#or exercising but might do a little before bed

[booksandberries]

maybe if I fall in love I'll learn to wake up early←person who is reading romance manga instead of studying

[racke7]

My internet has been investigated by a professional.

There might be something weird with the big cables (to quote the guy: the "inner-pair" and "outer-pair" of the eight-cables are of different lengths, but by all accounts still work just fine), but my own equipment has at least passed (no extra-fine for crying wolf for me).

The weird stability-thing continues to be weird. And current test is for them to switch my internet-provider (internet-provider has a use-contract with the cable-operators, who are the ones investigating) over the weekend. See if the problem is on that end.

It's possible that this is the case (at which point I guess I'll try to switch permanently), or that it's that weird cable-length resulting in the problem (which is... a whole different can of worms).

[letsgoletsgetit08]

ateez soft hours pt. 2

how they would treat you while you're on your period

maknae line

warning: mdni, period sex, smut

word count: 3.4k

ao3 link: maknae line

author's note: I uh. yeah.

choi san: "What's up, babe?" He sounds out of breath over the phone, "I'm finishing up at the gym."

"Everything hurts and I want to die." You whine.

"Oh, no, my poor baby! Do I need to bring you any supplies on my way over?" His voice was sweet, always so attentive. You felt lucky every day that he grew up with an older sister.

"No, I'm okay with all that, but thank you. I just want you to come lay on top of me with your entire body weight."

"Anything you want, honey. You know you could come join me at the gym, exercise helps relieve cramps, allegedly." He was mainly joking.

You groaned, "Ugh, Choi San stop talking about exercise right now or I'm going to turn homicidal. You know any other day I would have gone with you."

He laughed at your dramatics, "I know, precious. I just had to tease, I'm sorry. I'll be sweet the rest of the night, promise."

"I mean if you really want me to break a sweat, I have some ideas for cardio we could do later." Heat curls in your aching abdomen at the thought of it. Glad your boyfriend has never been squeamish about period sex.

"Oh?" He asked, you were silent until the implication hit him, "Ohhhh. Well, yes, of course." His voice lowered so he couldn't be heard by anyone around him, "You know I'll take care of you, baby. Make you feel so good. No touching yourself until I get there, okay?"

Your thighs clenched together at his words, "Okay, yes, I'll be good." Your voice was breathy, already laced with lust.

"Mmh, good girl. Already getting all bothered for me, aren't you? I'll see you soon, honey." He didn't give you a chance to reply before the line went dead.

San was so good at picking up on your cues, happy to take the lead or to follow, depending on your mood. You liked him any way you could get him but your favorite was when he gently took the reins, giving you soft but stern instructions and showering you with praise all night, talking you through every orgasm. The thought of it made it hard for you to keep the promise you had just made to him.

You decided to shower instead, waiting for him to come home, feeling a little yucky after being in bed all day.

By the time you emerged in nothing but a towel, San was already there.

"Hi, gorgeous." He enveloped you in a big hug. He had showered at the gym, it seemed, hair still damp, cheeks rosy, comfy in a t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Sannie." You sighed into his chest.

He pulled back and trailed his hands down your arms, "Look at you, all clean just for me?"

You nod, looking down, feeling shy and exposed. Hormones, probably.

He pulled the towel open to look at you, "Oh, honey. I'll never get over how stunning you are." He pulled the towel all the way off, tossing it over the still-open bathroom door, reaching for you again, hands warm as they fell to your slightly boated tummy. He always made you feel so beautiful even when you felt like a hot pile of dog shit. "I brought something." He kissed your forehead then went to his backpack, pulling out a bottle of massage oil, "Thought this might be nice. I know your body is achey. Does a massage sound nice?"

"It sounds incredible." You smile at him, tears in your eyes, feeling especially grateful for him in that moment.

"Come on then, jagi." He leads you to your bedroom, grabbing a new towel on his way, to keep the massage oil - and whatever other potential bodily fluids - off of your bedding.

He has you on your stomach, deft hands turning you to putty at their touch, paying special attention to your lower back, where he knows carries extra tension. You're nearly in a trance when he wipes one hand on the towel, still kneading one ass cheek with his other hand, evidently able to tell what the massage was doing to you, your core becoming wet with arousal. He removed his other hand and you hear a squirting noise. When his hand returns, you realize the noise had been him applying lube to his fingers, which were now teasing your already slick slit, up and down, movements slow. Your legs parted further on instinct.

"Yes, baby, that's it. This is what you wanted, hm? Don't worry, I'm going to make you feel good." San’s voice was low and you felt yourself grind back into his fingers at it. "Patience, love." He chuckled, "We have all the time in the world."

His fingers found your clit, applying pressure to either side of it, before finally brushing over the top, just briefly before they slid down your folds once again, his other hand spreading your ass cheek as he held his fingers to your entrance. He didn't have to apply much pressure at all, you were so turned on that your cunt sucked him in greedily. He thrust them in and out a few times before curling them forward, hitting your sweet spot. Your back arched at the sensation and you could tell he was smiling behind you, "Mmh, so responsive, jagiya. I could do this for hours."

And you believe him, too. He sets a pace but slows down when you try to fuck yourself back onto his fingers, "No, no, sweetheart. Let me bring you there. I want you as relaxed as you were when I was massaging you, okay?"

"Yes, sir." You manage, face squished by the mattress, brain floating towards another planet already.

"Good girl." He says, fingers returning to continue their ministrations.

At some point, his thumb finds your tight ring of muscle, taunting him as it sat there within reach right above your now absolutely quivering cunt, circling it and adding just a little pressure. A gasp leaves your mouth at the sensation, surprised at how much you like it. "Mmh, so sensitive. You like this don't you?" You were so wet, every nerve alight at his touch, seconds from falling apart, holding on because you knew he would want to tell you when to let go. "You've been so good for me, angel, why don't you go ahead and come? On my fingers like a good girl."

Your body obeyed immediately, pleasure rolling through you. You thought your orgasm might never end, it was unlike anything you had ever felt before. "There we go baby, just like that. God, you're stunning." You were still clenching when he removed his fingers, just long enough to strip off his boxers and tank top, climbing back up and guiding the tip of his cock to your absolutely drenched core, letting you suck him in, inch by inch. The way he filled you had you immediately working up to your second peak, "Christ, honey, you're so wet. So. Fucking. Tight." He punctuated his words with the snap of his hips as your walls clenched around him again and again.

"Sannie-" You cried out in pleasure.

"I know, kitten, I'm right here with you." He purred. By the time you're worked up to your third release, he's cumming in perfect time with you, cock quivering as he pumped you full. "Oh my god, yes, fuck." He cried out. "You were made to take me, weren't you, baby? So fucking good for me." He praised you as he pulled out, collapsing beside you and dragging your limp body over to lay on his glistening chest.

"Sannie, that was... fuck." You couldn't form proper words, "Thank you."

"No need to thank me, jagi." He kissed your forehead, "The pleasure is all mine."

song mingi: He barely stirs as you roll on top of him, body aching, too early to do anything about it.

"Mmh, baby," Mingi’s morning voice is deep, raspy, one of his big hands pulls your leg up over his hips, the other tugging you closer to his chest.

You fall back asleep for a while. When you wake up, your head is a little more clear, and you realize you've bled through your underwear onto Mingi’s boxers. Heat flushes your cheeks in embarrassment and he stirs as he feels your body tense.

"'S wrong, jagi?" He rubs your back as his eyes blinked open slowly.

"Mingi, I'm so sorry, I-" you move your leg and he realizes what happened.

"C'mere." He pulls you back down into a slow kiss, apparently immune to your morning breath. You can't help but let out a moan as his hand finds your ass cheek, helping your hips grind into his thigh. "Yeah, you like that?" He all but growls into your ear as his hands work your stained underwear off, following with his own swiftly behind.

He rolls you over wordlessly, spooning you from behind, his already hard length in hand as you open your legs for him. He drags the head of his cock from your clit up to your soaked entrance, repeating it a few times until you're whining, grinding your ass back, begging to be taken.

"Oh, really?" He whispers, kissing down your shoulder, "You want me that bad, hm?"

"Please, Mingi, yes." You beg.

He holds his cock to your entrance, "Don't worry baby, I've got you." He pushes forward slowly, tip barely buried inside of you. "Go ahead, then." He instructs. You obey, working yourself down rather easily with the extra lubrication as you stretch over his large dick. You can tell he's watching himself disappear inside of you, his hair tickling your shoulder.

"Ah, fuck, jagi. You take me so well." He moans, beginning to lay long, lazy strokes. You knew when you first saw him dance on stage that his stroke game would be incredible, and you were pleased to find out how right you were when you started dating. It's only improved as he's gotten to know you better.

His hand reaches around to find your clit, fingers bumping into his shaft as he pleasures you, the perfect amount of pressure, circling and stroking. You were cramping so bad when you woke up but now your ab muscles had been given something real to focus on. You lean back, head falling to his broad shoulder as your whole body spasms in release. "Fuck yeah, just like that, baby." Mingi growls, his pace picking up as he works you through it, hips pumping harder and faster until he finally stills, and the feeling of his cock pumping you full of his seed is nearly enough to have you on the edge of coming again. All he has to do is play with your tender nipples and lay a few more strategic strokes and you're clenching around him again, breathless, whole body boneless, insides jellied.

You both caught your breath for a minute before Mingi spoke again. "Baby, I know we had plans for the farmers market today, but I'm sore from dance practice yesterday and I know you don't feel well. What if I make us some breakfast and start a load of laundry and then we can stay in all day and watch movies until I have to go to the studio tonight?"

You crane your neck around to kiss him, off-kilter from the odd angle, "That sounds perfect, baby."

"Mmh, good, I'm glad." He kissed you again, "Let me go grab you some Midol and start the shower, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you for being so sweet to me."

"Of course baby," He smiled as he extracted himself from your back, "I'm happy to. You always take care of me, it's the least I could do."

jung wooyoung: Hands on your waist startle you as you're washing dishes, audio book playing through your headphones concealing the noise of Wooyoung letting himself in.

“Ah!” You nearly drop the bowl in your hands, “Jesus! You scared the shit out of me!”

You feel yourself relax into his touch as he hooks his chin over your shoulder and moves one headphone off of your ear, “Baby, you're shouting.”

You huff as you place the bowl onto the drying rack, “Whose fault is that?”

He begins tickle you, “Not my fault!”

“Youngie!” You whine as you turn around in his arms, trying to evade his attacks, “Stop it!”

“Aw, grumpy,” his pout matches the one on your face.

You slap his chest playfully, “Hey, I have the right to be grumpy, my period just started.”

His expression turns sympathetic immediately, “Oh, jagi.” He kisses your forehead, “How can I help?”

You considered it for a second, “Well, I bought ingredients to make dinner but I really don't feel like cooking, so I was thinking about ordering in instead.”

“No way.” He grasped your face in his hands, “I'm gonna get you set up in the living room and then I'll get started cooking, okay?”

“Are you sure? You don't have-”

He cuts you off with a swift kiss, “No protesting. I'm happy to do it.”

You watch one episode of the show you've seen a thousand times, curled up on the living room couch, but as you see the preview for the next episode, you realize it's one you don't care much for, plus, the smell coming from the kitchen is calling your name. You turn off the TV and walk in right as Wooyoung is bending down to put the food in the oven to bake, making yourself right at home behind him on the island. He shuts the oven door and removes your light pink oven mitts- which look adorable on him - turning to spread your legs open so he can stand between them, arms caging you in as he presses his forehead to yours.

“Hi, beautiful.” You've always found his voice endearing, but it's especially so with the slight rasp it gets when he's jonesing for a you fix.

“Hi, handsome.” You barely get the words out before he's kissing you. Slow, deep movements from his mouth draw a moan from yours.

You can already feel heat pooling between your legs at his proximity and you pull back to ask, “Baby?”

“Yes, darling?” He smiles, eyes dark with desire, reveling in how he knows he drives you crazy.

“How much time do we have?”

“Twenty minutes,” His hand skims the waistband of your loose sleep shorts, sending shivers down your spine, “Plenty of time.”

You don't get a chance to reply before his fingers find their way inside your underwear, circling your throbbing bud slowly before dipping down to gather the slick that has gathered at your entrance, taking his time as he trails them back up, exploring your folds before resuming his ministrations at your clit.

Your hand finds his waist to hold onto for support, getting carried away with the sensations he's providing.

His thumb takes over for his fingers as they work their way south once again, circling your entrance before plunging them inside, curling them to hit your sweet spot.

“Wooyoung-” You gasp, your muscles already tensing at the magic he's working.

His lips tickle your earlobe as he whispers, “Shh, jagi, I've got you.”

Your head falls to his shoulder as his fingers set a pace, the sound of how wet you are at his touch only serving to double it.

You whimper as your walls start to clench around them and you can almost picture the smirk he's wearing, “That's it, pretty, just like that. Come on my fingers.” His words only intensify the sensation of pleasure as you clench around his fingers, panting as you call out his name.

He pulls his hand out when he's sure you've ridden out the waves, holding his slick fingers, streaked in some places with blood, in front of his face, devilish look on his face, eyebrow cocked.

“Wooyoung!” You scold him, “Don't you dare-”

But it's too late, he's popped his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean, eyes rolling back in his head at the taste.

Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Beep-beep!

The timer goes off, interrupting you from further chastising him.

“What?” A smile takes over his face, “You taste good all the time, honey.”

You roll your eyes, but secretly find it cute.

He insists on feeding you bites of your dinner later, wiping the corners of your mouth with a napkin when you're finished.

Later, in the shower, you let him bend you over and hit it from behind, pulling out last second to finish, hot liquid landing on your back, your ass. He helps you wash your body to make up for it.

Once in bed, he kisses you all over, making you giggle and squirm before finally relenting and tugging you to his chest, stroking your hair as your breath evens out and you drift off to sleep.

choi jongho: You almost wonder if the man has logged into your period tracking app on his phone, uncanny in how he can pretty much always predict it. Eyes studying you a few days out as you tear up unexpectedly at a particularly sappy car commercial. You find your cabinets stocked with your favorite snacks the next day. 

The next morning, you wake up bloated, cramping, and grumpy. As you head into the bathroom, you realize Jongho has re-stocked your pain killers and period supplies. You call him when you get back into bed. 

He answers on the second ring, “Hi, princess, how are you feeling today?” 

“I swear you're more accurate than my tracking app, you fortune teller.” You can't help but be amazed at his abilities. 

He chuckles, “No, peach, I just pay attention.”

You smile at the cute pet names. He's always trying out new ones on you. You can hear traffic in the background, “You're the best. What are you up to?” 

“I'm about five minutes from your apartment.” He answers. 

“Choi Jongho!” You giggle, “How did I get so lucky?” 

“I'm the lucky one, jagi. I'll see you soon.” 

He's good to his word, chocolate and a teddy bear in his arms, backpack slung over one shoulder when you open the door to let him in. 

“Baby!” You all but squeal, “You're too good to me.” 

He puts his things down on the coffee table and pulls you into a big bear hug, “Anything for my perfect girl.” 

You pull back and he traces your cheek with his thumb before leaning in to kiss you, his lips slow and careful, hands gentle as he pulls you close. Your tongue probes into his mouth and he allows it, a moan coming forward from somewhere deep in his chest. He detached his lips, “Do you want to go to your bedroom, sweetheart?” 

“Yes, please.” You simper. 

He scoops you up bridal style and carries you to your bed, placing you gingerly onto the bed, climbing on top of you, kissing you into the mattress. 

“Baby,” You stop him as he reaches for the hem of your shirt.

“What's up?” He falls to the bed beside you, not wanting to crowd you. 

“I'm probably going to sound crazy and too needy-”

“Hush, don't talk about my girlfriend like that. Tell me what you need, ma chérie.” 

You giggle at his attempt at French, “I don't really want to like… have sex. Because I feel icky. But I still want to. You know.” 

He smiles fondly at you, “Where's your vibrator, gorgeous?” 

You blush, pointing to your bedside table drawer. 

He is relentless with your favorite toy, talking you through multiple orgasms, leaving your legs jellied, panting and sweating.

“So good for me, darling. I love watching you come.” He praises you as he switches the vibrator off, placing it on the bed beside him, pulling your boneless body to his chest. 

“Thank you for understanding,” you murmur into his chest, “Sorry I didn't feel like doing more.” 

“You never need to apologize for something like that.” He kisses your forehead, “Promise I'm happy to do it anytime. Anything to help my baby feel good.” 

The teddy bear he brought is the weighted kind you microwave to help alleviate cramps, which he fixes up for you before curling up with you on the couch, chocolate within reach. He turns on your favorite comfort movie without being asked, humming the score softly. The sound of his voice melts your heart. You feel yourself drift off to sleep before the movie ends, with Jongho’s strong, warm hands moving absentmindedly across any expanse of skin within his reach, heart feeling fuzzy with affection towards your sweet boyfriend.

[mapis-putellas]

𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader

Words: 2897

Warnings: body image issues. Quite detailed too, so be careful and look out for yourselves.

Summary: After you tear your acl, your mental health takes quite a severe hit. [Requested]

Notes: one more draft to go after this, then we is done for a little while

It was no secret that Alexia was the epitome of fitness. Every muscle seemed to have its place on her body, sculpted from years of dedication on the field and in the gym. She was renowned for her strength and endurance, and her intense daily workouts left her with abs sharp enough to carve ice. Her legs were powerful, capable of sprinting up and down the pitch for ninety minutes straight, and when she wrapped them around you, every single coherent though you had immediately leaves your mind. It was impossible not to admire her—no, to adore her for it. She didn't just look incredible; she carried herself with a natural grace, a quiet confidence that made her strength seem even more alluring.

She was up before the crack of dawn every morning, lacing up her trainers and stretching quietly in the hallway while you mumbled sleepy protests from bed. And she'd just smile, soft and affectionate, bending down to press a kiss to your forehead before heading out.

Sometimes, she'd even sneak a second workout into her day, returning to the gym after training if she was feeling restless. It was her way of clearing her mind, finding her center amidst the stresses of her intense schedule. Her body was her temple, her mind, a fortress—and she was diligent in caring for both.

You were in good shape, too, of course. It was a necessity as a professional footballer, but you didn't feel the same love for exercise as Alexia did. To her, fitness was a passion; to you, it was a means to an end. You'd lace up for runs, lift weights, and do the drills, but it was all about maintaining strength for the game, not about striving for the chiseled perfection that Alexia seemed to attain effortlessly. You had some definition—your muscles were toned in places, and you were proud of the fitness you had. But you didn't have a six-pack, or the rock-hard thighs and sculpted arms that Alexia did. There was softness to your body, a gentle curve that felt miles away from the physique she held herself to.

You'd grown to accept that, too. Sure, some days, you'd catch a glimpse of Alexia in her workout gear, fresh from a morning session, muscles rippling under her taut skin, and you'd feel a pang of envy. But it wasn't enough to change how you viewed yourself. You might not have the carved-out, intensely toned build that she had, but your body was yours, and that was enough. You nourished it, rested it, treated it well. Alexia adored you for who you were, and she'd always made it abundantly clear that you didn't need to change a thing. So, you held onto that, content in the comfort of her steady admiration and your own quiet acceptance.

And then it happened.

Tearing your ACL was more than a setback. It was a wrench thrown into everything you knew about yourself, your career, and your confidence. The physical pain was intense, yes, but the mental toll? That was a different beast altogether. The moment the diagnosis came, you were handed a new path, one that demanded you start over, essentially relearning how to walk, run, and move in ways that had once come effortlessly.

Your recovery plan was strict. "Get stronger," the physical therapist had told you. "Anything you can do to support that knee." The aim was to build strength before agility, to make sure that when you eventually stepped back onto the field, your knee would hold up. And to build that strength, you needed more muscle.

So you followed the program. A different nutrition plan meant eating more, much more than you were used to. It was a meticulous routine of high-protein meals and heavier weights, adjusting your body to a new rhythm. The change in your body was immediate and striking. Muscle mass took time, but the weight gain didn't wait for anyone. Your once lean and toned frame grew softer, the athletic lines you'd been so familiar with blurred into something different. Every time you caught yourself in the mirror, the difference seemed glaring.

You tried to remind yourself that it was part of the plan, and in some ways, it was working. The muscle you gained gave you the stability you needed in your knee, and as you got stronger, so did your confidence in moving. But it was a far cry from what you were used to, and the internet, naturally, had a field day with it. Photos started surfacing, snapshots of you out and about or in training, and the comments came fast and merciless. Every little flaw was picked apart: a fold in your chin, the curve of your waist, the size of your thighs. Strangers felt entitled to judge you, to dissect every inch of your body in ways that left you reeling.

It got to you. How could it not? The comments slipped into your thoughts, lingering like a shadow every time you ate, trained, or even looked at yourself in the mirror. Even the smallest gestures became tainted by this newfound self-consciousness. In the shower, you'd notice the places that felt softer. In the gym, you'd feel acutely aware of the way your body didn't look like it used to. And it followed you home, creeping into the space you shared with Alexia, a place that had once felt like a sanctuary.

Alexia, in her usual affectionate way, was none the wiser. She treated you exactly the same, her hands roaming freely over your body with the same warmth and adoration she'd always shown. But every time she touched your waist, your stomach, or the soft flesh of your thighs, you'd feel a pang, a quiet discomfort that you tried desperately to ignore. You told yourself it was silly, that she hadn't even noticed the change. But each time her hands grazed over the parts of you that felt different, the ones the internet was so quick to call out, you couldn't help but brace, almost flinch.

When Alexia would lie beside you on the sofa, her head resting on your thighs, the weight of her presence suddenly felt heavy, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on your skin. You'd struggle to enjoy the moment, fighting the urge to shift away, to hide. Or when she'd wrap her arms around you from behind, resting her head against your shoulder, and you'd feel her fingers press softly into your stomach, all you could think of was whether she felt the difference. If she noticed the extra softness there.

Then, there were the times she wanted to be closer, when her hands wandered a bit further, her gaze lingering with the kind of adoration that used to set you at ease. But now, each brush of her fingertips over your skin, every glance that she stole felt like a magnifying glass on every insecurity you'd grown to harbor. It was as if the comments you'd read online were imprinted on you, and every time Alexia's touch lingered, they echoed in your mind.

You tried to bury it, to keep your discomfort hidden beneath the surface. Alexia never let on that she'd noticed anything different; if she did, she was remarkably patient, waiting for you to open up. But you couldn't bring yourself to admit the insecurity gnawing at you. She didn't seem to mind, so why should you make her aware of something that, to her, didn't exist? So, you hid it, smiled through the lingering self-doubt, and tried to keep up appearances.

But it was exhausting, living in constant vigilance, battling an inner voice that refused to quiet. And as much as you wanted to shake it, to silence the nagging insecurities, they lingered, shadowing your every thought.

*

Alexia's gaze was intense as she leaned over you, her body pressed to yours, the warm weight of her presence grounding you in place as her lips moved insistently against yours. It was a familiar rhythm, one you usually found yourself melting into. Normally, her touch—firm yet gentle—would have had you feeling nothing but desire, lost in the anticipation that only she could draw out in you. But tonight, you found yourself bracing against her, your mind elsewhere as self-doubt seeped into every crevice of your thoughts.

Her hands moved purposefully down your sides, her fingertips grazing the hem of your shirt. The familiar touch that once filled you with security now left you tense. She had been so patient, so understanding, never pressing you to go further. You hadn't made love since before the surgery. First, it was because you couldn't physically handle it. Then, as you started healing, there was always some excuse. You'd kept her at arm's length, letting yourself be the one in control, making sure her attention stayed solely on her own pleasure. You'd hoped it would distract her, keep her from noticing the hesitation that lingered in your own movements.

But tonight, Alexia's determination to close the distance between you was clear. Her hands, more insistent than before, slid up the curve of your waist, drawing you closer, pulling you back into the intimacy you'd once shared without question. The air felt heavy with the unspoken, and you felt the edges of your own defenses starting to fray, your discomfort edging into something you couldn't suppress.

When she tugged at your waistband, her intention was unmistakable, and your body instinctively pulled back as your voice rose, pleading, "Stop." It was barely more than a whisper, but the tremor in your tone cut through the haze between you, and Alexia stilled immediately. Her hands halted as she pulled back, her gaze filled with a mixture of concern and yearning. Her breathing was still ragged as she leaned back, moving to her knees, studying you with furrowed brows. The way she looked at you, raw and concerned, was almost too much, the shame twisting inside you like a vice.

She asked gently what was wrong, her voice softened, but the words sat heavy in the air.

Your hands flew to your face, covering your eyes in an effort to hide the turmoil, but you felt her move closer, her presence warm and unwavering. Her hands reached for you, wrapping around your shoulders as she drew you to her chest, her bare leg slipping behind your back as she cradled you against her. One of her arms slipped under your legs, tugging you sideways so that you were cocooned in her embrace, sheltered and safe.

The tears you had been holding back spilled over, and you stifled your sobs against your palms, feeling Alexia's gentle sway as she rocked you. Her hand stroked up and down your back, a steady rhythm that eased some of the tension from your body. You clung to her, desperate for the comfort her touch provided, feeling your breath catch as you tried to force yourself to calm down.

There, in her arms, you knew that hiding wasn't an option anymore.

"What's wrong, amor?" her voice was so tender that the words you'd been holding back spilled out before you could stop them. Choking on each syllable, you told her everything—how much you hated the way you looked, how every curve felt wrong, how the stretch marks on your thighs and hips felt like a betrayal. You admitted that fueling your body had become a battle, that you'd started skipping meals, working out to the point of straining your knee, forcing yourself to push through the ache just to feel worthy.

"I spend so much time," you said, your voice breaking, "just standing in front of the mirror, analysing everything. Picking myself apart until I can't stand it anymore. I can't even..." Your voice faltered, thick with tears. "I can't even look at myself."

Alexia's hold on you tightened, her fingers digging slightly into your back, as if to keep you grounded. Her eyes never left your face, absorbing every raw word, her own eyes brimming with tears, reflecting the hurt you'd been carrying.

"I didn't want you to see me like this. I didn't want you to look at me without clothes because... if I hate what I see, then... then surely you would too." The admission slipped out, a final, aching confession. "Maybe if you just waited... if you could just hold on a little while longer, I'll be back to how I was before. And then...then it'd be okay. Maybe—”

But before you could finish, Alexia cut you off, her voice firmer than you'd ever heard it, startling you with the sharpness of her words. "Don't you dare say that," she whispered, her tone fierce with a hurt that mirrored your own. You flinched, and she immediately softened, her fingers brushing your cheek as she leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm sorry, amor. I didn't mean to scare you. But you're wrong," she said, her voice still laced with intensity. She tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet her gaze.

"Please, just listen."

You nodded, still sniffling, your fingers curled into her shirt as you leaned into her touch.

"You are beautiful," she said firmly. "Siempre. Every day. Every moment." You opened your mouth to protest, but she pressed a finger to your lips, silencing you before you could interrupt. Her gaze softened, her thumb brushing away the remnants of your tears as she continued.

"Do you know what I see when I look at you? I see someone strong, even when you don't feel it." Her hands slid down your arms, squeezing gently. "These arms? They hold me, support me, even when you're feeling like this. And your legs? I know you think they're different now, but to me, they're perfect." She moved her hand down to rest on your thigh, tracing small circles with her thumb. "Do you remember the times I've rested my head here, just because it's where I feel safe?"

You bit your lip, feeling your resolve waver as her words seeped into the cracks of your defenses.

"And your stretch marks?" She leaned down, her lips brushing over your thigh, a gentle kiss that made you shiver. "They're proof of what you've been through. Proof that your body is fighting, that you're healing. They're beautiful to me. You are beautiful to me."

Still, the doubts clawed at you, whispers of insecurity that wouldn't quiet. She saw the uncertainty in your eyes and, as if reading your thoughts, she brought her hand up to cup your face, her gaze locked with yours.

"Please, amor," she murmured, her voice almost a plea. "Let me show you."

You could barely bring yourself to nod.

With that, she kissed you, her lips moving slowly, reverently. Her hands cupped your face, her fingers tracing the lines of your jaw, holding you as though you were something precious. And with each kiss, each soft murmur of adoration, you felt a little bit of the weight start to lift.

She coaxed you to lie back, settling you against the pillows, her hand trailing down to link with yours, her fingers warm. As she leaned over you, her lips found your neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses that sent warmth spreading through you. Her lips traced every inch of exposed skin, reverent, tender, making you feel seen in a way you hadn't allowed yourself to feel in so long.

“I love this," she murmured, her fingers tracing over your hips, the slight curve of your waist. "Every part of you is beautiful to me."

She kissed the stretch marks on your thighs, her lips brushing over them with a tenderness that brought fresh tears to your eyes.

Her hands remained steady, her fingers tracing over your body as if memorising every curve, every line. She didn't rush, allowing you to sink into the feeling of her touch, to let yourself be held, to let yourself be loved without hesitation or restraint. She murmured soft assurances, telling you how much she adored you, how lucky she felt to have you.

And somewhere in the midst of her gentle worship, you found yourself relaxing, the tension in your body easing as her love wrapped around you like a soft blanket. You felt her hands against your sides, her lips pressing tender kisses to your skin, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to feel beautiful.

As she continued, her lips pressing gentle, adoring kisses over every inch of your body, you knew that healing wouldn't be immediate, that learning to love yourself again would take time. But with Alexia by your side, holding you, loving you, showing you the beauty she saw in you, you felt a glimmer of hope that one day, you might see it too.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @codiemarin @girlgenius1111 @silentwolfsstuff @simp4panos @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan

[thrfted]

꩜ DATING MR. CRAWLING .ᐟ

SFW GN!Reader HCS after the blissful love life ending.

Italics is in the other world’s language! Sometimes more the implied message rather than a direct translation. I'll probably do Mr. Hood later too :3 !

Your bed is much more comfortable than anything in the other world, and it only makes it better that mr. Crawling gets to be in it with you. He grows accustomed to your nightly routine and is always excited to cuddle up. Big spoon, little spoon, facing each other—all of it makes him as happy as can be!

(^ As someone who still has a twin size, some of us have to invest in a much bigger one lol)

Generally so so affectionate and loves when you’re physically affectionate !! You can kiss his head and he’ll giggle, maybe point at his face and ask “Again!” You leave kisses all over his face, and his hands pull you in close when you finally kiss his lips.

One of Mr. Crawling's strongest traits is his patience—especially when it comes to you. The first day you come home without him trailing behind (much to his dismay, and honestly yours), he’s at the door to greet you, smiling and giggling as you wrap your arms around him. You find out he hadn’t done much but wait for you to come home. (With no complaints of boredom on his part, and all the worry on yours.)

He'll sit as you play with his hair, trying out new hairstyles or putting in clips. “Me cute? Pretty?” he asks. And if you let him do the same in return, he'll giggle and compliment you too.

I think he’d look through your closet and enjoy watching you try on clothes too. He compliments you and feels each of the fabrics, liking the ones that feel softest. He might try on some of the accessories if none of the actual clothes (sort of…) fit, and is really happy when you match!

Mr. Crawling is a fast learner. You worry he'll feel overwhelmed with all the new technology and words and whatever else, so you focus on making sure he’s comfortable. But he points at things and ask what they are, repeating after you. “You teach me language?” he asks and you laugh softly before nodding. “I teach you language.”

He will accidentally touch a hot stove top or pot if you don't remember to warn him beforehand. Then whenever you cook he gets worried you'll hurt yourself, watching to make sure you're alright (forgive him if he pulls your hand away and says “Danger! Don't touch!”)

Since he doesn't know his birthday, you make the day you returned special instead! He's happy to just stay in with you, eating a good meal and watching or learning something new.

Mr. Crawling also learns when yours is and does his best to make it a good day for you too. He tries singing happy birthday and makes food with what you have at home, mimicking the meals he's seen you prepare.

You teach him how to call your phone while you're away. It's supposed to “be for emergencies,” but you both know he's going to call just to hear your voice, and who are you to complain?

I think he gets sad sometimes when he sees or hears you talking to friends—the way you communicate and laugh so easily compared to conversations with him. The other world's language itself is limited, and he hasn't learned enough of your own. You spend some evenings reassuring him, reminding him learning is a process, and it doesn't change your feelings!!

He does his best to learn on his own. You buy (exercise) books and show him shows for younger kids and he spends a lot of time alone with them, both to surprise you, and also just because he loves talking with you and wants to talk more and more.

The first time he speaks your language is a special day. After many days of calling out that you’re back, he decides to say it himself. “You home!” You almost drop everything in your hands, and that’s when he continues, “Miss you.” It feels odd hearing it in his voice, but he’s grinning so wide, and you won’t find out for a while just how excited and nervous he was waiting for you to get home.

One of Mr. Crawling’s favourite things to say and hear is “I love you.” Every time you say it, he gets all giddy and tries to get closer to you (as if that’s possible while already cuddling in bed). He says it a lot while you’re doing chores or really nothing, just to remind you and see you smile. There’s no way in his mind for those 3 words to lose their meaning, or become any less special.

[woozivrse]

ways you show love to svt

it's always ways svt shows love to you, so i decided to do this! wrote it in 40min with some help of a friend :) thank u pooks!

cheolie— you indulge him

❣︎ okay that may sound weird but, when he's feeling a little whiny? you coddle him and kiss him better. he's dressing up kkuma and calling her his pretty princess? you agree and buy some lil accessories for her! you get the idea.

hannie— opening a bottle for him

❣︎ whether it be a water bottle or some other drink, these things can be a lil tough. it's a cute way to care, opening a drink for someone before handing it to them. he’ll always give you a cute smile when you do, thanking you with a kiss on the cheek.

shua— trying new hobbies with him

❣︎ we’ve seen how much he tries new hobbies, so you join him! he's making beaded bracelets and jewelry? you make some too! trying out air dry clay? you make a lil pinch pot to join his own. whatever it is, you're sitting there with him trying it out and laughing with him at any small mistakes you two make.

junhui— sending him messages throughout the day

❣︎ you know he's busy most of the time, but you want him to know how often you think of him. it could be a small thing, a picture of a flower you saw, or even just an emoji, you'll still send it to him, hoping he can feel all the love you're trying to convey. good morning and good night messages are sent daily, and a “hope you're eating well!” whenever you update him about your own meal is expected.

soonyoung— tucking him in when he falls asleep

❣︎ he's tired from his various schedules throughout the day, so sometimes he just falls asleep on the couch or on the bed, so you tuck him in! you’ll turn off whatever he was doing– watching tv, scrolling through his phone– and pull a blanket over him with a kiss to the forehead, hoping he rests well. it's likely you’ll wake him up within the hour too, just so he can get more comfy, doing his nightly routine with you and also getting into bed. even then, you tuck him in, hoping he knows how much you love him.

wonwoo— you game with him

❣︎ a lil cliche? yes, but i think he enjoys playing calmer, simpler games with you, like animal crossing new horizons or similar co-op games. maybe you two will even play a puzzle game together, as two minds are better than one and he enjoys doing these types of exercises with you.

jihoon— bringing him food

❣︎ he's busy and maybe a lil forgetful at times, so you take it upon yourself to make sure he's eating well. he might be locked up in the practice room– and if so, you’ll bring food for all the members, not just him– or in the universe factory so you bring him some food and company! you're there so often that those working at the company recognize you and give a friendly greeting.

minghao— you watch his little fashion shows

❣︎ with how well this man dresses, i have no doubt in my mind that he likes to create outfits at home and try them on, and whenever he does, you watch him! he’ll put together an outfit and walk out into the living room where you give him your compliments and tell him what you do and don't like, i think he’d like your honesty with it too. shower him in praise, yes, but give him your honest opinion on the outfit along with it.

mingyu— you'll keep him company while he's cooking

❣︎ personally, i don't cook, but i feel like it could be lonely? at times, doing it on your own. so, you decide to sit in the kitchen with him while he cooks! or if you can't be in the kitchen due to its size, you sit near it so you can talk to him comfortably. he likes having you taste test things, trying to make it perfectly to both of your tastes.

seokmin— you write things to him

❣︎ it's usually little notes, stuck in with his lunch or somewhere in his bag, but sometimes you like to write love letters to him. you could be the worst writer out there, or the best, and he'd keep and cherish every single one you give him. maybe this is how you show your affection best, as saying things to his face might make you shy.

seungkwan— peel oranges for him

❣︎ it's boo seungkwan we’re talking about here, so ofc i have to give him a peeled orange hello? it's a small gesture, peeling an orange for someone, but i think it's cute! you care for this person enough to get some orange peel under your nail and give them the fruits of your labor.

vernon— you listen to his music

❣︎ when i say this, i don't mean svt’s music or music he's personally taken part in, but his music taste. he’ll talk about an artist he’s recently been listening to and if you have the time, you'll immediately pull them up on your phone, ready to try them out. if you don't have the time, you note it down so you can listen to them and tell him your thoughts!

chan— you watch him dance

❣︎ yes, this could go for all of them, but i think since chan has spent most of his life dancing, it's a bit more meaningful for him. maybe you even join him sometimes! it doesn't matter either way, just you being there, enjoying the music and his dancing is enough for him. whenever he finishes a routine and you clap for him, he can feel his love for you grow more and more.

[deadghosy]

HAZBIN HOTEL GANG WITH CHIBI! READER

PLATONIC HAZBIN HOTEL X READER

You are like thumb size-

Like you are an absolute cutie pootie! Even Alastor agrees, in private of course. You are like a mysterious creature that appeared in the hotel one day and said.

“This ma home now losers!”

Charlie was hypnotized by your cuteness, even vaggie oddly as she tickles you under your chin as you giggle with a squeak.

Husk lets you sit by the bar as you eat these small pieces of chips he got for you so you can have something to eat while he watches over you and cleans glasses.

Angel lets you in his chest fluff like a pocket as you snicker with a gremlin ass smile. You always bite him for the fun of it which makes him put you in air jail.

When Lucifer met you, you better believed he came and kidnapped you out the hotel every second he got.

LUCFIER

He fell in love with you the minute he had his eyes on you from charlie’s shoulder. He held you so carefully like a baby as he didn’t want you to be scared of him as you are so small and he is bigger than you.

Like I said, he definitely “kidnaps” you from the hotel so he can make you a small house. Like a doll house with small duck toys your size but he probably just makes a normal size duck car so you can drive around his palace or the hotel.

“Look at their tiny car sweetie!” He says showing Charlie a video of you driving your car with small black shades.

He definitely cries at your cuteness as he curls up in a ball as you eat peacefully in front of him as he made you your favorite meal.

He would have you in his pocket but he definitely makes small outfits for you so you can be a mini him. He would also definitely have a picture of you in his wallet.

“Oh this picture? It’s my sweet baby!” He says with a pride smile as he shows it off

CHARLIE

Just like her father she cries at your cuteness as you are just the sweetest thing ever she ever had around the hotel as you just chill in her room with razzle and dazzle.

You ride razzle and dazzle on their back as you wanted to see Charlie who is doing trust exercises. You join kinda as Charlie makes you sit on her shoulder as you wiggle your cute little bobble around.

Charlie makes sure you are groomed, feed, and socialize around the peers of the hotel. She’s glad VAGGIE likes you also which makes her even happier

Charlie kinda brings you around a lot as she doesn’t trust you alone much in the hotel as there’s a lot things that can kill you in the hotel.

“Sweetie, it’s time for bath time!” Charlie says she gets a toy bathtub with bubbles and water for you as you squeak happily.

And when you sleep with Charlie and vaggie, Charlie literally wakes up at night with red eyes concerned if you are alive or not because she is scared she might have rolled over on you.

VAGGIE

“Okay remember the rules, no leaving this room no matter what. Don’t go into the big scary man’s room. And last rule, don’t ever eat sweets. You are banned from last time.” Vaggie says before scratching you under your chin as she leaves the room. You pout with a soft squeak.

Vaggie is very overprotective of you because of your sweet and small creature frame as it’s unbelievably cute. She literally asked Lucifer once and carmilla to make you a small weapon so you can protect yourself if she can’t

You left the room one time because you were bored and missed vaggie with her girlfriend as you wanted company. You wanted to socialize as you didn’t think it was bad to talk to the other residents in the hotel. VAGGIE found out and grounded you as if you were a child!

She doesn’t want a heart attack late at night so she would consider to have you a tiny bed on the night stand beside Charlie and her bed. She doesn’t have time to worry about you getting squashed but she doesn’t want you to die as you brought happiness to the hotel.

“Good night cutie….”

ALASTOR

You use to shake at the grin Alastor had. Vaggie told you stories about Alastor as you squeak with tears in your eyes. And oddly Alastor turned away gripping his cold heart as he couldn’t stand you crying.

He turned around and picked you up softly in his hand as you sniffle. You noticed he wasn’t hurting you so you squeak rubbing your chubby cheek on your thumb.

“Please smile little one, you aren’t dressed without one!”

And at the point, Alastor know to protect you. He would bring you around with him when Charlie didn’t have time to watch you. Which he gladly did for her as he would bring you around pentagram city and even bring you to meet Rosie who absolutely adores you too.

He even has his demon minions play with you as you squeak chasing them with your stubby legs. The shadows love you too! Even Alastor shadows who would pick play with you as you squeak happily feeling the shadow by you.

“Play nice..don’t wanna get scolded by the mean one again.” He says smiling at you chasing his shadows in the living room. He is definitely talking about VAGGIE who is surely scared for you to be around Alastor.

ANGEL DUST

“OW DONT BITE MY FLUFF HON!” Angel yells digging in his chest fluff to take you out as you mistook it for cotton candy as you nom on his fluff with a derpy face. You got banned from his chest fluff for a month before you would behave yourself and not eat his chest fluff thinking it’s cotton candy.

Angel loves for you to wear pink like him as he thinks it would be cute. He would definitely act like a rich “auntie” to you as he would make you wear pink shades with him and he would ask Lucifer to make you a pink hot car.

But he definitely has those toy car remote controllers to make it seem you are actually driving but aren’t as you squeak feeling like a hot girl/boy/person

“VROOM VROOOM!” Angel says making car noises as you squeak happily at this moment as Charlie records this happily.

You sleep on Angel’s chest fluff or ride fat nuggets like a steady horses as you squeak while fat nuggets oink. Angel likes to record you acting like a cow boy as it’s just adorable moment

“You’re the best thing a spider could have cutie pie.”

HUSK

This grumpy cat actually is less grumpy with you. He views as you as a little kid. He might not know what you are it he ain’t serving you beer at all. Your body might not handle it at all.

“Sorry kid, but that’s for adults.” He says pushing your squishy and chubby body away from the beer bottle he held. You opted with a mean squeak and a “hey!” As he smirk at your mad face which is terrible cute with puffed out cheeks. But you just drink water what he gives you as he cleans glasses watching you softly as his eyes dilate before he grumbles looking away.

You and husk are seen chilling at the bar every night even if it’s after your suppose “bed time” which was annoying to you but Charlie sen how cranky you were before you even had a such called “bed time”

“Aren’t you suppose to be in bed brat?” “……no….” “I’m telling Charlie.” “NOOO!” *mad squeaks*

Husk has a habit of poking your chubby cheeks as you eat as it annoys you. Husk just smirks as you try to bite his finger which obviously fails as you are quite slow since you are eating. But if you aren’t eating, then husk better pray for his fingers as husk accidentally let his guard down and you bit the shit out of his pointer finger which make him scream with a groan holding his pointer finger as you huff.

“Fine kid…I’m sorry for annoying you. But you must admit you are annoying to me sometimes even if you don’t see it.” He says softly as he pokes your sleeping figure by his bar.

SIR PENTIOUS

“Ah I see! You like to spend time with me!” He says happily having you in his hands as the egg boiz watch you with star in their eyes at your small frame. You are adorable and such a weird little thing as the egg boiz made a rule to protect from a lot of things.

You nap with the egg boiz and the snake demon as Pentious would have you warm if you say you are cold. He also makes small cookies, well if he can even as he loves to bake for you.

Vaggie tells him how you are banned from sweeties but he secretly sneaks you some if you pout at him with your soft cute little squeak and “please.” HE CANT REIST IT!

He definitely brags about how he could’ve been an overlord but saw the light to redeem himself as he sees potential in you and himself. Well he does t even know if you are a sinner or not. But he want to know how to redeem with you beside him.

He would love watching movies with you as you are in the popcorn bucket but he always look to make sure you aren’t the next popcorn he grabs or he would throw up in disgust from himself and for you health

“You are so adorable it hurts me to see you cry…” he says patting your head as you pout with teary eyes after you accidentally hit it against a wall

[ddejavvu]

i imagine eddie working out in his room like doing push-ups, pulls ups, AND he’s shirtless😭😭but he’s doing it secretly and reader walk into his room and he gets all flustered and embarrassed but reader thinks it’s the hottest things she’s ever seen GOD

this post is 18+, minors dni.

If you had to guess, you'd say that Eddie is a little bit insecure. Not that he should be, you like him just the way he is, but you're friends with some of Hawkins' athletes, and at times Lucas seems to have bigger arms than your boyfriend does.

It doesn't bother you, but you think it might bother him a little. He starts wearing longer sleeves instead of his worn out muscle tanks, and you miss being able to stick your greedy fingers through the gaped sleeves to grab at his stomach. He's also started dissuading you from looking under his bed, which you think is suspicious because you already know about the porn magazines under there. Whatever he's hiding must be worse, and you're a little nervous to tell the truth. You have half a mind to ask Wayne if he's noticed anything odd lately, but you don't get the chance to because he's already gone for work by the time you get to Eddie's trailer for the day.

Eddie had said he was busy with work, so you assume he's halfway across town with sixteen pizzas in the back of his van to deliver. You decide to check beneath his bed, at the risk of ruining a possible birthday surprise, and you trek towards his bedroom with worry set low in your stomach.

His door is closed; that's an even worse sign. He doesn't have anything to hide from you or Wayne, you both know about his less-than-conventional 'side job'. When you twist the knob it opens, but slams into something hard, and you hear a familiar voice hiss 'ouch!'.

You rush into the small gap that you'd made with the door, finding Eddie on his hands and knees on the carpet. He's wearing a tank and his gym shorts, showing off his slightly trembling arms as he stumbles to his feet.

"What-" He grunts, eyes blown wide in panic, cheeks colored from exhaustion, "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" You counter, eyeing him up and piecing clues together, "Were you working out?"

"No!" He snaps, chest heaving with both adrenaline from being caught, and fatigue from his exercise, "I'm- I was just cleaning my room."

There's something undeniably attractive about his look right now. Frizzy hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail, red cheeks, shaky limbs, and chest heaving.

"On the floor," You narrow your eyes, "Sweaty and shaking?"

"I- That's not... yes." He doubles down with a huff, "I'm trying to get gum off of my carpet. It's hard work."

"Gum," You repeat, and he nods stiffly, "Oh, shut up."

He rears his head backwards in slight shock at your tone, but you don't give him the chance to process it before you're lunging for him. You feel like jumping him, and maybe that's what you're doing as you push him back towards his bed, your mouth firmly over his own. He lets out a muffled cry into the kiss as he falls backwards, bouncing on the mattress while you kick a foot beneath the bed.

The arch of your foot hits weights, and everything makes sense.

"Fuck," You hiss, crawling over top of him on the bed. He's looking half bewildered and half aroused, already chubbing up in his workout gear, "You've been working out?"

"Yeah," He finally admits, voice and breath shaky together, "I- I just thought that it might be nice to get a little bigger. Like- my arms, my- my muscles."

He seems mortified admitting it, but your thumb is already slipping beneath the hem of his tank top, brushing along his bare stomach. He shivers at the contact, and you dip down to kiss him again.

"That's hot," You decide, both thumbs now stroking at his waistline. His hips stutter, jerking up into your grip when you hit a particularly sensitive spot, and his breath hitches into the kiss that you press to his lips.

"Really?" He asks, lips already spit-slicked.

You nod, kissing his jaw, "Totally. Can I watch?"

He laughs, a sharp, breathy sound, "Babe- mm, fuck," You nip lightly at his neck, kissing the mark after, "You can watch me work out every day if you're gonna maul me like this."

[seresinhangmanjake]

Bonded

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: You were a servant and companion to Paul Ateides, but the moment you met Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, you knew the universe had Bonded you to another. 

Notes/Warnings: Soulmate AU. Reader x Feyd/Paul x reader. Feyd is soft boy who wants what is his. Smutty-ish (18+). There’s a slight coercive essence that makes Paul a little iffy. Maybe that’s just me, though.

Words: 1670

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Paul Atreides owned you in every way—that much you knew. With eyes, and hands, and cock, he claimed you; a claiming that had been exercised as often as he desired from the day you turned eighteen. For years, there had been anticipation leading up to the moment he took you as his own—stares and lasting touches and a soft voice directed toward the servant girl of the House Atreides, promising the inevitable.

He never forced you. Prior to your first night with him, those looks, the sweetly whispered words, the gentle brushes of his skin against yours had eased you into the idea of being with him, so when the time came, you were ready. You had let him inside of you; allowed the sensation to take over and guide you. You had submitted. And after years of the same, you were confident in your knowledge of how bodies joined and emotions tangled. You knew what it felt like to want a man. You understood desire and affection, neediness and the pleasure of giving in. And you would’ve bet your sanity that Paul Atreides was the height of what the world offered. 

But then you saw him, and the universe shifted. Want and desire paled to utter desperation. Simple neediness was weak against all-consuming necessity. A body that turned warm from one’s touch became engulfed in flame at the mere imagining of another’s. Locked gazes were an instant connection, conveying words too dangerous to speak aloud in the company of the House you served. 

You, you thought, as you knew he did. Whatever you are, you are mine. 

Still not a word was spoken to one another, and yet you saw everything; your path splayed before you. You didn’t need voices to confirm it. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, who had stepped foot into the House Atreides in an attempt at peace, whose eyes had immediately snapped to the servant girl standing in the corner awaiting orders, belonged to you. 

When the Atreides left the main hall with the promise you would show their guest to his quarters, you did exactly that, but not without great difficulty. You led the way, your body prickling with tingles, your breath shallow, your heart thumping, your mind running wild. As if under Bene Gesserit influence, memories of long nights altered, replacing Paul with the man following behind you. Internally, you pleaded for the touch of pale hands. 

Once you reached the room, seconds dawdled. He stared at you from his side of the doorway. You stared just the same, feeling a blush settle onto your cheeks. 

And then he lunged for you. An arm curled around your waist and he pulled you inside, trapping your body between the wall of his chest and the door before planting his mouth on yours. 

You knew then that you knew nothing. Want, desire, need, affection—introductory emotions; youthful seeds capable of growing into a form you did not realize existed. A form beautiful, alluring, mature, greedy for the sun. And that’s what Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen instantly became—the sun; the rays of him peeling back the clouds that were Paul Atreides. 

Clothes melted from bodies. Skin met skin. He lifted you into his arms and your legs wrapped around his hips as he carried you to the bed. When he crawled on top of you and buried himself inside of you, that was it. You couldn’t get enough of him—the na-Baron whose name was known by all, and at the same time was a stranger to you.

Paul did not enter your head. Nothing about what he might think or say or do could rip you away from where you were, under another man, your thighs spread open for him. Only after, did you consider what you’d done, but you quickly came to the conclusion that you did not regret it. You did not regret a single breath or moan or kiss that you gave to Feyd. What fell from your lips did so effortlessly, as if those sounds and caresses already belonged to him and he’d only just come to reclaim what was his. 

Another life, you decided. In another life this man was yours. 

In this one, however, nothing was yours. You owned nothing as you were owned. And soon Paul would come looking for what was rightfully his. 

When you rose from the confines of Feyd’s embrace, his fingers locked around your wrist. “You’re not going,” he said. 

“I have to.”

“No.”

You glanced at the heap of your clothes on the floor. You’d been gone too long. Night was rapidly approaching. You jerked yourself free to go gather your discarded dress, and as you slid the material up your body and slipped your arms into the sleeves, he stood from the bed. Toned and bare and intimidating, he came toward you and cupped your cheeks. 

“Stay,” he demanded.

You bit your lip. You were tempted. Terribly tempted. But what would staying afford you? If Paul found you with his guest—whose relationship with him was much too tenuous—you would face punishment, in some manner or other.

“I have no choice,” you told him as you stepped out of his reach. 

“Then come back.”

With a sigh, you ran your hand through your hair. Your eyes widened. Your pin—it was gone. Paul had made you wear that pin to keep your hair back. Can’t have anything blocking that lovely face, can we, he’d said, and here you lost the damn thing. 

Your heart raced. Feyd watched with a knitted brow as you scanned the floor and fell to your knees, ducking under the bed before rustling through the sheets. Your sweat turned to a chill when the silver accessory revealed itself. “It's–” you started, quickly twisting your hair into a bun. “It’s not possible.”

As you sped past him toward the door, he grabbed your upper arm. “You sleep at night, don't you?” he said. “Sleep here.”

You paused. The tension in your shoulders momentarily eased. There was possession in his eyes, in his grip on your flesh, and though a rational piece of your mind told you it was insane to feel such an emotion after knowing this man for mere hours, the rest of you knew it was right. 

“What's your name?” he asked. When you told him, he repeated it. “Swear to come back.”

Going against your every instinct, you shook your head and said, “I can’t.” 

A flash of pain crossed his irises, but eventually, he released you. 

—

You noticed first that Paul didn’t feel the same. You’d enjoyed how he felt before, but after Feyd, your gut churned, and that unpleasantness spread to every inch of your body. Perhaps you should’ve told Paul what you’d done with Giedi Prime’s na-Baron. There was still time to do so. It wouldn’t save you from punishment, but there was potential that in his disgust you would be granted a break from warming his bed. 

By the time Paul’s breaths evened, you had already weighed the risks and made up your mind. If you were to tell him tomorrow, then you would enjoy your final night of peace. You sneaked out from under the sheets and tiptoed into the hall. He wouldn’t notice. He never woke in the night and you were always gone by the time the sun rose, set about doing your morning duties. 

Feyd opened the door after a single round of knocks, his eyes raking up and down your chemise-clad body as he dragged you inside. It was better than the first time—kisses more intense; thrusts harder, deeper, to see what you could take—and you wondered if that was how it was meant to work; if it was meant to consume a little more so that with each coming together, you would be increasingly unwilling to let one another go. 

“What is this?” you whispered once satiated, your body tucked into him with your hand resting over his heart. 

“We both know,” he said. And he was correct. You did know, whether or not you were ready to fully admit it. 

Among all people—regardless of whatever planet, religion, or faction they belonged to—it was seldom discussed. The Bond, as they called it. An inexplicable tethering of souls. Once a much more common occurrence, it became so rare it bordered on myth, and while it could be wonderful, it was widely known to cause trouble. 

The Bond could ruin lives, destroy foundations, topple empires. But for those blinded by their need to have the one they Bonded with by their side, crossing boundaries was often executed without hesitancy, and the consequences deemed trivial.

“I'll take you with me,” Feyd continued. “You're a servant. You won't be missed.”

You stiffened. Won’t be missed. If you thought there was a deity who might listen, you would’ve prayed for that to be true. Following a hard swallow, you said, “You underestimate my role. And you’d be risking your purpose of being here.”

Feyd went silent, leaving the sound of your breaths to fill the space. A minute passed, or an hour; you could not tell. He sighed heavily through his nose, then in a tone laced with irritation, he said, “You’re his?”

Reluctantly, you nodded. His arm tightened around your shoulders, and your nerves wiggled under your skin at the prospect of what the new information might have him do. Leave you behind? Yes, probably. 

Though unusual, historically some people had decided not to be tied to their Bonded for eternity. One half would be heartbroken while the other would remain committed to their pre-Bonded priorities. There were spouses who had stayed married even after discovering their Bond to another. There were Lords who had refused to jeopardize their power, and so, rejected their Bonded. There were Bonded who had not cared for the universe’s interference in their lives, who refused to acknowledge the concept of the Bond altogether. And there would be the na-Baron of Giedi Prime, whose uncle had sent him on a mission and would not accept failure, no matter the temptation.

You were nearly convinced that was to be your fate. But then he said, “No. You don’t belong to him anymore.” 

Your eyes flicked up to meet a stunning blue, and his gaze confirmed what you’d been desperate for from the moment you first saw him. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen had claimed you in body, heart, and soul, and regardless of what was to come, you knew he intended to keep what was his—every bit of you. 

“You are mine,” he said.

“He’ll fight you.”

Feyd hummed. His lips quirked in one corner, then he pressed a kiss between your worried brows. “So be it,” he whispered.

[glowettee]

how to recover from chronic procrastination (not just time management tips)

by mindy @glowettee

i wanted to talk about healing your relationship with time and tasks when you're stuck in a deep procrastination cycle. i've been in this cycle for a month now, and just recently got out of it using all of these methods. please just remember to be gentle to yourself, and take small steps.

understanding your procrastination:

identifying emotional triggers: notice what feelings come up right before you avoid tasks. is it fear? overwhelm? sometimes it's as subtle as a tiny flutter of anxiety

recognizing avoidance patterns: maybe you always clean your room when essays are due, or suddenly need to reorganize your pinterest boards before studying

spotting perfectionism links: notice when you're not starting because you're afraid it won't be perfect. this often shows up as "i'll start when i feel more prepared"

understanding fear responses: your body might feel heavy, or you might get suddenly sleepy when facing certain tasks. these are actually fear responses in disguise

mapping procrastination cycles: track how one avoided task creates a domino effect of more procrastination. it's usually a sweet little pattern we can gently break

emotional recovery steps:

healing task-related anxiety: create tiny, sweet rituals that make tasks feel safe. maybe light a candle before starting or use your prettiest pen

building self-trust again: start with promises so small they feel silly. like "i'll work for just two minutes" and actually stop after two minutes

developing completion confidence: collect evidence of times you've finished things, even tiny things like making your bed or sending a text

managing overwhelm spirals: catch yourself before the "i have so much to do" spiral starts. write everything down in your prettiest handwriting

creating safety in starting: make beginning feel cozy. wrap yourself in a soft blanket, make tea, create a gentle environment for work

rebuilding work capacity:

micro-task training: start with tasks so tiny they feel almost meaningless. maybe just open your laptop or take out one book

starting-point exercises: practice just beginning things without the pressure to finish. it's like dipping your toes in a pool

momentum building: string tiny tasks together like beads on a necklace. each small completion leads to another

success spirals: document every tiny win in a pretty journal. watching the pages fill creates its own kind of motivation

confidence restoration: celebrate completing even the smallest tasks. treat each one like a tiny victory worth noting

practical healing methods:

task relationship repair: make peace with tasks that scare you. talk to them like old friends you're getting to know again

emotional safety nets: create comfort zones within your work space. maybe a special corner with fairy lights and soft pillows

anxiety soothing techniques: develop gentle ways to calm your nervous system. perhaps counting flower petals or tracing patterns

overwhelm prevention: break everything down into pieces so small they feel almost silly. like "open notebook" as a complete task

progress preservation: keep a soft, gentle record of all your tiny steps forward. no progress is too small to celebrate

creating new patterns:

gentle accountability: find ways to be accountable that don't feel punishing. maybe share your tiny goals with a friend

achievement recognition: notice and celebrate every small completion, even just getting out your materials

progress celebration: create sweet little rewards for progress. maybe a favorite song or a moment with your comfort book

pattern interruption: catch old patterns with gentleness. "oh, there's my pinterest avoidance. how sweet of me to try to protect myself"

identity rebuilding: slowly start seeing yourself as someone who can start and finish things, one tiny step at a time

maintaining recovery:

preventing relapse: notice early warning signs with kindness. catch yourself before the avoidance cycle starts

managing setbacks: treat setbacks like gentle reminders to return to your healing practices

building resilience: each time you start again, you're building stronger foundations

sustaining progress: keep your momentum gentle and sustainable

adapting strategies: adjust your approaches with tenderness as you learn what works best for you

remember: recovering from chronic procrastination is about healing, not just forcing yourself to work.

tip: small wins create the foundation for bigger changes 🤍

p.s. you're not lazy, you're healing from task trauma.

[avatar-anna]

Hiiii i thought of your young parents series today while scrolling through tik tok. An old clip came up from when Nickelodeon pranked them with that lady going into labor and Harry is like the most calm and attentive in it. Anyway I was like “ahhh and he would be if he had like a baby or was expecting one!” Also wanted to mention I love that series so much and often reread my favorite ones.

Young Dad! Harry Styles x Young Mom! Reader

bro this takes me baaaack😭

this prank definitely hits home for young dadrry, and zayn and louis definitely know that when they decide to pull the prank on the rest of the boys. poor baby h is just like wtf and grumpy afterwards. y/n just finds it hilarious:

"It's not funny."

Y/n, who held little Simone in her arms in their hotel room, tried not to laugh at her boyfriend, who was clearly annoyed at his friends' antics. "I'm not laughing at you, I promise. It's just—"

"What?"

"Did you really do the breathing exercises with her?"

Harry huffed and rolled his eyes, and this time Y/n did laugh.

It wasn't often that Harry got all pouty like this, and when he did, Y/n found it adorable. When she heard about the prank Louis and Zayn pulled, she wasn't surprised by the role Harry played in all of it. Of course he jumped into action when he thought a woman was going to labor. And of course he'd do everything he could to make the woman comfortable. Harry and Y/n had had a couple false labors before she eventually gave birth, and he was the one to help her breathe through her contractions and held her when every sitting position was uncomfortable.

"H, come here and hold your daughter. It'll make you feel better," Y/n said when her laughter subsided. Simone, who was playing with a strand of Y/n's hair, blinked at her parents innocently.

Harry, who could never resist holding Simone, softened a bit and stepped closer. The baby instinctively held out her little arms toward him, which melted any remaining embarrassment from his day. "Hi, baby," he cooed, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. "Missed you today. What did you and Mummy get up to while I was gone?"

"Well, we went for a walk on the beach, then we did a little shopping had some lunch at a cute little cafe, then we had to come back to the hotel because someone decided to spill their food all over themselves, and it was not me."

"Messy girl," Harry said, kissing his baby's cheek. "But thanks to you, I was ready to assist a woman in labor at a moment's notice, prank or not. Some might even say I was heroic."

Y/n rolled her eyes while Harry wasn't looking. "Yeah? And what does that make me for actually going into labor?"

"Babe, I was literally prepared to deliver a baby today."

"You almost fainted in the delivery room when I had Simone!"

"I've...matured since then," Harry said, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

That was a story Harry would take to his grave. The boys would give him hell if they found out, not that they would fare much better. He never actually passed out, but he did have to sit down at some point during the delivery. Let's just say it was something he would never forget.

For many reasons.

"Whatever you say, lover," Y/n mused, patting his cheek before heading into the bathroom for a shower.

"It did take me back," Harry said quietly a few hours later. Simone was asleep on his chest, and he didn't have the heart to move her into her crib. He was technically supposed to be in his own room soon, but he would sneak back in tomorrow morning before anyone from management noticed, and the boys would cover for him if they did.

Y/n, who laid beside him on the small hotel bed, brushed his hair away from his face. "I bet. Can you believe it's only been a few months?"

"It's already been a few months," Harry corrected, his hand soothing over Simone's back. There was a time when his hand covered her entire back; she was so small, and Harry was scared he might hurt her because of how delicate she was. And now it felt like she was growing too fast. He and Y/n could barely keep up with her as she grew out of her infant clothes. "Soon she'll be sitting up and crawling, then walking and talking, then going to college and getting into trouble."

"I think you missed a couple steps there," Y/n mused. "But yeah, I know what you mean."

"I'm scared I'm gonna miss all of it. Today reminded me that I wasn't even there to take you to the hospital when you went into labor. My mum had to drive you."

"But you were there when she was born, H," she reminded him. "You held my hand, you didn't complain when I squeezed it too tight. You got to cut the umbilical chord. And you'll be there for all the other milestones too. You're here. I gave you a choice a long time ago, and you chose us. Don't forget that."

"I suppose," Harry relented. He turned his head to the side to look at Y/n, careful not to move too much in case he woke up Simone. "I love you."

Y/n kissed him, cuddling into his side when she pulled away. "I love you too. Now, if you're up for it, I've thought of some ways to get back at Louis and Zayn."

Harry grinned. "I'm all ears."

[nikamuhlsrealwife777]

Based this request off the pictures of Nika flexing at the top of your profile, plus the pictures she’s posted working out and then that video of her doing leg exercises and her quads looking insane- Nika’s girlfriend just being a simp for Nika and how strong, hot and beautiful she is but also being funny and telling her that Paige has bigger muscles than her now (which honestly might be true lol)

2 HANDS - N.M.

I honestly think I write for nika the best....idk what that's about

Back at the shared dorm rooms of the UConn women's basketball team, I laid on the couch waiting for my girlfriend to come back. None of the team really cared that was constantly around. Honestly, they probably enjoyed the fact that when I was around, Nika wasn't getting on to them about something.

My phone was starting to become boring, but at the last second, a edit of Nika popped up. The edit flowing with whatever song was trending on tiktok at the moment. The clips showing Nika frustrated or just looking fine.

As the video played over and over again, the sound of keys jiggling into the keyhole made me jump up. The door opening in a second.

"I mea-Babe....you okay?" Nika stopped mid conversation to ask me, my nervous state more obvious than I'd like. Her strides quick and determined as she made her way to me. Her hands holding my arms as she looked me in the eyes.

"uh...yeah...yep," I could hear the faint sound of the music playing over and over again in the back. My nerved sky rocketing as Nika grabbed my phone.

"holy shit..." her eyes seemed to light up a little, "you were watching edits of me."

Paige snickered, "she couldn't help herself, thinking of you at the gym and everything, twin!"

Heat rose to my cheeks, "I...i wasn't watching edits. It just so happened to come on as you came home." Paige mention of the gym made my thoughts run back to what Nika looked like there. Sweating, muscles popping, a shiver ran down my spine.

"Sure, bebo." She rolled her eyes, handing me my phone back. "Couldn't help but think of these bad boys, huh?" As she flexed her arms, I couldn't help but bite my lip.

"put those awayyyy... don't wanna scare me off, do ya?" Her airy chuckle made my nerves settled a little, "but..."

An eyebrow raised as Nika looked at me, "but what?"

"I do think Paige is starting to get bigger....but who knows," a smirk rested on my lips, watching my girlfriend's face drop. She called the blonde back into the room.

"Paige! Get your ass in here!" A second passed before the blonde walked in, shorts and a sports bra the only thing covering her body. "Tell my girlfriend that I've got bigger muscles than you."

"what?!? No!" She waved her hand, shooing the girl off, "she's obviously knows what she's talking about."

Dumbfounded, Nika gave me a look, "babe...do you really think her muscles are bigger than mine?"

I shake my head, watching the girl's smile return. With one swift motion, she picked me up, walking us to her room. "Nika!"

"hmm?"

"put me down!"

"once I get you to my room, than I'll put you down," the smirk was huge, and undeniably doing something to me.

I rolled my eyes, waiting for the girl to put me down on her bed. She placed me down, standing back up to throw her shirt off her body. You would think this would go somewhere else, but it didn't go there. She started flexing, wiggling her brows down at me.

"Paige wouldn't have been able to carry you...she got fake muscles. I got the real ones, " I snicker.

"baby, I was just joking," she sighed, I stood up and wrapped my arms around her torso, "you're the strongest, sexiest woman I've ever seen. Is that better?"

She laughed, "Maybe not ask if that's better....but it definitely sounds good you calling me sexy."

We stood there for a minute, in each other's arms. I couldn't deny the fact that I was into the girl, possibly in love, but I didn't wanna be the first to say it. I didn't wanna sound dumb...but to my surprise, I wouldn't have to wait much longer.

"I love you...ya know?" Nika sounded uncertain, careful with her words. A smiled stretched across my face.

"I love you too...ya know," I leaned up to kiss her lips, "you and those gigantic muscles you have."

"you're so unserious," shaking her head, a small laugh came out.

"yeah yeah.... that's nothing knew."

[cryptonymdc]

Headcanons -> How they Hide their Identity from you (GN Reader)

Pt. 1

Superman | Clark Kent 

With the pure power of disbelief, and a little acting skills if Clark is feeling less humble. Sure, Clark is always missing any time Superman is around, but he’s a reporter! He’s gotta get the scoop! And before Lois too, they may be friendly office rivals but rivals nonetheless. Please don’t mind how Lois always has the scoop and he always somehow missed it. But, as long as those little cracks don’t shine, it’s also a handy excuse for why he runs towards danger. At least, distant danger. 

He never seems to run when the danger is right in front of you. Although, he’s something of a nervous disposition. He’ll still try to put himself between you and the gun, but if he can’t, just count yourself lucky when the bullet misses (Or he sped his hand to catch it). 

And never forget, Superman gets batted around all the time, and look at Clark, not a scratch on him. Nevermind that the public has no idea how Kryptonian Biology works, and that Clark hasn’t bruised a day in life, at least not for longer than five hours. Nah. Nothing to worry about. 

Plus, Clark is so clumsy. He just can’t help running into things, running into low hanging doorways, or getting his jackets hooked on one thing or another. And he’s also late, all the time. Has Superman ever been late? Does he look clumsy? I didn’t think so. At least, Clark doesn’t say so. 

Plus, you’ve met Clarks parents. They may be super kind, but super strength? Nah. If that were the case, Pa Kent wouldn’t have to ask Clark to help out with getting the tractors out of ditches. And if his parents don’t have superpowers, how could he? 

Clark Kent is definitely not Superman. 

Batman | Bruce Wayne 

With the power of gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. Bruce Wayne and you do not move in together quickly at all, and sleepovers at his place are as rare as a blue moon. That way you don’t notice that he gets to bed at the witching hour instead of a normal time. And the Bat, if he’s even real at all as far as Gotham can tell, only works at night. And Bruce never takes non-emergency calls after 9:00 pm. He’s really serious about a good eight hours of sleep. Honest. Even if when you try to call him to join for a morning 6:00 am run, he’s somehow out like a light. 

Of course he leaves events that get trashed by Gotham Rogues incredibly quickly. Perhaps even a few seconds before, like there was a warning. Any sane person would run from the rouges. And he’s Bruce Wayne, he’s high profile, and a little sick of getting kidnapped all the time. He promises, he’s just finding a broom closet to stick it out in. Why doesn’t he bring you? He’s Bruce Wayne, what if he gets caught? Then there's an even bigger target on your back, and he doesn’t want that. Please let it slip your mind that everyone in Gotham knows you’re with its Prince thanks to that curious Gazette. 

Why is he always so bruised and battered when you do see him with his clothes off? He told you about the boxing, right? He’s gotta keep it up. How else does a man like him stay in shape? I know he keeps refusing your runs (Thanks to their ungodly hour), but he’s getting plenty of exercise with boxing practice. Why do none of his Boxing partners seem to pull their punches? Well it’s the principle of the thing. He’d be a sore loser if he asked them to go easy on him, and the bruises look worse than they really are. 

Oh, you want to watch one of boxing matches? Maybe later. When he can arrange it. But doesn’t he do them frequently? It must be a weekly routine. Yeah, but his opponents might not like the audience, so he’ll have to ask. Sorry, Sweetheart.

Hey, at least all the trouble he gets into is boxing. It’s not like he’s Batman.  

The Flash | Barry Allen 

With the power of superspeed, seriously. It’s hard to catch the fastest man alive red handed, isn’t it? He could save you in your own home and you’d never know he was there. You knock something off the counter? No you didn’t, it’s back on the counter inches away from where your elbow just was. Must have been seeing things. It’s alright, makes you careful. You forgot your water bottle at home? That’s okay, Barry got it for you before you left. Why didn’t he give it to you before? Oh, he just thought he’d carry it until you wanted it. It’s no problem. 

Besides, it’s not weird for Barry to know a lot about the crime in Central City, he’s a forensic scientist afterall. He’s taking care of cases all the time, fighting crime on the home front. Of course he knows about all the incidents before the newspapers do, just – don’t prod his coworkers too much. He’ll answer all your questions, no need to ask them. 

And to top it all off, how could Barry Allen be the Flash? He’s always the last one there. Late with the coffee for the office, late home in the evening because he got stuck in traffic, and late to work in the mornings because he got lost, etc, etc. 

The Flash is such a motormouth, with a tease or a quip on the tip of his tongue at every second. But Barry is so sweet, and all nice words. He’d never have the confidence to laugh in the face of danger, no sir. 

Barry Allen can’t be the Flash, he’s too busy with his nine to five.

[bahablastplz]

All in | Chapter 15

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: Chan has thought up a punishment for you that doesn't really help your mental state; someone thinks of a plan to help.

chapter warnings: smut! unprotected sex

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings.

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

<< previous ♡ next >>

Beep, beep, beep, beep. Click! 

That’s the sound you get accustomed to a few times throughout the day. It’s Chan, unlocking the door to let himself in. Every time he brings in a tray of food for the two of you to eat, and most of the time you pick at it but you can’t find too much of an appetite. 

The first few times, you don’t talk to Chan at all. You’re completely silent, looking out at the forest through the barred window. Occasionally you would watch his mannerisms or react when he moves something a little bit too loud. Other than that, you make it a point not to speak at all. That’s how it started, at least. 

Each time a few hours pass in total isolation, you slowly become more and more stir crazy. Mostly, you look out the window. Sometimes, you do situps and pushups or practice the self-defense exercises that Changbin and Felix had taught you until exhaustion. You take a few naps. You take a shower. You finish the latest book that Hyunjin let you borrow. Chan visits you for dinner. You do not speak with him, eat your meal in silence, and watch as he leaves. You go to sleep for the night with an empty, hollow and rotting sensation in your chest that you have never experienced before. It might be anger directed towards Chan, but also an empty feeling knowing that you are unable to see Felix, who is in the same house as you. You wonder if he feels the same as you right now. 

Beep, beep, beep, beep. Click! 

You wake up to the sound of Chan unlocking your door in the morning with breakfast. You break your silent treatment, finally, though probably more out of boredom than anything else. You only respond to his small talk, tell him that the food is alright. 

The longer increments of time that would pass, the more anger you would find bubbling in your chest. 

“Do you really expect to keep me locked here forever?” you snap at one point. You have just finished rereading The Stranger by Albert Camus for the third time. “You know that’s how people start to lose their minds? Is that what this is? A torture device? Or is it still a sick, twisted ploy to get me to fall in love with you?” you walk around the room, pacing. Your hands are strung through your hair haphazardly as you let out a laugh. “Some sort of Stockholm syndrome to the extreme? You already fucking tried that, Chan! I’m stuck in this house with you, I can’t leave, and it didn’t work. What is your plan here?”

He blinks at you, sitting on your bed and crossing his arms across his chest. “I don’t know.” 

“You… you don’t know?” 

He chuckles and you feel your blood begin to boil. “Well, I mean, I don’t know how long I plan to keep you here. At least until the Heeseung drama boils down. Until I feel confident that Felix is just as broken down about this as you are? I mean, it’s the point of a punishment, yeah?” He runs his fingers through his hair and lets out a sigh. “Obviously I know you aren’t going to fall in love with me right now, not like this, yeah? But the thought of you and Felix, it’s so wrong, y’know? So I gotta nip it in the bud.” 

You blink away a tear but wipe it away quicker than he can see. You won’t give him the satisfaction of letting him see you cry. 

“I hate you,” you spit. When Chan stands, he closes the distance between the two of you. He swipes a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You might want to watch your mouth for now, especially when you’re the one who’s not in control,” he coos. “If you want to start getting your privileges back, you might want to consider upping the sweet talk.” He leaves as a chill racks through your body and the door slams shut, lock clicking into place behind him. 

You’re not quite sure about *sweet talking*, per say, but you suppose you could calm it down with Chan for now in order to get things back to the way they were. It’s really hard, with the way your anger bubbles every time he enters the room, every additional hour that passes. You start to feel delirious, depressed with nothing much to do, sleeping far too much and eating far too little. 

The flowers start to wilt. 

The flowers that Chan had given you for your date. You don’t even know how long ago that was at this point, feeling a bit too disoriented. You watch over days as the petals start to turn brown, curling up into themselves and falling to the floor. It’s only once every flower has finally turned to black that you convince Chan to let you leave your room. 

It’s only to Hyunjin’s room that he lets you go at first. He supervises your visit. You sit on the corner of Hyunjin’s bed and you sit and talk, nodding politely when he speaks. He updates you on Seungmin’s condition, shows you his newest painting (which is stunning beyond belief), and talks about his latest venture to the bookstore. It’s more than he’s ever talked to you at once, and you’re sure he’s doing it because he knows the effects that the isolation has had on your head, but you appreciate it more than he could ever imagine. 

Chan checks his wrist watch, clearing his throat. He tells you it’s almost time for you to go and you can’t help the panicked feeling that bubbles in your chest. You know that Hyunjin notices it too, the frantic look in your eye as you look to him for help, but there’s nothing he can do about it. You wonder if he and Chan got into a disagreement about it, if anybody besides Felix had the gall to stand up to him about your circumstance but it’s unlikely. 

As Chan guides you out, Hyunjin remembers something, handing you a new book as if it were an afterthought. A brand new copy of Wuthering Heights is placed into your hands. 

“I think you’ll really like this one,” Hyunjin muses. “I hope we get a chance to talk about it soon. I purchased this at that bookstore I was telling you about. Let me take you there one day, okay?” 

You smile at him. A true, genuine, smile before Chan takes you back to your room for dinner. Feeling a little more hopeful, you eat more than usual and talk to him more than yesterday. You think he’s expecting you to thank him. You don’t. He wishes you a good evening before he locks you in your room for the evening. 

Something about Hyunjin’s words had struck you as odd. “I hope we get to talk about it soon.” Since you moved in and Hyunjin had started giving you new books to read, although he was always very sure of himself in his choices, you had never really talked about your choices. Even today during your conversation you didn’t talk about Albert Camus’ The Stranger, which you had read a whopping four times since your isolation.

This is why you’re not as surprised when you open the book and you find a note, wedged neatly between page eight and page nine. It’s not Hyunjin’s handwriting, but Felix’s. You can’t help it when your heart picks up and beats against your chest, a smile against your face despite yourself. 

‘Dear Sunshine,

I am so sorry for everything. Each day that I have not been able to see you and that I have known that you have been behind those doors has been Hell for me, as I’m sure they’ve been Hell for you as well. Let me take you far, far, away from this place if you would let me.

If you will take me, if you want this as much as I do, let us leave tonight. Leave your bathroom light on tonight and I will know that it will be okay for us to make our escape. 

Love, LF.’ 

Are you really reading this correctly? 

It was the first night here that Chan took off his belt and whipped you with it just for leaving when he told you not to leave. What would the punishment be if you and Felix were caught? You knew the answer, and you found yourself grimacing as you thought about it. If Chan found out that you and Felix had escaped—and you had a very, very short window of time before he came looking for you, until breakfast tomorrow—he would surely kill the two of you in cold blood.

Felix, was he really to risk it all for you? No questions asked? You knew you were. 

Turning off all lights in your room, leaving just your bathroom light on for the signal and to light up your path, you get ready. You throw on some clothes, a pair of thick socks and a pair of sneakers, athletic pants and a t-shirt underneath a hoodie. You try to dress both light-weight but also warm, easy for mobility in case you have to do some running. And you take a quick nap, since it’s still light out and you’re sure that the plan won’t take place until after nightfall and you should probably be well-rested. 

You’re right. You wake up a few hours later and it’s dark outside. Felix still hasn’t shown yet. You sit right by your door and wait for him. You wait and wait and wait, your heart beating so heavily out of your chest it might explode. You literally have to calm yourself down with breathing exercises several times because you find yourself so worked up. You can’t help it–you’re so nervous about seeing him again, and about the escape, about his plans, though you’re sure he has something planned out. 

After some time has passed, you almost wonder if maybe he isn’t going to show, but you laugh at that thought. It’s Felix. Of course he’s going to show. You have never met someone more true to his word and dedicated. You just hope that everything is going according to plan. And sure enough?

Beep, beep, beep, beep. Click! 

Light from the hallway spills into your room, encasing the darkness that surrounded you. When you jump to your feet, Felix pulls you in for a very chaste kiss. His name spills silently from your lips and you see him smile before grabbing your hand, pulling you into a silent run down the hallway. You can already tell that there is going to be a long night ahead of you, though you’re relieved when Felix leads you to a mundane car, a dark mini-van, and you can’t help but think thank god we aren’t literally running away. 

You hurriedly get into the passenger seat, Felix the driver’s seat, and the two of you drive away. You watch as the house gets smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror behind you until it completely disappears, and most of your anxiety along with it. 

“You came for me.” you say finally. 

“Of course I did,” Felix says, his voice soft. “I just had to work out the logistics. I’m so so incredibly sorry it took me that long. I hope you can forgive me.” 

“It’s really happening?” you ask him. “We’re really leaving?” 

Felix only smiles. “I did everything I could. I was even able to get your sister out of your house, I sent her somewhere safe where Chan can’t find her to retaliate.”

“Thank you, Felix,” you say, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Really, really, thank you.” 

He reaches over the center console and grabs your hand, bringing it to his face to kiss along your knuckles. 

“You have no need to thank me. This is my escape too. In reality, I owe you just as much.” Your heart squeezes at his words. You don’t really understand the weight behind his words but you hope that he will open up to you about them one day. About his past and his history with Chan. You stare at Felix, at the way the passing headlights illuminate his face and accentuate his features, and you just sit there and watch and watch, drinking him in and hoping that you will never have to let him go again. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You’re expecting to arrive at some sort of hotel/motel, similar to the one you and Felix had shared after the night at the gala. What you weren’t expecting was an apartment building, at least ten stories tall in the middle of a city a few hours away. 

Felix parks the car, a protective hand around your waist the whole walk to the building. He holds you so close you find it almost difficult to walk. The elevator takes you up to the eighth floor, where Felix leads you down the hall. The building looks well-kept, maintained inside, contrasting from its run-down exterior. 

Felix leans over the door, typing a code into the keypad. It swings open revealing a large furnished studio apartment. 

“This place looks really nice,” you admit. “It is a step-up from the motel. How did you…” 

“Chan isn’t the only one that has his connections,” Felix says, sighing as he throws a backpack down next to him. He closed the door behind him, locking it. He walks around the apartment several times, making sure that every window is locked and secure as well. “It’s safe here. We should be able to stay here for a few days before we need to pick up again. But this place is completely alarmed and equipped with security codes. He won’t find us here, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nod. You really do trust him. You feel safe. 

“The password for the front door is 0325,” Felix tells you. You don’t know why that action alone makes you want to tear up. You’re not a prisoner anymore. You’re really free. 

“Thank you,” you tell him, shucking your hoodie off of your body. You don’t miss the way his eyes rack over your frame at the way your shirt picks up slightly. How does he still manage to make you blush? “How did you get the code for my door?” you ask him. You had been wondering about it for a while, as there was no way that Chan had given it to him. 

“Hyunjin told me,” Felix discloses. “He was the only other person besides Chan that knew the code, in case of an emergency or if Chan was away and he needed to give you food.” 

“He was the only one?” you ask. “But that means… Won’t Chan know that Hyunjin…” 

“Hyunjin has already come to terms with things,” Felix says remorsefully. “I didn’t want it to go down like this either, but Hyunjin really was willing to make a sacrifice for you. For both of us. Nothing horrible is going to happen–he isn’t going to be killed, but I’m sure the punishment will be brutal.” 

You shake your head, unwilling to believe his words. “I can’t believe Hyunjin would do that for us. I really thought he was loyal to Chan.” 

“At the end of the day there must have been something he found more important to put his trust in,” he smiles. “I think he realized how bad your mental state was after spending over a week in that room.” 

“It was over a week?” you nearly cry. Felix holds you tight to his chest. You don’t cry–you’ve already come to terms with what has happened. When you pull apart, you look into his eyes and find that he has tears of his own that have started to build up. Now that is something that you had not anticipated. 

“I’m sorry–” he starts to say, but you crash your lips into his instead. Your hands pull into his hair and you push your body into his, do anything you can to get your body as inhumanly close to his as possible, so that you can feel every touch of his skin against yours. 

Felix’s hands wander underneath your hoodie, tugging off the material and throwing it to the floor in a desperate show. His hands roam your body, his lips never once leaving your skin. This time he makes it a show to suck a mark into any available surface, licking and sucking dark purples and pinks into your neck, collarbones, shoulders, breasts–any area of skin that was once pristine now has Felix’s claim on it. 

“You’re mine, do you understand? You’re mine and I’m yours.” 

“Yes, Felix, yes,” you agree, letting him push you back against the bed. He towers over you for a second, dropping to his knees onto the floor so that he can pull off the material of your pants. You lift your hips, allowing him to. You push your thighs together, utterly exposed in front of him but also so aroused by his stare and he grabs your thighs, pushing them apart. 

“Beautiful,” he comments. You throw an arm over your face, embarrassed by his comment. “Don’t hide from me, angel,” he says, kissing the insides of your thighs. “You’re mine, right? Can I compliment what’s mine? You’re not going to hide away what’s mine, hmm?” When you don’t immediately answer him, your chest rising and falling rapidly from his words, you feel a slight pinch come from inside your thigh. You look down at his mischievous face to realize he has just lightly slapped your inner thigh to get a response. 

“N-no, Felix,” you moan. 

“No, what?” he teases, his mouth going higher and higher still, his breath right above your center but waiting. 

“No, I’m not going to hide from you. Yes, you can compliment me,” you reply.

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he groans. “Prove it, then. Open those legs wide for me.” And you do. You spread your legs as far as they would go and Felix rewards you by immediately diving in, his tongue lapping at your clit like a man starved. As much as your thighs tremble and shake and threaten to close, you don’t let them. Your eyes stay on Felix, and his eyes on yours. 

Suddenly, Felix pulls away with a pop. 

“What–”

He climbs onto the bed and lays down, leaving you utterly confused before he grabs you by the waist, manhandling you effortlessly by the waist onto his face. 

“Felix, what are you doing?” 

“I want you to sit on my face,” he responds, his hands caressing your thighs as if trying to coax you down to properly take your seat. 

“Are you sure? I–”

“Please, just, use me. Make yourself cum, and then I’ll fuck you open on my cock.” You can’t deny how appealing his words sound, and he had already worked you up just seconds ago so you can’t find the resolve to protest much longer. Eagerly, you sit. His tongue prods your entrance, pushing in as far as it will go. You rock yourself back and forth on his face, your clit occasionally catching on his nose, and you find Felix’s hands taking place on your ass to help you find your pace. 

Once you build up a rhythm you ride him in earnest, like nothing matters but him beneath you right now and your climax building up. He knows you’re close when he feels your thighs clench tighter around your head and your back starts to arch back, and your noises have become louder. You do exactly what he told you to do–you use him for your pleasure until you’re having one of the longest, most drawn-out orgasms of your life. 

When you finally crawl off of him, Felix wastes no time before flipping your positions, making your stomach turn with butterflies. He pulls his pants off in one swift motion and you take a moment to look at him in awe, to really just appreciate him and his beautifully toned body despite seeing it a few times before. 

You watch as he strokes his cock a few times, his eyes fixated on your pussy. He pushes forward, and just to tease–intentionally catches the head of it on your overstimulated clit, causing you to cry out. 

“Felix!” your hips buck up, your legs wrap around him, doing anything you can just to get him to enter you properly. 

“Do you want me that bad?” he asks with a smile, his voice a low timbre in your ear. 

“Yes, Felix, stop fucking teasing me, you know I want you–” and with that, he pushes right into you, fully sheathing himself in one thrust. Your hands come up to push crescent fingernail indents into his shoulders, just to ground yourself from the overwhelming sensation. 

Felix wastes no time before fucking you like he really means it, his hips pulling out to meet yours flush each time. The way his hips roll in a fluid motion into yours has you crying out, wrapping your legs around him. 

“Fuck, you’re clenching me so tight,” he pants. “I’m going to cum soon, baby. Where do you want it?” 

You wrap your legs even tighter around him. 

His hand snakes up to your neck, just placing it there, not even squeezing but it still causes you to cry out with a moan that is borderline pornagraphic. 

“You’re being so dirty, baby. Are you trying to tell me something? You want me to cum inside? Because you’re going to have you use your words to tell me that or else it’s not gonna happen,” he grins. 

His hips snap into yours so hard it’s almost bruising, but you’re so close to your second orgasm that you think you could fall over the edge any second. 

“FELIX,” you finally cry out. You’re sure the scratches you’re leaving into his back are going to leave marks, if not bleed. 

“Fuck, you gotta tell me now.” 

“Inside! Inside! I want you to cum inside, fuck, I love you Felix, please!” you sob. 

He kisses you. Rather, his lips smash into yours so hard you’re not sure what is happening, but you’re cumming so hard it’s blinding. You can feel him still as he fills you up with warm ropes of his cum. 

When you both finally come down, Felix flops beside you and you immediately curl into his chest. He embraces you, his hands stroking unknown symbols into your skin. 

“Did you mean it?” he finally asks. 

You don’t have to ask what he’s referring to. “Yes,” you reply. “I think I’ve known it for a long time.”

“I love you, too.” Felix tells you, grabbing your chin so that he can press another kiss into your lips. “You mean the world to me.” 

That night, Felix looks around the apartment again, making sure that everything is in its place. When you see that there is both a couch and a bed, you make a joke about sleeping on the couch that causes him to quite literally pick you up and throw you into bed with him. You fall asleep like that, intertwined in his arms, not worried about accidentally getting caught and what the consequences might be tomorrow. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You toss and turn. Images plague your mind. A guilt-ridden feeling plagues your gut. 

Minho, who gets anxiety on missions, who wanted to get away from his family and the life of crime from his childhood, but couldn’t let Jisung go alone for fear of what Chan would do to him.

Changbin, who has only wanted to protect his family, but instead Chan has held that over his head.

Hyunjin, who didn’t really know how to find himself after being told who to be, who didn’t know what to do with his life, exploited by Chan. 

Jisung, who has never had anybody tell him that he is good for more than shooting things and a life of violent crime, and had Chan take advantage of that. 

Seungmin, who had only one dream and had it taken away through an injury, was falsely promised by Chan that one day he could get the surgery and recover to play baseball again. 

Jeongin, who turned to a life of crime but was told he could have the money to go to fashion school, all if he would become Chan’s lackey. 

Even Felix, who you’re sure has been through something just as horrible, though he hasn’t told you yet… 

At the end of the day, there’s one common factor in all of this evil. 

You know that you can’t stay here and live a fantasy life, where you get to escape and be free while the rest of them are trapped there and still living in a nightmare. At the end of the day, you have started to develop close relationships with each and every one of them, and you can’t bring yourself to think more about the horrors that Chan continues to inflict on them each day while you get to run away with Felix. 

Picking up Felix’s arm, you kiss him on the head. You feel very remorseful for what you’re about to do, for the amount of mental anguish you are probably about to put him in when everything was finally going to go your way. You wish you could have relished in this a little bit longer. 

Opening up the bedside table, you grab Felix’s car keys and his gun. 

This has to end, and it has to end now. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

a/n: we're getting close to the end! two main chapters and two mini chapters left!! sorry for the delay today guys, I only had this chapter half written i wrote the rest in a coffee shop lol <3

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[gilverrwrites]

Sweet talker

Dick Grayson/Reader, 600 words Kinktober entry 9: Pillow humping Warnings: None! Requested by: Anonymous

At home alone, or in front of anybody else, you’d feel ridiculous, kneeling in the middle of the bed with your legs on either side of an old pillow that you’d wrapped in a towel, but Dick with his comforting eyes and beguiling smile could charm you into being excited about anything. You’re still nervous, anxiously rubbing the corner of the pillow between your fingers, but you’ve wanted to try this ever since Dick had suggested it as an exercise to build confidence.

“You can do this.” Dick encourages, pressing a kiss to each of your cheeks in turn, and then your lips. His hands are warm as they massage your upper arms, rubbing the tips of his strong fingers into your tense muscles as he works his way down. It feels heavenly and goes a long way in easing your apprehensions and riling you up. Finally, he reaches your hands, bringing each of them to his lips for two more chaste kisses before he sits back, cross-legged against the headboard and watches you with a tender smile he only ever musters for you.

Despite his admiration and praise, you’re hesitant to start, biting your lip as you consider the cushion and how you might go about riding it until Dick gently urges you on; “Just pretend it’s me.”

That helps actually, more than you might have expected. Slowly, you draw your hips backwards, then forward once more, repeating the motion until you find a speed that works for you. It feels strange, the dry fabric pushing between your folds, but good. So good. So, so good that moisture quickly begins to rub off from your seeping pussy, staining the towel below it.

“That’s it, baby. Just like that.” Dick coos and your skin instantly feels hot. His prurient gaze makes you feel flustered in the best possible way. His hand is buried in his boxers, making the fabric jump as he hits it from beneath with each jerk of his cock.

Watching him get so worked up over you bolsters your ego somewhat, enough that you have no qualms lowering yourself against the bed, building more pressure on your clit as you rock your hips faster and faster, meeting the speed of Dick’s pumps.

“Does that feel good, princess?” Dick asks with a breathy tone, and you laugh at the nickname. You’d told him talking might be too much for you, so he doesn’t push for any more of an answer beyond your rapidly nodding head. “Good. Good, good. You look so hot.”

The compliment goes straight to your cloudy head and throbbing core. It’s enough to thrust you toward the edge, and you surprise yourself by letting out a loose, sensual moan as you clumsily rut your hips right over the edge. You watch Dick, as he watches you the whole time. His unimpeached awe motivates you through the euphoric release that spills all over your towel-wrapped cushion.  

“That was so sexy.” Dick grunts. There's a wet patch in his underwear, but his length is still visibly erect and he continues working his hand around it. Though you haven’t caught your breath yet, you lean forward, eager to assist but he quickly sits up, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet, needy kiss which steals what little air is left in your lungs until he gently bullies you back into your upright position. His blue eyes stare into yours affectionately when he pulls back.

An excited chill shoots through your body, coiling up in your centre as he rests a hand on your hips, gently guiding you to roll your hips once more. Your oversensitive clit aches at the stimulation and you bite your lip to hold back another whimper.

“C'mon baby, give me one more so we can cum together. Can you do that for me?” He asks, and you nod eagerly, well aware of the spell his sweet talk has over you.  

Reminder: to be proud of yourself, even for the little things.

Kinktober Masterlist

[count-on-mi]

Mommy's little boy Part 3 (Jeongyeon)

A/N: I am really sorry that I am suffering from the heavy workload for my job so I don't even have any mood or time to write, so just upload an draft that was ready for so long, and my first Jeongyeon smut.

My mum, Jeongyeon usually looks noble and elegant, like a lady, I accidentally discovered a little secret she hides - she is particularly interested in using handcuffs during sex.

One time I went to her bedroom to look for something and found a brand-new pair of leather handcuffs hidden in a box under the bed. At the time, I thought it was Jeongyeon’s collection. After all, she is the kind of girl who likes to collect small objects. Later, I discovered several pieces of sexy underwear and stockings in the handcuffs' packaging bag, and then I realized that these might not be just "collectables."

Sure enough, I eavesdropped on several phone conversations between her and her friends, and I heard Jeongyeon complaining that my dad had never tried to discipline her with handcuffs, saying how much she longed to be tied up and ravaged, to experience that sense of futility, helpful and stimulating feeling.

It turns out that Jeongyeon, who looks noble on the outside, also has perverted desires in her heart, which gave me a new understanding of her and an interest in her. Whenever I see such a twisted mind hidden under her noble and elegant appearance, I get so excited that I want to immediately hold her down and punish her so that she can know what true happiness is.

One evening, I walked in while Jeongyeon was practicing pole dancing in her exclusive practice room. At that time, Jeongyeon was only wearing a tight dance suit, with her slender legs exposed and her breasts swaying slightly due to the intense exercise. I deliberately interrupted her practice and went up to chat with her.

"Mom, your pole dancing is getting better and better! I really want to know what would happen if you were tied up there?" I said with a smirk.

"Oh! Don't make such a joke!" Jeongyeon scolded me with a red face. I knew this little stimulation was enough to arouse her arousal.

"If Mom really likes handcuffs so much, why not try it today?" I took out the handcuffs I had prepared and waved them in front of her.

"My son…what do you want to do…" Jeongyeon's voice was trembling, and I knew she was already a little emotional.

"I want to give Mom a little surprise." I approached her, easily wrapped my arms around her waist, and pressed her against the steel pipe.

"Ah…My son…don't…" Jeongyeon's tone has softened, and I know that she has completely surrendered to her desires.

I clasped her hands together behind her back, and then slowly took off her dance clothes until she was completely naked before my eyes.

Jeongyeon's body was flawless, and her snow-white skin reflected a soft light in the dim training room. I stretched out the tip of my tongue to lick the two bright red spots on her chest. I kneaded her elastic buttocks with one hand and probed into her private parts with the other hand. I easily found the hidden flower core and drew circles around it to tease.

"Um… My son… no…" Jeongyeon's body trembled slightly, and the corners of her eyes were filled with confusion. She tried hard not to scream, but every time my fingers brushed the sensitive flesh The core caused her to let out a low moan.

I held the cock that was already ready for battle, rubbed it against the entrance of her flower hole, and then pushed forward with all my strength. "Ah…it's too big…My son…" Jeongyeon finally couldn't help but scream out. She arched her back to bear my fierce attack, and honey juice continued to flow out from the place where the two of them met.

"Mom, you're so tight down there. I've long wanted to fuck you until you lose consciousness." I leaned down and bit her ear, gasping while thrusting vigorously.

"Ah… My son… slow down… I want to be fucked by you…" Jeongyeon's reason has been swallowed up by desire. She twisted her waist to meet my movements, craving like a complete bitch. More.

I hit the deepest part of her hard, each stroke bringing us huge pleasure. Jeongyeon was moaning loudly after being fucked by me. Her whole body was covered with a thin layer of sweat, making her look extremely sexy and sultry.

"Scream louder! I just love hearing my mother scream!" I grabbed her hair and pulled it back, forcing her to look up at me.

Jeongyeon's expression is both painful and happy, and her wet eyes make me feel pity for her, but I can't help but want to destroy her last shred of self-esteem.

"Mom, do you think this is too perverted? You are my mother, but you are doing this kind of thing with me…" I deliberately slowed down and changed to slow friction. Every time I pressed against the most sensitive part, on one point.

"Ah…don't…stop…My son…continue…" Jeongyeon's mind was already in confusion. She shook her head randomly, unable to understand what I was saying.

I quickened the pace again and took all of her wildly. "Mom, do you know who you are having sex with? It's me, your son!" I laughed maliciously, and every time I penetrated her deeper, she moaned louder.

"Oh…My son…I can't stand it anymore…I'm almost there…" Jeongyeon's eyes turned white and she was foaming at the mouth. I knew she was about to climax.

I pushed hard to the end, then leaned on her, sealing her mouth with my lips. Our tongue tips chased and sucked each other, sharing each other's saliva. Jeongyeon's orgasm was so intense that she clutched my back, her nails leaving deep scratches on my skin. I also reached the extreme at the same time and ejaculated a large amount of hot cum in the deepest part of Jeongyeon.

We held each other tightly, enjoying the afterglow of orgasm. Two lines of tears fell from the corners of Jeongyeon's eyes. I don't know whether it was because of pleasure or shame, maybe both. I kissed the corners of her eyes gently, kissing away those tears one by one.

I've been waiting for this day for so long - finally being able to fuck Jeongyeon in my fantasies. Jeongyeon was trembling slightly under me, her lips were slightly open, her eyes were out of focus, and her expression was like that of a girl who had just gone through puberty. This gave me an indescribable sense of satisfaction and accomplishment.

I know that Jeongyeon must be ashamed at this moment, but the more she shows this reaction, the more my desire to conquer is aroused. I raised Jeongyeon's legs again and wrapped them around my waist, and then buried myself deeply inside her again.

"Oh…My son…slow down…I can't bear it…" Jeongyeon begged me to slow down, but I remained unmoved. Instead, I thrust into her deepest parts even more fiercely. "Mom, you're so hot inside, it's like you were tailor-made for me." I smiled proudly, while increasing my speed, thrusting to the bottom every time, feeling the pleasure of her tight muscles wrapping around me.

"Ah… My son… you are too… too big…" Jeongyeon was so fucked that she lost her voice. She tried to raise her neck to escape from my attack but to no avail.

I looked at Jeongyeon's painful expression under me, and I felt an evil fire rising in my heart. She is supposed to be my mother, but now she is like a doll, letting me do whatever I want. This feels so wonderful!

I increased my speed a little more, hitting her G-spot hard every time, causing her to scream again and again. Jeongyeon was fucked so hard by me that she became incontinent, and a warm current surged out of her body, but I continued to fuck her, trying to force out more of her body fluids.

Jeongyeon looked at her hands that were handcuffed to the steel pipe, and then at her son who was raping her, feeling a sense of shame and guilt. But what followed was an unprecedented pleasure - which was completely different from what her husband had given her. Her son's thick, long and powerful flesh blade was raging inside her body, bringing intense pleasure with every blow.

She recalled her married life with my father, a weak man who could not meet her needs no matter what. As time passed, her interest in sex became less and less. It wasn't until my appearance that she rekindled the flame of desire.

Now, she was lying here, being raped by her son, and she was still enjoying the pleasure! This made Jeongyeon feel extremely ashamed, but she couldn't control her body and instead actively catered to her son's attack.

I roughly took possession of every part of her, from her breasts to her thighs, to the center of her body below. There was no part that I missed. Jeongyeon never thought that she would be so addicted to sex, especially when she was possessed by her biological son. I suddenly quickened my pace, and each thrust violently opened her door, reaching the deepest part of her soft flesh. Jeongyeon's reason completely disappeared at this time, leaving only endless desire dominating her. She yelled for her son to push harder and push it all in, not caring what a ridiculous request it was.

"My son…you are so powerful…you are going to break me…" Jeongyeon screamed incoherently. She had lost the ability to think and could only follow her instincts to pursue the greatest pleasure.

I heard her words and was obviously encouraged. I growled and accelerated the rhythm. Each stroke was more ferocious than the previous one, driving straight into the deepest part of Jeongyeon, as if I wanted to fuck the entire body.

"Mom, do you know how much I long for you? I have been imagining the scene now - occupying every inch of your skin, doing whatever I want inside you… Now I finally did it!" I shouted, like It violently fucked Jeongyeon’s pussy like a wild animal.

"Ah…My son…you are so big…I won't be able to do it…" Jeongyeon was so stunned by me that she raised her head, her eyes were blurred, and she was completely lost in the whirlpool of lust.

I looked at Jeongyeon underneath me. This was the image I had been dreaming about for many years - my mother was naked, being held down and fucked wildly by me. The place where she once gave birth to me has now become mine. plaything. This taboo stimulation makes my blood boil. I just want to violate her more fiercely and turn her into my private property.

I picked up Jeongyeon's thighs, folded her into a very aggressive position, and then thrust inside her hard. "Ah——!" Jeongyeon exclaimed, her lower body was completely filled by me, and the deepest part was completely occupied by me.

"Mom, you see clearly, I am inside you now, and we are finally truly one." I showed a proud smile and began to thrust vigorously.

"Oh…My son…you are going to…break me…" Jeongyeon cried. She twisted around desperately to escape my attack, but I held her firmly and refused to let her go. "No, Mom, you are mine now and will never leave." I gasped and sped up, each stroke bringing out more body fluids from Jeongyeon's body, making my pubic hair wet.

"Hmm… My son… you are much stronger than your dad… fuck me… harder…" Jeongyeon was immersed in my offensive. She forgot all shame and just wanted to pursue a bigger one. pleasure.

"Mom, it turns out that you have always wanted me to treat you like this, so let go of everything now, and I will give you an orgasm you have never had before." I smiled proudly, grabbed Jeongyeon's wrist and pulled her up, letting her lean against her. My body takes my fucks.

"Ah… My son… I really can't do it anymore… Where are you going to cum…" Jeongyeon felt my flesh blade expand more and more inside her body, and knew that I was almost there. "Of course, I will cum directly inside you, Mom, I want to fill you with my seed." I accelerated my thrusting, and finally buried it deeply into her bottom, shooting out wave after wave of hot semen on the center of the flower.

"Oh——!" Jeongyeon screamed, completely filled with my heat, and her reason completely collapsed.

I looked at Jeongyeon who was fucked into a daze by me, and the desire to conquer in my heart was satisfied to the greatest extent. From now on, Jeongyeon is no longer my mother, but a woman who belongs to me. I can possess her, manipulate her at any time, and turn her into a sex-chasing machine.

I leaned down and kissed Jeongyeon's lips. Her tongue immediately intertwined with mine, and their fluids exchanged. I slowly pulled out but remained inside her, ready for the next round of fighting.

"Mom, are you ready? We have a whole day ahead," I murmured in her ear as I pushed forward and penetrated her again.

"Ah…My son…don't…" Jeongyeon's body has been toyed with by me until her whole body aches, but I still have no intention of stopping. She didn't know how many times I had cum inside her, and her body was filled with my sticky semen, which even continued to overflow from our joint and wet the sheets underneath her.

"My son… I can't stand it anymore… let's stop, please…" Jeongyeon begged me, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes, but more of them were the remnants of pleasure. "It's impossible, Mom, I'm going to fuck you to the core, and I won't stop until you completely belong to me." I smiled evilly and increased my speed as if I wanted to stuff my whole body into Jeongyeon's body.

"Ah…oh my god…" Jeongyeon shouted in a daze. She desperately grabbed my shoulders to use her strength, for fear that I would knock her apart.

I picked up Jeongyeon's body and turned her over to kneel on the bed. This position raised her buttocks high, making it easier for me to penetrate further. I held Jeongyeon's waist, entered her body again, and then started thrusting hard.

"Mom, do you feel it? I have reached the deepest part of you. I want to take it completely, including your most private part." I growled, pushing against Jeongyeon's heart with every stroke, like As if to open it completely.

"Ah…My son…you are going to fuck me to death…" Jeongyeon cried, she was completely under my control and could only let me do whatever I wanted inside her.

In this way, I continued to fuck Jeongyeon for several hours, until the sunset and shone into the room through the window, I reluctantly withdrew from Jeongyeon's body and unlocked her from the handcuff.

At dinner time, Jeongyeon and I sat down to eat together. On the surface, it looked like normal. But I know that Jeongyeon has not completely let go of the shame and guilt of my raping her. She just doesn't want me to see her weak side.

I gently caressed Jeongyeon's belly, which still contained the bodily cum I had just injected. The blood of the mother and son mixed, forming a twisted connection. "Mom, what do you want to do tonight?" I asked knowingly, but actually I wanted to guide Jeongyeon to give up resistance and obey my wishes.

"…I want to sleep, My son." Jeongyeon replied coldly as if telling me that this is the end of tonight.

I'm a little disappointed, but I also understand that Jeongyeon needs some time to adjust to this new relationship. So I had to let her go and let her go back to her room to rest. At night, while my dad was away at work, Jeongyeon suddenly came to my room with a pair of handcuffs in her hand. I was a little surprised and didn't know what she meant.

"Mom, what are you…" I tried to persuade her to give up this stupid behavior.

"I haven't settled the accounts with you for what happened during the day." Jeongyeon's tone was cold. She grabbed me by the collar and threw me hard on the bed. "Mom, what are you talking about…" I tried to stand up, but saw that Jeongyeon had already handcuffed my wrists.

"Since you raped me during the day, it's my turn to take revenge on you." Jeongyeon looked at me condescendingly, with a trace of madness in her eyes.

I was a little panicked, but I also knew that I couldn't stop Jeongyeon. She quickly took off my clothes, exposing my whole body, then climbed onto the bed, spread my lips with her fingers, and penetrated me unceremoniously.

I tried to resist, but once I was subdued by Jeongyeon, all my efforts were in vain. Her fingers were domineering inside my mouth, roughly exploring every corner, forcing me to serve her. "Well… you learn so fast… good boy." Jeongyeon took out her fingers, which were stained with my saliva. She stuck out her tongue and licked the water on them, her expression showing great enjoyment.

I knew Jeongyeon was trying to humiliate me, but my physiological reaction was out of control. Under Jeongyeon's stimulation, my lower body gradually began to react, and the flesh blade set up a small tent under my shorts.

"Humph, you reacted so quickly? It turns out that you are also looking forward to being violated by me." Jeongyeon looked at me contemptuously, stretched out her hand to touch my cock, and kneaded it through the fabric.

"Um…Mom…don't be like this…" I twisted around in embarrassment, but was pinned down by Jeongyeon on the bed, unable to move.

"Don't worry, I will love you well." Jeongyeon smiled and took off her clothes, revealing her beautiful body.

I stared at Jeongyeon's body closely. She was like a sexy goddess, approaching me step by step, but I was trapped in place, unable to do anything.

Jeongyeon sat astride my thighs, holding my flesh blade with her hands, and slowly sat down after finding the correct position. I only felt a sultry heat wrapping around my front end, and Jeongyeon's body cavity was extremely soft as if my flesh blade had been swallowed alive. "Oh…Mom…it's so deep…" I moaned unconsciously, the pleasure of being completely possessed by Jeongyeon almost overwhelming my reason. "Moan louder, don't hold back, My son." Jeongyeon looked down at me, with the pride of a conqueror in her eyes.

She began to move her waist up and down, allowing my meat blade to move in and out of her body. My cock was lubricated by her nectar, and the movements became smoother. The walls of Jeongyeon's body cavity squeezed my crown, causing a numbing sensation. I couldn't help but gasp loudly.

"Oh…Mom…slow down…" I begged Jeongyeon to slow down. Her fierce attack made me unable to resist.

"No, I want to penetrate you and take all of you." Jeongyeon's voice became hoarse and sexy. She sped up the swing of her waist, and at the same time, she used more force on my cock.

There was a dizziness in front of my eyes, and the pleasure brought by Jeongyeon came in waves like a tide. I couldn't think at all and could only follow my instinctive reaction. My breathing became rapid, my chest heaved up and down, Jeongyeon's fingers twisted my nipples, and the double stimulation of the sensitive parts made me crazy.

"Mom…I'm almost there…" I realized that I was about to cum inside Jeongyeon, but I couldn't control my emotions. "Cum for me, spread all your seeds inside me." Jeongyeon shouted without restraint, and she increased her speed, as if she wanted to drain my whole body.

At the last moment, my sanity was disconnected, I pushed forward with all my strength, and ejaculated inside Jeongyeon. Wave after wave of hot water spurted out, and I felt unprecedented relief, and my whole body was trembling with orgasm.

"Ahh…" Even though I had reached my climax, Jeongyeon had no intention of letting it go. She was still swinging her waist, letting my cock rub and pump inside her. My already extremely sensitive area was stimulated again, and I couldn't help but cry out.

"Mom…that's enough…let me take a rest…" I looked at Jeongyeon helplessly, only to see her eyes were blurred, and the corners of her mouth raised a coquettish arc.

"Look, you're hard again. Didn't you beg for mercy just now?" Jeongyeon held my cock, feeling its hardness and pulse.

I did have feelings again. How could I resist the hot squirming in Jeongyeon's body? But my rationality tells me that if I continue, I will be tortured by Jeongyeon until I become dehydrated.

"I really…can't do it anymore…Mom…" I almost burst into tears. This sex was really beyond my ability to bear.

"Oh? Are you afraid that I'll hurt you?" Jeongyeon raised an eyebrow. She sped up her lower body movements, and my cock rubbed red inside her body.

"No…I'm afraid that I can't bear it…" I confessed frankly that Jeongyeon's skills were so good, she seemed to know how to stimulate me to the maximum extent.

"Don't worry, I will make you so happy." Jeongyeon smiled charmingly, and she increased her speed and intensity, as if she really wanted to torture me to the point of insanity.

My consciousness became increasingly blurred, and all the senses in my body seemed to be focused on my lower body. Every time Jeongyeon fucked me, I was intoxicated. My penis swelled more and more inside her, and the pleasure doubled. I no longer knew what I was shouting, I just kept shaking my head and buttocks in time with Jeongyeon's rhythm.

"Ahhh…I'm going…Mom…" I whimpered, my lower body reached climax again, and a thick white sticky substance spurted out from the cock, and all of it was injected into Jeongyeon's body.

However, Jeongyeon didn't stop, she was still bobbing up and down, and my cock continued to move in and out of her body. My reason has long been far away from me, leaving only the most primitive lust dominating my thinking.

"Mom…let me rest…I really can't do it anymore…" I struggled to get up, but Jeongyeon pushed me back to the bed.

"It doesn't matter, we still have a long time to play." Jeongyeon said with a smile. She increased the pressure of her weight, allowing my cock to go deeper into her body. I felt as if my body was about to be swallowed up by Jeongyeon. The wall of her body cavity was like a huge black hole, sucking in all my energy. My physical strength is draining away, and my mind is drifting away. I am like a toy in Jeongyeon's hands, letting her take whatever she wants.

Jeongyeon's speed is getting faster and faster, and I have feelings again. During this cycle, I didn't know how many times I had ejaculated, nor how much energy I still had. All I knew was that I was becoming addicted to this endless sexual affair and could no longer extricate myself.

"Mom…" I moaned, and another turbulence erupted from my lower body. "So good, You a lot more." Jeongyeon smiled frivolously, lowered her head, stuck out her tongue and swirled it around my nipples. My whole body was shaken, and the pleasure instantly spread to all my limbs. My cock also became erect again, as if it would never tire. "Mom…I'm really going to die…" I cried, but couldn't help but follow Jeongyeon's movements.

"Then you die under me." Jeongyeon said viciously. She sped up her lower body and sucked my nipples harder.

I was completely immersed in this infinite pleasure, as if I was in heaven. I no longer know where I am, and I don't care if I am still alive. I just want more, I want Jeongyeon to bring me endless orgasms.

"Ah…Mom…I'm coming again…" I growled, my body beating fiercely inside Jeongyeon. "Then cum for me, cum all for me!" Jeongyeon shouted wildly. She clasped her legs tightly on my hips and slammed her lower body against my cock.

My sanity finally broke completely, I roared loudly, and once again released a large amount of turbid hot liquid inside Jeongyeon's body. I feel like my cock has become numb. It only knows how to keep twitching and gushing, sacrificing everything it has to Jeongyeon.

In these rounds of sex, I seemed to have lost myself and became Jeongyeon’s exclusive plaything. The only thing I can do is surrender to her and give everything I have…

A whole night passed, and I was tortured by Jeongyeon until I became inhuman. I don't remember how many times I ejaculated, I just felt like my cock was about to explode. Jeongyeon's body was also covered with my seed, and there was thick white fluid inside and outside her body. But she didn't seem tired at all and was even more energetic than before. I was lying on the bed, my eyes were distracted and my consciousness was in a trance. My penis was hanging there limply, covered with traces of our intercourse. "How are you, my good son, are you feeling comfortable?" Jeongyeon climbed on top of me, and she stroked my body with her hands, her tone a bit teasing. I couldn't answer, so I just snorted softly.

"I thought you were going to be drained by me, but it turns out that you look like you are enjoying it." Jeongyeon sneered, and she used her fingers to rub circles on the cock, as if to wake it up again.

I tried my best to turn my head away from her touch. Although the cock has a tendency to rise its head again, I really can't bear it anymore. "Don't…Mom…I really don't have a drop left…" I begged weakly, tears flowing down uncontrollably.

"Oh? Really?" Jeongyeon stared at me playfully, and then suddenly kissed my lips. Her nimble tongue entered my mouth and intertwined with mine. My mind fell into chaos again, and my lower body became erect again uncontrollably.

"You see, you are just a greedy child," Jeongyeon said easily. She stood up, supported my cock and pointed it at her already-soaked pussy. I closed my eyes and waited for the arrival of a new round of violent storms…

From then on, whenever my father went out to work, Jeongyeon and I would have a lot of sex in bed, as if this had become our daily compulsory routine. Jeongyeon became more and more aggressive, trying various ways to possess me, whether it was a normal position or some unspeakable posture, she would try them one by one.

And I have been completely conquered by Jeongyeon. I am addicted to her sex and have become her toy that is ready for use at any time. I catered to her every request without shame and even made some perverted requests to please her.

Our lives seemed to consist only of sex. Except for going to school, we almost stayed in bed and had sex. My grades plummeted, but I didn't care. All I care about is her, my beloved mommy.