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kookslastbutton · 7 months

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what love feels like ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.

Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content

sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together

Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie

a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰

“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”

With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.

Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.

It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?

Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.

“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”

“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."

“Oh, well that’s very–“

“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.

“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”

Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.

“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.

Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”

As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”

“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.

“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”

With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.

“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”

The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.

“What did you say your last name is?”

You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.

“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.

“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.

“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”

Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.

“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”

“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”

“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.

There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.

Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?

“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.

“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”

“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”

“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.

“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.

“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”

Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?

This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.

“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.

“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."

Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.

For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.

Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.

Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.

“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”

What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”

“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.

You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.

“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.

“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."

With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.

"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.

"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.

"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."

"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.

"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"

"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.

"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."

Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."

"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.

"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"

You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"

"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."

The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.

"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."

That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.

"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.

"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”

"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."

Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."

Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.

"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.

"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.

"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.

"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.

"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.

"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"

Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.

"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.

"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"

"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."

"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"

"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."

"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"

Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."

Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"

"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"

"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."

It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.

"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."

"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.

"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.

"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.

The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.

Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.

"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"

Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"

"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."

You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.

"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"

"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"

"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.

"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.

"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."

"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.

"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."

"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.

"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.

Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.

What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.

You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.

"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.

"'m, I love you too."

Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.

"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.

"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."

He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"

You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.

"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."

You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.

"Yoon?"

"Mm."

"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.

"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.

"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.

"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.

You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.

"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."

Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.

"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."

His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.

"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."

Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.

"But...you haven't seen me–"

"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."

"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."

Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.

"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.

Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.

"Can I?"

You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.

With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.

"Fuck," you swear.

"Feeling good?"

All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.

"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.

"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"

He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.

Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.

"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."

"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"

Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.

Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.

You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.

"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.

"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."

Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"

"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.

"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.

"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.

"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.

"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."

"Really? You're not just teasing me?"

Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.

"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.

Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.

"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.

Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.

"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."

Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.

"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."

"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"

Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.

"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."

"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"

"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."

"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.

"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.

This is what love feels like.

a/n: LMK what you think 🥰

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts imagine #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts au #fic:whatlovefeelslike #kookslastbutton

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zorosdimples · 8 months

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mdni. reader has breasts. virgin ga ming my beloved <3 i may write additional parts!

“is this okay?” ga ming asks breathlessly, broad hands slipping beneath your shirt to trace your curves. you’re straddling his waist, running your fingers through his tousled hair, pulled down between feverish kisses.

“more than okay. in fact,” you peel off you shirt then grasp his wrists, slowly dragging them up until his palms cup your exposed breasts, “this is even better.”

“oh,” he breathes.

his eyes are wide—spilled honey, sticky sweetness seeping into your bones. he sits in awe for a moment before gently squeezing, gaze darting up to yours, asking permission. the smile that curls your lips encourages him; he pinches your nipples as you pull him in for a scorching kiss.

you decide to play with the throbbing tent in ga ming’s pants, grinding down on him, lapping at and swallowing up each of his needy moans. his touch moves from your breasts to rest on your ass—until he jerks away as though burned.

“shit, i didn’t ask. i’m so sor—”

you cut him off by brushing your lips against the freckle that dots his neck; he shivers. “you can touch me wherever you want,” you whisper against his skin.

ga ming flushes at your words, cheeks and ears turning a dusky rose. his hands drift back down to your ass and knead the flesh. you whimper at the sensation and he bucks up against you before chasing your lips. he lazily bounces you on his lap, spit dribbling past his lips and smearing, glistening on your chin. you both speed up your movements, panting into each other’s mouths.

“this feels—oh, archons,” he whines through gritted teeth before his cock twitches and wetness soaks through your clothes.

his neck is scarlet and he throws an arm across his face. “gah, i can’t believe i did that,” ga ming huffs. “sorry.”

you tug at his arm before standing up. “what are you apologizing for?” you shimmy out of your shorts and underwear and watch his adam’s apple bob. “we’re just getting started.”

#pls don’t flame the writing i wrote it quickly #gaming x reader #ga ming x reader #ga ming <3

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estrella-etoile · 8 months

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I think that when the heavens are returned to normal, Xie Lian starts a little cultivation temple up there. He figures it's never a bad time to keep up good cultivation practices, to help gods keep true to the path. One of the rules is godly powers stay at the door.

Feng Xin and Quan Yizhen are the first to join him, never missing a single combat session. Feng Xin is still in awe of how outclassed he was during the final showdown, and he wants to get better. Quan Yizhen just loves to fight, and Xie Lian has become his second favorite person. He still loses, but the matches are excitingly close.

Pei Xiu joins next, nearly as soon as his detention as a mortal has been lifted. He's never fought with General Hua, and still can't believe that the man who saved his life is right there and beat the crap out of the Emperor.

Pei Ming wants to know what all the hubbub is about. He's a martial god too, who are these younguns who are forgetting this? He has a lot of fun, but no one misses the frustration on his face that he can't hold a candle to Xie Lian. He vows to train harder (but often gets distracted by beautiful ladies).

Lang Qianqiu was hesitant at first. He is worried his old Master would bear some grudge (and vice versa), but more and more, he finds himself slipping into calling Xie Lian "guoshi", and it doesn't feel so weird on his tongue. In fact, it's starting to feel nice again.

Mu Qing holds off as long as he can. He calls the practice a waste of time, claims that the martial gods are all shirking their duties by participating. Okay fine. He guesses he will participate too. His complaints are met with a patient smile by Xie Lian and a lot of swearwords by Feng Xin. No one allows Mu Qing and Feng Xin to spar, afraid of the damage to the capital, and to being even more in debt to Hua Cheng.

Once in a blue moon, Hua Cheng himself joins! Those are the days that only Quan Yizhen volunteers to spar. No one else dares to join, but everyone hides nearby to watch. Someone boldly asks Hua Cheng why he no longer offers up his own ashes should he lose.

Hua Cheng simply says, "They are in a place that I will not take them from, and I hope that they remain in that place for as long as the world turns."

Xie Lian blushes, and clutches the ring so near his heart.

#tgcf storytelling #tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian #kinda meta? but not really #a cute little post-canon tale #what if xie lian opened a temple in heaven #a lot of cute interactions is what #tgcf meta #tgcf spoilers

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luvt0kki · 9 months

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004 | burning desire

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ s.w.m masterlist ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ taglist ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧

I don't wanna know, if you're playing me Keep it on the low Cause my heart can't take it anymore And if you creeping, please don't let it show

🎧: creepin' - the Weeknd

previous | 004| next

pairings: ot8 x f!reader ( K.Y.S x reader)

w.c : 7.7 k ( sorry for any errors)

cw: mature, ,minors do not interact, nsfw, reader is afab, mentions of assassination, hinted violence, slow burn ( for Wooyoung), polyamory, smut ahead ,oral, size kink, voyeurism, peeping Tom! Wooyoung, light bondage, eavesdropping, Mingi’s nickname for reader is baby, masturbation, Yeosang is very sweet here, some humor ahead, San is a cutie as always, hinted San smut, hinted San, Ming x reader, Wooyoung is even more confused now BUT HE"S GETTING CLOSE TO THE TRUTH

REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n : CHAPTER 4! To keep me going and support this series, make sure to leave comments about your thoughts and reactions! You can do this in my askbox too huhu! I hope you guys like this chapter and I know this was a very quick update after chapter 3! The next update may be after New Years!!! Thank you so much for reading my series!!!

This chapter is dedicated to ୨୧ @songmingisthighs ୨୧ (for helping me build ideas for inspo for the next chapters and fangirling with me. It really kept me inspired and excited to write more chapters. I included those gifs for u <3 )

It’s been almost three weeks since you’ve returned, 20 days to be exact, Wooyoung counted. 20 days and he’s still not over his crush on you. Was it even a crush anymore at this point?

“Hey focus.” Yeosang’s voice snapped him out of his many spirals over you.

The former Prince’s gloved fist came close to his face and Wooyoung quickly raised both his arms to block the jab.

“I’m focused.”

“No, you’re not.” Yeosang jabbed him on his side that his friend failed to evade which just led to one blow to another and before he knew it Wooyoung was on the floor again for the third time since their sparring session started.

“You’re probably thinking too much.” Your voice echoed in the gym as you approached them on the black padded boxing ring. “That’s why your movements are slow.”

You gave the two handsome men a quick look over. Their skin glistened with perspiration and they both had their boxing gloves on. Wooyoung sported a loose tank top which showed off his toned arms while Yeosang wore a compression shirt that only accentuated his statuesque physique. His muscles were getting bigger…and among the members Yeosang and San were the ones who built and grew muscle quickly due to genetics, and god, you loved those genetics.

“Good morning, darling.” Yeosang hummed with that princely smile of his and you couldn’t help the warmth that bloomed in your cheeks at his term of endearment for you.

“Morning, Yeosang. Wooyoung.” You nodded in the other man’s direction whose chest was rising and falling fast as he caught his breath.

“Why don’t you give him a few pointers?” Yeosang wiped the sweat on his brow with his arm before heading towards where you were at the edge of the sparring ring.

You weren’t busy.

Wooyoung watched as you ducked beneath the foamed barriers, your eyes briefly meeting his as you passed Yeosang who leaned over to whisper something. You stared at Wooyoung as Yeosang’s deep smooth voice vibrated in your ears.

“Go easy on him, dear.”

You smirked a little at that before slipping off your trainers and sauntering towards Wooyoung with a false aura of ease to make sure his defenses were low.

“No gloves?” Wooyoung raised a brow as he stood up, not backing down on the challenge. He knew he should be more alert with you, especially with San said about your hand-to-hand combat mastery.

“Don’t need them.” You shrugged, stretching and swinging your arms and body to get your body a little warm.

Yeosang sat on the exercise bench in the gym that looked over the ring, curious to how this interaction would turn out.

“Don’t go easy on me.” You told him with a smile that he couldn’t read, it was alluring and sweet despite the fact you two were going to be throwing hands at each other.

“And don’t go easy on me.” He huffed, raising his gloved hands to shield his face and getting into stance whilst trying to ignore how pretty you looked in a simple tee and gym shorts with these cute strings on each side that scrunched them up in a pretty and sexy way. “I’m sure I can handle it.”

You only nodded and pulled the hem of your slim-fit tee down.

“Oh, you guys are sparring.” The sweet gentle voice of the vice-captain reached everyone’s ears and you glanced at the gym entrance to see the ethereally handsome man enter in a black tank top and matching sweats. “Morning, Y/N.” He smiled your way.

Wooyoung took this as a chance to attack but he really didn’t want to hit you in any way. His intention was to just jab lightly at your shoulder while you’re distracted.

With quick precision, as he learned from San, he swung your way, sure that he was gonna get a lick in. If you were supposed to be a master combatant, shouldn’t you know not to take your eyes off your opponent? He thought to himself as he focused.

In less than a second, you broke away from Seonghwa’s gaze and stopped Wooyoung’s advance by grabbing the gloved hand that came your way and twisted it to the side, redirecting it. Wooyoung couldn’t process what happened next as you held onto the hand you caught and your legs hooked around his neck, next thing he knew his world spun as he was propelled onto his back.

The loud smack of his back against the ring floor bounced off the walls so satisfyingly as he let out a grunt at the sudden impact. He couldn’t even move. Your legs had him in a headlock, his chin was nuzzled into the back of your slightly bent knee and your ankles were crossed over each other while your upper body and hands trapped his right arm in an arm lock.

You kept him there for a bit, letting him struggle against your hold before releasing him and all the oxygen he needed rushed into his lungs.

Wooyoung was in shock. It had happened so fast. Then it sunk in that your legs had locked his head in, your soft skin, and your pillowy thighs. Had he passed out in your chokehold, it would’ve been a good way to go.

“That’s our girl.” Seonghwa smiled proudly, he and Yeosang applauding your quick response to Wooyoung’s attempt at an attack.

You were up on your feet as if nothing just happened, and you glanced down at Wooyoung, rather enjoying the breathless look on his handsome face. He questioned how he was kind of turned on at how easily you countered him and how gorgeous you looked staring down at him. God, what was wrong with him?

You held your hand out.

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed onto it letting you help him up.

“You need to train with Sannie more.” You chuckled once he was balanced on his two feet. “There were at least three ways you could’ve countered my attack.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Woo,” Seonghwa reassured him, heading towards the weights rack. “It took a while for Yeosang and I to be able to learn one of those counterattacks.”

You gave Wooyoung a reassuring caress on his arm, the gentle touch contrasting with how easily you threw him to the ground before you stepped out of the ring.

Wooyoung needed to improve a lot before he could spar with you.

“What will you be doing today?” Yeosang asked as he hung his towel over the chair, heading back to the ring.

“Will lift some weights. It’s a lower body day.”

“If you need help stretching out later, I’ll be glad to help.”

Wooyoung couldn’t really hear the conversation from where he was but Seonghwa could, and the Vice Captain scoffed at Yeosang’s response. To anyone else, it sounded like a normal gym conversation, and also, whatever the former Prince said always sounded innocent. But you and most of the members knew better.

“Unless she wants to do cardio with me,” Seonghwa suggested, setting up the weights on the barbell.

“Both of you calm down and focus on your workouts.” You shook your head, smiling to yourself at their antics.

“Focus? With you in those shorts?” Yeosang chuckled. “If San was here, he’d offer to spot you. Anyways, when you’re done, you know where to find me.” He headed back to Wooyoung who had begun frowning while he watched the three of you, not liking that he was left out of the conversation.

“Were you guys dissing me?” He asked when Yeosang stood in front of him again.

“Woo, just because you’re not included in the conversation it doesn’t mean that it's about you.”

Wooyoung gasped dramatically. “You mean to say you’re all not obsessed with me?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Keep your guard up, Woo. We need to train you to be good enough to counter some of Y/N’s attacks.”

“Only some?”

“The only two people in this crew who can go head to head with Y/N and actually make her break a sweat is San and Hongjoong.” Yeosang readjusted his gloves before raising his fists to shield his face. “Now that you’ve experienced her skill firsthand, focus.”

...

Wooyoung to put it bluntly was stressed. Frustrated too. He didn’t think he was that bad at hand-to-hand combat. He was humbled greatly by you and he was annoyed because today, it’s like he hasn’t improved at all. He kept getting caught off guard by Yeosang, surprised that he was this good at unarmed combat and even more deadly with his archery skills.

He needed San to give him more pointers and make their sessions more frequent if he was going to improve before they arrived at their next destination.

He let out a deep heavy sigh as he trudged back to the crew's deck to get his towel and fresh set of clothes in his room before he headed to the showers. Maybe he’ll give himself an ice bath. After his and Yeosang’s session, he stayed back to spend time venting out his anger on the punching bag, and now his muscles kind of ached.

Towel draped over one shoulder and his clothes tucked under his arm, he headed towards the showers.

You wrapped your towel tight around your body, swearing to yourself for forgetting your clothes back in your room and as carefully as you could walked barefoot on the shower room tiles.

“Ah!” You squeaked, feeling the ball of your foot slide against the tile and lose balance. Some kind of assassin you were. Even your clumsiness was a mystery to you.

But you didn’t feel the hard cold and wet floor of the showers, you felt nothing but warmth in a gentle hold.

Wooyoung stared at your face. Your eyes were tightly shut as you awaited the impact of your fall if he hadn’t caught you. He held you close and secure to him, his arms wrapped around your body clad only in a soft fluffy towel. He didn’t know if he was lucky or unlucky to be in this situation. You smelled so nice too. The sweet peach and coconut scent of your body wash filled his senses, and your skin was glistening from still being slightly damp from your shower. Maybe he was lucky.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, his eyes shifting from your face and the top edge of your towel wrapped around your chest.

“Woo?” You had said his name so softly with surprise that it made his heart skip a beat and butterflies flutter in his stomach. Your eyes blinked open to see the man who saved you from hurting yourself.

“Hi.” His voice was so gentle it took you aback.

“H-hi.” You stuttered out.

You both stared into each other's eyes for a while before you cleared your throat, feeling the cold air kiss your skin and make you shiver, making you all too aware of how only a towel separated the two of you.

“It’s cold. I forgot my clothes in my room.” You looked away.

It sunk in with Wooyoung that if the towel peeled off of you, he’d see everything. God, he’d see your pretty body before him and just knew it’d be better than he has ever imagined during his late nights plagued with your visage and the sounds you made when Mingi fucked you, and that first night he saw you on your knees between the gunner's thighs, head bobbing up and down his cock.

“Oh, sorry.” He gently helped you to your feet, making sure you were well-balanced before reluctantly letting you go. He had to control himself. You were Mingi’s. “Be careful, okay? Don’t want you to hurt that pretty self of yours.”

That made you smile. “Thanks, Woo.” You stood on your tippy toes and pressed your lips quickly on his cheek to show him how thankful you were before taking small steps to go to your room.

Wooyoung watched you leave. The touch of your lips on his cheek lingered. Were you that friendly with all of them? He has noticed some very odd…well not odd, unorthodox? Interactions between you and the other crew members. All eight of you seemed so closed knit and when those interactions happened, Mingi didn’t blink an eye or care.

Like how he had walked in on you once in Hongjoong’s office sat on the Captain’s lap by his desk while you two went over some maps and information or how you and Seonghwa would be in the lounge on some afternoons with your legs splayed across his lap while you both read your books in silence.

Does Mingi share you? He shook his head at the thought finding it absurd as the hot water sprayed down on him as he showered.

That was ridiculous. The two of you were attached to the hip almost all the time and some mornings you left his room and the others he left yours. It wasn’t making sense.

He just concluded that all of you have gotten really close and comfy over the time you all had been together as a crew. Being stuck on a ship most of the time and only ever having each other, it made sense that you all got close. Really close in a way it confused him. It still felt like there was something hidden from him even though it was staring him right in the face.

The sound of the shared shower room door sliding open and closing shook him from his thoughts, and from the shower stall he was in, he glanced at who entered, his eyes quickly catching the bright pink head that sauntered in.

“Oh, hey, Woo.” Mingi greeted, taking the shower stall next to him, the stainless steel dividers separating the two.

Wooyoung didn’t care much back then whenever someone entered the shower room but ever since you returned and he found out you have your toiletries in one of the three stalls, he has been careful. First of all, he didn’t want to invade your privacy and lastly, he didn’t want to shower in the stall next to you and get a raging hard-on at the thought of just a partition between the two of you.

Mingi’s bare shoulders and chest peaked over the top of the partition due to his height and his head was only mere inches away from the shower head. If you had been in the stall next to Wooyoung, he was sure only the top of your head could be seen.

“Hey, man.” Wooyoung greeted your lover back, continuing to shampoo his hair.

“Heard Y/N kicked your ass in less than a second.” He teased, turning the knob of the shower with a squeak.

“Ugh, who told you?” Wooyoung sulked a little.

“Seonghwa.” He snickered. “Wish I was there to see it. It’s sexy when she does that.”

“It’s like everything she does turns you on.” Wooyoung bit back, annoyed with the unprovoked teasing he was receiving.

“Can you blame me?”

Wooyoung couldn’t.

Glancing over at Mingi, he was met with a victorious smirk on the man’s face. He was smug that Wooyoung had no snappy remark at what he had said.

He glared at him before he rolled his eyes and began rinsing his hair a little roughly.

“Ugh, could you guys, at least keep it down? You guys fuck like bunnies, I swear to god. Don’t you know some people, also known as me, need to sleep?”

Mingi raised his brow as he grinned.

“So you could hear us, huh?”

Fuck.

The gunner faced his back to the spray of water and continued to tease his friend. “Do you get hard at the sound of us fucking, Woo? I mean if you do, I can't blame you. She moans so pretty doesn’t she?”

Internally, Wooyoung answered yes to all those questions but he just continued to rinse himself and think of a way to shut the tall man up.

“She tastes really good too.” He was bragging now and happily doing so. You were his baby. His one and only, of course, he wanted to show you off. Plus, knowing that Wooyoung doesn’t know the whole truth about you and the crew, he wanted to kind of enjoy the idea that you were entirely his (not that he didn’t like sharing you with the rest). “You’ve seen how pretty her pussy is, right? It was kinda entertaining, really, how you were so entranced by my baby before you knew that she was mine.”

Wooyoung was too frustrated and now extremely annoyed to reply back. He didn’t even know what to reply. His silence and lack of response probably exposed the truth of his desire for you.

“Tell me, Woo,” Mingi leaned his arms on the top of the partition and Wooyoung made the mistake of meeting the man’s eyes that were possessive yet teasing. “Do you want to fuck my girl?”

Wooyoung clenched his jaw.

The only thing that could be heard in the shower room right now was the collision of the rain of water against the bathroom tiles as they stared each other down.

Yes. He wanted to. He really fucking wanted to.

What the fuck does Mingi even want him to say?

“Don’t you think it’s a bit disrespectful to be offering your girlfriend up like that? Like she’s yours to give and take?” Wooyoung didn’t mean to attack Mingi with such words and it was clear what he said took him aback.

Was he going to get punched right now?

“What if it was an invitation?”

Wooyoung’s head snapped in Mingi’s direction, giving the man the reaction he wanted.

“W-what?”

Mingi let the silence between them sit for a while, knowing that the cogs in Wooyoung’s head were malfunctioning right now before laughing heartily.

“I’m just kidding. Wow. Didn’t think you’d take me so seriously. I know you have a crush on her, that’s okay, man. Everyone else does.”

Wooyoung remained silent, opting to just nod and continue washing up while Mingi’s last three words echoed over and over in his head.

Everyone else does.

It’s like what Yeosang said, “And if you’re a little attracted to her it’s fine. We all are.”

They showered in silence after, Wooyoung finished first, dried himself, and changed into a fresh set of clothes before heading out into the hall, the stupid hall where he could hear you across his room and run into you in the mornings or late nights when you’d get a midnight snack.

Sometimes he would think of that time you fed him that strawberry and how honey-like your voice was when you praised him. Then his imagination would go wild as he thought about what if he had kissed you then and there, and what if he touched you and felt every curve of your beautiful body as your tongues fought for dominance with one another.

He craved the same intimacy you shared with the other members. The same one where a single glance could tell them how you felt, where knowing smiles were exchanged across rooms or the dining table like you were passing secret notes to one another under the table, and the same intimacy you had with Mingi.

Wooyoung sighed as his crush on you only worsened by the day and he hoped that playing the video game Jongho and San asked him to join this afternoon could help him remain distracted from thoughts of you, specifically of how fragile you were in his arms earlier in the showers.

Approaching the lounge, he heard soft giggles and low voices, what could be assumed to be maybe a light-hearted conversation between two people. He recognized your voice anywhere and without announcing his presence, wanting to act aloof, he walked into the lounge.

The back of the couch faced him and he couldn’t see you and the person you were talking to as he approached.

“What are you doing?” you giggled, feeling gentle hands caress your sides, the other sliding under your top to feel the skin of your stomach with the intention to travel lower.

Wooyoung paused.

Your voice was gentle and void of any seriousness that your line of work in the past had trained you to become. Yeosang had told him yesterday when they were both hanging out on the upper deck that you could only ever feel safe around them. With them, your defenses were down and you could just be…well….you.

It was heartwarming and bittersweet. It's no wonder Mingi was so protective of you and San too...wait-

Was Mingi already with you? Wasn’t he still in the showers?

Wooyoung’s questions were answered by a broad back finally peeking over the back frame of the couch as the two of you playfully wrestled. He blinked for a bit wondering if his eyes were betraying him because he was pretty sure Mingi’s short hair was pink.

“You look so cute” The man sighed with adoration, the only part of you that could be seen as you lay on the couch was your gentle hand on the back of his neck.

“Sannie…”

Wooyoung could imagine the way you smiled when San’s name fell from your lips but the former assassin above you sensed another presence in the room. Cat-like eyes looked his way and for some reason, Wooyoung felt like he walked into something he shouldn’t have.

“Sannie?” You sat up wondering why he had gone silent.

You followed his gaze and saw Wooyoung by the entryway of the lounge.

The man stared at you both for a while, noticing how San’s hair stuck out in different directions and how his lips were slightly pinker than usual. Your lips were red and swollen like the times he’d see you after you and Mingi…

“I hope I’m not interrupting.” He tried to play his surprise off as if it was a joke but inside he was screaming 'What the fuck? What the fuck?', like a broken record.

“Oh, no.” San immediately responded, sitting on the couch properly from the position he had been in, which underneath the blanket was between your legs with his pelvis pressed to your core. “Not at all.”

“Will Y/N join us?” Wooyoung walked on over to the L-shaped couch, taking note that the two of you were under the same fluffy blanket.

“I won’t be playing. Just watching for a bit.” You smiled, letting your hand that had been playing with San’s hair drop while the other slipped from under his sweats. "I have to help Hongjoong and Seonghwa with some data later.”

San kept his practiced smile to not alert Wooyoung of what you two were doing under the blanket til he showed up. He was a bit annoyed to have been interrupted. Your dainty fingers had been wrapped around his hardening cock and were stroking him while his own fingers had been massaging your sensitive clit through your cotton panties. He even felt how your growing arousal had begun to seep through the fabric.

For now, San just readjusted your positions while still remaining under the cover of the large blanket, hiding his hard cock and practicing self-control.

Wooyoung half expected San to detach himself from you when Jongho arrived who didn’t blink an eye at yours and San’s public displays of affection, which looked more than platonic. Instead, San had you snuggled in his arms with his chin resting atop of your head as he fiddled with the buttons on the controller, trying to beat him and Jongho at a retro street racing game.

This was one of those instances that Wooyoung wondered if there was something more going on between you and San that Mingi wasn’t aware of. But then again, Mingi never batted an eye when Jongho called you princess, when Seonghwa moved the hair from your face with loving eyes, or when Yunho embraced you from behind when you were going over things with Hongjoong and Hwa on the command deck.

But apart from all these inconsistencies, well, odd behavior, Wooyoung couldn’t remove from his head how he had come in contact with you twice today. First at the gym and then at the showers with your skin glistening, the scent of peach coconut body wash, and the kiss you left on his cheek as a thanks for saving you from your fall.

God, he sounded like a teenager. He never really had a serious relationship back on Jupiter, he just messed around…a lot. Bless the maids that lost their jobs in the manor because he got caught fucking them…and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

But he’s never wanted anyone as badly as he wanted you.

That night, like almost every other night, when he wasn’t missing home or the security of his life before, he was consumed by thoughts of you. Now that he had a new image of you stuck in his head (you in that fluffy towel and nothing else), he had new… jacking-off material.

Maybe to top it off tonight, he’d leave his door just a peep so he could hear you and Mingi again. You two didn’t fuck at all this week, so he’s pretty sure something might happen tonight especially since Mingi cornered him in the shower and fucking showed off.

Should he take a little peek?

With the way the gunner teased him, it’s like he wanted him to watch the two of you.

As if he was psychic, Wooyoung heard soft whimpering coming from your room. Your sweet alluring sounds.

Quietly, bare feet on the cold floor he made his way to his door. The hallway was dark now since the main lights automatically switched off at 1:30 am to conserve energy on the ship, the only thing that illuminated the hall were these color-changing dim strips of light near along the topmost part of the walls.

Tip-toeing across, he wanted to scoff at how your door was open ajar. ‘Fuck you, man.’ He swore at Mingi in his head. He really wanted to make him suffer. If Mingi wanted him to watch so badly, then don’t mind if he does. Knowing the cocky smug bastard, he probably gets off on the idea of someone watching him fuck you but can’t touch you.

Gluing himself as close as possible to the wall next to your door, he decided to take a peek.

Immediately his cock throbbed at the new never before seen sight.

Ivory silk that shimmered in the dim light of your bedroom was tied to your headboard and they decorated your wrists that were above your head. He had wondered why your sounds were quieter this time around and he knew why now. Smooth silk was between your lips.

He felt his mouth water.

The little night slip covering yet showing the curves of your body was of the same silk and the thin straps had already slipped from your shoulders, the neckline dangerously low and close to letting your tits spill out. He could see the hardened peaks beneath the fabric and how the soft flesh jiggled when you’d wriggle away from the head buried between your thighs.

Your thighs were over thick broad shoulders and seeing the way you were writhing from the pleasure of the lucky tongue lapping up your essence that he imagined to be nectar from the gods, he knew you were close to coming undone. Which usually meant, Mingi was going to fuck you next. Wooyoung’s gotta give it to the gunner for being such a generous lover and indulging in foreplay.

“Mhmf!” Your pitch got higher, your wrists now tugging at the restraints. Your soft pillowy thighs were trembling and trying to close from the unrelenting attack on your heat. Wooyoung could hear the sloppy wet slurping of the man eating you out and his cock was getting harder and harder at the new visual. So you liked getting tied up? That’s hot.

He palmed himself through his cotton pajama pants, biting his lip hard to hold back any sounds he could make and glancing at the hall making sure no one was up before returning his gaze to your lingerie-clad body.

Your hips tried to wriggle away from your lover’s tongue but his hands were hooked around your thighs to keep you from getting away. You watched as his pretty face indulged in your cunt, happily and greedily lapping and dipping his tongue in your heat, and nipping and sucking on your clit. The soft gag around your mouth prevented you from moaning out his name and you could only whine and whimper your pleas and sounds of pleasure.

The soft silk grazed over your sensitive nipples the more you rustled and tugged on the restraints, your core growing unbearably tight and your breath quickening as he slurped and sucked at your sensitive bud. Then you saw white. Your back arched off the bed as his assault on your orgasming pussy didn’t stop. He liked to push you over the edge, not as cruel as Hongjoong does but just enough to make you hazy.

Not wanting to overdo it, your lover detached his lips from your cunt, and consumed with such desire, he hovered over you, covering you with his beefy muscular upper body, and lowered the silk gag to crash his lips onto yours. You moaned into his mouth, tasting yourself on your tongue, and felt your walls tightening around nothing as he did. With one hand, he untied the silk ribbon from the headboard, letting it remain tied around your wrists yet freeing you from the restraint, finally letting you touch him.

“You’re so beautiful like this, my darling.” He spoke softly in between kisses. “I love dressing you in the prettiest things and fucking you in them.”

'Oh, god, his voice', you thought. That honey-like deep voice that made you believe sweet nothings belonged on his lips.

“This fabric is from the finest of silks in Jupiter.” He cupped your breast through the smooth thin lingerie. “When we made our stop in my home, I had to get something for my darling.” You bit your lip when he ghosted his thumb over your perked nipple. “This is silk made for a queen.”

He then sucked at your lower lip before resting his forehead against yours to savor this moment between the two of you.

“You didn’t have to...” You blushed beneath his intense gaze, his eyes so beautiful and entrancing. “I don’t need things like these—ah!”

You were cut off when his hot and hard length slotted between your lips, the man before you clicking his tongue at your words. “My beautiful love deserves beautiful things.” You let out a soft whine when you felt him rub his bulbous hot tip between your folds, covering himself in your slick. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you. Nor desired anyone as I desire you."

“P-please,” you whimpered, squeezing his shoulders as the ache for friction was getting more intense. “I love you...please…I need you.”

You’d never ever get tired of any of your lovers telling you how much they loved you. You didn’t even know what you did to deserve not only one but seven men who loved you. After all the things you’ve done in your line work…you were somehow blessed with seven people you’d protect and die for. With them, you weren’t the girl you were in the academy. They made you feel as if your past was nothing but a nightmare.

“My sweet girl.” He cooed, his forehead pressed against yours as he tapped the head of cock on your clit. Your arms wrapped around his back, feeling the need to hold onto him because if you didn’t you felt like you wouldn’t be able to take the painful need throbbing inside you. “So tough and strong.” He kissed your neck, holding your hips still so he could rock his length back and forth your slit, the teasing close to making you cry. “But deep down, you want to be taken care of.”

“Please…” you begged, voice cracking with desire.

The sound made Wooyoung squeeze his cock tighter, slowly pumping himself to the sight of you through the mirror in your room where he could see the side view of your body. One of your breasts was no longer covered by the pretty silk lingerie and the ribbons tied on your wrist flowed so prettily, something about it made the whole view before him so sinful and dare he say, beautiful?

He watched as the hips between your legs connected with yours.

You moaned so obscenely when his hot tip pushed through your entrance and how his thick hot girth, stretched you out.

“Oh, Yeo.”

Wooyoung stopped the steady and slow rhythm of his hand. Did he hear that right? There was no fucking way.

“Fuck, you’re so thick.” You threw your head back, feeling him bottom out inside of you, his pretty moans music to your ears as he felt your velvety walls embrace him.

“Yeah? Look at how gorgeously split you are by my cock.”

You listened to him and glanced down, seeing the defined v-line of his hips and chiseled abdomen first before letting your gaze fall to where you two were connected. Your lower lips were parted and wrapped around him. He wasn’t as long as Mingi and Yunho but, god, he was thick and fitted inside of you like a glove.

“Come here, darling.” He wrapped his arms around you, changing your positions so he was lying down while you were sat atop of him, fully sunk onto his cock.

Wooyoung had been too distracted by you that he didn’t notice that the naked man that you were straddling and who was eating you out moments before was not the pink-haired gunner asshole who teased him earlier…it was his best friend.

“Be a good girl and ride me.” Yeosang caressed your sides before hooking a finger on the neckline of the silk slip and tugging it lower to reveal your breasts.

You slipped your arms from the straps, the lingerie he bought you now bunched at your hips while you placed your hands behind you and on his thighs as you slowly rolled your hips.

“Oh darling,” Yeosang moaned, watching you slowly raise your hips and lower them giving him a show of how his cock disappeared in and out of your tight heat, wetting him with your slick.

You bit your lip slowly adjusting to the width of him and once you felt your walls accommodate him more, you began to bounce your hips. You were lost in the way his cock rubbed your insides with each rock and bounce. His hands caressed your sides and squeezed your breasts, your moans and his messily harmonizing together along with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Wooyoung’s cock still throbbed and he knew it was wrong that he was even more turned on at the fact that you were fucking Yeosang. Did Mingi mean what he said when he jested earlier? About fucking you? Did he actually share you?

Maybe if he wasn’t so fucking horny he would’ve stopped touching himself at the sight of you fucking someone who wasn’t Mingi. Were you seeing Yeosang behind Mingi’s back?

He didn’t really care about those things right now, not when your tits bounced so fucking prettily as you rode Yeosang. Why did you look so fucking good? With his best friend lying down, he had a full view of your body, and the fact that the lingerie was still somewhat on you, made him continue to pump his length, matching his rhythm to yours.

Yeosang wasn’t much of a dirty talker when you two spent nights together but his pretty voice and the special timbre he had even his panting and moaning made up for it. He had such a tone to him that made you shiver and ache for him all the same. He had the prettiest moans among your lovers.

“Fu—oh. Fuck,” Yeosang managed to say when he caught a glimpse of a sheer ring of white coating the base of his cock, Wooyoung had to squint but when he saw it his hand sped up. He couldn’t believe he was jacking off to you fucking yourself on his best friend’s cock.

“Yeo…” you whimpered, throwing your head back at how good he felt inside of you and Wooyoung almost moaned out loud with how delectable you looked head thrown back in pleasure and rolling your hips.

He needed to fuck you. God, he didn’t know how long he could take anymore. Would Yeosang stop him if he were to walk in right now? No, he couldn’t do that but the sinful smack of your skin against Yeosang’s as you bounced on his cock was making any form of self control almost impossible to find.

“Look at you,” Yeosang hummed, swiping his thumb on the white cream of your arousal before rolling your clit beneath his fingertip. “Taking me so prettily.”

You could only moan in response, the stimulation on your clit as his cock deliciously scraped your insides making your head spin. Your hips and thighs worked tirelessly to continue the rolling waves of mind-numbing pleasure, and your lover beneath you looked up at you with such desire and adoration in his eyes, that it made you a little shy. Only they could make you feel this way.

You gasped when Yeosang gripped your hips tighter and began to fuck into you at a fast pace, the wet obscene smacking becoming louder as he thrust strong and deep. You almost fell forward at the sudden change of pace and you cried out at how indescribably good it felt.

“Fuck, Yeo. You feel so good.” He sat up, cradling your back and wrapping your legs around his waist as he continued to fuck you. The new position allowed his cock to dive deeper, hitting your g-spot and making you melt against him.

You held onto him for dear life, your head resting on his shoulder.

Wooyoung whimpered softly in disappointment that the sight of your tits and pussy were covered now by Yeosang’s bulging muscular back which had the silk ribbons around your wrists flowing down against them as you clawed at his skin.

Good thing he was close. He was so fucking close.

He glanced at the mirror once more, biting his lip harder when he saw the way Yeosang’s hips were driving into your pussy. Why couldn’t that be him?

He squeezed his cock harder and increased his pace, he was going to cum. Your breasts were bouncing with each thrust and he could see how your nipples brushed Yeosang’s chest. He imagined what that would feel like and how tight your pussy would feel around his cock, how it would squeeze him, how it would feel, hot wet, and inviting—

Wooyoung’s eyes flickered to your face wanting to cum at the sight of your blissed-out expression but his heart stopped when his eyes met your heavy-lidded ones with pupils blown in lust.

Your lips were loosely pressed against Yeosang’s shoulder as he pounded into you when you suddenly met a pair of eyes by the door, peering in. If it had been any of your lovers, they would have shamelessly walked in and watched. So...who?

Vision focusing and adjusting to the dark, you made out the strong jawline and the unmistakable shape of those eyes to be none other than Jung Wooyoung. Yeosang’s best friend.

Wooyoung saw how your brows furrowed at his presence and how your eyes glanced down, finding his hand that was wrapped around his cock, tip red and angry, leaking with precum.

“Fuck.” Yeosang swore when felt your walls squeeze him, not knowing it was because you had noticed Wooyoung by the door.

You never knew you’d be turned on by the idea of being watched til it was teased out of you by your lovers. It had started when San had caught you and Mingi when your relationship with him had reached the three-month milestone. Mingi being a switch had enjoyed teasing both you and San that night…seeing Wooyoung by the door, reminded you a little bit of how cute Sannie was all hard and frozen by the door that very night.

Smirking a little, a wicked idea popped into your head.

Running your hands through Yeosang’s hair, you kissed and moaned against his neck just a tad bit louder, all that while keeping your gaze locked with Wooyoung’s.

“You close, my love?” You purred into Yeosang’s ear, soft yet audible enough for the man by the door to hear.

Wooyoung clenched his teeth harder, fighting back his moans as his eyes were pleading for release while imagining his cock was in you instead of his hand. You weren’t making this easier for him.

Yeosang groaned at the way your term of endearment for him rolled off your tongue so seductively. “Mhm.” He hummed in response, panting as he chased both yours and his releases.

“You’re making me feel so good.” You held him tighter, his hands guiding your hips to match his movements. Your lustful drunk-like stare remained on Wooyoung and he couldn’t tear his own eyes from you. “I want you to fill me up.”

A moan almost escaped Wooyoung at that. Why were you looking at him when you said that? It was painful enough to fist his cock in secret while watching someone else fuck you but now this? This was some new kind of torture.

“Y-Yeo,” your eyes shut in bliss while your mouth parted in a breathless and soundless moan, while your lover spurred on by your words, moved with passion to bring you both to ecstasy.

Yeosang’s pants and whines always were like a melody you can never get out of your head. You wondered, despite your state of a daze, if he knew how weak you were for his comfort and his warmth. His gentleness and affection were different. They all loved you in their own ways, different but it was love all the same.

His moans became higher in pitch as he lost himself and his hold on your hips tightened. You couldn’t hold back all the sounds that left you as he brought you to climax, the rhythm of his hips getting faster, the resounding smacks bouncing off the walls. Your eyes locked with Wooyoung’s once more before they shut as you were pushed over the edge. Your body arched into Yeosang's as you gasped, unable to stop the trembling of your hips as your head went blank with pleasure.

You felt your release drip down your pulsing heat and made a mess on his cock that hasn’t ceased its assault on your spamming cunt. “That’s my darling. My sweet darling.” He cooed over and over til his own hips stilled. He slammed into you hard one last time as a strangled moan left him.

Wooyoung bit his lip hard enough to draw blood as he felt the pressure at the base of his spine explode and release into his hand. The sight of his milky white release made your mouth water and you couldn’t help the thought that popped in your head. How it was such a waste for his cum to not be on you or in you. Maybe it was just your orgasm brain playing tricks on you and not making you think straight but you held onto your lover tighter, feeling his release warm your insides.

Yeosang laid you down gently on the bed, not detaching himself from you as he peppered kisses all over your chest as if worshipping you and thanking you.

You moved your head a little from the pillow to look at the door, only to find that the little peeping Tom had disappeared. Before you could feel the growing hint of disappointment that the new crew member was gone, you were pulled away from your thoughts by Yeosang. You gasped softly when he took your left breast in his warm mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue on your sensitive peak as he kept his pelvis pressed to yours to keep his release inside of you.

Wooyoung retreated to his room and locked the door, the post-nut clarity creeping up to him fast.

What had he just seen?

As if doing what he did to you and Mingi wasn’t bad already, this was…he didn’t even know what to think.

The guilt ate him up but at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a dark cloud blooming in his chest. He didn’t know if he was reading too much into it but did you enjoy having him watch? He swore when your eyes locked with his as Yeosang fucked you and he was jerking off, there was a brief glimpse of a smirk.

As he cleaned up the mess of his cum on his hand and changed out of his shirt, he poked his head out his door so he could check he didn’t have traces of him on the floor or anywhere near your door.

What the fuck has he done? Why were you and Yeosang together?

He glanced at your still slightly open door wondering if you and his best friend were still going at it. If he had gotten caught by both of you, would he have been invited to join? He lightly knocked the back of his head with his fist for having thought about that. He was being delusional.

With tissues, he wiped away drops of his cum that had fallen to the floor quietly while telling himself he won’t try to listen to any more sounds that should be found because of your partially open door.

Before he could hear anything, he disappeared into his room and made sure his door was closed and locked.

He went over his conclusions about your relationship with the crew.

You and Mingi had been together for two years while you and San had basically grown up together and shared a friendship that looked far from platonic as he always looked like a love-sick puppy when you were around. Now Yeosang? Where the fuck did Yeosang fit in the equation?

It didn’t make sense to him and the last thought that crossed his mind was far too absurd…but then again, not entirely impossible.

It was just too crazy to be real. Which brought him back to his and Mingi’s conversation in the showers.

“What if it was an invitation?” Mingi’s words echoed in his head.

Even though he played it off as a joke, Wooyoung couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t entirely just a joke.

- feel free to scream in my askbox about the fic I will gladly famgor; with you <3

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK HERE. I DO NOT NOR WILL ALLOW IT.

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#tokki;sway with me #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez au #ateez fic #ateez smut #hongjoong x reader #jongho x reader #mingi x reader #yeosang smut #yeosang x reader #yunho x reader #san x reader #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez ot8 x reader

637 notes · View notes

cheri-2047 · 7 months

Text

cuddling w Genshin characters

warnings: none

characters: ga Ming, Xiao, lyney, alhaitham, furina,

Synopsis (is this the right word?): cuddling headcanons w these characyers

Uhhh btw idk how blogs work on tumblr yet but requests are open

GA MING:

His cuddles would be very warm and soothing, HED cuddle you as if you were a giant stuffed toy,

A lot of the time he either sleeps really late or doesn’t sleep at all so he ends up doing smth else but when he does you’re always in his arms

example by what I said in the one above: playing with cards. He would be playing with cards while you’re cuddling w him on his chest, do u get what I mean?

there are nights he’s extra tired from work + dancing so on those nights he just slips in the bed with you and immediately falls asleep.

if you can’t sleep, he will hum you one of his dance routine songs

XIAO:

I like to think he isnt super used to physical touch, but you can tell he’s trying

the first few nights…or maybe months, you two would just hold hands while you sleep, not yet full on cuddling

but after a few months when you guys are both comfy, HED let you lay your head on his chest or hee hug you by the waist.

youd have to remind him sometimes that it’s okay to do these stuff

I think he would be the type to always put stray strands of hair behind your ear or if you seem restless and can’t sleep, HED try to calm you down by patting your head

Lyney (I actually love lyney so much I have not had a single post without lyney in it)

He loves cuddling, he loves hugging you sm

hed be the type to show u some magic tricks while you guys cuddle

hed press kisses on your forehead then continue as if nothing happened

sometikes he comes home really tired and he’s really appreciate it whenever you’d help him like unwind and like hug him to sleep

you have Teo options: either a really talkative lyney or one that is very quiet, either way he loves being in your arms

If He notices you shivering, he would use his vision to warm you up a bit.

alhaitham:

You would cuddle on the bed or on a chair while he’s reading a book

when he’s done reading said book, either hell stand up and get another or finish and just stay with you in bed.

he’d be the type to admire you a lot while you’re sleeping like hes just stare at your face

during the nights u can’t sleep, hee read u his book. Unfortunately it’s very boring, but eh its the thought that counts

furina (the first time I’ve ever written a female Genshin character wow)

She’s always tell you about her adventures of the day, or the court cases

when she notices you fell asleep, she’d kiss your cheek and then go to bed herself

id like to think that on restless nights of yours, she’d try to either A) entertain you by performing or smth so you’re not bored or B) sing you a lullaby

on nights she’s feeling down, you’d have to reassure her and she’s be really relaxed and fall asleep in your arms

okay number one, this ain’t proofread at all and number two, my bad if I accidentally mischaracterized them

474 notes · View notes

mikaela-the-slut-expert · 7 months

Note

right, dont know if this makes sense but lets say reader (any gender really idm) was a god who had seen the ups and downs of hualian and had always been there for them but despite the mutual feelings between the 3, none of them confessed.

the thing is that, jun wu (ew…) had become obsessed with reader (since they stuck so much by xie lians and hua chengs side, they got noticed by jun wu) and left his obsession for xie lian behind and one day after planning so for many years, jun wu captures reader and theres no word of reader for days, weeks even yet jun wu acts as normal.

would hualian tear up the whole place, get revenge, rescue reader then make sweet love to them? up to you! you dont have to write ab this request btw:)

Rescue Mission

HuaLian x gn!reader

Ignore grammar mistakes

Slight OOC

Slight misinformation

You, Hua Cheng and Xie Lian have spent centuries together

But despite this you've never told them your feelings

And unknown to you, they've never told you their feelings either.

So you're all single but like, everyone else knows you guys are sort of together.

Other people know not to fuck with you when Hua Cheng has obviously staked his claim on you and Xie Lian

Except for Jun Wu, he doesn't care one bit.

Hua Cheng can't have the both of you so Jun Wu decides to obsess over you instead🤷

While Hua Cheng and Xie Lian are deep-rooted in their past, you're a little newer.

You definitely haven't spent 8 centuries with them

Plus how can he not notice you when you're stuck by the strongest martial god, and the strongest ghost king.

It's hard not to put a light on you

Jun Wu's obsession starts there. A small prick of intrigue

None of you would have guessed that he would've gone so far

After years of planning, and years of getting closer and closer to you his intrigue and obsession grows

So he finally takes you

Hua Cheng is on alert within the first 2 hours you're missing.

Maybe he's overreacting, maybe he's not.

You've always stayed by Xie Lian's or his side

And if you leave by yourself you would've told them.

When A whole day passed Xie Lian tries to assure Hua Cheng that you can take care of yourself and you're probably just on a mission

He's trying to make himself feel better too.

When three days pass Hua Cheng and Xie Lian think you've gone missing.

You would never do this to them, you would never make them worry

Hua Cheng has the ghost city on high alert and the ghost realm is already looking for you.

Xie Lian does what he can't in the mortal realm, giving people your description and hanging up drawings of you.

He also does what he can in the heavenly realm, after all a god going missing is very important

Especially when it's a god of the upper court like you

The upper court is in a slight panic. No one knows where you are and a lot of people in the upper court are your friends. So of course everyone's a bit in disarray when none of them have heard from you in three days

Not Feng Xin, Mu Qing, Pei Ming, Ling Wen, nor Shi Qingxuan.

You have so many friends, so many people that love you and yet you're not with a single one of them have you

So where are you?

A majority of the upper court brings it to attention to Jun Wu only for him... To act like nothing's wrong

He says gods are frivolous and curious, you may have just gone out alone.

There's no cause for worry he says

But everyone is still wary, especially Xie Lian

When he tells Hua Cheng what happened it doesn't go well.

With you gone missing and Jun Wu playing it off it doesn't take long for Hua Cheng to be blaming the emperor of your disappearance. Whether it's out of spite or genuine thought he doesn't know.

When a week passes Hua Cheng gives up on searching through the ghost realm

Not as in he gave up on you but as in he's breaking into the heavens to search for you instead.

You think Hua Cheng can't find you?

You'd be silly.

Xie Lian doesn't encourage it but he doesn't stop Hua Cheng either.

And maybe he slips some details about the emperor's palace. On accident of course.

Hua Cheng doesn't care to tear through the heavens as he did before for Xie Lian.

He tears through lower court gods and upper court gods who refuse to give details about your whereabouts, and who won't help him.

It doesn't take long at all for Hua Cheng to get into the main palace.

Especially when most of the upper court gods have gone missing...

Coincidentally enough all your friends aren't in the heavens to protect it

Feng Xin and Mu Qing on a mission, Shi Qingxuan out with the earth master. And the security of the heavens, Pei Ming? Apparently he's gone too.

So Hua Cheng can basically walk through the heavens to get to Jun Wu.

Hua Cheng doesn't feel bad for ripping the palace apart to find you.

And he does find you

Locked away in one of the far rooms, puzzles beyond puzzles. He just broke through them though.

When he finds you he's relieved you have no wounds, and that you're relatively okay despite being taken away for a week

Shaken up from being taken away from the people you care for most.

Hua Cheng would kill the emperor right there if Xie Lian didn't make a clear emphasis on just getting you home.

That doesn't stop Hua Cheng from setting fire to the heavens though

Once you're brought home, it's a lot of hugging, tears, and a lot of questions about what happened.

You cry and tell them that you were scared simply for the fact you would never get the chance to tell them you loved them.

They most literally freeze in their spots and are like "??? For real?"

Once all the I love you's pass Xie Lian and Hua Cheng cling to you

Taking you into bed and worshipping you on the sheets.

You've had a busy week, you deserve to be taken care of and that's exactly what they do.

After that they'll never let you be alone again

One of them is always at your side.

Especially Hua Cheng

The silver butterflies become a common sight in the heavens anytime you or Xie Lian are around

#tgcf #tgcf headcanon #hualian #hualian x reader #hua cheng x reader #tgcf x male reader #tgcf hua cheng #tgcf hualian #tgcf xie lian #xie lian x reader

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cptnhngjng · 16 days

Text

the switch up

when two switches are together, no one in particular is in charge.

you wanted to take control and take care of mingi for the night, but things got switched up.

-switch!mingi x fem switch!reader -2.6k words -smut, 18+ only, mdni -c/w: oral sex (m receiving), fingering, big dick!mingi, pet names (princess, my love, good boy/girl, baby), slight edging, restraints, whiny!mingi, unprotected sex, definitely forgetting some other things sorry guys

not proofread

also was working on an alternative version to this that i haven’t finished but may finish it eventually

being in a relationship with mingi is all about give and take. he takes care of you, and you take care of him. some days, it may be more of him taking care of you, while other days, it is more of you taking care of him. first it started in just everyday life, doing the basic household chores, or being the one who comforts on a bad day. neither one of you played a particular role. that was until things moved to the bedroom. when two switches are together, no one in particular is in charge.

that doesn’t mean that neither one dominates or submits; those roles are shared by the two of you. one day mingi could be the one in charge, taking control, and the next it could be you. sometimes just one night could have both of you switching.

and tonight just so happens to be one of those nights.

mingi was laying in bed, scrolling through his phone when you crawled into bed next to him. you slipped your fingers under his shirt and started to rub his stomach, feeling his soft skin. you slowly moved down towards the waistband of his shorts, stopping before you went any further. a low whine escaped mingi’s lips as he finally put his phone down. you looked up at him, giving him a small smirk.

“i want you, ming,” you whisper, before finally reaching into his pants, hand cupping his dick. you palmed him slightly, feeling his cock come to life. it was getting harder and harder the more you played with him. he bucked into your hand, already desperate.

“p-please,” mingi let out a shaky breath. “take me, y/n.”

you finally pulled his shorts and underwear down, freeing his cock. continuing to stroke him softly, you sat up so you could watch his reactions. he always looked so cute when he was coming undone from your touches. you leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. mingi whined against your lips when you released his cock from your hold.

“mmm, be a good boy for me,” you say to him before kissing down his jawline. you slowly start to pull his shirt off him, leaving him completely naked before you. moving from his jaw to his shoulder, you trail kisses down his body. first stopping at his chest, where you place wet open mouth kisses in the skin between his pecs. your fingers tweak his left nipple while you gently lick his right. you could feel his low moans vibrate through his chest.

your tongue trails down from his chest to his abdomen, reaching his bellybutton, where the fine hairs start and lead to his pubic region. mingi’s large hand grabs at your head in desperation, wanting you to move even further south. you wrap your fingers around his wrist and move his hand away from you. sitting up on your heels, you shake your head disapprovingly. “patience, my princess,” you tease.

“please, need you s’bad,” he whimpers out.

letting go of his wrist, you rest your hands on his muscular thighs. the strong, muscular thighs that often hold you up while you ride on top of him. a kiss is placed on each thigh before moving to his waiting cock. starting at the base, you lick a stripe up along the prominent vein, stopping before reaching the tip. precum was already leaking from it, to which you place a quick kiss. you look up at mingi from your position—his eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open, breathing deeply. you took his length into your mouth, going until the tip hit the back of your throat. the base of his cock needed to be taken care of by your hands since your mouth can’t take him all.

you could feel mingi’s thighs tensing under you—a tell tale sign that he’s about to buck his hips and try to fuck your throat. your nails dug into the skin of his thighs as a warning. don’t fucking move. you hollowed your cheeks, creating the suction his dick so desperately ached for. spit was leaking from your mouth as his thick cock stretched your lips. you used the saliva as lubricant to help your hands jerk him more smoothly.

the moans that mingi was producing were so whiny and desperate—it only motivated you more. mingi was never quiet in the bedroom. he was always making sounds, getting louder and louder the closer he reached the edge. the loud, pornographic moans, the low, deep grunts and groans, the high pitched whines; he did not care how loud he was or who heard him. you hummed satisfyingly, the vibrations going straight to his cock. knowing he wasn’t allowed to touch you, mingi’s thick fingers gripped the sheets as he released a strangled whimper.

he was becoming more and more whiny; he was getting close. a few more bobs of your head, taking his cock as far as you could down your throat, you finally pulled away from him. you continued to stroke his thick cock, making sure you tease his balls, giving them a light squeeze. he bucked against you, wanting more of your touch. you let go of him and he whimpered at the lack of touch. “mm, not yet, my princess,” you tease. “you can’t cum yet.”

“need to be in you, please,” he whined. you straddle his waist and look down at the man who was slowly becoming undone. you kiss him harshly before grinding your clothed core against him. “please, baby, need you now.” his hands grabbed your waist and started to pull at your bottoms, wanting you to be just as bare as he was. He needed to feel your skin on his.

you smack his hand away and climb off him. “hands to yourself, my love,” you order. you needed to find something to restrain mingi’s hands because you just knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold back. you walked over to the dresser where mingi keeps his ties and other accessories and you grabbed the first tie you saw, twisting it around in your hands. “now i need you to be a good boy and listen to me, okay,” you cooed at him.

“m’always a good boy,” mingi pouted. you climbed back onto him, straddling his waist again. grabbing his much larger hands into your smaller ones, you lift them up above his head. mingi was watching your every move. desperation filled his eyes. you took the tie and gently started to restrain his hands to the headboard. the silky material was soft and cool against his hot skin.

“it’s not too tight, is it?” you asked him. mingi tugged at the restraint a bit to test it. he shook his head, causing you to smirk. you cupped his cheek and kissed him softly. “perfect.”

you ground your hips down against him one more time before getting up off him again. by now his cock was so hard, it was becoming too much for mingi. you knew he wasn’t going to be about to last much longer if you continued to tease him. normally you would put on a little show for mingi when you would strip yourself of your clothes, but wanting to have mercy on him, you removed your clothes quickly, leaving you completely naked. his eyes wandered over your body, taking in every inch. he loved everything about you and your body. you were perfect to him. and it was killing him that he couldn’t touch you right now. to be able to run his big, rough hands down your sides. to hold on to your waist. to run his fingers down the curve of your lower back to your ass. to kiss your neck, shoulders, collar bone. to cup your tits in his hands, to tease your nipples with his thick fingers. he gets so drunk off your body. it was his kryptonite.

and being restrained was killing him.

“baby, please,” mingi’s voice was low and shaky. his body shuddered in anticipation as you climbed back onto him. you stroked his cock a couple more times before finally lining it up with your entrance. you weren’t properly prepped, and you knew the stretch was going to be too much, but you needed him just as badly as he needed you. mingi hissed as you rubbed the angry tip through your wet folds.

finally, you slowly started to sink down on him. the stretching of your cunt was intense, he filled you up more than you could handle. you closed your eyes for a moment while allowing yourself to adjust. you rested your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself and to keep yourself grounded. low groans were leaving mingi’s lips as you continued to lower yourself onto his dick. once you were completely full of him, you stopped and looked at mingi in the eyes.

“you’ve been so patient, my princess. let me make you feel good,” you whispered as you started to bounce on his cock. you rolled your hips, allowing him to hit all the sensitive spots. soon you both were moaning together, him being much louder and whinier. you leaned against him, hugging him close to your body as you continued to rock against his cock.

mingi’s breathing was becoming more rapid—he was close. “baby, so close,” he managed to utter out between all the other noises he was producing. you stopped moving your hips, causing mingi to whine. he bucked his hips, pushing his dick deeper, hitting your cervix. you moaned into his neck; your cunt squeezing his cock. you sat your body up again, giving a few more bounces on his cock.

by now, mingi was really pulling at his restraints, eager to be free and to hold you. he thrusted his hips up again into you. although he couldn’t touch you, he still wanted to make use of his body. he was starting to lose control, rutting up into you, wanting more friction. your hands made way to his shoulders and you gripped him tightly.

mingi was now staring to gain dominance—his cock was making your head spin and pussy ache for more. you took his plump lips into a deep kiss, tongues and spit mixing. “mmm, y/n, please,” mingi groaned into the kiss. “need to fuck you.”

you wanted to make him cum without having him touch you, but at this point you just needed mingi to fuck you. your plans were falling apart. but it didn’t matter anymore, not with the way mingi was rolling his hips against your core. you needed him even more now. continuing to kiss, you reached above his head and undid the tie that was holding his hands back.

before you knew it, mingi’s hands were on your waist and you were being flipped over, being pressed into the mattress. his much larger frame covering yours. now it was your hands that were being restrained—his hands held your wrists together above your head. a whine escaped you as you tried to fight back, but it was unsuccessful. he was much bigger and stronger than you.

“it’s my turn now,” mingi said in a low voice, his eyes darkened as he gained control over you. one hand continued to pin your wrists above your head as his other hand grips your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “time for you to be a good girl now, my love.”

you whimpered as he let go of your hands and he gripped your hips, adjusting you so he could have a better angle at your core. you were so wet, pussy gripping at nothing. so desperate for mingi’s cock. thick fingers slipped between your folds, spreading your slick around. you rocked your hips, wanting more from mingi, wanting more of him inside you. two fingers were inserted and you moaned out, gripping his shoulders. slowly he began pumping his fingers in and out of your needy hole.

“still so tight even after riding me,” he chuckled deeply. he curled his fingers, rubbing at your g spot. you bucked your hips against his hand, whining, needing more. he pressed your hips down against the bed, making it difficult for you to move. the speed of his fingers fucking you were increasing.

“mingi, please,” you begged, you could feel your high building up. your back arched and you slid a hand down to your pussy, wanting some stimulation on your clit. mingi smirked when he saw you rubbing at the sensitive bundle of nerves.

he clicked his tongue at you. “so needy.” his free hand moved yours away from your center. “time for you to be the patient one.” his thumb presses against your clit, rubbing slow circles on it. the feeling of his fingers fucking into you and his thumb rubbing at your clit was becoming too much.

“agh, mingi!” you yelled out, finally coming undone, your whole body convulsing. pussy gripping tightly at his fingers. your breathing was hard; your chest rising as you fought to catch your breath.

“good girl, cum for me,” mingi praised you as he spread your legs further apart and slotted himself in between. “i’m not done yet.” he grabbed his achingly hard cock with the hand that was just finger fucking you. it was covered in your juices. he started to stroke himself, spreading your wetness on him. finally lining up with your entrance, he slowly pushed in. despite him working at your cunt with his fingers, you were still being stretched out by his thick cock.

when you were finally completely filled by him, mingi stopped and grabbed your legs, wrapping them around his hips. “pl..please, mingi, please!” you whined, wanting him to move. his hands held onto your hips, lifting your ass off the bed slightly—the perfect angle for him to fuck into you.

mingi started moving, his thrusts gradually increasing in speed. his cock head pounding against your cervix. the sound of skin smacking skin filled the room along with the wet squelching sounds coming from your pussy being fucked relentlessly. “you are doing so good, my love,” mingi groaned out. “your pussy is taking my cock perfectly. made just for me.”

he continued to fuck into you, his once precise thrusts now becoming sloppy. you both were close to the edge. your pussy continued to squeeze mingi’s cock as you were starting to reach your high. “mm, mingi, gonna cum!” you moaned as you felt the knot in your stomach snap.

“that’s it, baby,” mingi whispered, watching your body shake and your eyes roll back. “cum on my cock like the good girl you are.” when your body finally relaxed, mingi pulled out. he was so close to cumming. he stroked himself a few times before he finally released his hot seed all over your stomach—his favorite place to cum other than inside of you.

he collapsed onto the bed next to you, his breathing ragged. you laid there with your eyes closed, listening to mingi’s breathing. a minute passed when you felt the mattress shift. opening one eye, you saw mingi’s naked form dart to the bathroom. a laugh escaped you as you slowly sat up, resting back on your elbows, waiting for mingi to return. he shuffled back out of the bathroom with a wet washcloth, making his way back over to you.

“sorry i made such a mess,” he mumbled as he started to wipe off your belly. he always apologizes to you whenever he cums on you, even though you always tell him not to. in your opinion, you find it hot when he finishes on you. it’s his way of claiming you and you want him to know that you will always be his.

—————

taglist: @bratty-tingz, @bunnyhoneyoats, @xdinarymango, @seonghwasbaby

if anyone else wants to be added to my taglist lmk!

#ateez imagines #ateez smut #mingi smut #mingi x reader #ateez #mingi #ateez x reader

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toruro · 1 year

Text

— ✧ idubilu

pairing. xu minghao x reader

description. obligatory company dinners are never much fun, but you understand that your husband has to go through with them at the end of each month anyways. luckily, he knows just how to make it up to you once you two get home.

genre. smut (18+ / mdni) tags under the cut, ceo & husband minghao, fluff

w/c. 2.8k

a/n. yk i don’t rly like pwp but i needed to pay homage to the idubilu choreo. that's it.

✘ tags. oral (f receiving), petnames (princess, pretty), they're just rly horny 4 each other lol, reader wears a suit and she is SEXY! ✘ taglist. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @ming-h0e @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @marzmeltdown @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @hipsdofangirl @nikkixpenguin @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 @whippedforjihoon @yunjinified @nishloves @woozarts @ellesmoon @blurryriki @maknae00 @jjjzzzz @marzmeltdown @peachyaeger @shoulietaro (strikethrough could not be tagged) join my taglist here!

A tight lipped smile is the only thing you’re wearing tonight. Well, that and a stiff pair of dress pants and button up shirt; usually you opt for wearing dresses to these sorts of things, but the one you’d picked out earlier was itchy in all the worst spots and really, you couldn’t bother to choose another one so you settled for this suit. It’s definitely more comfortable, but your feet still ache in the confines of your heels as you wrap your fingers around the cool glass of champagne.

Your husband is in the corner of your vision, talking to some associate as you stand by the buffet table, as you contemplate if you even have the stomach to eat anything right now. You’re overreacting—you know you are—but after long hours at work and an even longer hours trying to clean up the mess your cat had made at home, you’re not the least bit thrilled to spend your evening hours (the ones you usually spend curled up by Minghao’s side) here.

The champagne fizzles out on your tongue when you take a sip, sighing as you lean against the wall. You want to leave, that much is obvious. Minghao can sense it from across the room—the way your arms are crossed over your chest and you look down at your shoes, only glancing up to flicker your eyes at him and then the clock.

“45 more minutes,” you mutter to yourself when he finally excuses himself and walks over with a plate of food in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says lowly when he’s finally within ear shot. “I know you hate coming to these.”

You let your shoulders deflate a little when you hear the sincerity in your voice, reminding yourself that this is your husband. “No it’s … it’s fine, these shoes just hurt,” you tell him honestly, shifting your weight from leg to leg as Minghao hands you his plate.

“Sit down and eat. I’ll wrap this up in half an hour and then we can leave.” You frown, taking the plate from his hands. “And remind me to get you new shoes if these ones suck—you know I hate seeing you in pain.”

You roll your eyes as he follows you to the nearest empty table in the hall. “Simp,” you tease, slipping into a seat and begrudgingly stuffing your face with one of the hor d’oeuvres.

“Whatever you say princess,” he sighs, stepping back. “I’ll be back in a bit, and then we’ll get going, ‘kay?” You nod and he walks off with a final wave, just as bored as before but a little less bitter. After all, Minghao’s sweet words and kind promises always leave a warm feeling budding in your heart.

Still, the next thirty minutes are long. You watch him not too discreetly now, getting lost in yourself as the night progresses. Minghao has long ditches his black coat, and is instead donned in a simple set of black pants and white shirt, nearly perfectly matching you. It’s a kind thought that occupies your mind for the remainder of your time—the fact that you and Minghao match each other perfectly.

You’re left with you and your thoughts, and although it’s a long wait, relief waves over your form when you hear Minghao thank everyone for coming. You make your way to his side while he does so, his arm secured around your waist as the two of you bow and wave everyone out as they shuffle out the room until it’s just the two of you left.

“Oh god, I thought I’d never get to take these off,” you huff, sitting on one of the round tables once everyone’s gone, slipping the tight heels over your sore feet. Your husband watches you sympathetically as he tucks his phone back into his pocket, workers making their way into the hall to clean up.

“I told you, we can go get new ones. Let’s go home now though,” he says, holding a hand out as you reach down to pick up your shoes. Minghao scrunches his nose up when you put your bare feet on the ground. “Ew. Don’t do that!”

You frown. “Why not! My feet hurt and I don’t care if it’s dirty—I can’t stand it anymore!”

Minghao sighs and shakes his head, and for a moment you think you’ve won this battle but then he’s turning around and tapping at his back. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“I am not g—”

Minghao shoots you a warning look, and you suddenly realize you’re too exhausted to care that much anyways. “I’ll give you a treat.”

Your tummy tumbles, and you’re glad he’s turned away so he can’t see the shit eating grin that creeps onto your lips. You don’t exactly understand what Minghao means by a treat as you climb onto his back, but when he secures his arms under your legs, you learn that you don’t need to.

You trust Minghao, more than anyone if you’re being honest, so as you curl your face into his neck as he carries you out of the company building and to the car, finally driving you home, you sit and smile because you know whatever he’s going to give you, you’re going to love it just as you love him.

So yeah, you’re not exactly surprised when Minghao pushes you onto the soft covers of the bed as soon as you enter your house, but then again, you’re not complaining either.

“You look really sexy in a suit,” Minghao murmurs, climbing on top of you as his fingers find his way up your pants and by its waistband.

“You don’t like it when I wear dresses?” you muse, shuffling up onto your elbows so you can lift your hips, Minghao yanking your pants down as you do.

“I do,” he says casually, sitting back on his heels as you kick the pants off and onto the ground, leaving your legs bare as Minghao settles between them. Slowly, he runs his fingers over them, the ghost of a touch as he traces over the inside of your thighs, circles around your knees, and smooths over your shins before finally curling them around your ankles.

You grow limp under him, letting his strong arms lift your legs up high as he runs his soft lips over the flesh of your calves. He whispers into your skin, the hot breath sending a ripple of shivers coursing through you. “Dresses are nice … but suits … fu-u-uck,” he draws out, placing open mouthed kisses down the inside of your legs.

You whimper when he shuffles down the bed and presses his face between your thighs, lips moving rougher and more fervent as he nips and lips at the skin. Minghao wants to drown himself in you—wants you to be the only thing he can taste on his tongue, wants you to be the only thing he can smell as he buries himself in the beauty between your legs.

“Fuck,” he groans, peeling himself away for a moment to stare down at you—your shirt is half unbuttoned, revealing the peek of your cleavage, and your lips are puffy, eyes blown out and hair all strewn as you await for more.

There aren’t words exchanged as Minghao starts to tug at his tie that’s starting to feel all too tight, the silk fabric tumbling between his deft fingers as he pulls it to the side and lets it fall onto the bed. He’s working through but buttons next, starting by the collar and working his way down, and you find yourself growing lost into sight of him.

From the way his adam’s apple bounces and jaw clenches when you whimper, to the way his shirt falls from his shoulders and leaves his pretty chest on display—you’re fucking entranced. Minghao rolls his neck back once, flashing you a hint of his chiseled jawline before craning his head back down and sucking your lips into a deep kiss.

His hands smooth under your shirt and press against your stomach as you grip at his firm shoulders as he mumbles against your lips, “Lemme eat you out.” God, the way he says it is so crude and so dirty, but fuck, if it doesn’t have you nuzzling your nose into his and nodding as your eyes flutter shut …

Minghao moves slowly, and it’s around now that you’d usually start to get impatient; you’d start to whine and squirm, chanting his name in hopes to get him to speed it up. Something in the air is different tonight, and as you close your eyes, you bask in the feeling of his body moving down yours.

You drink in the sounds of his soft pants and echoes of his mouth sucking against your exposed skin. Minghao is meticulous—he always is. It’s how he rose to the top in practically everything he did, and it’s how he’s making you crumble beneath his palms right now.

Your limbs move together in tandem, like you were both built for each other and each other only, bodies intertwining in a heated yet perfect mess as Minghao wraps his arms under your thighs and over your hips when you pull your soiled panties off. He’s done this more times than you can count, but not once has not left you in awe when he licks the first fat stripe.

Minghao knows you well—so, so well—better than yourself, you would add with no hesitation. He knows how to make you smile, knows how to make you laugh, knows how to make you writhe beneath him.

When his tongue delves between your folds and he sucks against the sensitive flesh, Minghao knows exactly what he’s doing. You glance down, finally parting your eyes, and are met with the sight of Minghao’s own heavy lids, and your stomach churns in the realization that he truly is enjoying this as much as you are.

Moans break free from your throat as he slides his tongue up and down, flicking against your clit and making out against your gaping cunt. The words on your tongue come out in a mangled mess, and Minghao can’t really understand what you’re saying, but then again, he doesn’t need to because he loves it.

Loves the way you’re whining from just a few subtle movements, loves how you chant his name like it’s the only word you know—fuck, Minghao loves everything goddamn thing about you and it’s driving him fucking crazy.

Minghao watches you grind upwards to meet the pace of his tongue and lips—it’s perfect. “The best,” he groans, parting his lips from your cunt for a moment so you can hear him better, although he’s not sure you’re even paying attention.

Your neck is thrown back and one hand is threaded through his hair, the other gripping at one of your exposed tits as white noise rushes through your ears. “Could live here,” Minghao says, not really to you but more to himself as he gazes down at your shiny folds before diving back in.

You, you, you, is all Minghao can think, and as he snakes one hand up your stomach, gripping at your other unattended breast, fingers flexing and clenching around the bouncy flesh. “Oh—Hao!” you whine out when he pinches your nipple. It’s not rough or harsh, but you’re so sensitive all over that even the brush of his hair against your skin has you jerking into his touch.

The cry of his name only eggs him on, and Minghao finds his eyes shutting tight as digs his face deeper and deeper into your slobbering core. Through the sucking, through the lapping, through the borderline making out with your cunt, Minghao starts to talk.

He tells you how good you taste, how pretty you sound, how fucking hard he is—his princess, that’s what he calls you. His pretty, pretty princess. Minghao doesn’t even know if you can hear him, but he also knows it doesn’t matter.

You’ll understand.

Minghao knows you’ll understand because everytime you moan his name, his hold on your tits tightens and his lips move with more and more vigor until you’re pulsing—fuck, he hasn’t even stuck anything in yet and you’re already being driven damn close to insanity.

It comes out in broken sobs—“��m gonna cum, H-H-Hao! ‘m g’na—fuck!”

And he responds with equal passion, mutter into your wetness to, “Do it—fucking do it.”

Minghao devours you through the high that permeates your body, and you feel he might as well swallow you whole with the way his hands are all over you and the way you’re tugging at his hair (it’s painful, but Minghao concludes that this is the best kind of pain).

And then he’s kissing you, your sweet arousal mixing in a mess of both of your saliva as your tongues clash together. Your cheeks are wet as they press against each other and there you two are, rolling around on the sheets until your head is spinning, partly from the buzz of your orgasm but mainly from the pure passion that surges through your blood.

Your hands are in his hair, on his chest, sinking into his back, fumbling with his pants—they’re everywhere because, fuck, you just need to feel him. Minghao is no different because he’s also everywhere—unclipping your bra but still keeping your shirt on, sliding his hands over your tits and pressing against your neck, grinding into you as you shove his pants and boxers down.

You’re on top of him when he’s finally kicked his pants off, grinding down on the massive hard-on he’s wearing, swiveling your hips as he grips onto your tits as if they were a lifeline. “Put it in pretty,” Minghao moans, tweaking one nipple between his fingers as he uses his other hand to tap his thick, leaking cock against the base of your stomach.

He doesn’t need to tell you twice, and you’re pressing forward and lifting your hips. Again, Minghao knows you well. So well that it hardly takes him a second to find your dripping hole, aligning himself with you before jutting upwards.

You cry out at the sensation, sinking down on him almost immediately as your lips meet for another fervent kiss. It’s maddening, really, the way your clit rubs against his pelvis as you carefully rock your hips forward once you get adjusted to his side.

You moan into each other’s mouths and drink up the pleasure because that’s all you two know—in this moment, it’s only you and Minghao.

It’ll only ever be you and Minghao, because no one’s gonna be able to carve the shape of their cock into you like he’s doing so well right now. No one’s gonna lift their hips and swivel right back down, sucking him in and clenching him so tight like you’re doing so well right now. No one’s gonna ever share a moment like the two of you do right now, and as Minghao paws at your waist and threads his fingers into your hair, you both don’t need to say it, but you know.

Skin against skin echoes in symphony with your broken gasps and choked sobs as you begin to bounce over Minghao. He’s got you in a grip like a vise as he murmurs, “Princess—fuck, my pretty princess—feels s’good,” he slurs, to which you can only furrow your brows in pleasure and nod dumbly. You feel like you’re on fire, sweat all over as you chew down on your lip, trying to shake off the soaked dress shirt, but Minghao stops you with a firm hand on your arm.

“Keep it on pretty,” he whines, “Please.”

Something about the desperation in his voice has your heart strings strumming, and let your hand fall back onto him, shifting so his cock hits even deep inside of you. Your squeezing is more than he can handle, and Minghao wraps his arms around your waist and holds you close, lips ghosting over your neck and teeth sinking into your skin.

Through mangled whispers and hot skin, tangled limbs and melting lips, you two move through sheets languidly. For how long, you can’t say, but when you two reach your peaks together, it’s with words of love pushed through gritted teeth hard kisses.You two probably won’t be able to understand what the other is saying, but that’s okay because you don’t need to. You’ll know and Minghao will know—I love you.

#minghao x reader #minghao smut #xu minghao x reader #xu minghao smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #📝 writing

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wen-kexing-apologist · 9 months

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What are your top 5 “oh” moments. Like the moment that a character realizes that they are in love or that they realize another character is in love with them. ❤️

Ooo I love this question, and naturally the second I am presented with it I forget every single ‘oh’ moment that exists in all of media. And also I have watched too much of media so I forget a lot of things. I’m going to stick to BL because I didn’t really watch a lot of romance stuff before I found this genre and it’s fresher in my memory.

Pat in Bad Buddy

gif by @nick-nellson

My absolute favorite thing about the ‘oh’ moment in Bad Buddy for Pat is that Pat is someone that must act immediately. Pat does not sit on his feelings, he doesn’t mull them over, he doesn’t spend any time reflecting. He figures out that he likes Pran and then immediately seeks him out, immediately talks to him about how lonely he was without Pran when Pran transferred schools, immediately tells Pran his feelings. Pat and Pran are such good balances to each other. Pat’s family has always won, Ming has always won, Pat is not punished for interacting with Pran the way that Pran is. So Pran learned to quiet down, to hide, to keep things close to the chest. And he’s been harboring these feelings for Pat for so long without slipping up about it. But because Pat has never really experienced the severe consequences Pran has, he’s open, and honest, and expressive.

I love love love love LOVE the sigh of relief, the utter bliss and joy that we see on Pat’s face when they pull away from their kiss, and you can tell that to Pat everything makes sense! It’s a relief, he understands his feelings, he’s let Pran know, Pran has responded in kind. And I love love love love LOVE Pran’s reaction to realizing Pat liked him back, the way he sets his jaw before he goes in for the second kiss, the way he can’t let himself have it, the way he knows he essentially signing a death warrant if he allows this for himself and his mother finds out. So he is devastated, he has to walk away from the moment. It’s such a phenomenal execution of an ‘oh’ moment.

Im Han Tae in Sing My Crush

gif by @smileytharn

Sing My Crush is probably my favorite offering I’ve seen out of Korea, I love it so much and for so many reasons. I love the level of comfortability and platonic intimacy that we get between Han Ba Ram and Im Han Tae from the jump. Those boys are so comfortable with each other, and though Han Ba Ram is a perpetually suffering homo being cuddled by his unrequited crush, the love and care they have for eachother is so palpable. What I love about the “oh” moment in Sing My Crush is that it really is simultaneously short and sweet and prolonged. In Episode 5, Han Ba Ram confesses his feelings to Im Han Tae, and we get Han Tae’s initial “huh?” reaction, that includes them dropping their held hands, and Han Tae has zero processing time before Ba Ram is telling him he is leaving and then running away. And I love that the second that Ba Ram is out of site and Han Tae has a moment to contemplate, he sits down, and he just stares at his hands.

AND THEN WE GET THIS BEAUTIFUL MONTAGE THAT JUST REPLAYS ALL OF THESE MOMENTS OF INTIMACY BETWEEN BA RAM AND HAN TAE BUT HAN TAE IS RECONTEXTUALIZING THEM IN REAL TIME TO PROCESS HIS OWN FEELINGS FOR BA RAM.

And then right after that we just a scene where Han Tae is just dissociating about it until he reaches a point of understanding and comfortabilty with it. And then…

Nothing.

Han Tae and Ba Ram go right back to interacting like they usually do, and the confession just sits, and Han Tae is touching Ba Ram, is letting Ba Ram wrap his arms around him, is telling Ba Ram to lean on him. Han Tae is showing Ba Ram it is okay, he’s okay with this, at least with knowing that Ba Ram likes him. But Ba Ram is depressed, and he’s been hurt before, and I love the way Han Ba Ram and Im Han Tae are able to work through some of their own feelings in the boxing ring. And Han Ba Ram gets to devastate us all with the: “Why is it so tiring to like someone? What did I do wrong?”

Like, we know that Han Tae likes Ba Ram, but then he sits on it for an entire episode, until Ba Ram takes back his confession because of all the shit with that dickhead music teacher. And we get Ba Ram’s “oh, he likes me’ moment an entire episode later. I don’t know, I think it’s lovely.

Nozue in Old Fashion Cupcake

gif by @itachis

All I have to say is: Togawa, you poor fucker, I am so sorry for the agonizing torture Nozue unintentionally put you through by calling you hot, offering his body, and going out on dates with him when Nozue didn’t know you had a crush on him. Old Fashion Cupcake is nearly untouchable in it’s ‘oh’ moment. It’s handled so brilliantly, the rise in tension between them, the anxiety just radiating off of Nozue, the way all pretense from Nozue just falls away, the four minute continuous shot!

Like, truly you when Togawa starts waxing poetic about how he’s got the spark for life because of Nozue and things start to click in to place for Nozue, and I love love love love love the build-up to the kiss, it’s peaceful and they are getting somewhere and then Togoawa gets the phone call and Nozue panics. Nozue starts making increasingly ridiculous, half-hearted, and obvious excuses to get the fuck out of Togawa’s apartment. The way Togawa grabs him? Incredible. But the response from Nozue throughout the kiss? It takes an incredibly strong actor to handle it the way that Nozue did. The utter confusion at the beginning, the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out how he fucking got here, while at the same time kissing back. GOD! So good! So so good!

Kiyoi in Utsukushii Kare, Season 2

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

This is a non-traditional ‘oh’ moment, because it isn’t a “oh i’m in love” or “oh I love him” moment at all. What it is is a “oh I’ve been mistaken” moment that is just absolutely brutal and heartbreaking. There is no doubt whatsoever that Kiyoi is in love with Hira, every fiber of Kiyoi’s being, every cell in that boy’s body loves Hira. But Hira has not loved Kiyoi, he’s been obsessed with Kiyoi, he’s glorified Kiyoi, he’s looked at Kiyoi as a god Hira should worship and serve. The way Yagi Yusei plays the moment that Kiyoi realizes that his understanding of his relationship with Hira is horrifically flawed. The way Kiyoi looks like he’s been slapped the second that Hira admits he isn't sure he wants to understand Kiyoi? It’s brilliant. “I’m sorry I like you” like???????? hello?????????

Shiro, What Did You Eat Yesterday? Season 2

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

Again not a strictly traditional “oh” moment, because Kenji and Shiro have been in a relationship for eight years at this point, they love each other, even if Shiro is not the kind of person to say it. But man, I just…nothing brought me to tears faster than Shiro’s “oh, he really loves me and I really love him” moment in Season 2 when Kenji runs out to get onions because he threw the old ones out and Shiro needed one to make dinner. The contrast we have had throughout the episode with the flashbacks to Shiro’s last relationship that was extremely one sided and cold, to the bright, colorful, warmth of the current day, with Kenji. I will never recover from the line “I think I’ll use two chicken breasts tonight” while Shiro stands there with tears in his eyes, overwhelmed at the realization that he truly loved and cared for.

Bonus: Invisible Oh Moment

Uea in Bed Friend

gif by @ueasking

I want to talk about Uea’s “oh” moment in Bed Friend because I don’t think there is any clear “oh” moment. The boy doesn’t run, he doesn’t confess, but there are a couple of points that stood out to me as Uea shifting how he thinks of King, Episode 4 is really the point of change. There are a ton of little moments throughout the episode where you can really see Uea start to soften towards King. We have the first chip in the armor when King [tells Uea he doesn’t deserve to be treated that way after Pock’s assault in the garage], the second chip when King treats his bruises so gently, the third when King brings the birthday cake. You can tell the morning after that Uea is no longer thinking of King as a bed friend, and even more over you get this incredible moment in Episode 6 right after their sex scene where it is so disgustingly obvious that King wants to ask Uea to be his boyfriend and that Uea would say yes without a moment’s hesitation. And that is why I didn’t want to leave it out of the list. Because honestly, I have not seen many shows in 2023 that used sex better than Bed Friend. Every single sexual encounter we got out of KingUea was followed by a shift in their relationship, and in a space where kink is rarely used or used poorly, I think it was vitally important that the kinky sex is what solidified Uea’s feelings for King.

Bonus Bonus: Uh Oh moment

Teh in I Told Sunset About You

gif by @mickeysarmyguy

I go absolutely feral for moments where characters finally give in to a desire and then are able to just like, pull the leash back, clamp their feelings down, and walk away. I cannot overstate the level to which I was impacted by the final scene in Episode 3 of ITSAY where Teh is scratching Oh’s back and smelling him. I do not think I breathed through that scene because of how oppressive the tension was between them. But the second that Teh grabbed Oh’s pecs and realized there weren’t breasts there and he just locks all his feelings behind bars is just…I don’t even have words.

#ask game #favorite oh moments #i told sunset about you #itsay #bed friend #what did you eat yesterday?#kinou nani tabeta?#sing my crush #utsukushii kare #my beautiful man #old fashion cupcake #bad buddy #bbs

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yertle-the-turtle6678 · 5 months

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IM BACK AND I HAVE PERCIVER HEAD CANONS TO SHARE!!!

They meet in first year on the Hogwarts express. Percy's holding a giant book on third year divination. While this makes him a less attractive friend in the eyes of others', it's what brings Oliver Wood to the same train car as him. They introduce themselves and shake hands.

In second year, Oliver makes the Quidditch team as their keeper. Percy still spends the majority of his time indoors, but he goes to Ollie's practices and games every once in a while. After one specific game, Oliver comes back to the dorm with his breath cut short and with tears in his eyes. He stops breathing and the world goes spinning between each of his eyes; a panic attack, madame Pomphrey later describes it. The crowd triggered it.

Percy comforts him, sits on the same floor as him, rubbing the boy's back, repeating reassurance: "you're safe here,"

"You were good out there, really."

"I'll sit with you for as long as it takes."

Oliver comes to with his head on Percy's shoulder.

In third year, Percy goes to every practice and every game. He rubs Oliver's back when he returns to the dorm. When he loses for the first time, Percy has to chase him to stop him from running away, never to be found again.

"Hey, listen," Percy says, out of breath from the running. He doesn't understand how Oliver's barely breaking a sweat. "Tell me, okay? What went wrong out there?"

He gives Oliver a minute to pause and think.

Oliver gathers his thoughts and his breath. The sweat dripping down his neck fuels him, gives him energy. It clouds his head. He needs to calm down.

"I slipped on my broom." He says finally. "I wasn't planted on it properly."

"Good. What are you gonna do to fix it?" Percy replies, breathing better.

"I'll improve my grip."

"Good."

The two of them stand there, just breathing.

"Thanks."

In fourth year, they have the Yule Ball. Both of them are fifteen. Their year mates are out and about minging, asking each other out. The two of them stay where they are. They don't speak of the ball.

They go to the dance together, as friends of course. Percy keeps adjusting the collar to his hand-me-down dress robes. Oliver assures him that his attire is charming.

He sighs.

"If you had to wear these, I guarantee you'd understand me." Percy says. Over the summer his voice has changed. It's deeper and richer. Oliver loves it. Wishes he could taste it. Wishes these thoughts would go away. He grins and laughs Percy off.

When it's time to dance, they run away to a balcony that Percy didn't even know existed. They laugh and chat, making jokes at the dancers' expenses. Percy's had a bit to drink, (had he known the punch was alcoholic, he wouldn't have gone near it) and his face is flushed deep red.

"AND- and then when the-" he howls laughter. Oliver has to stop him from falling over himself.

Oliver thinks... He can't think at all. Suddenly. The two of them are so close together. He's got his arm around Percy's back and Percy's leaning against him, hands on Oliver's chest, still laughing. When he stops and catches his breath, though, the two of them seem to freeze. Oliver's heart skips a beat when he can physically feel Percy tensing up.

He kisses him.

Very awkwardly.

He made little action with his lips, just gently brushing his against the other boy's. The boy in question grins. Now it's Oliver's turn to flush deep red.

"ha-HA! No, wait, no, Oliver, wait."

Percy pulls Oliver back towards him by the arm. They're tangled with each other again, Oliver giving in to the urge to smile, just a bit, even after being embarrassed.

They kiss. Properly this time. It's the best thing Oliver's felt in his life. When they pull away, he whispers,

"Are you my boyfriend now?"

Percy smiles.

"Yes."

In fifth year, nightmares attack. O.W.Ls. Percy never sleeps anymore.

Oliver has to drag him away from his work table and force him onto his bed. When that bed later becomes repurposed for more studies, Oliver forces him onto his own bed. They sleep together and their dorm mates start getting suspicious.

Oliver sleeps in pajama bottoms and nothing else. Percy sleeps in a sweater and boxers. They spoon and Oliver rests his arm in front of Percy's only exit to stop him from crawling out of bed to study. Little does he know, Percy would never dare leave.

During the waking hours, Oliver drags Percy to other important places, such as breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The outdoors. Interaction with other human beings. It's a tough life out here for him.

When the exams finally start approaching, they do not stop making out. It's the only thing that gets Percy's mind off things. Only because there's nothing more distracting than Oliver's mouth.

To his own surprise and nobody else's, Percy passes his O.W.Ls with flying colours. Oliver passes alright despite not studying.

In sixth year it's the same for their N.E.W.Ts.

Something changes in the relationship between Percy and the rest of the student body, especially the girls. Oliver knows he's gotten taller. And his freckles have cleared enough for his gorgeous face to be visible. His voice is still as beautiful as it was in fourth year. He's started rolling up the sleeves of his sweaters, and the halls seem to swoon rapidly when they spot his forearms. Oliver always knew that Percy could have this power over people; he'd been subject to it himself. But it annoys him. And what's even worse is that Percy doesnt seem to notice when he's being flirted with.

He gets into the habit of writing on Oliver with pens, a strange Muggle device that's actually pretty nifty. Some mornings, Oliver wakes up with markings he doesn't even remember. Percy writes on his chest a lot. Draws on his collarbone. The most repeated word is Percy's name.

Oliver looks in the mirror one day, at his shirtless body.

PROPERTY OF PERCIVAL IGNATIUS WEASLEY

It says this all over his torso.

He grins. No one's stealing Percy from him anytime soon.

They pass their N.E.W.Ts.

The Summer Before Seventh Year

France is a gorgeous place, Oliver realises. Filled with gorgeous girls, too. He's lounging at the beach when one of them asks him out. He's put on the spot and exposed, wearing nothing but his swimming shorts and sunglasses. He fumbles over his words.

"Err, I mean, no..." The girl frowns. She has gorgeous eyes. "I mean, yes, sure. Is Friday at 7 PM okay with you?"

It doesn't even occur to him that she's a Muggle.

Immediately after he's uttered these words, he regrets it. But he can't stand her up. And she's already walking away. Merlin, Percy's gonna kill him.

It's just one date and Oliver doesn't even enjoy. They don't touch each other at all; they don't even hold hands. But Oliver knows what he's done, and he knows what he has to do.

He writes a letter.

I love you. I'm sorry. I couldn't live with myself if I kept it secret.

He sends it away with his black owl.

At the Burrow, Percy receives two letters back to back on his birthday. The first is from Hogwarts, confirmation that he's this year's Head Boy. He jumps around the kitchen, all dignity forgotten, and hugs his mother with an enormous grin on his face.

The second is from Oliver.

How quickly Percy's face turns sour. Mrs Weasley asks if he's okay.

Tears sting his eyes. Outside, he tells his mother everything.

One day before the start of the school year, the Weasley's are staying at the Leakey Cauldron overnight. Percy hears pebbles being thrown at his window and goes to see who it is.

Oliver Wood. Merlin.

Percy goes downstairs, striding towards his partner. Punches him in the face and immediately feels bad, but doesn't let that stop him. His voice is somewhere between a whisper and a yell and a sob,

"How could you?"

"I'm so sorry, Percy."

"Why did you do it?"

"We didn't do anything. Didn't touch her. I remember what you wrote on me."

Percy breathes in deep.

"I wasn't talking about just your body, Oliver. I was talking about you. All of you." He exhales, trying to hold himself together.

"I wouldn't think twice about rejecting some Muggle girl for you. You think I didn't notice when the whole female population at school suddenly wanted to date me? Just because of my body? I resisted them for you, Oliver. Because I love you. Why couldn't you do that for me?"

"I don't know. I'm so, so sorry."

They decide to take a break from their relationship. When they start attending school again, their dorm mates wonder why they've stopped sleeping together.

#perciver #percy weasley #oliver wood #hp #<3 #this turned very angsty indeed #wrote this from 1AM to 2AM on low battery because it needed to be written #youre welcome

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ooihcnoiwlerh · 4 months

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I have provided fresh meat, my Darlings!

The link to the entire fic as well as the new chapter is provided above.

@blazeflays @wo-ming-bai @richardslady121 Also please let me know if you would also liked to be tagged with updates!

CW: dubious consent; arranged marriage; forced marriage; forced pregnancy; rough sex; implied/referenced child abuse; blood kink; problematic smut; implied/referenced sexual abuse; implied/referenced torture

Chapter summary: Feyd-Rautha and the Reader look at each other and think, "They need work, but it's fine. I'm training them."

Chapter Notes:

-This chapter doesn't have quite as much plot or action and is generally more introspective/kind of shows a turning point and transition to both the Reader starting to learn to play the game and Feyd-Rautha seeking to challenge and unnerve her. Basically the Reader thinking, "I don't think I can reasonably make him better but I can make him treat me better" and Feyd thinking, "I can make her worse😈" -There have been a lot of interpretations of Feyd-Rautha's Darlings given that there's little information we're really given within the movie and I really like the theory that I've seen going around that they're effectively animals with human bodies that were experimented on by the Bene Tleilax.

CHAPTER SEVEN: YOU'RE LEARNING

You wake up early the next morning to your morning coffee and a reminder of your mother’s advice. She dispensed it more than once over the years, enough that you were able to repeat it verbatim: sometimes a person isn’t a person, but an obstacle. Sometimes they’re obstacles that you need to face, problems that you need to solve. Find out what they need that you can use to get ahead.

So what does Feyd-Rautha want and how do you get it for him in order to temper him, make him more amenable to you? He’s made clear at this point what he doesn’t want: compassion that he’s undoubtedly misconstrued as pity, any reminders of his childhood and adolescence, and any insinuations–intentional or otherwise–that he’s inadequate as a man.

That leaves what he does want from you, and for the most part you think you know. He wants you to have his children, and that’s in progress if not now, then soon. He wants, well, other than last night, he’s been transparent that he wants you , carnally if for nothing else.

He also wants you to properly learn to fight at the level he wants, and there’s no way it’s just for your sake, or even wanting you to stay safe as the mother of his future children. Those are a given.

You can’t forget the way he’d gotten hard during your training and the way he spoke about it later. You hadn’t seen it in the arena when he was slashing throats with theatricality and precision but little else, but this must be intimate for him. It doesn’t surprise you once you think about it; a man who enjoys the taste of your blood would most certainly get off on getting a knife at your throat, even if he’s not allowed to cut it.

So how do you use that? The Reverend Mother Mohiam all but stated that seduction was the key to tempering and subduing him into something you can handle but that’s easier said than done. You’ve understood on some level for years now that you’d one day have to learn to use your sex as a tool, but it’s easier to implement in theory rather than practice. The limited experience you’ve had before this–kisses both stolen and given freely at night when you’d slipped away unsupervised, fondling over the clothes, above the waist, and once grasping and sliding your hand over a boy you’d liked as he’d panted and moaned directions at you and you’d frantically tried to finish him off before either of you could get caught--weren’t for an agenda but for its own enjoyment. Before your wedding night the only person who’d dared go beneath your skirts was you. And then, of course, you’re reasonably certain that most men don’t keep an entire armoire of devices to use or have used on them while in bed, that most men aren’t eager to taste their wife’s blood, that most men don’t carry around the kind of shame and buried anger that your husband does wrapped in a deep-seated need to hurt and be hurt.

But that’s the hand that you’ve been dealt, and the only leverage you’ll be getting out of this marriage is by appealing to those desires and using your own body as a tool to keep him satiated and keep you in the best of his care.

By the time you’ve finished plaiting your hair you’ve decided that you’ve learned enough since your wedding night that you can try and use to your advantage. You’ll keep adapting and if one of the ways to win him over is at knifepoint, then so be it.

And if he wants to banish everyone from the Training Halls so he can rut into you like an animal next to a rack of knives, then fine. You can take him however he comes to you.

You try to keep all this in mind as you leave your chambers and take to the Training Halls for another lesson.

Feyd-Rautha already appears to have broken a sweat. Drills, you assume, and done alongside his men if their matching sheens are anything to go by.

Korvo’s back to train you, he says. He needed to have part of his jaw wired shut but otherwise he’s fine; he just won’t be able to talk much for a while.

And strangely enough it’s true; whatever Healer Korvo went to did an excellent job because there’s not a lot of bruising or swelling. It occurs to you that he looks a few years older than Feyd, and you can’t help but wonder what Korvo thought about the hushed rumors about the Baron’s proclivities years ago. About Feyd-Rautha, the boy who’s become the man he now serves.

As for your husband, it’s as if the past couple of nights never happened. He seems indifferent as he hands you your shield device and a knife. There’s not a trace of the quiet rage from early yesterday morning nor the cold domination of last night. Not that you were ever going to ask him, especially not with other people around, but he gives you your answer to the silent question, When are we going to talk about yesterday? The answer? Never .

He has Korvo start off slowly with you, a warm-up of sorts, movements guarded as you go over strikes and parries before taking over for the rest of your session.

You think you’re prepared for it this time as he starts to speed up, stops going through the motions and actually starts sparring with you. You tell yourself that no one’s going to catch you unawares again, but well. His training is a lot more extensive than yours. You let out a yelp, realizing yet again that you weren’t focused enough on his footwork and he’s taken the opportunity to trip you. You stumble, catching yourself just in time to avoid a fall.

“You’ve had a day to rest,” Feyd says. “There’s no reason you can’t be pushed farther.”

To rest . He was the one that told you not to come and train yesterday. You clench your jaw and strike again. If anything Feyd-Rautha seems amused by your irritation and sends you stumbling again with a swat on the backside with the flat of his knife.

You turn, incredulous and with an insult on the tip of your tongue.

“Don’t strike in anger,” he says, holding back a smirk. You raise your chin and try to level your gaze at him as you try to collect yourself.

Hey, this is actually a good sign , a part of you realizes. There’s something almost close to playful in the way he’s looking at you right now. He’s already in a far better mood than he was yesterday . This is working for him.

You roll your shoulders and take a defensive stance, silently gesturing for him to strike first, and this time he actually grins.

Breakfast afterwards is its own task. You’ve gotten your appetite back this morning, but only when you forget everything except your own hunger and especially try your best to ignore the man at the head of the table. You’ll try to bury what you know about the Baron for now, or at least try to act like he doesn’t disgust you. Not that he’d care what you think of him, not like you can do anything about it.

Instead you wonder about what motherhood looks like on this planet. You’ll not want for anything, you’re sure, in terms of space for the baby and help raising it, but you hope the Baron isn’t an indicator of how children are raised here. You haven’t seen many children in the Fortress–the sons and daughters of captains and generals, you’re sure–and you haven’t interacted with any. Feyd-Rautha mentioned military and combat training for any sons you’ll have but what about general schooling?

When the children come, surely you’ll be a part of their lives somehow? You’ll make certain of it. You have to; they’ll be raised in the Harkonnen culture but they’ll still be half you , and you’ll do everything to make sure they never forget that, where you come from and the half of them that you represent.

“Not too tired from your training session, are you?” Feyd-Rautha asks, and you realize that you’ve been drifting off, staring into the distance. You hadn’t expected him to notice.

“Oh, no, husband,” you tell him. “Just lost in thought. Actually, I was curious about where one might put a nursery in the private quarters.” Not that there would’ve been any use for them within the royal family in decades, but surely there must have been something installed before?

As soon as Feyd starts to answer, the Baron interrupts, “What are you training her for?”

“Just in the event of an emergency or ambush, I want her to be prepared to defend herself. If the time ever comes that I’m not there to do it for her,” Feyd-Rautha adds.

The Baron looks at him with those beady blue eyes. “You really think such a thing will ever happen, boy?” he asks, and there’s an undercurrent to his tone that makes you look away, never mind that they’ve started talking about you as if you aren’t there.

Boy . As if not just Feyd’s title but his very manhood is a privilege his uncle bestows on him that he can revoke at a moment’s notice.

Feyd ignores the taunt. “Just planning ahead,” he says. It doesn’t come back up. When you excuse yourself to use the bathroom the Baron doesn’t react when you come back. He barely seems to notice you’re there.

To him, you are not family. You are the orifice his handsome young nephew buries himself in and the birthing canal that will add to the Harkonnen lineage, but not a real person who’s earned any familiarity with him nor will you ever be. That suits you just fine and you find that you’d rather he ignore you than pay any special attention to you, just so long as he never gets to sink his claws into your future children.

Speaking of which, “The Fortress has everything you could need,” Feyd says. “Our children will have their own quarters and plenty of staff to watch over them.”

And how about allowing me to watch over them? you want to ask, but won’t, especially since you’re not alone. Or do ladies of leisure outsource all of that here? Idrisa will know; you’ll save your real questions for her.

After breakfast Feyd-Rautha offers you his arm. “I imagine you’re interested in the relaxation chambers now?” he asks. “They provide massages. Great for the joints.”

“I could be persuaded,” you tell him, feeling not just sore from earlier this morning but from two days ago. You’d never considered yourself a lazy person but you’ve also never committed to any kind of daily training regimen and the nighttime and occasionally additional morning routines in the bedroom certainly haven’t helped.

“It’s interesting,” you tell him, “training with you and seeing how you do it, even if I’m not there for all of it.”

“That wasn’t my last training session for the day,” he says. “I’m going back soon.”

You blink. “Why?” you ask him. He’d clearly started early and gotten his heart pumping by the time you’d arrived.

“To be as physically prepared as I can for the arena showing on my birthday. It’s less than three weeks away at this point,” he says.

You look over at him with your brows furrowed. What does he really need extra preparation for? He’s in no danger, there’s no real risk.

He seems to understand your confusion. “It’s important that I look like I'm in top form,” he explains, which just presents further questions.

How will they even know what your body looks like? If it’s anything like last time, you’ll be the only fighter in the arena that’s fully dressed .

“Well, alright,” you finally. You look back at him. “So you’re going to have to get changed again into training gear, and then shower again and change again after that?”

“Yes,” he says, voice curt. “Appearance is important here.”

Yours is, certainly , you don’t tell him. But you do realize that your uncle’s still the Baron and he floats around in his suspensor chair wearing a long nightgown? If he’s ever cared about his appearance, he must’ve stopped years ago . You suppose that it’s one of many ways that Feyd’s turned out differently from him, although not the most important. It’s not for nothing that even though you have no idea how he’ll turn out as a parent–yet another thing that scares you about this–he still won’t be as bad of a parental figure as his uncle.

He looks at you for a moment and you realize that you haven’t spoken and have just enough sense to realize that giving a simpering compliment about his looks will come across as not only disingenuous but suspicious. “My apologies,” you admit. “I was just thinking about what expectations will be placed on our children.”

“Our son, although we’ll need more than one, will embody all Harkonnen core values: power, ambition, resilience, intellect. I’ll accept no less and neither will anyone else on Geidi Prime,” he says. How long has he been thinking about fatherhood, you wonder? Or is he repeating what he’s been told time and time again what the Baron wants out of him?

“And if one of our children is a daughter?” you ask, hoping that doesn’t happen. It’s bad enough to be a man on this planet.

“She’ll be expected to be gracious, discreet, and always careful and cognizant of her surroundings,” Feyd says. “She’ll be composed even under pressure and adaptable.”

You try to absorb this, wondering how much he thinks you fit that mold yourself and assuming that you come up short. “I thought the first word you were going to say was fertile ,” you tell him.

“That goes without saying,” he says. “It’ll be her greatest contribution to the family to add to its lineage.”

I think you just described my responsibilities and expectations here, you think as he escorts you to the relaxation chambers.

Before he leaves he gives you a brief kiss–a little reward, perhaps, for minding yourself. “You’re learning,” is all he says.

You’d expected the rooms to have the same austere black and gray background as the Dining Halls, the Throne Room, even the bedrooms, but whatever materials used for the doors and panels emulate the colors and patterns of cedar even though you doubt it’s real wood and the textured walls are painted a warm, pale cream. It feels like a different environment entirely, reminiscent of the women’s bathhouses on your home planet. The attendant inside recognizes you immediately, although you assume that it’s hardly a challenge. “ You can’t mistake the Na-Baroness ,” you’re sure servants tell each other, “ she’s the only one in this Fortress with hair. ”

Most of the attendants are women, and again most of them seem young, hardly more than girls.

“Welcome, Na-Baroness. We do so hope that you enjoy our accommodations,” the first attendant says, her head in a respectful decline as she curtsies. “How may we be of service today?”

When you tell her that you were hoping for a simple massage because your joints have been feeling stiff she reacts as though you’ve told her that all your bones have shattered.

“I’m so sorry to hear you’ve been in discomfort, Na-Baroness,” she says. “We’ll make sure to ease all aches and pains.”

As she guides you away and towards a private room you sense people looking at you and notice a couple of higher-ranking women in dressing robes, undoubtedly here for a bit of relaxation themselves. As soon as you look over at them, they glance away, pretending that they’re looking off into the distance. You want to stop, walk over, and introduce yourself to them ( they know who you are, though. Everyone knows that the Na-Baron just married an arranged non-Harkonnen bride from another planet ) but you don’t get the chance. Instead you tear your gaze away to follow the attendant to another room with what you must assume is a synthetic material that effectively mimics the appearance and grain pattern of wood, complete with a changing station, a table with oils and towels, and in the middle a covered massage table with a servant on either side who bow as soon as you enter.

It’s an interesting experience, to be sure. The servants attending to you are quiet and gracious, but you’re made starkly aware again of your foreignness.

Your hair confuses them, for one thing. They look at and touch it as if they’re not sure whether or not they think it’s attractive when you've spent your entire life before Geidi Prime being told that it’s beautiful. They’re gentle with you, careful when undressing you and guiding you to a massage table. When kneading oil into your sore muscles they treat you as if you’re delicate, even though they’re smaller than you are. They work silently, your own muffled moans when they work out a particularly sore spot the only sounds other than the ambient mist coming from the next room.

You wonder at first if it’s because they only speak Harkonnen and not the Imperial Standard, but as they’re getting finished one of the young women–probably not much older than you, although it’s still difficult to tell without any hair or eyebrows to better indicate her age–timidly asks, “Would the Na-Baroness like to be given stimulation as part of her massage?”

You blink, not sure you heard correctly, and raise yourself up on your elbows. “Stimulation?” you repeat, brow furrowing.

“Some people enjoy other kinds of massage as a form of relief, Na-Baroness. We’d be honored to indulge you if you prefer,” she says, looking down the moment you look up.

I’m still lost , you almost tell her before it sinks in. “Oh!” you say, the single word slipping out. The woman flinches, undoubtedly worried that she’s offended you. It’s probably why she hasn’t said a word this entire time; she has no idea how to talk to you, what you would consider appropriate or not, and would rather not speak at all than risk saying the wrong thing. You gape for a moment before managing, “No thank you. A-a normal massage is plenty.”

She bows. “Very well, Na-Baroness. Is there anything else we can do in service to you?”

You’d been curious about the other rooms but suddenly you wish for nothing more than to leave. “No thank you, not today. The massage was all I needed.”

“It was our pleasure, Na-Baroness. We are at your disposal,” the woman says, words you’ve already heard multiple times. “Let us help you redress.”

They gently wipe off any excess oil with damp washcloths and dry you off before guiding you back into your clothes as if scared they’ll hurt you, or rather, scared that you’ll say something that gets them in trouble. Even a foreign woman commands fear if she’s married to the right Harkonnen, even if she’s never going to be a true Harkonnen herself and whether they’re scared of you because of who you’re married to or also because of who you are, it makes no difference.

In spite of everything, when you get back to your quarters you realize that physically, you feel great ; better than you have since your wedding. You feel pliant and loose-limbed, your skin soft and supple. In theory it should give you all the energy you need to continue your studies of this planet and its language.

But your self-imposed Harkonnen lessons aren’t holding your attention; the grammar structure is fairly simple, and you’ve learned a few basic words and phrases (and obscenities, because you’re pretty sure that that’s most of what Feyd-Rautha grunts in your ear when he’s fucking you) and you can’t help your restlessness as you settle back in your chair.

You tap your fingertips against your desk, mind wandering to your husband, your body remembering with a throb how he feels inside you. You’re getting used to it more and more, for the most part even learning to enjoy it.

He might be coming back from his second training session soon. Maybe he’s already come back and is taking his second shower or bath of the day. Maybe you’ll ask him about his armoire, which he hasn’t opened for you since that first night, but, and you pause, thinking it over, picturing him sweaty from his training, and think, no. The armoire can wait. If you want to improve your seduction game, you can start by being the one to initiate your encounters. You can start now.

You strip again, wondering how he’ll react to you entering his chambers. Hopefully amenable to it; he probably won’t dismiss you if you come to him like this. If nothing else he has an incentive to put a baby in you, you think as you wrap yourself up in one of your robes and pad over to your bathroom.

You press your ear to the door joining your bathroom to his. The water’s running: he must be showering. You wait, heart pounding, thinking, It will be fine. Think about this morning; he seemed reasonably happy with you this morning.

You shut your eyes for a moment, take a breath, and open the door.

He’s standing in the middle of his shower, his eyes on you from the moment you step inside. He turns the water off and watches you silently, eyes falling to your robe. He must be fully aware of the fact that you’re wearing nothing underneath.

“Sorry to interrupt, husband,” you say, hoping that your intuition is correct. “I was just…” bored? Interested in your company? Curious about how else you decompress after training? You swallow, fiddling with the sash of your robe.

Feyd says nothing at first as he steps out of the shower and onto the soft mat on the black granite floor. Any words you have die before they can reach your lips as he steps in closer and the height difference between you feels vaster than it’s felt before.

His eyes flicker to your robe. “Take that off,” he says.

You look him in the eye, raising your chin slightly as you unfasten the sash around your waist and brush the robe off your shoulders and onto the floor, presenting yourself for him as naked as the day you were born. The two of you stand in silence for a moment; he’s dripping wet and you’re, well…you bite your lip and hesitate before reaching out, wrist turning as you wrap a hand around him. You feel awkward in the ensuing silence, brushing your thumb over the tip of him and glancing between his face and his cock, breath catching in your throat as you see the way his gaze darkens. You open your mouth to speak but find yourself at a loss for words.

It doesn’t occur to you that he might prefer this to any polished seduction or that he likes your nerves, your earnestness. That you've come to him as if yesterday never happened and like he's a whole intact man with no buried shame. He stiffens rapidly under your touch, silently daring you to keep fondling him. You wonder if it would be worth it to sink to your knees and take him into your mouth–you’ve done it once before as a preamble to the act itself and remember every detail and lesson of it vividly–when Feyd-Rautha starts walking you backwards, backwards, until you reach his bathroom wall and you drop your hand in surprise.

“I…” you start and he silences you with a kiss, gripping the back of your head and tilting your head up to meet him. Once he has you where he wants you, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, his hands slide down your sides, over your hips and ass, coming to the backs of your legs, nudging you forward.

“C’mon,” he says, his rasp quiet but commanding in the echoes of his bathroom. You can’t help your nervous laugh as you hop up and he catches you, hands under your thighs that he quickly wraps around his hips, holding you in place as his cock brushes against your folds, your lower belly. It’s filled out and ready and you bite your lip as you think: how to maneuver…?

You glance back up at him and his expectant gaze. Come on, pet, he seems to tell you. You’re a clever little thing, you can figure it out, and so you grip his cock again and position it at your entrance, almost laughing at how two weeks ago you’d have been hard-pressed to know exactly where it is and how to properly penetrate it.

You gasp, head falling forward as you sink down onto him and cry out as he jerks his hips up, filling you the rest of the way. It’s always such a deep ache and stretch when he buries himself in you and you’re never quite given enough time to adjust to the size of him before he starts moving and it feels like he’s so deep in you that can hardly breathe. Every time he picks a new angle to fuck you in it almost shocks you how he seems to find another way to make as though there’s no part of your insides that he hasn’t touched, and you hold onto him, trying to rock back down on him, and finding you can only really cling to him. He buries his face in your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair and the tonic you use for it, before pausing, shifting you further onto him, and moving away from the wall. You yelp, tightening your thighs around his waist and wondering what he’ll do next, where he’ll take you.

He carries you, then, out of the bathroom and to his bed where he drops you unceremoniously on your back and following you as you go. You both grunt as he lands on top of you and pushes your legs further back towards your chest and he braces his arms on either side of your head.

It’s hard and rough and fast, your knees pushed back nearly to your shoulders that he spreads wide to make room for his own. Your cries as he pounds into your open, vulnerable body spur him on and he drops his forehead to yours, panting against your mouth. He speaks in the Imperial Standard this time when he says, “Like a little songbird, making pretty noises for me,” and brings his mouth to the juncture of your neck and jaw.

You let out a whine as he continues, his tongue flickering and then lapping at the sensitive skin like he’s done before to your cunt. You gasp and readjust your grip on his shoulders, almost stunned at the visceral reactions he can pull from just that. You’d known it was a sensitive area, had been kissed there before, but especially juxtaposed against the pounding of him inside of you it’s–it’s–

“A -aaah! ” you manage, clenching around him, barely holding on, your legs shaking as he speeds up, his mouth continuing the onslaught. The whimpers that spill out of you escalate and turn to a sharp cry as he bares his teeth and bites down.

He grunts, hips pumping, as he comes inside of you, his teeth and lips on the sensitive skin of your neck and your arms wrapped around him. He gives one final thrust for good measure before dropping his head to your neck, his breath harsh. You hold onto him for a moment as he pauses and pulls out.

Will you let me hold you again? I liked that. I liked when you rested on me and I got to pet you as if you could ever be made docile . You don’t ask, and don’t know how to. He rolls over onto his back.

“I trust that training went well, husband?” you ask instead after you catch your breath and start to come down.

He grunts an affirmative and for a moment you think that’s the end of it. He takes a breath, though, mulling over the silence between the two of you. You wait, sensing his realization that you’d like to hear more. That the two of you can have a normal conversation like a normal married couple. “Sparred with a few of my men, then a couple of criminals in the dungeons. They don’t provide as much of a challenge but it still keeps me alert to practice on someone who actually wants to kill me.”

“They weren’t sedated?” you ask.

He shakes his head, exhaling. “Not these ones. Didn’t want to contaminate their bloodstream,” he says.

You think back to over a week ago, and something Idrisa told you. “So you could safely feed them to your Darlings afterwards?” you ask.

He turns his head to you and you do the same, mirroring him. His full lips part as he mulls your words over. “Now where’d you hear about them?” he asks, clearly trying to think back to a time when he’s mentioned them to you and coming up with nothing.

“Idrisa,” you add when you don’t see any recognition in his eyes at the name, “my personal attendant, mentioned that you had pets that you fed human remains.”

This piques his interest, it seems. He rises up on one elbow, turning to his side, leaning over you. “How did she describe them?” he asks.

You shrug, not sure how that makes a difference. “She didn’t. She just said that you feed human flesh to what you called your Darlings,” you say, not bothering to hide your distaste. You’re not going to pretend to like or condone everything he does; not like it would stop him.

Feyd-Rautha’s eyes glint. He breaks into a smile that is equal parts delighted and cruel. “Is that really all she told you?” he says. He doesn’t move a millimeter, but you can sense his growing excitement coiled tight within him like he’s ready to pounce.

“So…what are they? Canine or feline? Or aquatic?” you ask, not sure if you want to know or get a more specific image but asking all the same.

Feyd-Rautha looks at you as though you’ve given him the greatest gift he didn’t even have to ask for. “Would you like to meet them?” he asks instead of answering your question.

No, of course not , you want to tell him. I have no interest in meeting a bunch of animals who devour people whole . “Sure. Why not,” you say.

His black teeth and gums are unnerving against the pallor of the rest of him before his smile turns closed-mouthed again into a smirk.

When you’ve both dressed and left his chambers, you assume that he’s going to lead you to a dungeon, but he instead starts walking down a corridor not far from the private wing.

“I’d keep them closer,” he says over his shoulder, “but they make such a mess.”

So a pool or a moat would be out of the question, but a shark tank is still feasible , you think.

He reaches a door, and the first moment you step inside and see what’s on the padded platform in front of you, you want to roll your eyes and walk back out.

So he’s taken me on a detour first to meet his concubines , you think.

Three naked, lithe, bald-headed women lie curled up sleeping, nestled against one another like a pile of kittens. You raise your eyebrows, letting out an irritated huff. You should’ve known that he keeps concubines; most leaders from Major Houses do. It’s just that he’d seemed so preoccupied with you that you’d almost forgotten that very possibility. These are the women he normally slakes his lust with and what he’ll go back to once you’ve confirmed that you’re carrying his seed. You have a snide remark on the tip of your tongue about how nice it is to meet the other women he fucks.

But then you notice that there’s blood drying on their hands, caking their sharp-nailed fingertips and you realize what the smell of the iron tang that permeated the air really is. Dread settles in the pit of your stomach.

“What’s going on?” you say aloud to no answer.

The women stir, and then they open their eyes. They have neither pupils nor irises. Pure ink black, stares, unthinking, back at you.

When you first met him you’d been quick to assume that Feyd-Rautha lacked all humanity beyond his physical form, but this is what it truly looks like when a person has no human essence. You’re not sure what they’re seeing when they look at you but they perceive nothing except the sight of warm meat.

Abomination! Abomination! you think, too frozen to scream it out loud, the sound of it only coming out of you in a pitiful squeak when they start to move, clambering towards you.

Oh, Great Mother, they move like animals, on all fours . One of them opens her mouth, teeth and gums as black as her master’s but her teeth are sharpened into fangs she bares in what may be a smile, may be a snarl.

Oh, fuck this.

You turn and start to run when Feyd-Rautha holds his arm out to grab you around the chest and pull you to his side as he says something in Harkonnen that you try to grasp.

Something-something woman something-something food. Okay, that was a negation. He’s saying something like “she’s not food.” You gasp and dig your nails into his forearm, unable to look away from them, the way they tilt their heads at you.

You can hear them hiss and chatter, put out that he hasn’t presented them with a meal, and you realize that they’re speaking in neither the Imperial Standard nor Harkonnen battle-language but a vague imitation of human speech.

“What the fuck? What the fuck? ” you say aloud, struggling in Feyd-Rautha’s grip, watching as they scurry closer to the two of you, sniffing at you in particular.

You stare at the fathomless depths of their unblinking black eyes and how they tilt their heads, even their curiosity utterly fucking terrifying.

“You said you wanted to meet my Darlings,” Feyd-Rautha says in a satisfied tone. “Don’t be rude. They like you.” He says something in Harkonnen to the women that you can’t decipher, and their chattering ceases and demurs into near-purring.

One of them sniffs and nuzzles at your stomach and you flinch, wondering how quick she’d be to open her mouth and take a bite of your sensitive skin if her master allowed it. Your stomach that within a few months will swell with Feyd-Rautha’s heir. Does she understand what any of that means? Do any of them?

How naive you were, thinking that he kept animals as his pets, normal women as his concubines. How silly and childish to think that he wouldn’t be as much of a degenerate as you feared.

Just when I think I’ve adjusted to this insane planet I see something even worse.

Feyd-Rautha closes the door and directs his gaze up and down the length of your body, the tremors in your hands, your entire body shaking, in fact, and settles on your face. He says nothing, waits for you to go first.

“What…” you bring a hand to your forehead, hoping that this is a nightmare, “ are they?”

He doesn’t smirk but you can sense his satisfaction. He undoubtedly gets some entertainment out of each time he gets to introduce someone new to his Darlings, or rather, inflict his Darlings on them. He probably doesn’t get the opportunity as often as he’d like. “They’re a Bene Tleilax experiment,” he says. “They thought we might enjoy them.”

“Why would they…” commit a crime against nature like this?

“Because they can,” he says.

“Then why have them?” you ask.

He looks at you as if you’re the unreasonable one. “They already exist, and I’ve found some use for them.”

As his concubines . “So you…” you feel nauseous at the idea, barely able to say it aloud, “...fuck them?”

Your shoulders sag with relief when you he says, “No, I don’t fuck them, Y/N. They’re nice to look at but it would be akin to fucking a wild animal. They can be entertaining, though. And they’re a decent tool for intimidation.”

Entertaining . You could use hundreds of words to describe what you just saw and the wretched nature of their existence and entertaining would not be one of them.

Still, you realize what he means. His menagerie needs to eat to stay alive, and it provides incentive to stay on the Na-Baron’s good side. No one wants to end up as food. And how many men can honestly say, “ If you don’t do as I say I’m going to feed you to the trio of feral cannibal women I keep in my Fortress” ? It’s a far more unique and memorable threat than any you’ve heard.

So they’re not his concubines; you don’t believe for one moment that he’d care enough to lie to you about that, which just makes you wonder where his real concubines are. “Who were you fucking before I was assigned to you? I wasn’t your first.”

Feyd-Rautha’s lips quirk up for a moment in a brief almost-smile. “There are times when people see me in the arena and want to know if I’m as much of a brute as I seem,” he says.

“Are you? With them?” You haven’t forgotten that he’s expected to be better-behaved with you than he probably would be with someone else. Someone potentially disposable.

His expression is carefully neutral as he seems to think on how much he wants to frighten you some more or how much he’ll let your own imagination do the work. “I give them what they’re looking for,” he says after a moment.

You glance back over at the door. How many people whisper about his trio of naked women the way they keep their head down about the Baron? Does that not bother him, how people who know about this undoubtedly think, If he’s willing to stick his cock into them , what else is he capable of?

“You do know that calling them your Darlings, having them naked like this–it makes it seem like you have sex with them,” you tell him.

Feyd-Rautha looks unsurprised and unmoved. “They can be sedated into being dressed sometimes. It’s just too cumbersome to try and change them every day,” he says. “Besides, people can think what they want,” he says. “I don’t care, just as long as they fear my name.”

Very Harkonnen of you , you think. “What are their names?” you ask instead.

He seems amused by the question. “Didn’t bother. They don’t need them,” he says.

You look back at the door. They can’t always have been like this, could they? “Did they not have names once? Before…this?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “They won’t remember.”

You can’t help but stare at him when he says that. These were people once , you don’t need to tell him because he doesn’t care. You don’t know what to say to him; the words dry up in your throat. Here you were trying to bring out the human side to him when you get a stark reminder that for many people that side of him doesn’t exist. You try to remember how the Reverend Mother assured you that he has weaknesses that you can use, just like any other man. How he has his own, albeit twisted, moral code and sense of honor.

Count yourself lucky that it extends to you, you think.

You don’t like yourself very much when you think about it, the palpable fear he instills in everyone he thinks he can readily discard, and the fact that you’ve already decided that you’ll do your best to overlook it, for now anyways. You have yourself and your future child to look after first.

#dune part 2 #dune 2 #feyd rautha #feyd rauth harkonnen #feyd x reader #feyd smut #feyd rautha smut #feyd x you #austin butler

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