shorts and you wonder if even through all the fabric he can feel the heat emanating from your core.

"You don't have to..." you stutter.

"You just keep calling my name."

Expert fingers remove the button and undo the zipper without wasting time, then push your panties aside and what he stumbles over makes him laugh unfunnily at the line of your throat.

"All this for me?" You try to stop him, have an excuse with which to defend yourself when you tell your version of events to your friend and push his hand away while at the same time moving your hips towards him. "This pussy is so wet just for me, for your bully? That's what you call me, isn't it?" he laughs again, the vibrations tangling in the back of your ear and in the wet strands of your hair. You swallow and think about Nobara, what she will say, how guilty you feel and the pain in your temples that is starting to become more noticeable.

Sukuna carefully slides a long finger between your folds making a mess of your pussy juices. He flicks your clit a little in tight circles, you spread your legs wider to give him permission.

Your head hits the door with a soft sound exposing your throat to him, the heat of Sukuna's body drowns you, increases the heat of the room in the form of steam and you feel you can't breathe as he keeps kissing, biting your neck, the piercing ball on his tongue is cold and slippery. One finger pushes inside your slippery pussy easily and a second follows.

"No marking," you remind him, gasping as he adjusts his wrist to go deeper and increase the pace.

Sukuna's kisses on your neck distract you, his tousled hair tickles you. His open mouth leaves kisses on the salty skin of your throat and he sucks and licks and bites at it in a way that makes you wish he made his mouth be somewhere else on your body.

You gasp weakly, his fingers moving in a different way inside you, the squelch of him fucking you hard against the bathroom door bouncing between the tiles and into your skull, all you can hear is his chuckle and how wet you are. Your body slips through the door but a hand on your waist forces you to stand closer to his body and it is only then that you realize how hard he is against your thigh.

Your gazes connect and he gives you that lopsided smirk. "There you go, attagirl."

You squeeze around his fingers, your arousal spilling out around them. You're panting like a dog, your mouth open and Sukuna has to force himself not to bend over and suck your tongue.

Suddenly someone tries to open the door, jiggling the doorknob and knocking desperately. "Hey!" Nobara. Your eyes widen, you try to stop Sukuna but his fingers keep abusing your poor pussy, maltiling a spot inside you.

"You're going to cum," Sukuna murmurs into your temples. "Bite me if you have to."

No! you move your lips without getting the word out, alarmed.

"You will. You are going to cum so hard on my fingers while you fantasize that it's my cock making you feel good," he whispers in your ear, biting it, the ball on his tongue rolling all over the lobe of your ear.

"Hey, baby? Are you there?" Nobara insists.

You can't. You want to run away from there, you want to resist it.

"What do you want, brat?" Sukuna raises his tone of voice.

Sukuna's body embraces you, he is everywhere, the girth of his cock presses against you and you can't help but remember that day. How wet he was from his precum, from your spit, you don't want to think about how big it was, how thick and how good it would feel stretching you.

"Open the door, Sukuna. If you have her there with you..."

You think you might cum with just the tip throbbing inside you, you've seen it before: it's thick and turns red just before he cum. Your fangs sink into his skin marking him, cumming silently as you think about how it would feel to finally have him sinking into you.

"I'm taking a fucking shower, if you want to see my dick just say so."

"You're disgusting." And you are more so. This can't happen again.

As soon as Nobara moves away from the door you push him off your body to go wash your face, the water cools your cheeks and neck but does nothing for your clouded thoughts.

"You..." You look at him, but he's licking his fingers, his pierced tongue licks them up and down and your eyes without permission go to his hard cock where there are now little wet spots. "I hate you."

You are ready to leave but Sukuna wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls you close to his body.

"You can hate me all you want but that pussy of yours��.” he smiles.

"Shut up."

You don't know how much more you could take of his dirty mouth without your face exploding with heat, you pull your arm and manage to escape his grip. Looking at him one last time before you open the door.

"Not even a kiss goodbye?"

"Ugh!"

You slam the door shut, trotting into the kitchen where you open the fridge and take out a bottle of water, which you immediately bring to your dry mouth. As you close the door, as if it were a ghost Nobara is waiting for you on the other side with arms crossed, making you choke on the water and immediately cough.

"Where were you?" She asks with a judging look examining you up and down.

"I was... looking for a charger."

"You've got to be fucking with me."

"What?"

"The hickey on your neck, smartass." Fuck! "You could at least pretend. Your fucking zipper is open, really, Sukuna?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

[envy-of-the-apple]

ive been really obsessed with your gojo/geto naga oneshots and asks lately it feels like literal brain rot at this point its so good. ive reread it 6 times lol

i was wondering though, what would Geto do if Gojo was just a little bit too heavy handed with you? to the point of a sprained or broken arm or leg. Would he get mad at Gojo or just mad in general that reader was hurt? Also how would they act in response to the injured reader who can't do basic tasks themselves, I personally think they would enjoy the fact she relied on them even more to even move now.

Reminder requests are still closed!!!! I just love this idea so so much holdon lemme-

Part one Part three

(Yandere, dark, implied forced relationships, noncon touching, biting, language barriers, drugging(?))

Top of the Food Chain pt2

Dark!Naga!SatoSugu x reader

Two days later, Satoru still wasn't allowed inside the cave.

You can hear him, hissing and clicking, right outside, hovering just behind the invisible line Suguru refused to let him pass. If you weren't already in so much pain, you would have found pity on the poor thing. He wasn't allowed in his own home, even though the incident wasn't entirely his fault.

Technically, Satoru saved you. It was yet again another escape attempt. Something you'd been doing a lot these days once you've figured out these beings' intentions with you. You'd gotten past the rock quarry this time, a new record. Your plan was filled with holes: there was no way to truly escape the island. You had no boat, no way to call for help. Still, you ran, forgetting that there were more dangerous things on this island other than two territorial serpent men.

It was a monster. There was no other way to describe it. Big, ugly, shiny spikes and sharp teeth, eyes dripping with bloodlust. You would have been eaten, killed, maimed, if Satoru hadn't caught up with you in time.

The only collateral was the loss of nearby plant life and your broken wrist.

That had been Satoru's fault. He'd pulled at you too hard at the hand. The remnants of adrenaline from the fight, his anger, anger made him too rough on your fragile body. He froze at the wet snap, and then you started screaming. That was how Suguru had found you. Despite how much Satoru clicked and hummed and tittered, from his mate's look, you doubted it helped his case.

Another lonely coo made you wince. Suguru only huffed, wrapping you tighter in his coils. They were already warm from your body heat. The numerous animal pelts helped your comfort too.

"Make him stop," you beg, "he's been going on for hours."

At that, Suguru lifts his head from the base of your neck. He tilts his head as he surveys you, and you can't help but think how awful you must look. Sickly-looking from the pain, clammy skin. He can't do much about your appearance, but the least he could do was shut Satoru up.

"What want?" Suguru asks, "water?"

At that, he picks up a sack filled with sea-smelling water. You wrinkle your nose, turning away, cocooning yourself within his coils. With the increased pain, your appetite has decreased, as well as your thirst. The stress of being trapped like this along with your broken wrist was starting to take its toll on your body.

Suguru makes a sound of disapproval, shuffling around behind you. You know he's still mad about the escape attempt, but he's concerned enough for your well-being to put his anger to the side for now. He'd helped wrap your wrist, using something stretchy and soft.

You raise your wrist up, inspecting the thin material wrapped around your wrist. You're not sure what it is, it's too silky to resemble cotton. It must be from the foliage around the island. Yet, another strange thing you'd never find the answer to.

There's another rumble coming from the Naga's chest. He wraps a hand around your chin, bringing your face closer. In his other, he holds the dripping sack.

"Suguru," it's too soft to be anything more than a whine, "it hurts too much to take anything right now. Stop."

"Hurt?" he asks.

To that, you gesture to your broken wrist. It may not have been broken, you were no doctor, so you couldn't say for certain. But considering you'd been in the same amount of pain for two days, it really didn't matter to you.

A click, before he's tossing a glare at the entrance of the cave. He'd already given Satoru a beating right before coming to coddle you. Despite being bigger than his mate, Satoru is docile enough to take them. Suguru had been acting more aggressive lately. You had a feeling it was your fault.

He'd been inspecting your wrist every so often, but you see a different look within his brown eyes now as he takes your injured hand. He carefully turns your palm over, pressing slightly into your wrist. When you yelp, he retracts.

"Hurt." Suguru confirms. You can only nod.

"Hurt. No drink? No eat?" You don't like the way he's talking. As if he's putting a puzzle piece together. Coming to a solution you won't like.

When you go to pull away, his grip only tightens.

"No hurt," he says it like a promise, as though you're a toddler and he's coaxing you into drinking a sour-tasting medicine. His lips part, revealing the fangs you've often seen him use on meat, on Satoru.

Never did you think he'd ever use them on you.

"Suguru," you're pleading, trying to move away when he bends down, his hair brushing your sweaty forehead. You can feel his breath on your neck.

"No hurt," he repeats, and then he bites down.

He lied, of course, he did. His teeth puncture your skin, tearing through like paper. You think you screamed, or maybe it was more akin to a pitiful whimper. In the background, you can hear someone hiss, Satoru maybe?

For a second, you feel everything, the pain, the puncture wound, Suguru lightly licking your neck.

And then, you feel weightless.

It's hard to describe, but your brain feels like it's turned to mush. Your body feels like you're on a soft cloud, just there, floating. In the back of your mind, you remember how dazed Satoru would get whenever Suguru bit him. At the time, you just thought he was lovestruck.

When Suguru pulls away, he's smiling. A trail of blood, your blood goes down his lip. You can barely keep your eyes on him, close to falling asleep.

"No hurt," he says. When he leans down to kiss you, you accept without a single fuss.

You don't remember much after that, but you remember accepting whatever Suguru put in your mouth. The panic in your body was non-existent as he held the water-sack above your lips, watching as your throat bobbed. You think he kissed you a few more times, but you're not too sure. You were a lot more averse to kissing before. It'd make sense he'd take advantage of it.

When you wake up again, you're in between two bodies. The pain in your wrist is still there, but not as horrible as before. You're still groggy, mind fuzzy. Whatever Suguru had given you was still in effect.

Satoru is the first to notice you're awake. Suguru and him must have made up during the time you were unconscious. He props himself up, peering down at you. With how dim the cave is, you can barely make out his features. He looks just as guilty as he had two days ago.

"Sorry," he mutters, "is sorry."

If you weren't still high, you might have laughed. When you continue to stare, he takes it in stride, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, then your lips. You wince in distaste, leaning back.

"Stop," you say but don't fight when he licks at your jaw. You can barely move your fingers.

Panic is still far away, a distant call than anything alarming. It should worry you, but you still can't feel anything.

Suguru is at your back. You can hear his scales move across the cavern floor. He gives a hum, content as he curls himself around you. He doesn't seem to mind Satoru's touches. Your theory that they must have made up is unfortunately starting to strengthen.

You could barely manage Suguru's coddlings. You don't think you'll survive Satoru's.

"Sorry," he mouths into your neck. You can feel the grip on your waist starting to tighten. He stops, rising up to stare at you.

Blue, almost glowing.

"But no more leave."

You're coherent enough to piece together what he means. You can't escape Satoru. You can't escape Suguru. You can't leave this island. Running away is useless.

The nagas understood it. It's time you did too.

"Yes," you finally say, "no more leave."

[sinsofsummers]

logan howlett | h.c.

anyways. here's my intro to writing logan. enjoy these unedited, rambling thoughts. i personally loveeeee me some rabid, animalistic logan like in x-men (2000), so expect lots of that for this. some of these could turn into more detailed fics, so tbh just...let me know if u want one.

logan is a tits man. he loves to ruin yours.

it's like he's drawn to your chest at all times; he needs his hands on them so often that you've just stopped wearing bras.

he'll touch you absentmindedly, without taking his eyes off what he's doing. but like a moth to a flame, his calloused fingertips find your nipples anyway.

he also likes to use his claws on your chest—just enough to leave a thin red line after he's done with you. (once, he drew blood, and he's still not willing to admit the heat that it ignited in him. he doesn't think you're ready for that yet.)

you know he wouldn't hurt you—right? but logan's not exactly the reassuring type. so you just hold still and shiver as the sharp edges run over the swells of your chest.

he loves the smell of your arousal. good thing you're one nibble on your neck away from soaking your panties. at all times.

logan gets you to sit in his lap, hold your cigar for him, and then he'll lean into your chest to suck and bite on your tits.

he likes to see a combo of his claw scratches and beard burn on them.

he likes to bite you. obviously he won't leave you in terrible pain, but it's the marking of territory that he likes.

and logan can be mean. seriously. he'll take what he wants.

he doesn't necessarily mean to be unforgiving, but...he's quite the animal. bring back feral, unhinged, rabid wolverine.

he likes pet play (it's a dominance thing). being at either end of it. collar and leash vibes. calls you pup.

logan's always scowling. you tease him about the wrinkles he'll have when he's older, but it only makes them deeper as he frowns at you.

constantly growling. grunting. he rarely whines, because he rarely lets you take charge. when he does, you'd better strap in.

his claws come out when he's close, and he doesn't tease. none of this, "tell me what you want, princess," and "touch you where? use your words" bullshit. logan fucks. full stop.

he'll do you the courtesy of making sure you're ready for him, but with his heightened sense of smell and his inability to control himself when it comes to that smirk on your face when you know he's in a rut...

yeah. he gets right to it. he'll fuck you into a quick orgasm. and another. and another.

but occasionally, he loves orgasm denial.

"logan, i'm gonna—"

"don't care. hold it."

brat tamer!logan. he knows you can take it, so he doesn't hold back when you need to be put in your place.

free use!logan. he's a man of few words. sometimes he just needs you. and you're always willing to help.

he's not vocal during sex unless you ask for it. which you make sure to.

he likes to be very nonchalant, which can come off as inattentive. but it's just the fact that he knows you so well that he doesn't have to look at you to realize what you need.

you could go up to him while he's on the couch, cigar in his mouth, and just stand there. without more than lifting his eyes to you, he'll pretend to roll his eyes and guide you to his lap with a hand behind your thigh.

he'll hold his cigar to your mouth and wait for you to take a drag before you place it back between his lips wordlessly.

is this an exhibition kink vibe

he'll also just hand things to you in public, doing very casual, domestic things that he won't really acknowledge.

he'll hand you his drink to share, even if you don't like it. he'll offer you a bite of food off his fork (or his fingers).

every once in awhile you'll see his eyes watching you and you'll know. he's quiet, but it's that quiet display of dominance that will have your core weeping in seconds.

andddddd i'm gonna go REPENT!

[dmitriene]

cw: dead dove, kidnapping, cannibalism, gore and dead bodies.

simon riley's butcher shop is quite popular in a small town, where, unlike the usual stores, meat products are fresher and not so overpriced, and dishes from his meat turn out to be so delicious that everyone comes back here earlier than the end of the week, because they have already eaten what they recently bought.

no one understands that on the long counter behind clean glass there is not the usual fresh meat of a once ripe cow or pig, but human flesh, among the pieces of different sizes there may be someone's overly rude neighbor, who once allowed himself to insult simon, or a young woman who was annoyingly sticky to him.

no one even thinks of the small farm in a cold, gloomy refrigerated storage room filled with the bodies of both men and women, dark metal hooks gleaming with a reflective, dim light that fades in simon's liquid eyes, the thick wooden handle of the cleaver clutched in his thick fingers, before simon raises the clean blade over his cornered victim, blood splattering scarlet and warm liquid around.

his heavy hands rest on the pale, slashed neck of the corpse to cover the grisly, blood oozing incision of split layers of the skin, allowing the liquid mess taint his bare, scarred arms and the apron, preferring to stain himself and the floor beneath rather than the walls, which would then have to be washed of ingrained dried blood and the foul smell of spreading rot.

simon is pulled out of his delicate focus as he squats down and examines each limb of the corpse, the tongue behind his closed lips running along the line of his sturdy teeth, his thick hands pondering and feeling the soft, fatty areas of the body in front of him, noting how much he can take, before a bell rings from the further side of the wall, indicating someone's arrival at the store.

he hurriedly wipes his hands so that they do not drip with viscous blood on the floor, running along the sides of his shirt with wet, soaking stripes before heading for the exit from the storage room and looking out into the store hall, eyes quickly searching for the person who came in, before his inky gaze slows down on you, meeting the peering gleam of your stare.

you're out of sorts, not on your plate, fingers tugging at the fabric of your jeans, fidgeting at the pale parts of them as you look around like a wild cat, but unlike them, you twist your nose, skin on the bridge wrinkling when you spot huge chunks of meat on the counter, the mere sight is enough to send a shiver down your svelte spine, and simon is almost ready to be offended, if it weren't for your charm.

he is used to people who swallow lumps of pooling saliva in their mouths from the mere sight of meat, even if not cooked, raw pieces attract them, because they are addicted to them like drugs, the taste of human flesh changes their typical habits of taste, animal meat seems tasteless,not so soft and fibrous, forcing them to return again and again to simon, but you are nothing like them.

you reluctantly move closer to the glass case as he lets out a hoarse grunt, his still slightly bloody hand flexes to run through the air behind the spread out pieces of meat, and when his sanguine hand hit the periphery of your eyes, you cover your mouth with your palm and practically bend over in a broken line in disgust, muffling a gag that rises from your throat, eyes rolling up and fluttering to close briefly.

makes simon wonder what would you look like if he made you sit locked in the midst of freshly butchered bodies and one still covered in flesh, not so long ago some of them were breathing, and maybe even greeting you in the middle of the street, but now their fate is to be eaten, unlike yours, and the very concept of such a depiction should not make his cock fatten up in his loose pants with dull throbbing, but here he is.

when for once, simon allows himself to speak, a smoky wheezing of a british accent envelops you in a heap cloud, immediately turning your focus to meet his rugged mug, his voice a smug tone of purr, wondering what a skittish kitten like you has forgotten here, if you can't even look calmly at the meat in front of you, could you wandered here by chance, mistaking his butchery for a grocery store.

this is your chance to leave, fly off and never come back, bottomless pools of his eyes peering at you through pale eyelashes, gaze dancing with black mirth, eyeing every inch of you with hungry, sickening interest, but you don't notice the signs, fluttering your pretty eyelashes uncertainly as your faces get a little closer together, simon's head turning aside with curiosity.

his heavy, broad body leaning on beefy hands that hold onto the counter, sleeve adorned with different shaped skulls, swirling in black ink down to his wrist, suitable for his image, which you do not yet fully know, as you mumble that you've come for some nice cuts of meat to cook a dinner, and only his store was credible.

it's flattening, knowing that an innocent bird like you recognizes his developed talent, despite all your inner disgust, and simon doesn't mind taking you further in shop to show you what he thinks will definitely fit your request, but you shouldn't twitch too hard when he squeezes your thin neck in his wide hand, fingers press into the carotid artery with a fleeting stroke, before everything floats in front of your eyes, and finally dissolves, plunging you into a gentle, sleeping heap.

simon would keep you, he doesn't want to send you on a ferry of the same fate as corpses in his refrigeratered room, despite your alluring, appetizing shapes, the curves of which he can notice even under a layer of closed clothing, imagine how your fat would feel between his teeth, filling his luscious mouth with sweet blood, instead, he may well enjoy the fat of your pussy.

there's no reason to hurt you, instead, he'll leave you to explore his own sudden attraction, cock straining against his meaty thigh from just looking at your peaceful face, maybe you'll be obedient enough to not resist his curiosity, he'll even wash the blood off himself for you, ain't no point in making an already feisty kitten scared of him.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[gassydumbjocks]

Do it like a Macho

Joel finished putting on his favorite shirt to go out, and checked his chat again, he could hardly believe that he had agreed to go out with that guy his best friend had told him about, he had broken up with his ex months ago, and didn't seem to feel ready to take on another relationship, but, well, a date was better than staying depressed on his couch all afternoon eating junk food watching rom-coms.

He finished by adding his perfume, checking himself once again in the mirror, and sighing "Please dont be a jerk this time" he wished for his next date, when the bell ring got him out of trance.

He ran when he heard the doorbell, and to his great surprise, a tall boy, with a some-what tanned skin, clearly showing latino roots, beefy complexion, large muscles, showed out of his door. There was only one detail, the hunk boy was shirtless, only wearing some gym shorts, and if that wasnt enough, a slight stench was present almost immediately, making obvious it came from the big jock, Joel wrinkled his nose a little trying to be discreet.

"Ehh.. Hello, can I help you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, the jock frowned. "Are you Joel?" He limited himself to ask.

"Yes, uh, are you the boy with whom I had a dat..." his words were interrupted as the animal of a man simply proceed and grabbed him by his head, within a second, he had his head to remain below in one of his armpits, receiving directly that aroma he lingered before, making him cough on the manly scent.

"Shut up! Faggot!" Saul said with an expression of disgust, without any effort he grabbed Joel's shirt collar while he tried to gasp for some air "I don't go to dates with sissys like you! I only hang out with my bros" he told him furiously. "This should put some hair on that chest of yours" Not having time to react quickly, the stinky hunk let out a deep, nasty burp right in his face.

BOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRPPPPP!!!

"Now lets start... Real men don't cook, that's for the ladies" the jock said as he blew the remains of his burp towards the poor, scrawny nerd.

As Joel forcibly inhaled Saul's putrid smoke, his brain began to be penetrated by the stench, new memories being created that would replace everything that made Joel him, memories of his mother teaching him how to cook and take care of himself, became in memories of his mother cooking for him, his father and brothers.

"Ugh, God... That's disgusting" Joel swallowed the burp while trying not to vomit while gagging.

"Come on man, you have to get out the machismo inside you... Real men don't clean, we are made to be crude, and ought to be grotty" Saul raised a leg and squinted an eye, before grunting.

PPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTT!!!

After letting out a loud fart that rumbled through his shorts, with a quick maneuver Saul brought Joel closer to his butt, being greeted by the toxic smell emanating from it, Joel swore it would be enough to knock out an elephant, coughing violently.

Again, his mind felt blurred, his thoughts changing with more memories again, since he was a child, the nerdy boy had always been a clean freak, tidying his room and cooperating with his sisters to clean the whole house. now, for some reason he could only remember him and his brothers watching soccer games in their undies, dirty plates of food filling the kitchen sink, dirty clothes scattered throughout the all the house, the toilet bowl up and dirty.

"What's going on?" Joel said, now more dizzy and confused than ever, his nausea preventing him from reasoning clearly and making a superhuman effort not to smell that foul bomb.

"You're becoming a man, that's happening, you better brace your pathetic self, this is a damn combo" Saul warned, then his stomach growled fiercely, while a smirk appeared in his mouth.

"NO!" Joel pleaded, but it was too late, as his please were overshadowed by Saul bending down to be at his height, only to blurt out in his face "MAAAAN UUUUUUUPPP-UUURRRRRRP!!!!" He belched his words out, while forcing the weak gay boy to sniff the nauseating blast.

By that point Joel had already fallen to the ground, crying and suffocating, pleading that this was some kind of nightmare, Saul rolled his eyes and growled "What a fuckin baby, it's just a little man gas, what are you?! Uh? You're a guy, you should be proud... Real men always let the gas rip" he said. , before bending over again, putting his big ass in those smelly shorts scented with all those gases dangerously close to his face, to let one last fart finish his job, poor Joel just having a final view of the ass getting closer "NOOOOOO!!..."

PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTT!!!

...

"And he is right..." was the first thought that Joel had after the abrupt attack in that gas chamber "Men always let it rip... A Man loves to let it rip, its just a dude thing we have to assert our dominance" was what came out then of his lips, before Saul heard and turned to see him, and a huge smile of satisfaction formed on his face.

"Fuck yeah man, nothing like dropping a fat one with your bros for a good laugh, right? We guys should always think farts are funny, they're manly" he remarked.

And as if it was a cue, a growl in Joel's stomach began to growl and make him uncomfortable, he simply patted himself and raised his leg.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRTTTT!!!

"ahh, that felt good" he sighed and letted a dumb chuckle "i have to quit that chipotle next time" he said with a grin, and Saul hit his shoulder playfully.

"haha that's nothing bro, the burping contest we had on our boys' night was brutal, man, you can even belch out the alphabet like a maestro, eh? Show off those roars" Saul added with a huge smile.

"AHHH.. BEHHH... CEEHH.. DEEEHHH" His mind was blank now, a simple order like that was enough to control him and make the burps start to come out of him, even when he didn't feel the need to burp, he just wanted to show off with his bro... It is what real men do.

"That felt good" He said, with a stupid grin forming in his lips too.

"As it should be! You gotta take pride in your machismo, huh? Machote" He said before slapping hiss ass, causing a small but putrid fart to come out of his now plump ass, making both of them laugh. "damn yeah, bro, its fuckin great to be a man" Joel said and Saul nodded proudly.

With that putrid gas, Joel sealed his new persona, letting his old gay and scrawny being fly away in the form of that smelly fart, to become a dumber, grosser, sexist, loud, and obnoxious version of him, a real man, and a real macho.

Seconds later he got a text from his best friend, or his best bro, and read it "Broo, hurry up and bring your fuckin ass here, we gotta have a boys night and watch the game, bring the beer, haven't Saul picked you up yet?"

He smirked and responded "On our way brodah, don't nuke your room too soon, I want to breath some fresh air for the match" He joked and chuckled dumbly, as he squinted one eye and simply lifted his leg to rip a fat deep one before going out his place, fist bumping with Saul.

[euthymiya]

how to tame a fox — kamisato ayato

somehow, you manage to catch the menace that’s been nibbling away at the plants in your garden—it’s not exactly what you’d expect, however. and the culprit is determined to stick close to you, too

before you read: fem reader ; fox hybrid ayato ; sly and playful ayato and tired and grumpy reader ; banter ; reader as a garden ; reader sprays ayato with a hose

notes: ari and risu said he’d be a fox hybrid and i think they’re very right

Something has been eating at your garden—something cunning and clever. Your berries have dwindled, your vegetables are harvested before you have the chance, and your carefully kept little plants are a mess.

You think it’s bunnies at first, but bunnies are not smart enough to skillfully work around the netting you’ve set around each plant to keep them safe from trespassing paws.

Which begs the question—just what is so conniving enough to be so good at getting to your garden, and how on earth are you going to catch it?

You don’t have to ponder on the question for too long.

It’s dark when you open your door to wander into your backyard—the moon is full, and you’d like to appreciate the sky and the stars for a bit from the comfort of your own yard.

Until you notice the pair of eyes staring back at you, that is. You let out a piercing shriek, grabbing the first thing you can get a hold of. (It’s a hose—the same hose you use to water the plants that keep getting eaten against your wishes.)

“What in the gods names—” you gasp, jumping back as the creature—no, man flinches at your presence. “Who are you?” You hold up the hose like a threat, and his nose wrinkles in amusement.

“What are you doing here at this hour?” The man rises from where he’s knelt, and you notice the strawberries he’s picked, held in his hand.

And then you realize he’s not just a man—no, there’s two pairs of long, fluffy ears over his head and a bushy tail that waves around behind him. His eyes gleam with a sort of mischief you don’t like.

“What am I doing in my garden?” You ask incredulously, “the better question is what are you doing with my strawberries? Don’t you see the nets I’ve covered them with to keep animals away?”

“I’m not an animal,” he gasps offended, “and yes, these nets have caused quite the troublesome experience for me. My tail gets caught in them often.”

You spray him belligerently, earning a surprised grunt from him as he jumps back at the impact of the water, dropping the berries he’s collected.

“How dare you harvest my vegetables?” You ask in disbelief, “I’ve been trying to keep you away for weeks.”

“Hey,” he cries, “cut that out! I don’t appreciate my fur getting wet, you awful woman!”

“Awful?” You parrot, offended. “How am I awful when you’re the one eating my garden?”

“You have plenty of things,” he huffs as you finally stop spraying him, shaking the water out of his ears as he grumpily eyes his tail. “Sharing is a wonderful virtue to have, you know. Especially for poor, cold, young men like me.”

“You’re nothing but a scoundrel,” you correct, hands on your hips. “Now shoo! Off my property before I call someone to make you leave. And don’t let me catch you here again!”

You spray him one last time for good measure before turning to enter your home when you feel a presence behind you, making you whip around to see what it is. Sure enough, the tall, slender man with an awfully troublesome glint in his eyes is face to face with you, his ears twitching excitedly as he leans in to get a better look at your face.

You get a much better look at him now—pale blue hair and deep purple eyes, a small mole below the left corner of his lip, and, the most noticeable detail, his pale blue ears that are drenched with wet fur. He’s handsome, in an annoying sort of way.

You almost—almost—itch to scratch at his ears, but logic and reason tell you this is the same man who’s been stealing from your garden. Your hard earned plants that you cared for delicately and diligently. And he’s enjoyed the fruits of your labor without so much as a care.

You watch as his tail waves behind him, bushy and thick even with wet fur.

“It’s awfully cold out here tonight,” he murmurs with a pouty look, “and you’ve drenched my poor fur, too.”

“It’ll dry,” you say blandly.

He pouts further, tilting his head as he argues, “not before the cold air gets me sick and shivering. Perhaps I could spend the night in your warm home—”

“Absolutely not,” you cut him off, furiously planting your hands on your hips as you glare at him, “what makes you think I’ll be letting the very person who’s stolen from me into my home?”

“Stolen is a very harsh word,” he gasps, hand over his chest as though the accusation shocks him—maybe even mildly offends him. “I was borrowing the goods you’ll grow back eventually.”

“The season is almost over!” You says frustratedly.

“There’s always next year,” he hums, “it’s good to help those in need, you know.”

“I don’t even know you,” you try again, pursing your lips as you grow tired of the back and forth.

“I’m Ayato,” he beams. He seems almost proud of his problem solving skills. “There, now you do.”

“You don’t need me to help you,” your patience is wearing thin, and faintly, you realize he’s right. It is cold. You’d like to get inside as quickly as possible and warm up the prickling goosebumps along your skin. “You’ve made it this far just fine. Evidently.”

“But I have no one, you see,” he sniffles petulantly, “my parents have long passed and I’m just lonely and on my own. Nowhere to go,” he leans closer, pout deepening as he bats his lashes.

And, well…he’s sort of cute. Far too old to use the parent excuse, you want to scoff, but it’s a cute effort all the same. You realize he’s not going to leave you alone, either, so it’s best just to let him in for the night and promptly escort him off your premises in the morning.

Yes, that’s right, you think resolutely, this will only be until the morning.

“You can stay for the night and only just the night—”

“Marvelous!” He brightens, cutting you off. You realize a little too late you might making a huge mistake when he swiftly moves past you, walking through the door of your home and inviting himself in before you can properly allow him permission.

Sly as a fox, you think agitatedly. You should have realized that much from the get go.

When you walk into your home, he’s already looking around, touching this and that, humming in approval and disapproval as though he’s in any place to judge the arrangements of your home.

“Hm, yes, very nice,” he says dryly, eyeing your interior. Your eyes twitches. “I suppose it shall do.”

“I’m sure it’s infinitely better than the outdoors,” you scowl, “I would count my blessings, if I were you. And don’t get used to it—you’ll be leaving in the morning.”

He grins smoothly—like he knows something you don’t, like there’s mischief already brewing in that quick-thinking little brain of his.

“Won’t you be a dear and dry my fur?” He saunters back over to you, grabbing your hand and pulling it to his ears to guide your hand along the dampness of his coat. You gasp at the gesture slightly, stiffening under his touch as he pouts. “I hate wet fur, you know.”

“Surely, you can use a towel and dryer yourself,” you deadpan. “I’ll grab them for you—”

“Oh, but I wouldn’t want to break anything,” he insists. “Perhaps you should just do it for me.”

Well, his cunning little scheme is at least abundantly obvious this time, you think. So he craves a little affection, someone to handle the matter of grooming his fur for him. It’s a bit troublesome, but you suppose you can let it slide if it gets him to be quiet and leave you alone for the night.

“Fine,” you concede, sighing tiredly as he perks up at your response.

He follows you, silent, but evidently pleased as you gather a dry towel and the blow dryer before settling on the edge of hour bed.

To your surprise, he settles on the floor, tucking himself against your leg as his cheek rests on your thigh. You blink down at him.

“Go on then,” he hums, “I do like when it when I’m scratched behind my ears. And make sure you use the warmest setting there is, I don’t like the cold. And don’t hold it too close to my ears—I’m a bit sensitive to sound, you see.”

“Are you usually this demanding with all the people you steal from?” You snap, raising an unimpressed brow.

He grins, nuzzling against your thigh before he gives you a sweet, innocent look as he murmurs, “only the ones who keep me in their homes.”

Something tells you he’s not going anywhere, and something tells you that when morning comes, he’ll have yet another scheme to stay indoors—just like a sly, conniving fox would manage to. Oddly enough, when your fingers gently brush through the fur as you dry the dampness away with the warm air of the dryer, the way he nuzzles closer grows on you. Just a little.

You’ll still find a way to get him to leave you alone eventually—and your garden, too. Until then, though, perhaps you can allow yourself to scratch behind his ears just a few times.

Foxes are nocturnal so you know that was about to be a longgggg night

[oceantornadoo]

toxic but in love fwb!simon with some hurt/comfort

“i know your gala is important, si, but can’t you come? just this once i just want-“ you were wringing your hands, twisting them into unfamiliar shapes as you argued with simon, your situationship. you two were always like this, pushing and pulling at the boundaries of your relationship. moon and tide, destined to move each other but never close enough. “we’re not dating an’ i have a work thing. can’t come.” he shrugged nonchalantly, turning his head so he couldn’t see the pleading look on your face. instead, he pushed himself off your couch and reached for his jacket by the door. the silence in the air turned sour, some dark ugly thing created by him. his heart was a dead thing inside his chest, unable to muster a beat or two for you. he wanted to. a want so deep it ran in his blood, turning him cold. “fine. see you in six months or whatever.” your voice was stony, bitter. you reached for the tv remote and unpaused the show you two were watching, trying not to care about the sounds of him lacing his boots and grabbing his keys. you were done, done with this tug of war. you felt his stare drill through the side of your head as he put on his mask, the final bit to his ensemble. he might think that’s what got him named ghost, but it was really this, this act of playing human when he just didn’t care. he was a poltergeist in your life, knocking things out of order but refusing to show when it mattered. you were done.

one night later and here you were at your first art show, the debut of your career. dressed in your fanciest attire, second glass of champagne in your hand as you tried to network your way through the room. your feet ached from your shoes and there was an itch in your back you couldn’t quite reach, but you put on your best smile as another potential buyer went on and on about their summer in the hamptons. simon wasn’t here but it was fine. the tears you had been swallowing back for the past thirty minutes were just tears of joy at your accomplishments, nothing more. you thanked the buyer and turned the corner, finishing off your glass as you took a much needed break. suddenly a hush went over the crowd, a slight silence broken by a small quip. the room went back to normal but you went to check it out anyways, hoping it wasn’t someone making a bad comment about your work.

you arrived at the entrance and almost passed out at the sight before you. four men-no, machines, dressed in full military regalia stood in front of you. soap and gaz were already working the crowd while price was entertaining one of your donors, but your eyes were focused on ghost. ghost, who traded his balaclava for a more crowd-friendly medical mask, stood in front of you with a bouquet of carnations and a bottle of wine. you approached him slowly like you would a skittish animal, taking patient, methodical steps. “read carnations are for celebrations.” he said, almost sheepishly, as he mechanically thrust the bouquet towards you. you took it out of instinct, eyes still focused on his. “you came?” you said unbelievingly. simon was here, simon brought his friends, simon brought you gifts? he had to have been drugged or something. there was no way. “you called.” he answered, breaking out of his awkwardness. “‘m sorry for yesterday. knew i was coming, jus’ gave you a hard time. had to celebrate my girl’s first show.” your mouth dropped at that. my girl. “but…but we’re not dating?” you took a step forward, the rest of the room falling away as his gloved hand touched your cheek, brushing back the wrinkles on your forehead. “d’ya want to, lovie? was at this gala all night, thinkin’ bout how fun it would’ve been to have you there with me. makin’ fun of all those puffed up generals.” you let out a small chuckle and his back straightened, encouraged by the sound of your laughter. he loved the sounds of your laughter, your drunk giggles and your loud snorts. most especially he loved the sharp barks of surprise you made, the ones you gave when something or someone made you happy without expecting it. like now. “yes. if you’re sure.” the foggy emotions in your head were finally clearing, letting in the sun. his warm eyes caressed your face, pride evident in his face. “‘m sure.” he sealed it with a kiss to your forehead, not wanting to be unprofessional at your work event. simon felt something in his chest. maybe a heartbeat. maybe he had one after all.

—

thought of the “you came? you called” tiktok audio with this one. currently on my period so y’all will only be getting emotional stuff for the next couple of days 🫶

[kasagia]

Dancing with the devil III

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem! royal!reader Summary: You learn about your friend's terrifying future and promise yourself to somehow help her avoid her terrible fate. Na-Baron and you have a little... argument and a new, intriguing lord appears in society—a man who made a huge impression on you. Everyone is jealous. Warning: kind of royal au!; 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; smut; I listened to High Infidelity and new Gracies Abrams album while writing this one; quote from High Infidelity by Taylor; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART II ~•♤♤♤•~ PART IV ~•♤♤♤•~

"Even on Arrakis it's not that hot." You're grumbling, walking with your friend in a group of other ladies. You fan yourself with your white feather fan, trying to cool yourself down a bit, but Giedi Prime's black sun doesn't make it any easier for you.

"I don't know. I've never been there. Or anywhere. It's amazing how Harkonnens can go out all dressed in black and not have a single drop of sweat on their skin."

"Nothing about the Harkonnens is fascinating." You say as you reach the training field. You look for Lord Luwael, but you can't see your almost-fiance anywhere. But your eyes immediately fall on Feyd-Rautha.

It was irritating how quickly you recognised his bald head among the Harkonnens he surrounded himself with. The generals fought with him and each other, putting on quite a show for the ladies passing by. However, the real show began when Na-Baron started fighting with his older brother.

People began to gather, watching the sparring of the two heirs of the Harkonnen legacy. You flinched as Rabban let out an almost animalistic, warlike roar, just like your friend. You glanced in her direction and frowned, seeing her paling as their fight became more and more brutal.

"Y/F/N, are you alright?" Your friend opens her mouth to say something back at your question, but just then Lord Luwael appears next to you and steals all your attention.

"Brutes. They behave like animals. They have no sense of respect for human life and health. I don't want to spread rumours, but I heard that they mutilate... their wives and take pleasure in their pain. This is how they express their love. Sick nation."

You nod, watching the fighting display in front of you. You might think that the Rabban beast, as a scary brother more trained and familiar with fighting, would win against Na-Baron, but this is not the case. The men fight evenly until Count Rabban loses his guard in favour of stronger attacks.

Na-Baron takes advantage of this immediately. Just a few of his dodges are enough for Count Rabban to get irritated. He storms at his younger brother mindlessly, giving Na-Baron a chance to attack. He makes a few tactical moves that require more common sense than strength, and he stabs his brother in the shoulder. Rabban screams as he tries to wriggle out of his brother's blade, and Feyd helps him by kicking him in the back and sending him to his knees. You shiver as he glances at you briefly before turning his attention back to the fight with his brother.

The fight is in full swing when suddenly one of Count Rabban's daggers, instead of hitting his brother, hits one of the Harkonnen soldiers. The man is stabbed in the stomach, his insides spilling out from the sloppily inflicted wound.

It doesn't bother you. In fact, you don't react at all to this act of brutality except for wrinkling your nose as the smell of Harkonnen's black blood and entrails hits you. You feel a chill only when you catch Na-Baron's careful gaze on you.

And then, suddenly, your friend faints next to you at the sight of a dying man.

"Y/F/N!" You scream, catching her before she hits the ground. Lord Luwael helps you lay her down gently, and you fan her, pushing the man away from your unconscious friend as you try to provide her with more air and space.

You're too busy fanning your friend to notice how the crowd shifts its attention to the two of you. Even more so to notice one of the Harkonnens approaching you.

"Step aside." Rabban's voice reaches you as he tries to make his way through the crowd. He stands over you and your friend, watching you carefully before he speaks again. "I will take care of my fiancée." He tells you coldly, suggesting you leave. Your eyes widen as you realise who he's talking about. Your gaze shifts from your friend to the man next to you. Rabban was her fiancé. Poor Y/F/N.

"I am more than capable of taking care of my friend, Count Rabban. Besides, I doubt that the sight and smell of blood will help her recover." You tell him with an equally cold tone of voice, not moving away from your friend's side. You turn your gaze towards her, ignoring Rabban's furious look.

"I said..."

"Thank you for your concern, but I assure you she will be fine in a minute. Today's weather must have overwhelmed her." You interrupt him, giving him an equally determined look, not moving an inch from your spot or reacting to Harkonnen's obvious attempt to intimidate you.

The man moves furiously towards you, but before he can even lay a pinky finger on you, his wrist is caught in a tight grip by his younger brother. The men stared furiously at each other for several moments, challenging each other.

"Rabban. You heard Lady Y/N. Your help is not needed. You should go to a medic to have your wound treated." Na-Baron growls, never taking his stern glare off of him. And as much as you despise the Harkonnen heir, you can't deny that right now you're grateful to him for keeping his brother away from you and Y/F/N.

The older brother gives you one last hostile glare before pushing his brother's hand away from him. He retreats and walks away from you, barking at the crowd of onlookers to disperse.

Na-Baron kneels on the other side of your friend and lifts her a little higher into a sitting position. You notice that she actually starts to take deeper breaths due to the change in position. You sit there next to her for a few minutes before you muster up the courage to speak.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, little swan." He replies with a small smirk, showing you his array of black teeth. Which, surprisingly, bothers you much less than previously.

You stare at him for a moment, much longer than you would usually allow yourself, and he notices. You lean towards him and, for some reason you can't explain, reach up to wipe the blood from his cheek.

Feyd flinches as your gloved hand touches his skin. He curses the fact that the small, lacy material prevents him from feeling your skin against his.

And he decides to do something with it.

He turns his head, grabs your glove with his teeth, and removes the fabric from your hand. You shiver when you see him put the glove in his pocket before taking your hand in his.

He traces a streak of blood from one of his soldiers with your finger, collecting the blood on your finger. His full lips wrap around your finger, sucking out the black liquid. You bite your lip, feeling his tongue wrap around your fingers as he sucks on it like the most delicious candy. You hold your breath and close your eyes, breaking eye contact with him as you remember how wonderful that tongue felt inside your core.

You only dared to open your eyes when he left your finger alone, and you felt his full lips press against the skin of your hand.

And that was your undoing.

His white irises, under the influence of the Giedi Prime sun, gave way to his black pupils, which were staring at you all the time, like at a sacred image. However, you both knew very well that you were far from saintly. Just like him.

And just when Feyd thinks you're going to lean in to press your lips against his, to be the one to initiate the kiss for the first time, you suddenly pull away from him as if scalded.

Feyd furrows his hairless eyebrows, not knowing what's going on, but everything becomes clear when he hears the hated voice of Lord Luwael.

“I brought some water. And sobering salts from one of the ladies." The man says, walking over to the two of you. You give him a beautiful smile, and Feyd's heart shrinks with jealousy.

He instinctively wants to reach for his sword and plunge it straight into Lord Luwael's heart. But he can't do it because he knows that the moment he kills... the obstacle, Feyd will lose any chance of gaining your favour and heart. And all he wanted was for you to smile at him as beautifully (and more sincerely) as you would at that flea not worthy of your attention.

"Thank you, my lord." Feyd notices the difference in how you thank this man.

You're telling him this because it's appropriate, because it's polite of you. Not that you really needed his help, because Feyd was the first to calm you down and take care of your friend. It was Feyd who you thanked sincerely, not that toad in the emperor's crown.

"Na-Baron, it's... very noble of you to help in this situation." Lord Luwael says, and Feyd clenches his jaw slightly at the mockery in the man's voice.

"It's my duty to take care of my guests." Feyd replies in a neutral tone of voice, taking the salts from you and helping you wake up your friend.

"We won't disturb you anymore and distract you from… more important duties."

"Believe me, lord, I have no more important matters on my mind than this." Feyd replies firmly, not moving away from his place for an inch.

The men stared at each other for a long moment, giving each other deadly looks. You roll your eyes and try to quickly think of something to keep their attention. And quickly, before the pseudo-alpha male fight breaks out.

"Could one of you gentlemen help me carry her to her room? I believe she will be better off there than here." You ask, giving them a worried, pleading look.

"Of course, my lady." They both answered at the same time. They look at each other furiously for a moment, but Feyd wins the battle of speed and reflexes and grabs your friend in wedding style. You ignore the uncomfortable tickle in your chest and the lump in your throat and nod to Lord Luwael.

You and Na-Baron walk through the halls of the palace in silence. Without a word, he follows you into your friend's room and places her on her bed.

"Thank you." You say, expecting him to leave as soon as possible. But he has other plans for you.

"Do you really think you can be happy with him? Your little lord?" He asks you mockingly, leaning against the dresser and crossing his arms.

"My happiness is definitely not your concern." You reply furiously, not caring about titles, being polite, or anything else.

He had no right to question your decisions, decisions on which your entire future life depended. He didn't even know you! He had no right to judge what was better for you. And it definitely wasn't him.

"So you voluntarily force yourself to spend time with this weak little man? Why? Because maybe one day in the distant future he will become emperor?" He asks incredulously, laughing at your stupidity. You feel your anger bubble up inside you the longer you look at the bastard's smug face. And this time, you're not going to hold back or even pretend to be nice.

"He will become emperor. There are no ifs or maybes. He is the emperor's cousin and the first male descendant in his bloodline. As soon as Irulan's father dies, he will ascend to the throne. And I will become empress!" You speak with complete conviction and stomp your foot in anger at the last sentence, emphasising your rage.

"Is that all you want? Is that your ambition? Become an empress? Because I promise you, little swan, if your weak lord, fainting at the sight of the blood and fighting of REAL MEN, becomes emperor, I will gather my troops and overthrow him. What will you do then, little swan? Will you try to seduce me to keep the crown? Maybe then the idea of becoming my wife won't be so repulsive to you, hm? Maybe then you can allow yourself to fully enjoy my touch without running away from me every time I make you cum and scream my name? Maybe then you will realise that you belong only to me, and not to any Atreides or Luwael?"

You shiver as he presses you against the wall. He's so close to you that you feel his chest brush against yours with every fast, furious breath he takes. You glance at your friend, making sure she's still unaware of your conversation, and shift your gaze back to his icy-blue irises.

"That's not your damn business." You snap at him angrily, hoping you can stop yourself from punching him in the face, but it seems like a more and more difficult task with every second you talk to him. As well as refraining from silencing him by kissing those stupid, beautiful, tempting lips of his.

"It is my damn business. From that night in the garden, everything that's involving you is my damn business. And even earlier.

You are everything I want, everything I desire. I think day and night about that sweet pussy of yours, about how perfectly you would welcome me inside you, how beautiful you would look on the throne by my side. What about you, Y/N? How many times have you screamed my name into your pillow in the middle of the night? How many times have you wished that your fingers playing with that needy clit were mine? How many times have you imagined riding me on the emperor's throne?" He asks in that hoarse, sinful voice of his, sending an electric shiver right through you to your needy core. You shiver when he nuzzles against your temple, inhaling your scent. You close your eyes and sigh shakily as his hand goes to your neck, forcing you to look into his eyes. "How many times have you wished that I was your fiancé instead of Atreides?"

For a moment, you freeze, only able to look into his eyes as he hits your sweet spot with every question. Fortunately, the moment he leans in to capture your lips in a kiss, you push him away from you and take a few steps back. You take a few calming breaths and shoot him an angry, exasperated look.

"Let's make it perfectly clear." You say it firmly, taking a step closer to him with each sentence you say. "We are not engaged. We are not courting each other. We are not even friends or have the same group of friends. We have nothing in common with each other anymore besides that one mistake, so live your life and leave me alone. Just as you wanted."

You stare at each other for a few long moments, both of you breathing heavily with anger. His bright blue eyes are agitated. Like the ocean in a storm. You see how he clenches his fists, how the vein in his arm trembles, and for a moment you are tempted to cross the distance between you and the feeling of his hands on you.

But you couldn't.

He was a Harkonnen. Your mother would kill you for rejecting such an honourable suitor as Lord Luwael for… one of those bald brutes.

"Is that what you want?" He asks in that husky voice that should make you feel repulsed, but all you feel is a shiver of excitement as you remember all the things he whispered in your ear in the darkness of Giedi Prime.

"Yes. It is." You answer stubbornly, still sticking to your opinion. This will be best for you. You must focus on maintaining Lord Luwael by your side. Maybe later, when you're married, you can somehow have an affair with Feyd, and that way you'll keep him away from Irulan.

But one thing was certain: You will end this season as a wife. No matter what.

"Well then." He replies coldly and turns on his heel. He closes the door behind him with a loud bang, not even giving you a second glance.

You try to ignore the uncomfortable feeling in your chest and forget about this whole conversation. You didn't lose anything. You just got rid of an unwanted suitor. Right? Then why do you feel… so strange? Like doing something you shouldn't do…

"Y/N?" Your friend's voice interrupts your thoughts.

"Oh, thank God, you finally woke up." You say and sit on the edge of her bed. "Why didn't you tell me you were engaged to… to Rabban?" The girl tenses at your question. You see her become more nervous and start playing with the edge of the blanket in frustration.

"I... I hoped that since nobody knows it wasn't true. But... I..." She pauses, and your heart clenches when you see her on the verge of tears.

"Come here, my girl." You say and lean in to hug her tightly. She buries her head in the crook of your neck and shivers as she tries to calm down. "I promise you, I will get you out of this marriage."

"You can't. The Harkonnen took over my home planet. It was destroying my nation, family, or marriage between me and Rabban."

"Oh, my poor girl. There must be a way..."

"There is not!" She interrupts you furiously and pulls away from your embrace. Her eyes are red, and unshed tears remain in her eyes. "Not everyone has a life as perfect and beautiful as you, Y/N. But don't you dare judge me! Or pity me! I do it for my people, for my family. I... it's noble... and maybe this marriage won't be so bad after all..."

You look at her with great compassion. You reach over and place a hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture, but before you can say anything, there's a knock on the door.

Before you can speak, several Harkonnen servants enter. Most of them have some small crates and boxes that they put on the dresser.

"The Na-Baron sent us with this, my lady. We are here to ensure that the Giedi Prime sun will not pose a threat to your health, Lady Y/F/N."

Without knowing why, you feel a sudden wave of anger at their words. How dare he do such a thing? You try not to worry so much; you even tell yourself that your reaction is absurd, but your mood worsens even more when you see your friend's eyes become a little brighter and a genuine smile appear on her face.

You stare blankly at the maids leaving, wondering why the hell you are jealous of such a meaningless gesture from a man you don't even want.

"Na-Baron seems completely different from his brother. At least he's honorable. And he is not brutal towards his concubines. It is true that servants and soldiers die at his hands, but he only kills the incompetent ones. I feel like he's just doing it to preserve his reputation in his uncle's eyes. Oh. If only he could become my husband and not this... beast."

"Concubines?" You ask confusedly, not remembering seeing him with anyone else... not since then.

"Haven't you seen them? The whole society is talking about them. Lately, he seems to keep himself out of their company. It makes sense since he's looking for a wife, but still, they said that these women were created for his pleasure. They're kind of living robots. I don't know how much of this is true, and even if it were, Na-Baron seems to care about them."

You become even more mad, even though you shouldn't. You're almost engaged to Lord Luwael, and less than half an hour ago, you told Feyd that there would be nothing between you two and that you wanted him to leave you alone. If Y/F/N took care of Feyd, you wouldn't have to worry about Irulan marrying him. So why did you feel sick just thinking about this turn of events? Or that he has concubines?

You had no idea. And it bothered you greatly.

"Why didn't he propose?" Your mother asks you, preparing you for the last ball on Giedi Prime.

A week has passed since your last conversation with Na-Baron, and since then, you have only seen him from a distance on ceremonial occasions. As you wished, he left you alone. And you fucking hated it that his attention was taken away from you like that.

"I have no idea." You snap at her in frustration as she fixes your makeup.

During this week, you have been eagerly awaiting Lord Luwael's proposal. And it was a pointless wait. You smiled at him, flirted, tempted, and seduced him, and you did everything in your power to get him to pull himself together and propose. But he didn't. He didn't even come close to doing this once.

And honestly, you were fucking fed up with it.

You were tired of pretending to be his sweet little princess who needed a man to defend herself. You were tired of pretending to be disgusted by the violence, tired of agreeing with him, and constantly admiring things that didn't really matter. This week spent solely in Lord Luwael's presence has taken a toll on your psyche, and even more so was the fact that Feyr-fucking-Rautha Harkonnen was right. You toiled alongside Lord Luwael. But you'll be damned if you give up now and are left with no suitor.

Your mother lets you go to the ball alone while she busies herself with packing your things, or rather, drinking wine in your rooms and making sure the maids take everything you need with you. So you walk alone through the corridors of Giedi Prime and end up in the ballroom.

The Harkonnen palace is as empty to you as their entire planet. You can see enormous wealth in the city, but apart from that, there is absolutely nothing here. Not counting military bases, training rooms, and laboratories, of course. Emphasis on the development of the army and the economy. So you don't wonder why Na-Baron mainly shows interest in all kinds of weapons and bloodshed.

You look at the people around you, carefully observing the men and women flirting with each other. With a disturbing feeling of anger and jealousy, you notice Y/F/N dancing with Feyd. And as much as you shouldn't care, you want to go up to your friend and claw her eyes out when you notice how she makes Feyd laugh at something she says.

"An interesting couple, isn't it?" You tense as Irulan's voice echoes behind you. You nod at her and take the champagne from a passing servant.

"Rather unexpected. Besides, it won't last long. She is marrying his brother. And they don't match each other at all. You don't have to be jealous of your future fiancé, princess." You banter with her, sipping your champagne as you both watch the dancing couple intently.

At some point, Na-Baron's gaze falls on the two of you. And while Princess Irulan looks away, embarrassed, you raise an eyebrow at the man, giving him a defiant look. A small smile appears on his face before he turns his full attention back to your friend, and suddenly you need something much stronger than this champagne to survive this evening.

"Lady Y/N, I believe that of the two of us, I'm not the jealous one here." She says this with a mischievous smirk, watching you in your wordless exchange with Na-Baron.

You feel a shiver run down your spine at this little insinuation, afraid of what this viper could learn about the relationship between you and Na-Baron. After all, it wasn't like you two had your... encounters in private places.

The mere thought of being seen with Na-Baron in this compromising situation by none other than the witch you once considered your friend makes you lust for murder and bloodshed. You think you've spent way too much time on Giedi Prime.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, princess. I already have my lord and suitor, and I assure you, it is not Feyd-Rautha or any other Harkonnen."

"And yet, your finger is not adorned with a ring." She replies mockingly, with a cynical smile, staring at your fingers, which unfortunately are only decorated with your family's signet ring. You hide your hand in the fabric of your golden, sparkly dress and give her a forced smile.

"Matter of time."

"Probably."

"Definitely." You answer confidently and finish your champagne. The woman next to you chuckles and shakes her head.

"I hope you find what you are looking for. But it definitely won't be my cousin. Maybe Na-Baron? You always had a soft spot for him. As you can see, this childish infatuation is not one-sided and still burns wide."

This comment makes you clench your fists in anger. Irulan knew perfectly well what happened between Na-Baron and you. Or rather, what didn't happen but could have happened. However, you are no longer the naive girl you were a few years ago. You knew better. You've witnessed too many of his acts of cruelty and ruthlessness to continue to believe that somewhere inside him is still that boy from Lankivieil who charmed you. Or at least, that's what you thought until you met years later.

"I don't have to explain myself to you, but if you're that interested, I've never been more indifferent towards him than I am now." You say, not hiding the reproach and resentment in your voice or look.

"Interesting." She responds, unfazed by your gaze, as if she had nothing to reproach herself with. You smile and shake your head in disbelief. Of course. What else could you expect from her? Your eyes involuntarily land on your friend, who is having a drink with Feyd while they are laughing about something. "Lord Luwael! I believe you promised me a dance." Lord Luwael actually decided to finally show up at the party. He gives you an apologetic smile before taking Princess Irulan's hand and leading her to the dance floor.

You feel defeated when you are alone, against the wall. You close your eyes and sigh before going back to watching the rest of the people at the party. You try as hard as you can to swallow the unpleasant lump of jealousy, rage, and grief in your throat, but just when you think you've managed to calm down and tame your emotions, you feel a familiar presence next to you.

"Where's your prince charming?" Feyd's mocking voice makes your anger bubble up again. You turn your back on him and walk in the opposite direction, trying to get through the sea of people to get to the table with drinks. "Rude." He comments as he follows you.

He watches you carefully as you drink down the entire champagne in your glass in one gulp, grimacing as you do so. You refrain from making a snide comment, but his lips involuntarily twist into a malicious smirk.

"Fuck off." You growl, not even looking at him.

"You should speak to me more politely. Your lovely friend asked me to come over to you. You looked rather miserable, standing there all alone while your future emperor was having fun with a real princess."

"You know what? They say a lot of terrible, frightening things about you, and maybe some of them aren't true at all, but nothing—absolutely nothing—no fucking mask or artificial acts of politeness and kindness on your part can hide your nasty nature. Since I've been here, I've seen all sides of you, each of them riddled with rot and corruption. And yes, I'm a naive idiot who deserves sympathy, but only because I truly believed you could be something more than a Harkonnen. And I may not be a good person, but I'm not as rotten to the core as you are. I'd rather die than ever have anything to do with you. Have a pleasant evening with your concubines, my lord." You growl, pushing past him as he continues to look at you in shock.

He's calling after you, but you walk quickly through the crowd of people, wanting to get away from him and everyone in the room as quickly as possible. You put your hand over your mouth and run out into the hall, looking for a place where you can cry freely.

Without paying much attention to where you're going, you land on one of the balconies. You gasp, seeing the man there, leaning against the railings and staring at the dark Giedi Prime night sky.

You want to get out of there as quickly as possible, but you accidentally hit a glass decoration on the wall, causing it to shatter into pieces on the floor. The man quickly turns around in alarm and sighs, relaxing when he sees that there wasn't any... attack or threat to his life.

"My apologises. I thought I'd find some solitude here." You reply shakily, unable to control your voice yet. But the man doesn't seem to care. You shiver as you meet his gaze as he carefully examines you for any injuries. He carefully avoids the broken glass and sweeps it aside as he walks closer to you.

"That's all right. You can stay here if you want. Well… maybe not on these pieces of glass. I myself am looking for a bit of peace in this… lively place. Are you alright? You didn't hurt yourself?" He asks, and you quickly nod your head. You take a few breaths and run a hand through your hair, brushing any stray strands of hair from your eyes.

When you look at him, you have the irresistible impression that you know him from somewhere. But you can't remember meeting this man or even understand why he seems oddly familiar to you. In a good way. 

"Excuse me, have we met before?" You can't help but ask him about it. It seems downright strange that you don't know him when you feel… strangely drawn to him. Because how could you forget a man with such white hair and the piercing look in his black irises?

"I highly doubt it. Michael." He replies, shaking your hand with a mysterious smirk. You tentatively reach for his hand, as dark as his irises. Or at least one of them. The second one was white. You shiver as he returns his full attention to you, his two-toned eyes practically hypnotising you.

"Just Michael?"

"Only Michael. And you? Mysterious star?" You can't help but laugh. Genuine laughter, which has turned out to be a great rarity for you lately. He smiles, showing you his array of white teeth.

"Y/N. And before you laugh at me, my lord, my mother told me to put this on. I had no right to object." You say, pointing to your golden dress that reflected the light coming from the corridor of the Harkonnen stronghold.

"Oh yeah. Mothers and their regime. Believe me, I have a similar one myself. It's hard to say no without fear of being disinherited, right?"

"Yes. Definitely." You say, unable to stop smiling. Something about his presence seemed calming, even ethereal. Just a moment of conversation with him was enough for you to completely forget about the ball and everything that happened a few minutes ago. Talking with him and being in his presence brought you unexpected, strange relief. "So what are you hiding from? Crazy mother? You didn't wear the suit she wanted?"

"Let's say. I'm not really… familiar with the surroundings and people here. I've just arrived yesterday."

"Yesterday? But soon the nobles are leaving Giedi Prime. Why did you arrive at the very end of this event?"

"Most of them. Some stay for a few more days due to political matters. This is the reason why I am here."

"So you're not looking for a wife?" You ask, slightly teasingly. He chuckles at your remark and shakes his head.

"Not necessarily. At least now. I want to achieve something first." This answer makes your opinion of him grow even more.

He was absolutely perfect. Starting with appearance and ending with personality. Or at least that's what he appeared to be doing. You need to find out more about him. Hook your claws into it. If not the heir to the Emperor's throne, perhaps an ambitious, power-hungry man would be enough for you to reach for it with him. But first, you had to find out more about him—for example, what family he came from.

"An ambitious man with a plan. Beware of mothers; they will tear you to pieces for their daughters. Especially Lady Whistledown, if she finds out about you and decides to put you on the front page of her gossip rags. A mysterious man named Michael is the new, most desired suitor of this season."

"The first woman who doesn't like these rumours—did she tarnish your reputation, or are you just above the high society and their ridiculous sensations to care about things they care about?"

"If I told you, you wouldn't want to talk to me anymore." You whisper conspiratorially, making him laugh.

"Are you flirting with me?"

"Possible. Care to join?" You ask teasingly and shake his hand. He raises an eyebrow at you and licks his lips. His bi-colour irises stare intently at you as he considers your offer.

"Are you asking me to dance?" He replies with an equally mischievous smirk, responding positively to your flirtatious teasing.

"Feeling offended? Should I wait until you ask me, so I can politely smile and bow, my lord? Maybe even blush?"

The man in front of you laughs. He adjusts the necklace around your neck, gently brushing his fingertips against your skin. A shiver runs down your spine as you feel his electric touch on you.

"I like your current attitude better. If you care about it…"

"Well then." You mumble as he suddenly grabs your hand and presses a kiss on it. You shiver, feeling his lips through the diamond mesh that was supposed to be a replacement for your gloves.

"I'm very curious if you dance as gracefully as you destroy things in this palace." He says, casting a pointed glance at the pieces of glass on the floor beneath your feet. You give him a mock-offended look, at which he chuckles. You find his laughter quite pleasant.

He leads you to the ballroom floor. You mingle with the crowd without drawing too much attention to yourselves. And even though you had written this evening off as a waste a few hours ago, thanks to Michael, it became... very nice. And pleasant. Refreshing.

You laugh heartily, and you feel butterflies in your stomach every time he leans towards you. You're completely enchanted by him, like a stupid teenager in love. You ignore the looks the people around you give you. For example, the stern look in your mother's eyes, the surprise in Irulan and Y/F/N's eyes, or the jealousy that Lord Luwael tries to hide when talking to Irulan. One particular pair of blue irises never leaves your side. But you don't care.

All you see is black and white—the irises of your evening companion. Surprisingly enough, you don't have to pretend to be either a damsel in distress or a strong woman who doesn't need anyone. You can be yourself. And as strange as it is, it's so nice to let go of control and vigilance sometimes. Even though the voice in the back of your head and your intuition tell you that you shouldn't break down the steel walls of your defences.

You don't even care about the whispers and rumours that spread about you in the ballroom—about your high infidelity and instability of feelings when people comment on how you rejected Lord Luwael's advances and jumped into another man's arms. You dance around with this charming man, not worrying that you just lost two potential suitors. All that mattered was that Michael made you feel like he had brought you back to life.

And you decided to remain blissfully unaware tonight and deal with the storm you had unleashed some other time. Tonight, your only activity was counting the constellations in Lord Michael's eyes, revelling in his scent and presence.

Meanwhile, Na-Baron leaves the party earlier than he should. With his hands gripped tightly around the handles of his blades.

However, this night proves something to you—something that you learned and experienced on your own skin a long time ago and Na-Baron learned tonight.

There's many different ways that you can kill the one you love, and the slowest way is never loving them enough.

Feyd's heart beats madly as he crosses the familiar halls of Giedi Prime. He avoids any guards or any living soul who might acknowledge his presence in the guest quarters. He slips silently into a specific chamber, careful not to make any sound.

He looks around the room and silently rummages through open crates, suitcases, and objects that have not yet been packed by the servants. He smiles to himself as a small vial with a familiar scent finally falls into his hands.

The poison that killed his harpies.

He turns around slowly, letting his eyes land on your sleeping figure. He silently approaches your bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he tries hard to sharpen his vision in the darkness of the room to get a good look at your facial features.

You sleep so peacefully in your bed. Feyd is downright unaccustomed to seeing you… not annoyed or insanely angry at him. In your relaxed state, you look almost like an angel.

And Feyd finds himself wanting to lie down behind you, take you in his arms, and just bury his nose in your hair, inhaling your sweet scent while he falls asleep. Which he thinks is absurd, considering that a few hours ago he found out that his darlings died of poisoning. 

He should be mad at you. He should slit your throat right now, choke you, break all your bones, rip out all your muscles, and take your heart, which was as festering and selfish as his, especially after all the insults you said to him.

He takes the dagger with practiced ease. He presses the tip of it against your neck, gentle enough that you don't feel it in your sleep but close enough to feel the tip of the blade against your skin. He breathes heavily, staring at your sleeping figure. His anger rises as he thinks about how you danced with this new, strange man a few hours ago. How you smiled at him, how you flirted with him, how you ran your hands over his muscular arms and chest, how you brazenly did things that you should have done with no one else but Feyd.

And when he raises the dagger to swing and cut the skin of your delicate neck, he hesitates. Keeps steel in the air longer than necessary. Feyd closes his eyes, makes a fist, and bites it as he swings.

A strand of your hair falls onto your pillow. Feyd leans down and gathers the hair he cut off, wraps it in your shawl, and puts it on his nose. He inhales the delicate floral scent of your perfume, allowing himself a moment of weakness. He hides the dagger and his prized possessions in his pocket.

And just as he turns to leave, to accept that you will always see him as a monster, something in your jewellery box catches his attention.

He walks over to her and tenderly reaches for his old Lord of Lankiveil ring. He remembers many years ago when his uncle told him to throw away all the mementos from his old house. He kept two things. The ring and the shell that the oceans of his planet often washed ashore. He gave both of these things to you. For safekeeping.

He frowns, searching for a shell in your glass. He sighs in frustration when he can't find it. He furrows his hairless eyebrows and puts his old ring back in its place, wondering what you did with that little shell.

This discovery gives him the courage to approach your bed again. He lightly strokes your cheek with his fingertips, wondering if the fact that you kept the ring means that he wasn't as lost in the game for your hand as he thought.

But he still can't get the words you told him earlier out of his head—how much you hurt him today. And not only today. He sighs quietly, not knowing what to do. Just as he's about to remove his hand from your cheek, you roll over and nuzzle your face in his hand. Feyd's heart stops at this small gesture. He feels the warmth radiating from you as you press your cheek into his hand. His heart flutters, and his mouth goes dry at the contact as you instinctively reach for him.

And this somehow gives him hope that your anger, disgust, and resentment towards him may not have been as sincere and passionate as they seemed. He just had to approach you in the right way. And he knew exactly what he had to do next time to make sure you weren't just glaring madly at him across the ballroom or killing the women he was close to in your acts of jealousy.

He wanted all of your passionate anger directed at him. Not at any other women. And then he will do everything in his power to ensure that your quarrel goes the way he wants it to go—with you under him... or on top of him.

Either way, he will make you his. He will make you look at him the way you used to, the way now you look at those idiots you meet. And this time, nothing will stop him. Even you.

Dearest, gentle readers…

This author is completely disappointed with the lack of exciting news from Giedi Prime.

This author's curiosity has not been satisfied to any extent, and although we have learned more about the Na-Baron, his customs, his fighting skills, his dealings with his servants, and the concubines who are his constant companions in the dark nights of Giedi Prime, this author is hungry for more.

Those who have ears and eyes will probably not be surprised that Lady Y/F/N was promised to Count Rabban in marriage, which is to reconcile the countries at war. But those who are able to observe more may notice that this lady had a much better time with Harkonnen's younger brother than with her fiancé. Could it be that the brothers need to learn how to share their new bride-to-be? Or maybe this is not such a strange situation for them, considering how light and free the inhabitants of Giedi Prime are towards intimate matters. Let's not even mention the possible arranged marriage between Princess Irulan and the infamous Na-Baron.

This author, as closely as watched the affairs of the Harkonens, is watching what is happening between Lady Y/N and Lord Luwael. The young heiress of the family decided not to wait for the young lord to ask her such an important question for every woman and decided to move on with her search for a husband.

Surprisingly, Lady Y/N's attention was taken over by a certain Duke. Mchael Sahohton. And although the young Duke is not first in line to succeed to the Emperor's throne, his influence and ambition are so great that he can be considered a pretender to the throne more than Lord Luwael ever could ever be.

Is it a calculated move that Lady Y/N goes from one heir to the emperor's throne to another? Probably. Can we blame her? Of course not. After all, in the pursuit of a good match, a woman will do anything to end up with the best man possible. However, this young woman must remember to maintain her good, clean reputation in all this, which is extremely difficult to do when you have such an exciting and tempting goal in front of you.

Only one question remains: Which of these gentlemen is the diamond of this season? Which one is the most worthy of attention and pursuit by ladies

This author will try to answer this question, eagerly waiting for the continuation of this season, on the Kaitain - the homeland of the house Corrino and the breeding ground of the Bene Gesserit.

Taglist for Feyd: @avidreader73

Taglist for DWTD: @iloved1lfs0 @heartarianagran @hueanhdang @barnes70stark

[toxicanonymity]

he's only human

1.1k, raider!joel x f!reader, OC Carter x himself

kinktober-ish special? mild voyeurism w/ a seasonal flare 🎃 Raider Master | About Raider Carter SUMMARY: PWP with inner conflict. Joel POV as he goes down on you, then Joel's right-hand man Carter hears/sees a glimpse of you and Joel for the nth time and has intrusive thots when he jacks off.  A/N: Overlaps with the end of ✨ hunger, starts with Joel POV and shifts to Carter POV. This one goes out to @romanarose, charter member of the Carter fan club - feels like so long ago lmao. @toxicfics for notifications. WARNINGS: oral f receiving (from Joel), brief p in V (Joel), mild voyeurism then jacking off (Carter), mild angst - intrusive thots.

Joel’s had his head between your legs before, but not like this. Not intentionally, not because he craved it.  Not for his pleasure or yours. Not with his hand wrapped around his cock. God damn, it’s paradise, he’s like a starved animal.  You taste like home.  He’s dreamed about it– in a cozy log cabin, he had you laid out on a sheepskin rug by a fireplace and just devoured you without a care in the world. Then he woke up and remembered not to be that happy.  Now that he’s let himself have this, he can’t physically get enough.

He opens his mouth wide, tonguing you hard, mapping and claiming every crevasse of you, thirstily taking every drop of you he can find, nosing your clit, kissing it, sucking, thumbing it as his tongue gathers slick from your entrance again and he palms your breast. There’s nothing else in the world right now. His world is between your thighs.

“Joel,” you whimper. His cock twitches dangerously close to climax and he stops moving his hand. 

“I want it,” you beg. God damn, it’s the prettiest sound. 

Joel pries his mouth off your cunt and catches his breath. 

—Carter—-

Carter comes up the hill and sees the fire roaring with two big pots of water. The dog growls quietly at him, but quickly goes back to working on — is that a duck head?  Carter walks up to the fire and peeks into the pots—hot damn, a duck in each. As he approaches the trailer door, he’s probably a little quieter than he needs to be.  He hears you and Joel both moaning.  Joel’s moans are muffled, and yours are unrestrained. Carter’s cock twitches when he realizes what Joel’s doing. Blood rises to his cheeks and he swallows, but doesn’t walk away just yet. 

“Ain’t done,” Joel growls and Carter’s heart jumps, thinking Joel’s addressing him. It wouldn’t be the first time Joel kept going with Carter right there. Certainly not the first time in earshot. But the first time doing this. Carter could look if he wanted to right now, but he doesn’t, not even when you completely unravel as you moan Joel’s name. He can picture you writhing in bliss, even if he doesn’t want to. 

Shit. Carter adjusts himself.  He should go. As he turns to leave, it’s a quick, involuntary glance he takes. A split second but it sears the backs of his eyelids.  Your spine is arched, nipples jutting toward the ceiling as Joel pushes his length into you. Carter’s heart races and he doesn’t linger. As he begins to walk away, Joel sighs, “ohhh, fuck.”

Carter’s quickly gotten hard, too hard. This is too much, it’s not gonna go away. He shouldn’t let himself get like this, too easy to turn on. He hasn’t relieved himself in too long. The old magazines are so faded and wrinkled by now, they just remind him of the outbreak. He thinks about how all the models are probably dead, the men and the women. His mind sometimes drifts to you, he can’t help it.

Alright, he’s got to do this quick. The woods, the edge of the woods. Like he’s just taking a leak. Carter palms his hard cock over his pants on his way to the forest. This damn dog better not snitch on him after Carter kept his mouth shut earlier. 

When he reaches the woods, he urgently undoes his pants, takes his cock out of his boxers, and spits in his hand. He sighs when he wraps his hand around it.  He tries with all his might to pry his thoughts away from what he saw, but he keeps coming back to different scenes of you and Joel. He really can’t really help it, it’s the only sexual content he’s seen in years that doesn’t depress him, and Joel isn’t shy about it at all. He knows Carter would never do anything. If Joel knew some of Carter’s thoughts, though. . . 

He tries to think about an ex-girlfriend, but he thinks of you in Joel’s lap. He thinks about the last girl who sucked him off, but he feels ashamed, he shouldn’t have let her, she was desperate. He thinks about you in Joel's lap again. Carter thinks about you in his own lap—no, fuck no, he squints his eyes shut and shakes his head trying to force the thought away. He thinks about Halle Berry in James Bond, she wasJoel's favorite Bond girl too.  Carter thinks about you writhing under Joel right now–NO! 

He thinks about the goddamn preview of Jessica Biel in the Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2003, with her low rise jeans and tank top that never got to grace the big screen--he's tried to construct this movie from scratch in his mind on long treks. He thinks about Jessica Biel cresting the hill begging him for help, nipples poking through that tank top, raising his rifle, looking for Leatherface, Jessica Biel's jeans riding so low, but somehow still hugging her body. Then he thinks about your body, and Joel grabbing your ass, and god damn it, he tries to think about nothing at all. 

He focuses on his cock. He spits on it again. His eyes follow the veins as his hand glides along his light tan shaft. He’s blessed, he knows it.  He moves his hand faster, cups his balls with the other hand. He pumps his stiff shaft, closing his fist over the pink head. It's a nice dick. Maybe he’ll have someone to give it to one day. He thumbs the precum at his tip.

He thinks about you sitting on Joel’s cock in the van that day you ran, only a foot away, the way the sex smelled, he pictures Jessica Biel cresting the hill again for a split second then remembers Joel is splitting you open on the table right now, just right over there, he can still see it, he can hear it, and you’re probably falling apart right about now–oh shit–no, fuck, uughhhhhhghhh—his cock begins to pulse. He angles it onto the leaves in front of him. “Ahhhhhh,” he sighs as quietly as he can as he empties himself.  He feels a rush of guilt. 

He can so vividly picture the barrel of Joel’s gun right between his eyes right now. More vividly than what he just saw in real life. Carter would never, ever do anything. Honest to God, he doesn’t want to, he really doesn’t. It’s just that he’s only human, and you’re there, and sometimes it feels like Joel can’t go even a few minutes without touching you in places that shouldn’t cross Carter’s mind–your thighs, your ass. Joel makes sure everyone sees you’re his, and sometimes that just. .. .does something.

You are Joel’s. Carter loves you and Joel together even if you make Joel a little crazy, even if it’s caused more friendly fire than Carter ever thought he’d clean up. You make Joel a little crazy, but you also make him a little better. You’re Joel’s, that’s how it should be.  But you’re also a pretty girl, who makes pretty sounds, and that’s hard to ignore sometimes. 

-------

Thank you so much for reading! I was writing the next part of raider with a brief turn in Carter POV and my fingers slipped.

[darth-kote]

Fox Headcanons Pt. 1

Despises 79s. Not because of the noise and countless bodies, but because there's always so much going on that he finds it difficult to properly relax. He's hard-wired to keep Coruscant safe from threats, and it only heightens in a dark, loud place full of plastoid and spirits. Of course, if Wolffe happens to be on shore leave and invites him for a rare night out, he'll accept. But don't expect him to have more than two drinks the entire night - or for that rigid posture to loosen up while he's there. He saves that for later when he can finally, finally take his armor off and slip into his bunk. If he could have it his way, he'd have Wolffe over for a long nap and a few hushed laughs before one or both of them has to return to duty.

He's a certified overthinker. Like almost to the point it could be labeled obsessive-compulsive if he ever talked to Nala Se about it. He knows it would probably qualify him for "retirement." He understands it's not the norm for most of his brothers, and he's actually very grateful they don't have to experience the nagging intrusive thoughts he seems to battle with often. He checks on his brothers when the sudden creeping feeling that one of them might be hurt arises, he routinely asks about the condition of The Chancellor's wellbeing if he happens to be further from him than usual, and he craves symmetry and order almost to a haunting degree. He once spent an hour staring at his own bucket to make sure the red strokes of paint were just right.

It's safe to say this man cannot stand a lack of control. This piggybacks off the prev point; it drives him up the wall not knowing what is going on at all times. He asks for check-ins from his men every quarter hour, works longer hours than even a Kaminoan would recommend, and has no idea what to do when he's given time off. He doesn't know what it means to unwind. His muscles are constantly wound tight like a snake prepared to strike, and he often grinds his teeth without thinking. The headaches he gets would be unbearable if it weren't for his medics dutifully looking out for the commander.

He secretly feels anxious when he hears whispers from Senators, Jedi, or his brothers about the work some politicians are doing to set up a plan for the Clones after the war. He doesn't know what else he is other than a soldier. He's too high-strung to go off and be a gardener or a tattoo artist like he's heard some brothers talk about. One day Stone makes a quip that he'd be a good zoologist, and he admittedly finds himself daydreaming about working with nonjudgmental animals instead of people who did nothing other than cast judgment. Coruscant certainly wouldn't work for that, which drives another unpleasant nail of fear into his heart. He'll have to work through plenty of knots surrounding his attachments if he is to ever let himself leave. For now, he's satisfied to dream about it when he gets a quiet moment in his bunk.

For all the Clones, their bunk is practically the only private space they have. Fox's quarters, though some might expect them to be ship-shape and spotless, is decorated in a way that can only be described as his. Weapon leaflets are kept on a board near the door, just above a small desk cluttered with a mixture of endless paperwork and small seedlings given to him by Senator Chuchi after he'd escorted her on a particularly daring mission. She claimed they'd grow into vitamin-rich leafy greens he could ingest. His armor is always kept neatly if it isn't on him, prepared to be worn at a moment's notice. His bed, of course, is the safest, most private spot in his quarters. Some would describe it as a mess, and if he ever heard whispers of a routine check for contraband, he'd straighten out the sheets and ensure no wrinkles could be seen; he had no desire to be perceived as a slob. Most of the time, he prefers to have the blankets fluffed up around him; there's something so gratifying about being surrounded by softness and the comforting smells of himself and the people he treasures most. He has a favorite cloth he nuzzles close to when particularly stressed, which had been given to him by Alpha before he'd left for Coruscant. The scent is faded and weak, but what's left of it combined with the texture is enough to help him drift into unconsciousness.

[neoarchipelago]

And they were Roommates (part 13)

A/N: YOU GUYS ARE UNHINGED this tag list is endless!!!! also i recieved my first tips and full on cried for like 3 hours!!! you guys are absolutely amazing!! here's more spicy shit

Warnings: 18+ MINORS GO AWAY? SPICEY SHIT ADULT CONTENT SEX (f!reader) talk of abuse, death

You woke up wrapped in sheets and you  recognized them perfectly. You were sore. You looked around the room. The perfect room. Your room. You sighed. It promised something you were slightly scared of. You wanted to close your eyes but the sound that had woken you up brought you back to reality. 

Simon yelling. 

You threw away the covers, standing up. Perhaps trying to stand up was a better definition of your action. Your shaky legs made you sit back on the bed, taking a few seconds before finally standing. Once up you stretched a bit. You looked into your mirror noticing the little bruises and bites on your body, flashbacks of the night clouding your mind. 

You shook your head a bit, the yelling from downstairs making your anxiousness spike. You grabbed a baggy shirt and some panties. You noticed you had been cleaned, the idea making you blush. But you blushed even more, noticing that even cleaned up, you were still wet, probably a mix of you and him. You got dressed before going straight for the door. 

When you opened it the sound grew louder. You glanced back at your clock, 7 am before darting down the hallway towards the stairs. You walked down slowly, your legs warning you not to tempt anything too crazy. The voice got clearer each step. 

"SERGENT YOU HAD ONE MISSION AND YOU DELIBERATELY FAILED IT." 

Fuck. He was angry. And the boys were catching the fire you started. 

"Lieutenant-" 

"I'LL TAKE CARE OF YOU PERSONALLY KONIG." 

No! You hurried the last few stairs, jumping a bit through the hallway, finally stepping into the living room. 

Everyone was silent as they turned to you. The boys stood on guard in front of Ghost who had his mask on and was wearing his usual training gear. You guessed he had gone off to run or train and came back still furious. You crossed your arms over your chest looking at him angrily too. 

"Shit.. now they're both angry…" soap mumbled, with what he thought was a voice low enough not to be heard. 

He was greeted with a death glare from Ghost. You had to do something before he kept tearing into them. 

"Boys." They looked at you as if on command. "Please leave us." 

The boys hurried out Ghost looking even more furious but this time at you. Konig slowed down as he passed by you and you threw him a sorry look. To your surprise his eyes wrinkled with a smile.

Once the boys were finally out, the front door closed and you looked at him. 

"You are commanding my men now?" He questioned walking his way to the kitchen. 

"Good morning. I slept well. I'm feeling good, albeit a bit sore but I'm sure you understand why-" 

"Stop." 

His tone was cold. You sighed. 

"Simon…" 

He kept his back turned to you. 

"Simon. If you don't look at me. If we are not having this conversation. I'm leaving you to eat your brain out." You warned. 

He turned slowly, head towards the ceiling before chuckling. The sound brought back even more memories that made you shiver. 

"That's a low threat bunny." His voice was raspy, laced with something you were familiar with yet estranged from. 

You slowly walked towards him as he did as well, step met step. 

"It's not their fault. I went to find you." 

"They're trained soldiers. Konig tricked me into letting you in." 

"He made you open the door. You. Let me in." You smirked.

"Don't make me take that confidence off of your pretty face." 

"Is that a promise… lieutenant ?" You questioned, hands behind your back, feigning innocence.

"You shouldn't have been there. It shouldn't have happened." 

That. Hurt a bit. It must have seen it in your face because he closed the space in very few steps. 

"This. Was not the first time you deserved. Me fucking you senseless like a fucking animal." 

You blushed. 

"Repeatedly fucking into you in my bed…" he got closer, the anger and desire mixing together. "In front of my mirror." His arms wrapped around your waist pulling flushed against him. "Against my door for my men to hear you scream that you were going to cum for me." 

"S-simon.." 

"No." 

You closed your eyes. He had not fully come out of his high. You guessed his anger didn't help.

"Ghost. Nothing that happened yesterday was your fault. I came.." 

He groaned at that, making you giggle. 

"No pun intended but fact shared. Willingly. We had a safeword. I knew what we were getting into. And I'm fine. Please." 

He took a few deep breaths before you finally felt his thumbs drawing circles on your lower back. 

"How are you feeling?" He asked. 

You giggles, getting on your tiptoes to drop a kiss on his clothed lips. 

"I'm fine! It was intense… but amazing." 

You bit your lip, one of his hands lifting up his mask to kiss you deeply. You moaned against his lips, warmth spreading through you. 

"S-simon…" 

You tried in between kisses. He groaned in response. 

"Are you… still?" 

He hummed in agreement. You felt his cock twitch through his pants. You separated, eyes drowning in his. 

"It's… still a bit there. But much less. I can… control it now." 

You smiled at him. 

"Good. I… have to go to the pharmacy…" 

You blushed looking away. 

"What? Are you? Did I hurt you? Fuck-" 

"No no! It's..no. Simon." 

He was fully alert, attention glued to your every word as your cheeks felt warm. 

"We… there was… no condoms…" 

He blinked once. Twice. Before he finally understood. 

"Shit… I remember… fuck. You tried to warn me and I.." 

He closed his eyes in frustration and you felt your inner brat awaken. 

"And you… fucked it right back into me…" his eyes flashed open as you slowly got closer to his lips "you even made sure… to cum again… deep insi-" 

He captured your lips again, tongue twisting with yours. He pulled you up, sitting you on the living room table. You grind into him, trapping him in between his legs. Your mind kept screaming to go to the fucking pharmacy, I mean… What was wrong with the both of you?

"Hey! Not in the living room!!!" Soap's voice echoed.

"And not on the table guys!" Gaz added. 

You separated, turning your head, watching the three boys, mostly two as Konig tried to hide, looking through the window. 

You were embarrassed by the situation but thankful things stopped there. 

"Get ready for training!" Ghost called to them as they scurried off. 

You smiled at him, pulling his mask down. 

"I'll go to the pharmacy… I need the morning pill and I'll grab… a box of condoms." You ended up sending a wink his way as you pushed past him to walk away. He grabbed your arm making you look at him. 

"Two." 

Your eyes widened as he chuckled walking past you.

You took a deep breath as he disappeared in the hallway, the sound of the front door closing a few seconds later. You decided to eat breakfast before getting ready to go out. At least you didn't need babysitters anymore.

You weren't exactly fond of waking up early. You had passed at the pharmacy, taken the pill immediately with some water and bought the boxes of condoms. It had been embarrassing to ask the pharmacist for… 'bigger' condoms. The look he gave you, or especially your chest made you frustrated before you realized he was looking at the dog tags around your neck. He visibly paled before asking you if you needed anything, that you could ask for his help at any time. 

It made you smile. Even his dog tags created fear in people. You had decided to go shopping afterwards, it was something that made you relax, plastic therapy. Your phone had rang around 11, Melissa calling you to invite you to lunch with her and Amy and you had happily agreed. 

You had met at a restaurant, the little girl jumping into your arms as soon as she saw you. 

"Hey honey!" 

She giggled as you planted a kiss on her cheek. You looked at Melissa as she smiled at you. You could feel something off. 

"Hey darling, are you ok?" 

She nodded, looking at Amy. You understood immediately that it wasn't something she wanted to talk about in front of the child. You nodded back, grabbing her hand and squeezing softly. 

"Whatever it is, get it out of your mind for now. I'm right here." You told her. 

She smiled looking at you like you had just relieved her of the world's weight. 

You walked inside sitting at one of the tables. Your phone buzzed, Simon texting you. 

You good?

Yes, I'm lunching with Melissa and Amy 😜

Lucky you, be careful, text me if you need anything.

Yes lieutenant

Good girl.

You smiled before getting your attention back to your friend. She smiled at you, a sad look on her face. You frowned.

"You're coming home with me after lunch. You'll spend the afternoon with us." 

She opened her mouth to protest but you cut her off. 

"No.. don't worry. Amy will love playing with the boys." 

You smiled at her as she relaxed a bit.

"Let's order! Lunch is on me!" 

After lunch Melissa asked you to keep Amy as she needed to pass by base before heading to your house. You had accepted, telling her you'd text Price as he was on base and would bring her home. She had firstly refused but eventually gave up under your insistence. You had called Price who had agreed without a  blink. 

You had let her go to her occupation as you walked to Simon's car. He had let you take it today as he went to work with the rest of the squad. You were lucky to have it as the car seat was still in the back. You sat the little girl in the car seat. She was oddly quiet. 

"Y/n?" She asked. 

"Yes darling ?" You said with a smile. 

"Who Ewic?" 

You froze. You looked at the little girl trying to figure out why she was speaking this name. 

"Hum… honey. Where did you hear that name?" 

The little child fidgeted with her plushie. 

"Hey hey… it's alright. You're ok baby. I'm not mad at you. I'm just curious." You tried with the softest voice and tone possible, passing a thumb over her cheek..

"Mommy was tawlkin on the phone with somwone. She said Ewic was out. Is it a puppy?" 

Her eyes lit up with a light that made your heart ache. You knew exactly who it was. And you fully understood Melissa's anxiousness now. 

"Listen monkey. Eric is not a nice person. But. Now that you told me, I'm going to make sure he's not coming near you or mommy ever." You answered with a wink. 

"Promise?"

"I promise my Love." 

You buckled her up, your mind running wild. You had to call Laswell as soon as possible but obviously not with Amy around. The little mouse seemed to enjoy eavesdropping. 

"Ready to go see your boys?" 

"YES!" 

You smiled buckling up yourself before turning the key, the engine roaring. 

Parking in front of the garage you sighed. Amy had fallen asleep in the car and you didn't want to wake her up. You got out of the car walking around it to open her door. You freed her trying to remain as quiet as possible. When you picked her up you amazed yourself at how deep in her sleep she was. It made you smile. You walked to the front door, trying to open the door with your free hand. When it finally opened you were greeted by many loud voices. You closed your eyes mentally cursing them. 

You put her head to make sure one of her ears was blocked by your shoulder and the other by your hand as you held her head. You closed the door with your feet and walked to the living room to the men. As soon as they saw you, you shushed them, now pointing at the sleeping child. The room immediately went silent, Simon walking to you. 

"She fell asleep in the car…" you whispered with a smile. 

"Let's lay her down on the couch.. I'll keep the volume down." 

You nodded with another smile. You walked further into the room heading for the couch, the boys surrounding you when you reached it. You very slowly and softly put the child on the couch, taking off the shoes and her coat. You thought she might wake up for a second. You heard the men literally stop breathing and then release their breath when she went back to her dreams. You wanted to laugh. You bit your lip to avoid it. Gaz had brought a blanket and soap handed you her little plushie. 

You covered her and placed her little teddy next to her. Everyone was fixating on the child, whispering how adorable and cute she looked. You looked at Ghost who stood, arms crossed behind the couch, eyeing his men. You smiled walking around the couch to him. He glanced at you and you put your hand on his bicep. 

"Simon… relax. She's a sound sleeper, they won't wake her up." 

He looked around before nodding. He visibly relaxed as you headed for the kitchen. You dropped your coat on the chair softly. You put the kettle on, dying for some warm tea. Simon followed you, leaning against the counter behind you. 

"Any news on the cartel?" You asked in a low voice. 

"We have some Intel, yes. Thanks to your help we might have a few clues but we need more info." He explained. 

You nodded. 

"How are you feeling?" You asked. 

"Better. It's out of my system." He paused for a second. "Thank you for helping…" 

You smirked, stepping closer to him only inches from his face.

"Thank you for my mind wrecking orgasms…" you whispered. 

You actually saw his pupils widen. You bit you lip. 

"Any fucking time. I'd kill to hear you moan my rank or my name again…" he wrapped his arms around you. 

"You don't have to kill, just ask silly" you chuckled, trying to keep your voice low. 

You kissed him through the mask as his eyes softened. 

"So precious… fuck I'm so lucky." 

You blushed, hiding your face in his chest. 

"I'm the lucky one…" you mumbled. 

"Let's agree to disagree on that…" 

You wanted to talk back on that but the front door opened and Melissa and Price's voices were heard. You winked at Simon as you separated from him. Melissa walked in with Price.

"Well it's aw-" 

"SHUUUU" 

You wanted to laugh at the men's reaction. Price looked very confused so you pointed at the couch. Melissa and Price walked to it and their smiles grew. 

"Oh… sorry." He whispered. 

"You know, she's quite a sound sleeper. I vacuum during her nap, you guys can talk normally." Melissa said with a laugh in a perfectly normal voice. Everyone smiled but kept the volume to a minimum. Even the TV remained pretty quiet compared to the usual. You had made tea for you and Ghost and coffee for Price and Melissa and sat at the table with them. Ghost and Price engaged in small talk about the mission, nothing new or too important. Melissa was fidgeting with her fingers, something that Amy had gotten from her mother. 

"Melissa. You ok?" You asked. 

She took a deep breath. She grabbed the folder she had with her. You frowned as you only noticed it now. She must have picked it up at the base. She opened it, grabbing a few pieces of paper held together by a staple. She handed it to you and you noticed her hand shaking a bit. The full action caught Price's and Ghost's attention. You took it in your hand and looked down, reading it. Your blood ran cold as you read the title. 

CHILD GUARDIAN CONSENT FORM

You looked at her, your eyes already burning with tears. She smiled at you as she started to tear up too. 

"No… no. Don't do this to me…" 

You felt your heart break. Yes. You were extremely honored that she would ask this of you. But you knew why she was asking it. She was preparing for the possibility that she might not be there for her daughter anymore. That she won't be there to see her grow up. You let the papers drop to the table as you hid your face in your hands now fully on crying. 

"Oh no.. no sweetheart… I am so sorry…" you heard. 

Her voice was laced with her own crying as she stood to hug you. You dropped your hands now leaning against her as she hugged you tightly. Ghost had grabbed the papers, a worried look on his face. His face melted into something you didn't fully understand.

"Hey. Hey. Please." 

You looked at her. Both crying. 

"I need you to sign these. I'm begging you. You're the only one I would ever trust with my child if I died." 

"Don't fucking say that, damn Melissa…" 

You wanted to cry even more. You know this. You knew this situation and this feeling too well. The flashbacks of you, alone in an empty apartment, haunted by memories and voices of lost ones, made your throat ache. 

"I know… I know you've lost so much… and I'm so sorry I have to ask you this. But… this is a reality we can't ignore." 

You looked away. The worried looks of Soap, gaz and Konig met yours. They stood frozen, alert. It hit you that you had just burst into tears in the middle of the living room. You looked at Price, who now had the papers in hand. He sent you a sad, understanding look. 

You wiped your tears turning back to the woman in front of you. Smiling at Melissa. 

"I'll sign it. You know I will. But please. You have to tell me what's going on with Eric." 

She visibly paled again but nodded. She sat down again, next to you this time. 

"Do you want us to be alone?" You asked. 

She looked at the men around. 

"It's… fine. At this point." She chuckled sourly.

The boys got nearer now surrounding the table. 

"Eric… has been given permission out of jail." 

You grabbed her hand in yours. 

"Who's Eric?" Soap asked in a serious tone. 

You looked at her, squeezing her hand to remind her you were there. 

"Eric was… my ex-husband and Amy's father." She started. "We separated because… he was…" 

"An asshole." You added. 

They all seemed to understand the underlined evidence. You saw Soap's jaw clench and the rest of the team tense up. 

"After.. quite a rough episode, he was sentenced to jail.. he was more than violent towards me.. he was violent towards everyone. He ended up killing someone in a bar fight." She explained. 

You already knew this story. It still made you absolutely furious. 

"Melissa. I won't let him come near you. You know that." You said seriously.

She smiled at you brightly. 

"I know I know. But it brought many scenarios to my mind and… i realized that even if he was still locked up, my job is already dangerous enough. I could never have him keep her if I d-... Hum… if something happened." 

You sighed. 

"Don't worry. We'll keep you both safe." Konig said. 

"Yeah, no worries." Gaz added with a smile. 

"And if it puts your mind at peace. If anything ever happened to you. Your little girl is safe with us." Price added. 

You nodded. She teared up again, this time you got up to hug her, holding her close to your chest. 

"Thank you… really…" 

You held her tight. 

It took a little moment for her to calm down. Once she did you sat down again, grabbing the papers. You took a deep breath and the pen Soap was handing you and you filled the form, dropping your signature at the bottom of the pages. 

Melissa looked at you with eyes full of appreciation. 

"You are having dinner with us. No questions." You finally said. 

"And we'll bring you home." Price added. 

She tried to say something but you hushed her. She smiled, finally nodding. 

"Let's lighten up the mood!" Soap said. 

"Yes! Come on, let's play cards." 

The evening went by calmly. Amy had woken up from her nap and was absolutely thrilled to be with her men. She had a particular affection for her grandpa today, much to Ghost's dismay. 

"Guys guys guys!" Soap called after dinner. 

"There's a bar club that opened at the base. We should check it out!" 

You smirked, looking at Melissa. 

"That sounds amazing no?" 

"Ah ah ah… I have a daughter… I can't." She argued. 

"I can keep the young princess. She'll stay with her grandpa." Price offered. 

Amy squealed in happiness, Price now fully embracing his new rank. 

"Come on. You need to relax too." You tried again. 

"Y/N… i don't even have anything to wear…" 

"Yes you do! Come on, I'll lend you something." You said hugging her. 

You let go as she laughed. You looked at Ghost. 

"Shall we?" 

He sighed, but nodded. 

You jumped, so happy to find a moment of peace in this very wild life of yours.

"Come on darling, let's go!" 

You grabbed her hand passing by Amy as you both hugged and kissed her cheek even though she was in deep explanation of why Mr Fred Lego is the best tiger tamer of the many Legos lying on the floor. Price glued to her every word. 

You walked up the stairs with Melissa getting into your room. 

"I'm sure we can find something for you to wear!" You said with a big smile. 

You took a long 30 minutes to enjoy going over the pieces of clothing and chatting. You could feel you were both trying to erase the odd feeling that remained. The pain and sadness that was laced with every laugh or little joke. 

You ended up choosing a one piece jumpsuit styled like a business woman. It hugged her mommy curves perfectly and it made you whistle at her just to make her blush. 

She had chosen a pair of black ripped jean shorts, a black tank top sweatshirt and some black combat boots. You had mentioned you looked like an angsty teenager while she looked like a professional queen. She had laughed at that. You had a pair of tights because it was fresh outside. Once both were ready you had skipped downstairs, happily looking at the boy's new clothing. 

Soap was dressed in dark blue and black with jeans, a t-shirt and a bomber. Gaz had gone full out with his clothes, black button up shirt and  classy pants. Konig was in black cargo pants, a black sweatshirt. He had a black beanie. He looked like a teenager too. Simon… 

Simon caught your breath. He was wearing black jeans and combat boots. Black sweatshirt with a leather jacket. He was wearing his usual skull mask and skeleton gloves. You skipped over to him, biting your lip. 

"Hey…" you winked at him. 

"Are you trying to flirt with me?" He teased. 

"Absolutely." You smirked. 

"Good." He winked back, wrapping an arm around your waist. "I got a little surprise for you." 

You tilted your head to the side, suddenly curious. 

"Let's go!" Soap chimed. 

You all waved at Price and Amy, who's eyes were looking heavier by the minute but kept stubbornly trying to focus on the book Price was reading. 

You headed towards the garage, Soap gaz Konig and Melissa getting into a car while Simon walked you a bit further. They left leaving you with Simon as you finally noticed 'his surprise'. 

"You.. have a bike?!" You jumped happily. 

He chuckled. 

"I do. I can see you like it." 

You nodded frantically. 

"Since when?? I never saw it before!" 

"It was in storage in another base. They shipped it here. It arrived this afternoon." He explained.

He grabbed a bag, handing it over to you. You dropped your hand inside pulling out the object. You gasped, a huge smile on your lips. 

"You bought me a helmet?! WITH FLUFFY BUNNY EARS?!" 

You looked at the black helmet, white fluffy plush ears falling on either side. They will probably fly in the wind. You jumped in his arms catching him off guard. 

"Thank you!!!" 

He wrapped his arms tightly around you. You dropped a kiss on his cheek, noticing how his eyes didn't leave your lips. You kissed him through the mask teasing him. 

"Lift it up." 

You shook your head no. 

"Bunny. Want to feel your lips." 

You melted, lifting up his mask. He immediately caught your lips, kissing you deeply. You sighed, feeling like the world vanished. His tongue asked for access that you were not in position to deny. The kiss deepened, making your head spin a little. 

"Shit…" he cursed. 

You wanted to laugh. The way it was so easy to work him up. 

"Simon…" you tried in between kisses. 

He groaned at your call. 

"We… have… to go." You giggled. 

He finally freed your lips but not your waist. 

"We could stay… I'll take good care of you…" 

The promise was thrilling. But you also wanted to spend time with Melissa. 

"How about… we make a deal." 

He frowned under the mask. 

"We go out… I rile you up. If you can manage to wait to be home to fuck me… you can do whatever you want to me…" 

He held you tighter, you could feel his cock twitch in his pants. 

"If you can't… I get to do whatever I want with you…" you smirked at him. 

"Oh bunny…" he chuckled, the dark vibe of it back. "That's a win win…" 

"Never said it wasn't… let's just see… if you can handle it." You winked. 

He shook his head, his eyes clearly showing a smirk under his mask. 

"Alright then. Helmet on. You hop on behind me bunny." 

He let go of you and you hurried to obey him. You put your helmet on, as he took place on the bike. You climbed up behind him as he turned on the bike. It roared loudly, the echo of the garage making it even more exciting. He brought your hands to his waist but you decided to tease him and bring them back to your knees. He shook his, rearing up the bike. You fell backwards, quickly wrapping your arms around his waist. You saw his head move in a 'thought so' movement that not only made you want to fuck him right on the spot but also curse him out. 

The garage door opened as he drove out slowly. Once on the road he made sure to squeeze your hands, warning you to hold on tight. He sped up, one of his hands reaching back to hold your tight. Fuck was it hot. Suddenly your little challenge felt complicated, even for you. 

Once you reached the bar, you were almost out of breath. The adrenaline had made your heart beat much faster than it should. 

You hopped off the bike, meeting up the rest of the group. Melissa was watching you with wide eyes and a mouth agape. You took off your helmet, smiling at her. 

"Shit! You're so lucky!!!" She smiled. 

"I know!!!" You yelled. 

"Are those bunny ears on your helmet?" Soap asked. 

You smiled jumping up and down looking back at Simon. He shook his head again but you knew he was probably smiling under the mask. You left it in Soap's car and headed inside the bar with everyone, Simon not leaving your side. 

The music and talking was loud. Two pool tables were placed at the back of the bar. Some people were dancing, others played darts. Tables with seats were available as well. You all walked to a table, a bit more secluded trapped in between seats. You all sat down as Gaz and Soap decided to go to the bar to get everyone's drinks. They ordered before coming back to sit down. 

Everyone indulged themselves in a nice chatter. Ghost was sitting next to you, arms around your shoulders on the seat. You had leaned against him. He had reached for your neck to take out his tags from underneath your clothes so they were visible. You had rolled your eyes before meeting Melissa's gaze as wiggled her eyebrows.

You were so happy to spend time with her. You got to chat and joke with her. It was exactly what you both needed to forget the sad conversation of the evening. She was now talking to Gaz and Konig, debating about some military thing that you weren't really familiar with. You smiled to yourself. She was happy, and that made you happy.

You decided to start playing around. Your hand traveled to Simon's thigh as he was talking with soap. He tensed under your touch but kept talking. You let your hand travel up and down, caressing it. The more you did the closer you got to his crotch. Soap had turned his attention to Gaz for a minute. Simon lowered his head to whisper in your ear. 

"You're playing with fire, little one…"

"Am I?" You asked with an innocent look. 

Your hand cupped his cock through his pants. He closed his eyesbrows furrowing. Your plan was working and you were proud of it. You wondered how he'll react once you'll be home together. He opened his eyes, staring right into you.

"Give me a reason not to fuck you in the bathroom right now…" 

You almost choked in your own spit. You bit your lip. 

"You'll lose our game…" 

He cocked his head to the side as you pumped him through his pants. 

"Shit… you're right. Can't wait to do everything I want with you bunny…" 

A shiver ran down your spine making you swallow hard. 

You decided to stop completely, his eyes confused. You got up from the table, excusing yourself to go get another drink. You made sure to sway your hips for him, because you just knew, he was staring at you. You reached the bar, ordering another cocktail. You were patiently waiting for your drink when a voice interrupted. 

"Hey there pretty girl." 

You rolled your eyes. You glanced at the man to your left. You made sure to make the dog tags visible.

"What's a sexy girl like you doing at the bar?" He asked with a wink. 

"I'm out with some friends and my boyfriend." You tried. You wanted to remain civil. But also wanted him to back off. 

"Ooohh… you got someone?" 

You nodded, turning back to the bar, now hoping the bartender would hurry. 

"I don't see him though… he left you all alone?" 

"No. I just wanted another drink." You were getting annoyed now. 

"Who's that boyfriend of yours?" 

You wanted to answer when another voice interrupted. 

"Me." 

The guy turned around as you bit your lip not to laugh. 

"Hi. I'm the fucking boyfriend." 

You quickly realized that the situation was much more tense than you had expected. He was mad. Angry. 

The guy asked, stumbling over his words, trying to apologize. You watched as Simon clenched his fists. You hoped over to him, putting your hands over his chest. He immediately wrapped his arms around you. 

"Simon… it's alright…" you whispered to him. 

The guy was still trying to stutter something. 

"Fuck off." He ordered. 

The poor boy ran right off, not waiting for another order. 

"Simon.. You ok?" 

He was furious. You could feel it. He still nodded. Soap and the group joined you two. You realized the whole bar was staring, though trying not to be obvious. You had to be honest. Seeing him angry, possessive like this turned you on more than you'd ever admit it out loud.

"Perhaps we should head home?" Soap said with an obvious amused smile. 

Simon turned to him. 

"Don't make me smack you in front of all these people." He warned. 

Soap lost his smile, but Gaz laughed out loud. 

"Let's go." You asked, looking at Simon. 

He nodded. Soap and Gaz decided to pay, and followed you out. 

The fresh air felt good against your warm skin. While you grabbed your helmet in the car, Simon was already on the bike. Melissa winked at you, as she got in the car. You put the helmet on, taking place behind him on the engine. 

"Hold tight." He warned. 

Shit… 

He sped out of the parking lot. You had to hold on really tight to remain there. He had grabbed your thigh again, making sure you felt safe. You knew what he needed. He needed to blow some steam off. You might be risking a lot, but you decided to tempt him. Your hands grabbed at his thighs, he tensed under your touch. He picked up speed. You squeezed his hardening cock through his pants. The hand on your thigh caressed up and down. 

He turned a sharp left, definitely not in the direction of the house. You finally stopped in an empty location in the middle of the base, hidden in between warehouses. 

"Hop off!" He ordered. 

You obeyed immediately, taking off your helmet. He killed the engine, grabbing you immediately. 

"That was dangerous bunny." 

Shit… you had managed to make him even more angry. 

"I'm… sorry… i just wanted to-" 

"No." 

What? He grabbed your helmet and placed it on the bike. He lifted his mask, capturing your lips. The heat rose very fast, your back hitting a metallic wall. He picked you up like you were nothing, your legs wrapping around his waist.

"Fuck… you drive me insane…" he cursed. 

Your heart skipped a beat. He decided that your neck needed more decoration, sucking and licking there, making sure to leave pretty little marks behind. You moaned, the pain mixing with pleasure. He grinded his hips against yours, his obvious erection rubbing against your clit through the clothes. 

"S-simon…" you whined. 

He put you down again, making sure you stood on your feet. He opened your shorts, dropping them down. 

"Simon! What… if someone sees us?" You worried. 

"I'll fucking kill them." 

You gasped. He ripped through the tights. Fuck this man was impatient. 

"I'll take you shopping." He said as if he heard your thoughts. 

He definitely will, you'll make sure of it. 

He dropped to his knees, your panties following your shorts. With his mask still lifted he kissed your folds. You moaned, anticipation coursing through you. 

"Such a pretty pussy… mine.." he growled. 

His tongue licked through your folds, the wave of pleasure making you grab onto his shoulders. 

"Ooohh.. fuck" you moaned. 

His tongue slowly loved your clit, the pleasure making your blood heat up. 

You were getting wetter and wetter but fuck, he kept eating you out like a starved man. Your legs shook. He sucked on your clit making you whine. He was building your orgasm like bob the fucking builder and he knew it. The eye contact was a nice 'i know you like what my tongue is doing to you'. 

"Simon… I.. I want to cum…" 

He groaned against your cunt, the vibration only helping the knot in your stomach tightening. He slipped his arms under your thighs making you legs rest on his shoulders. You yelped as your feet lifted up the ground. Your hips were firmly secured in his hands. It would forever amuse and amaze you how this man could lift you up like you weighed absolutely nothing. 

You could relax now, and your orgasm was peeking around. 

"S-simon.. I'm gon-na… fuuuuuck…" 

He had the talent to leave you a stuttering mess. His tongue flattened, pushing on your clit and circling. You let your head fall back, your orgasm crashing over you. You were loud, moaning his name. He let you ride your orgasm on his tongue. Once you were finally stable he put you on the ground again. He rose, chin dripping, making you blush. He wiped his mouth with his clothes, eyes never leaving yours. You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, the shear sound of it making you clench around nothing. 

He freed himself, his thick cock already leaking. He reached for your hips listing you up so you could wrap your legs around him. You held on tights to his shoulders as he walked over to his bike, sitting you on it. His Tim's pressed against your entrance as he eyed you, asking for permission. You instantly nodded as you bit your lip. You felt him buck his hips slowly, the tip slipping in. 

"Fuuuck… so tight…" he moaned. 

And you remembered. 

"S-imooon…" you tried, the name getting lost in a moan. 

He kept inching more and more into your heat, getting lost in the feeling of your walls around him. 

"Simon!" 

He stopped. Awaiting for orders. 

"We.. don't have a condom!" You whined. 

What was it with you two? Were you that irresponsible? You watched his pupils widen. 

"Shit…" he cursed. 

His hips bucked, his cock burying itself even more. 

You threw your head back, a long moan escaping your lips. 

"We.. should stop." He said. 

You nodded. Your eyes begging for something entirely different. He inched himself deeper. 

"We.." deeper. "Really" deeper. "Should." Incredibly deeper. "Stop." He bottomed out. 

You felt so full, your wall pulsating around him already. He refused to move. He was panting, trying to hold himself back from fucking you senseless. 

Your body moved on his own grinding against him to feel some kind of friction. He grunted, his hips slowly meeting yours. 

"This.. is… a stupid, thing… to do." He warned. 

"Pull… out… then." 

His hips thrusted more and more, a pace quickly creating itself. It felt primal, like your minds were screaming for this to stop, that it was wrong… forbidden. Your reasons only building up the excitement. His hands met your hips, keeping you steady as he was now fully pounding you on his bike. You were moaning, his name and curses a prayer your lips were getting addicted to. 

His eyes were the most sinful thing you ever laid eyes on. The deep dark orbs worshiping you as he fucked you in a forbidden pace. 

You were damned. You must be. Because your mind and body were only kneeling for him. He had full power, full control over you. If this man worshiped you, you were merely his shadow. 

You chanted his name again and again, your high building again. His own pace became rough, the bike shaking. You could feel he was close too. 

"Ah…fuck! Si-" you choked on his name as he made sure to pound your G-spot. 

"You.. should… FUCK. Pull out…" you tried. 

You were dripping. His balls slammed against your ass while you tried to maintain a bit of moral compass in this. To your dismay, the knot breaking deep inside you washed over your moral and consciousness like a tidal wave. 

"Yes.. i… Should.." he growled, quickening his pace.

You were lost in your high when you were caught by surprise by another orgasm rolling through you. Your mind barely processing it. 

"Gonna cum baby…" he grunted, panting and moaning. 

He should pull out. Fuck he should. But your legs wrapped around him tight, your orgasm controlling you. He didn't seem like he wanted to fight it either. His cock twitched inside you, two deep thrusts making it spill deep inside you. Your clenching walls milking him. 

You remained like that as you tried to catch your respective breaths. 

"Fuck.." he cursed. 

"Fuck.. indeed…" you added. 

"What's fucking wrong with me.." he scolded himself. 

"You?... What's fucking wrong with us!" You scolded too. 

He pulled out of you, watching his cum drip down on his bike and the ground. You watched it too, the sight sending shivers down you spine. You saw his cock twitch again. 

"Simon!" You scolded. 

He cursed loudly before shoving his cock back in his boxers and pants. He helped slip your shorts on again. 

"We need condoms on us all the time." He said. 

"Perhaps we should stop fucking everywhere and anywhere?" You proposed, not believing it one second yourself. 

He chuckled. 

"Don't laugh Simon!" You tried, your lips betraying yourself. 

"Let's go home. Everyone's waiting." He said. 

"Yeah… I'll go to the doctor tomorrow to see if maybe I can take the pill… you seem to love… filling me up." You announced. 

"Fucking hell…" he cursed.

You could see in his eyes that your words were turning him on again. You placed the tip of your boot on his chest. 

"No! Simon!" 

He looked at your feet, eyes smirking. This man was fucking feral. He wrapped his wrist around your ankle lowering it. He grabbed your helmet from the ground, dusting it off and handing it to you. 

"Let's go home. I need to fuck you again." 

[starsofang]

Call of Duty || Coraline AU || Part 3

Running away to start a new chapter and escape the troubles of your past, you find yourself in a darker predicament than you had hoped for.

Coraline with a twist. And COD men. Obviously.

PT.1 / PT.2

The world around you felt dark and cold as you found yourself trapped, alone, scared. It felt as if the weight of your past was heavy on your chest, pressing down, down until you were gasping for air. You pleaded for it to stop, for it to give you space to breathe, but when you opened your mouth to scream, nothing came out.

Your mind clouded with brooding colors of reds and purples – blood, so much of it, pooling around you as you screamed and screamed, only for it all to go unheard. The knots in your stomach tightened, the thick bile rising in the acids threatening to spew out as the sickening feeling of no escape settled over you.

This wasn’t right. You had escaped the talons of her, she did not have a hold on you anymore. She could no longer sink her teeth into you, like a deranged mutt in a state of ferality where she saw nothing but her own blinding hatred for the world around her. For you.

So why, now, could you picture her face right in front of you, her smile curving into something so malicious, you could practically see the pure venom dripping out of her mouth? To any outsider, one might’ve considered her smile motherly. Warm like a bright, summer day, the type of day where the breeze wisps through your hair, the sun beaming down on you like a loving embrace, where everything felt perfect. Right.

But you knew better.

Where people saw solace, you saw a prison.

The iron bars caged you in like a rabid animal on display. There was no escape, no way of scrounging up a key to let yourself free. You were stuck, forced to remain a forever prisoner in your own mind. You could do nothing in this cage, even as your skin caked itself in its own blood, forming crimson puddles on the cold, cold ground while she struck you – once, twice, and as many times as needed until she was satisfied.

But she never was satisfied. It was never enough for her.

Even though you had escaped and sought out solitude in a new home, far, far away, you could never truly experience sovereignty over your own life. You would always remain battered and broken, scarred with the remnants of the life you wish so desperately to rid yourself of.

Trapped, forever and always.

You startle in your bed with a sharp inhale, body sitting up on autopilot as you rapidly blinked away the tears you don’t remember forming. The room was cold and dark, just like your nightmare had been. But unlike your nightmare, it was quiet and tranquil, the light sound of rain pattering against your window with the faintest of moonlight peeking through the clouds to shine throughout your room.

You spent a few moments there, mulling over the storm cloud over your mind, willing it to go away.

You were safe here. Tucked away in a new town that nobody knew the name of, in a home you could call your own – the very first thing you could ever call your own.

Lifting a hand to rub tiredly at your face, you had failed to notice the pair of eyes watching you – mapping you out. Studying. Judging.

It wasn’t until you heard a pathetic meow that you realized, and when you looked up through the darkness of your room and to the window, you saw a familiar cat sitting along a small part of the roof that hung over the downstairs of your home. He sat patiently, staring at you with yellow orbs that seemed to pierce through you, black tail swaying lazily behind him. The rain did not waver his patience, and for a cat, he certainly didn’t seem to mind the waterdrops that soaked into his fur.

“Oh,” you breathed out in surprise. You pushed aside the wrinkled blankets of your bed, standing on your bare feet to pad over to the window. You tugged it open with a grunt, the old wood scraping along the frame.

The sound of the rain grew tenfold with no barrier to block out the noise, but you didn’t mind. Instead, you tilted your head down curiously at the cat as he tilted his in return, as if to silently ask if he could come in.

“Come on, you little minx. It’s cold,” you offered with a huff through your nose, stepping aside to allow him to pounce through the window. He came in, parading around like he’d been there before, and you quickly shut the window back up, shielding the both of you from the downpour outside.

You stood in place by the window as the cat moseyed around the room, little drops of water slipping off of his fur and onto the wood floor. He paid you no mind as he stuck up his nose, slitted eyes observing the room. You weren’t sure what he was looking for, but you dared not interrupt the furry thing.

For the first few moments of being in your room, he gave off the impression that he was growing bored. The way he carelessly walked around, tail swishing to and fro behind him, you felt as if he was unimpressed, which was silly to think. He was a damn cat.

Then, he paused in his motions right at the foot of your door, turning his head to stare at you expectantly from where you remained near the window. Raising your eyebrows, you glanced between him and the bedroom door.

“What? You want out?” you asked him. He stared. Annoyingly so.

Sighing, you retreated from the window and over to the door. It creaked as you opened it, filling the quiet, empty house with an eerie sound. He stood, curling out of the opening of the door, prancing down the hallway and towards the stairs. You were unsure why you felt the need to follow him, but you did. You told yourself it was because you didn’t want him accidentally breaking any of the few things you had as decor, and not because he seemed to be silently asking you to follow.

You paced behind him, eyes following his every move. He no longer spared a glance at you, even as he descended the stairs and made his way to the lower part of the home. Briefly, you wondered if he had lived here before with the previous resident. He knew his way around the home like somebody who had mapped it out in memory, but that wouldn’t have made sense. John and Gaz had made it clear that Laswell had closed the home up for quite some time, and you were the lucky girl who happened to score the lottery in being allowed to move in.

After some walking, you found yourself standing in the living room with Si. Your eyes drifted around the dingy, old room that had yet to be furnished and decorated with things other than the old couches and ugly paintings, until they landed on where he was sitting.

“What…?” you trailed off when you realized he was seated right in front of the small door you had found previously. He was facing the door, but his eyes were set on you, challenging you, urging you. “There’s nothing there, you dumb thing. It’s all bricked up.”

Si made no effort to move, and if you looked hard enough, you could see a hint of annoyance in those beady eyes of his.

The two of you sat in a staring competition for a moment in time. He was challenging you, you were challenging him.

“You don’t believe me?” you asked with a glare. Were you really arguing with a cat? “Fine.”

You spun on the bare heels of your feet to stomp into the kitchen. Throwing open the drawer, you rummaged your hand around until your fingers curled around the familiar, black key. Holding it up to inspect it, you shut the drawer once you confirmed it being the right one, before returning to the living room.

Kneeling in front of the door, you sent another glare in Si’s direction. He tilted his fuzzy head, ears pointed straight up, tail curling into a C shape on the floor where he sat.

You all but shoved the key into the hole, rattling and turning it until it clicked in place. When it unlocked, you tugged it open, once again turning to give Si a look of I told you so.

Except something felt different. There was never a rush of cold air before, nor did it sound so… hollow.

Looking back at the door, you nearly felt your soul leave your body. It was no longer bricked up and hidden away like it was before, no. Now, there was a tunnel. Bright colors of purples and blues, swirling into an illusion that had you hypnotized. You stared, and stared, until you felt like your retinas were going to burn from the sheer brilliance of the newfound discovery.

“How did you–”

You turned back to Si. This time, if you were seeing correctly, he looked like the one who wanted to say I told you so. Snarky minx.

When you made no effort to move forward, he did. Standing on his paws, he swayed forward and into the tunnel, luring you into the unknown abyss that looked straight out of a painting. It didn’t look real, not in any sense, nor did any of this feel real. Perhaps you were still dreaming, and this was your brain’s way of trying to protect you from the battering nightmares that had tormented you every night of your pathetic life.

You watched as he whisked away into the tunnel, deeper, and it was then you realized there was another door on the other end. An opening, but for what?

Si stopped halfway through the tunnel to turn to you expectantly. He wanted you to follow him, and he was making his impatience obvious. For a cat, he sure was a sassy thing. Smart, too, but you’d never tell him that, even if the damned thing didn’t know how to talk.

You bent forward to press your hands on to the floor, knees digging uncomfortably into the hard wood. Carefully, you moved yourself forward. The moment your hand planted itself into the tunnel, you realized it was oddly warm, like a comforting tug to entice you in further.

Unfortunately for you, it was working.

Continuing forward, Si seemed satisfied to see you following him. You remained behind him as he jumped around the soft ridges of the tunnel, easing yourself further and further into the unknown.

For a mere moment, Soap’s words replayed in the back of your mind. I’ll turn down the music if you promise not to go through the little door, Miss Caroline.

“Sorry, Soap,” you muttered to yourself.

After what felt like a lifetime, you reached the end of the tunnel and came face to face with the door on the other side. It looked just like the one in your own home, yet somehow, cleaner. Nicer. Perhaps you were just seeing things. It was rather dark, after all.

Si gave you one of those looks that you were beginning to learn was his way of encouraging you. Do it, stupid girl, you imagined him saying.

Stupid girl you were indeed, as you lifted a hand off of the purple flooring of the tunnel to cautiously press against the door. It opened with ease, like it was expecting you and welcoming you in.

Crawling out, your eyes took in the sight of what laid beyond the door.

It was your house – except, not. It was better. Much more clean, much more modernized, and a lovely smell of something sweet filled the air. It was much nicer compared to the dingy, mildew smell that filled your house on the other side.

This house felt like a home.

Standing up and brushing the dust off of your knees, you glanced over at Si to see him already staring up at you. You couldn’t read what he was thinking. His eyes were void of anything other than boredom, blinking slowly at you, and you knew that this time, he wouldn’t go unless you did. You weren’t quite sure how to feel about that.

Taking in a breath of courage, you willed yourself into the home, passing by the furniture in the living room as well as the pictures that littered the wall. There was something wrong with those pictures. Something was off.

When you stepped closer to get a better look at it, you realized why it was off.

You were in the pictures. Smiling, happy, unbroken. There were no scars, no sunken eyes, no anguish.

Just like the house, it was you, but it wasn’t. It was who you imagined yourself to be if you life hadn’t handed you an unfortunate deck of cards and told you fuck you, you’re on your own, kid.

Entranced in the newfound version of you, you failed to notice the lingering presence in the house. It called out your name, and you knew something was wrong when they referred to you correctly. 

“Coraline!” the voice shouted, and your blood ran cold. “Is that you?”

As if sensing your discomfort, Si walked between your ankles, soft fur cradling against your skin. He peered up at you from between your feet, eyes now much softer looker than the previous times where he had looked at you with a hint of judgment and displeasure.

Taking a deep breath and staring down at Si for a long moment, you nodded to yourself, taking a step forward to venture out of the living room and to the kitchen, where you had heard the voice. Si followed closely by your side, tail whooshing in the air. He didn’t seem at all nervous, so maybe you didn’t have to be either.

“There you are!”

You felt the wind knocked out of your lungs when you saw who stood before you. The air grew constricted in your chest, blood running cold. Pure dread filled every fiber of your bone, so much so you could practically feel it vibrating and rattling from inside of you.

Beady, button eyes stared at you. An all too familiar smile beamed in your direction, teeth pointed and curving together, perfectly white and aligned. Skin rid of any imperfections, looking almost like a statue, one that you desperately wished you could hit and destroy, over and over, until it dissolved into nothing but crumpled dust and ash.

It was your mother. The very person you had escaped from.

But this wasn’t your mother. No. This was a distorted version of your mother that you felt like you were staring at through a broken lens. A bowl and whisk held in the crook of her arm, eyes void of any pupils and instead replaced by black, shiny buttons that felt as if they could pierce right through you.

That smile, that damned smile could send you into an early grave.

The only thing you could do was stare back, eyes glossed over with a darkening appearance of turmoil.

You were looking death right in the face, and it was smiling back at you.

—

cat simon 🙏🏻 also finally making progress, im so sorry the others werent in this chapter but they will be in the next, trust <3

[gremlinvanfleet]

𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖆𝖞 𝖔𝖓𝖊 - 𝖋𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 

anakin skywalker, circa. the clone wars

kinktober 2023

masterlist

who else is better than hayden christensen to kick off the month? we also have the same name and that's so wicked.

summary: you and anakin have been fighting in the deadly war for far too long, and you finally begin to turn to each other for comfort in the trying times after so much loss.

warnings: smut, swearing

word count: 1,884 (i'm so sorry)

The war had been taking its toll on everyone. Yourself included in that list of people as Obi-Wan’s new Padawan. You hadn’t noticed it about Anakin however. He commanded your fleet and you trusted him with every fibre of your being. He was strong, wise and had animal like instincts. A true leader. He never ever wavered and that’s why there was so much confidence in him, even if he defied orders, he always did it with the best interest of the people.

“Y/L/N! I need you here. Focus please.” He touched your shoulder. You didn’t even noticed you zoned out. 

“Sorry, General.” He nodded. He continued with his attack plan. It was simple but unbelievably effective. He didn’t believe in making things unnecessarily complex, especially when it could put his men at risk. 

“General Skywalker, how are we supposed to sneak in when they have droids outside the whole ship?” A clone asked. 

“That’s were Y/N comes in.” He gestured towards you. You felt your face heat up. You thought you were just going to be piloting with Anakin, not heading the mission. “She will fly around the perimeter and act as a distraction while we strike underneath.” 

“You have faith in her flying? She’s just a kid.” Another one chimed in. He shook his head. 

“Myself and General Kenobi have yet to see a reason to not. She’s reliable and smart. Don’t second guess me again.” He glared. Him defending you made you have a funny feeling in your stomach. 

You took a moment to admire him in this state that came so naturally to him. His hair had been a bit more tousled than usual, and his uniform was more wrinkled than you remember it. You saw him run his hands through it before he came into the command centre. Stress. The lightsaber attached to his waist shined under the light of the hologram above him. His blue eyes were as fiery as usual and the intensity behind his voice made you think he received intel that he didn’t find favourable. You felt for your friend and mentor in the moment. Obi-Wan may be your master but Anakin was a true friend. He’d been through everything you had already. He understands you. 

“Okay. I think that’s everything. Let’s go men. We have a hard battle ahead. Fight hard and with valiance and I’ll be endlessly proud.” He smiled but his eyes looked sad. He knows not everyone in this room will be coming back. 

The clones left the room but Anakin grabbed your wrist, prompting you to stay behind. 

“What is it, General?” You thought he had something important to say but instead you were met with his sad blues looking into yours. 

“I just feel like something bad is going to happen with this mission. I just don’t want it happening to you. Please promise me you’ll be careful.” 

“Anakin, you’re the one who taught me how to fly, remember? I believe you called yourself the best pilot in the galaxy. If you can’t have faith in me, have it in yourself.” You smiled at him. He chuckled. 

“Point taken. I do have faith in you though, Y/N. So does Obi-Wan. We are both so incredibly proud of you. You’ve served the council well and I’m certain you’ll continue to do so.” 

“Then why are you so worried? I’ll be just fine.” You tried to reassure him, even though you didn’t fully believe yourself. It’s scary when he gets a feeling like that. He’s always been able to see ahead. 

“Okay, okay. Let’s go then.” He walked beside you and nudged your shoulder. You laughed and walked with him to the hangar. 

The mission was gruelling but a success. Anakin had lost many of his men this time around but you made it out okay. In fact, you pulled it off perfectly. You had taken down one of General Grievous’ droid ships. Only a grain of sand in the scheme of things however. After the mission, Anakin came out of it with a heavy heart. He thought no one was looking but you saw him ignite his saber and use it in a supply room. Items clattered everywhere while he took out his rage. What was he mad at? It could be anything. The loss of his men. The knowledge that there is still so much work that needs to be done and that means losing even more men. It hurt you to see him in so much pain like this. You couldn’t just leave him like that. 

“Hey…” You stood in the doorway. He looked at you, nostrils flared, eyes in a frenzy. 

“What are you doing here? Go get some rest.” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair again.  “I won’t be resting until you do, General.” You knew he hated when you called him that, but you took the risk of poking a little fun at him. God knows you both need the pick me up. “You know I don’t like that.” He had a small smile on his face. You stepped closer to him. 

“Yeah, but it’s good fun.” You smiled. He chuckled. 

“Come on, lets try to get some sleep at least.” 

You followed him up to the sleep chambers. He got in his bed and you got into yours. The sleep came on quickly but just before you drifted off, you heard a shout from the room next to yours. Anakin. You ran into his room and found him sitting up, bare chested and breathing heavily. 

“What’s wrong?!” You searched his distressed face for an answer. He blinked at you. 

“Nothing, nothing. Go back to sleep Y/N.” He sounded defeated. Not something you’d expect from the strong man across from you. 

“Come on. I’m not that naive. You can talk to me.” You sat on the edge of his bed. He tipped his head back and sighed. Something was definitely weighing on him. 

“I just can’t get their faces out of my head…” He said dejectedly.  

“Who are you talking about?”

“The clones. We lost so many. I know its the fortune of war but I still can’t help but feel responsible.” He rubbed his forehead. 

“Anakin, listen to me. None of this is your fault. In fact, you’re the only person I know fighting in this war that cares so much about his men. I admire you so much for that.” You put your hand on his. He sighed and closed his troubled eyes. 

“We all care, Y/N. Some of us are just more radical than others.” 

“You’d be the most radical I think.” You joked. He cracked a small smile. 

“I think you’re the only one keeping me sane here…” He whispered. 

“Lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?” He searched his eyes. 

“I promise.” You squeezed his hand. 

“Can you stay here with me? Just for tonight so I can sleep?” His eyes looked sad. Your face heated up. You had wished for this to happen. You’d never admit it but deep down you’ve always hoped something more would happen between the two of you. 

“Yeah. I can stay.” You smiled and he returned it. 

He laid back down and you did the same beside him. He sighed a few times and turned over too. You gently put your hand on his arm and started drawing circles. He hummed and turned on his side to face you. 

“That feels nice.” He murmured. He kept his eyes on yours as you continued. He leaned in a bit closer. You felt your heart beating faster in your chest. Is it finally happening? He gently placed his soft lips onto yours. 

You quickly returned the kiss and slid closer to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest while never detaching from your lips. You whimpered into his mouth as he pushed his tongue in. You felt his mouth turn into a smirk after hearing it. He flipped himself over so he was between your legs. He pushed himself against you and started kissing down your neck.

“Is this okay?” His eyes were filled with concern. 

“Yes. Please keep going.” You pleaded. 

“As you wish.” He smiled and continued down your neck. He pulled your housecoat off revealing only underwear underneath. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to see you like this. I’ve thought about it all the time.” He admitted.  

“Me too.” You managed out between pants.

He quickly but carefully took off your underwear, revealing you completely to him. He stared for so long that you started to feel self conscious. You began to cover yourself again. 

“No no. Don’t do that. You just look so pretty, I can’t help myself.” He caressed your side, giving you goosebumps. 

“It’s your turn now, General.” His words gave you confidence. He shook his head and began taking off his clothes. His skin was such a beautiful colour and his battle scars just added to it even more. His metal arm glistened in the moonlight. You stared at his toned abdomen while you both took each other in. 

“Ready?” He was hard and not trying to hide it. His size was intimidating but definitely enticing at the same time. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” 

He slowly circled your clit with his hand while he pushed himself into you. You felt so full even after only half of him was inside. He groaned when he bottomed out and you clenched around him. 

“Fuck… So tight…” He hovered over you and rested his forehead against yours. The heat radiated against your skin so pleasantly as he pulled himself out and then back in again. The pleasure was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. His pace was too slow for your liking however. 

“Anakin, please… Faster.” You whined. He chuckled and began to move his hips faster. His skin smacked against yours and he spent time rubbing your clit to get you there. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” He panted. His fingers moved faster against you and your legs began to shake. “You gonna cum for me?” 

“Y-yes. Please don’t stop…” He smiled down at you and kept the pace of both his fingers and his hips. He drew you closer and closer to the edge with every movement. The coil in your stomach was ready to snap at any moment. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Cum for me.” His words were enough to bring you over and you shook and clenched all around him. “That’s it, pretty girl.” He wasn’t done though. 

He pounded you even faster as he chased his own high. He pushed deep inside you one final time with a loud groan. He pulled out and his seed spilled out of your swollen hole. He collapsed beside you and pulled you into his arms. 

“That was-“

“Unreal.” You finished. 

“Yeah. I can’t believe it took us this long.” He laughed 

“Me neither. Kinda kicking myself for it.” 

“Just don’t tell Obi-Wan. He’ll kill me.” You laughed at the fact that he was still scared of Obi-Wan after all this time. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You kissed his cheek and snuggled into his chest. 

A good sleep was on its way. 

© gremlinvanfleet 2023 <3

[thesarcasticreader]

PAC: THINGS TO KNOW ABOUT YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE

These are general readings meant for entertainment purposes. You can partake in advice, but do not let it cloud your decision-making.

I do take paid readings. You can contact me for them. Make sure you have either Paypal or Gpay! DM for the price list!

(IMAGES ARE TAKEN FROM PINTEREST)

Pile 1:

Your person is very emotional or has a tendency to put family above all. It would piss you off sometimes that they give too much of themselves to others who don't deserve it but you admire this trait of theirs as well.

They are very good at keeping secrets and hiding their feelings. This is a result of being lied to very often. This trait will drive you nuts too but when you get into a relationship. People can grow and learn. Do not keep unrealistic expectations from relationships but if someone doesn't show signs of change. Talk to them and resolve the issues.

Your person is someone who will change a lot in their lifetime. They are capable of learning and growing. 

This person loves cats a lot.

This person indulges in luxury quite a bit but stays within their means.

I am not seeing something about finances but this person is well-off. Not obnoxiously rich. But lives in a town with a cute two-story house that they own and have a shop where people from the town make purchases from. Very well off and can afford the best things.

Both of you are going to be from a well-off family. Affording Chanel is not all that there is in life. But I guess it helps 🥰🤣

You two are very likely to start a business together. You will end up leaving the place where you start at.

Say you live in a Town right now, you are likely to move to a bigger city to start your business with this person. For some of you, the business could revolve around event management or something to do with weddings and making wigs.

Looks like they could kill. Is a cinnamon roll.

Pile 2:

Your person was the heartbreaker of their time. This person had a bad childhood and they do not like talking about it.

Even though they say that it doesn’t bother them, it does.

They could even be in therapy for this too. And it is vital that their trust never be violated. This person needs a very emotionally stable person who is confident in them.

Your person could be argumentative too. It is one of the past influences that affected them badly. However, if they are made aware of the same. They will notice the pattern and actively try to change it.

This person is very lovely in a relationship. Their love will be displayed in their actions. It’s not always the big thing. The little ones like making sure your coffee is not too hot, shielding you from hitting your head in a corner, keeping you away from the roadside while you two are walking etc.

They are absolutely focused on you and they will do everything possible to make your life easier. 

This person is very supportive and will persuade you to go after your dreams. This person is literally soulmate material. Even if their past has been jaded, they stand strong.

For this pile, I am seeing appearance more clearly. Stoic and strong build for men. Dark hair and prefers to wear a sleeveless T-shirt at home. Taller, likes going to the gym, likes coffee from a solid red cup (this was very specific for some reason), and probably has a home with ceiling-to-floor windows. Might be scared of heights.

For women, blonde to brown hair, the classic mean girl look on their face, insanely business-oriented, no bullshit attitude, people are scared of her, has a small smile, when she laughs her eyes wrinkle cutely, and black loafers

Looks like they could kill. They will!

Pile 3:

This is my sunshine pile. There is a lot of cute in here and that’s what your person is like.

This person is someone who would cuddle a raccoon. I am sorry, but that’s what came through 😂😂

They love animals and probably volunteer a lot at shelters or reduce them. If you end up dating this person, you can expect to foster a lot of animals.

This person is not all sunshine though. Life has dealt them a tough hand but they have persevered. 

A lot of Fire and Water Energy in this pile. This has to be the happiest Scorpio pile I or most people have ever seen 😂😂

This person has a lot of energy. I know who this pile reminds me of. There is this girl on YouTube, Mikayla from SaveAFox. If you don’t know the channel. Go there right now. Get your immediate serotonin boost that even Masturbation can’t bring (I just had to) 😂😂

This is a relationship that will lead to marriage very quickly.

Your person is not concerned with material gains. They want emotional fulfilment.

This person feels like meeting an old friend after a long time. This person loves baking.

They prefer cute, handmade gifts and letters too. They are likely to give them to you as well.

Words of affirmation are their love language.

Early childhood may have included bullying in their case.

Looks like a Cinnamon Roll. Is a Cinnamon Roll.

The messages were flowing so happily and easily today. Sometimes it is so annoying that the thoughts just refuse to come to you and other days, I can basically pour myself into these readings. It is amazing afff✨🧿

IF YOU WANT MORE READINGS, YOU CAN CHECK MY INSTAGRAM: @A_sarcastic_Reader.