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#revolving door activism
incohearent · 19 days
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The fall of Erin Janus is pretty typical for vegans and animal rights activists to fight courageously for animal rights for a few years and then give up, thinking that they've done their part. Animal rights cannot advance unless we stay together as a movement and never give up and and never get distracted by something shiny and pretty and so much more gratifying than speaking out against the zolocaust.
Tom Regan knew this error and gave his emotive speech Sword of Truth Torch of Justice [Youtube link] in 1988. Even almost four decades ago an ARA knew that animal rights could only make a difference if they collectively stay activists. This phenomena is called "revolving door activism". I also would like vegans to listen to Jeremy the Ape's video here about "animal ambassador". He explains revolving door activism in the sense that Tom Regan once spoke of it.
I hope ex-vegans can come back to the movement. Remember that it is about the animals, not "us". When we forget our silly self-obsession and remember humility, we can do our part to make the world a better place! And, really, ex-vegans, when you were vegan you were making a difference.
It’s a question you may have heard one too many times: Do vegans really save animals? And it’s never been clearer that the answer to that question is an enthusiastic yes!
The proof? According to the USDA, 400 million fewer animals were slaughtered in 2014 than in 2007. That’s 400 million individuals who were spared a lifetime of unimaginable suffering.
And remember that we are not "saving" animals in a more genuine, pure, rhetoric. In a pure rhetoric, the one that recognizes our moral position, in truth, we are "sparing" them.'
Dairy is Scary on Youtube
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andy-clutterbuck · 2 years
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Dr. Robert Bridge ✤ Afterlife
➺ Hello, Professor when are office hours
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funnyscienceman · 9 months
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i cant draw for shit but this is how i imagine a modern lore TF & Evelynn dynamic would play out
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benicebefunny · 2 years
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I regret that he’s fine his fans are just annoying
I have similar feelings. I don't really see what the fuss is about. And it's always a little annoying when the fanon version of a character (greatest journalist alive! super smart! saved Ted!) eclipses the canon version--particularly when the fanon valorization comes at the expense of my fave being further vilified. (Leaking Ted's panic attack was a group project; Nathan and Trent both failed.)
Although, of course, any character's fans can be annoying. Like, there's this one guy (I think her name's Bernice Berfunny) who's always going on about Nathan Shelley. Every time I turn around, there she is. It's like give it a rest, buddy.
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marzipanandminutiae · 2 years
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(also Help My Den of Angels Username Has “Suiseiseki” In It Because I Made The Account When I Was 14 And I’m Still Actively Collecting BJDs But No Longer Into Rozen Maiden To That Extent, And I Can’t Change It)
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chaoticfandomthot · 10 months
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Hey guys remember when i wrote that author's note saying my next work would be the office AU and it was a big multi chaptered one and currently in the works?
So it's still in the works and still happening BUT I have had this new shiny idea and the skeleton of a first draft is already done..
So a fic is still coming! but surprise🎉 i have once again been consumed by the wip tornado
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kasagia · 3 months
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Right Hand - Epilogue
Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: Your future with your baron. Your dream future. Your long-won future. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; It's very hard for me to end this one… Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART VI ~•♤♤♤•~
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"Count Rabban." You nod when you pass Feyd's brother on your way to the throne room. To your surprise, the man stops and bows to you, which makes you frown at his extraordinary and strange behaviour.
"Lady Y/N. My congratulations." The man says, stunning you for a while. Your heartbeat accelerates when you wonder how the hell he could tell that you are pregnant.
"Um... thank you." You answer uncertainly and look at Feyd. He tightens up at his brother's words; you can see that he is clearly furious at his brother's comment. What the fuck was going on here?
"You should go, brother. We still have a lot of rats to hunt down." Fed says this and puts his hand at the bottom of your back, pushing you towards the throne room, as if he wanted to walk away from Rabban as soon as possible.
"Of course. I'm surprised you won't join me, but if I were you, I'd keep an eye on my woman too. After all, pregnancy is a real blessing for us.” You froze at his words. You look stunned at Feyd, who seems to be getting more and more… nervous. You frown, confused by everything that is happening around you. Since when in hell have these two been civil towards each other?
"Obviously. Just go." Feyd hastens him and practically pushes you into the throne room. He shuts the door behind you with a loud bang, not allowing any servants or guards to follow you.
He doesn't give you a second glance. He goes straight to the Arrakis projection and starts explaining to you the recent actions he took while you were... unconscious. However, you can't focus on what he's saying; your thoughts are still revolving around what Rabban said, so at some point during his long speech, you simply interrupt him and blurt out:
"Pregnancy? Who the hell is pregnant?"
There is a long silence in the room after your question. You think this is the first time you've seen Feyd-Rautha… embarrassed. And as much as it's a new and strange sight, you want to know what the hell is going on. So you walk up to him and grab his chin tightly, forcing him to look you in the eyes.
"I could have mentioned that you were with my heir to mobilise our troops to march to the desert and stop the great families from... complaining about me searching for you instead of focusing on killing Muad'Dib." You blink a few times, staring at him in shock when you hear this.
Your hand falls between you, letting go of his chin, which you can tell he's mildly happy about. You frown, trying to imagine him telling all the great houses that you were pregnant with his child.
Which actually isn't far from the truth now…
"I… Why the fuck am I not even surprised? Anything else besides this fake pregnancy?" You ask, shifting your gaze from him to the map of the desert, where the points of stationing units, the movement of soldiers, observed points, and recently conquered objects were marked.
"I couldn't say that you were just my concubine. They wouldn't take me seriously..." He starts, eyeing you carefully, having no idea what you were going to do. Just in case, he puts his hand on his belt, ready to activate his shield at any moment. Although he doubted anything could actually protect him from your anger.
"What the hell did you tell them?" You ask, annoyed, turning to face him. He takes a step back, pretending to move something on the map, but really wanting to be as far away from you as possible when he gives you this message.
"That you are my fiancée." He repeats calmly, taking your exasperated sigh and rubbing of your temple as a good sign. At least you're not attacking him with a blade. Wouldn't the idea of marrying him be as... repulsive to you as it used to be?
"You announced to the great families that I am your fiancée AND that we are going to have a child? And they believed you?"
"Yes, why not?" He asks, furrowing his hairless eyebrows at your surprise, slightly offended that you thought it was such impossible thing to happen.
"Because the very idea of you proposing to me is ridiculous and unrealistic." Your eyes widen as you see him move to kneel in front of you. You grab his elbow tightly, not letting him move even an inch, as you shut down his attempt to propose to you. "Do NOT do this now. How could you? And behind my back..."
"I can ask you the same question. Why did you literally stab me with a blade and leave me bleeding on the ship so you could play 'How to Destroy the Atreides House', risking your life, and worse, without me? I should punish you for that, little witch."
You stare at each other defiantly, each insisting that the other is wrong and carries more fault. However, the more you think about it, the more you come to the conclusion that maybe he was right. You both did shitty things. And it is possible that you will make even more of them in the future.
"Call it even?" You finally ask, deciding to let it go this time. After all, you had smaller things to worry about. Arrakis. Emperor. Irulan. Maybe he will finally tell you what happened during your... not necessarily voluntary absence.
"Only this time." He nods, cupping your cheek in his hand. He seals your deal with a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and joining yours in a mad dance as Feyd steals the air from your lungs.
You moan into his mouth, cradling his cheeks in your hands and bringing his face closer to yours as his hands rest on your hips. He manoeuvres you across the room, making you both approach the large throne. You break your kiss as he pushes you onto the stone seat.
"So... what's now?" You ask, placing your hands on his shoulders as he leans on the armrests of the throne, leaning over you.
"Now... I'm going to lock you here, and I am not going to let you go out until we create this heir of ours." He mumbles against your neck, placing feathery kisses there. You sigh softly, running your nails over his bald head.
"Of all the possible excuses, you had to come up with this one?" You ask, trying to maintain what little control you have as the pads of his cold fingers lazily stroke your collarbones. He squeezes your breast, earning a small gasp from you, and he chuckles contentedly, biting into your neck. He reluctantly pulls away from your neck and rests his forehead against yours, taking a moment to look into your eyes.
"I wish you could have seen their faces." He whispers hoarsely, making you shiver, and kisses you again. His plump lips take their time caressing yours as he enjoys the kiss, finally having all the time in the world to bask in your warmth, scent, and taste.
You smile into the kiss, distracted by his proximity. It seems unreal that the two of you can just enjoy each other without worrying about other things, without any urgent matters to attend to, enemies to kill, or evil plans to carry out. It was weird. Pleasantly weird. But you had been under the pressure of something for too long to just enjoy this peaceful, blissful moment without trying to find an excuse to stop him.
So when his hand goes under your skirt and lazily caresses your thigh, you place your hands on his chest and gently push him away from you. You look at him for a moment as he furrows his hairless eyebrows, trying to understand why you're doing this.
"Me too. But as much as I want to fool around with you, I think that we should focus on diplomacy and policy for a while. It wouldn't be in Giedi Prime's interest to create heirs before we establish government, and... can you stop undressing me?" You ask as his fingers begin to untie the bodice of your dress, realising that you were only pushing him away for the sake of politics and to solve Giedi Prime's issue first, which he obviously didn't want to do now.
"I have been covering the policy for the past few weeks. Now, I have more important things to worry about. Like how to untie those damn strings with one hand."
"But... the council..." You try, sighing as his mouth attacks your neck again as he loosens the ties of your dress, exposing your breasts to him.
"They will wait." He mumbles as he moves from your neck to your collarbones, his fingers teasing your nipples. You sigh, biting your bottom lip as he explores every little bit of your skin. "I have a little fantasy that I want to fulfill with you, little witch…" He purrs against your breasts. You hold your breath as he suddenly grips your hips tightly and lifts you up. He sits down on the throne and settles you on his lap, completely removing your dress and throwing it behind him. He licks his lips, staring at your naked form, and you blush under his watchful gaze. Bastard…
"But… oh, Feyd…" You moan as he leans towards you and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. You dig your nails into his shoulders. Sitting astride him and stabilising herself on his lap. His other hand slides from your chest down your stomach to your core as he teases your overstimulated pussy. He chuckles against your breast, only intensifying your sensations as he discovers how wet you already are for him.
"Yes… that's right, my right hand. Allow me to repay you for your faithful service to your new Baron." You kiss him hard, passionately, tugging at his clothes and stripping him off of them roughly, wanting to feel his abalaster, muscled chest as quickly as possible.
He doesn't do anything to help you. He just teases you, getting you so aroused and excited that you can't even dream of interrupting him again. Instead, you take and take everything it has to offer you. And it's a pleasantly blissful change.
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"Marry me." He whispers in your ear when you lie wrapped in sheets in his bedroom after a fairly intense session.
You sigh and roll your eyes at him. He had been trying to convince you to marry him for a week, and as pleasant as the idea seemed, you were well aware that it wasn't that easy. He couldn't just choose a wife, and moreover, a woman without a family name or fortune.
"You know it's not that easy. I have neither titles nor a significant family name. I am only your right hand. The Council will never support this idea." You sigh, snuggling into him. He huffs, offended by your response, but wraps his arms around you anyway and holds you tightly to his chest. As if to at least make sure that you wouldn't be able to leave him even though you didn't agree to marry him.
"Have I ever asked anyone for their opinion? Have I ever cared about the opinion of these old people?"
"No. But you should. You are a baron now. Marrying me would make you weaker in their eyes. Besides, being your concubine absolutely suits me." You speak even though you don't know who you're trying to fool. Yourself, him, or both of you.
However, you don't take into account that he knows you perfectly. He grabs your chin with two fingers and forces you to look into his icy blue eyes. You shiver as his piercing gaze reaches almost to your soul.
"It is not. I know it well. You never wanted to be just a concubine. That's why you didn't want to accept my courtship for a long time. I don't want you as my concubine; I want you as my wife. I need a strong baroness by my side—one that will be just as terrifying as me. You can't refuse me now. Not after what we went through to be here. I know you don't care about the opinions of anyone in our council, so tell me why you don't want to become my wife, little witch?"
You look at him for a long moment, wondering how much you can tell him from what you saw in your visions. He senses your hesitation and gently pushes you off of him and moves to get out of bed, but you stop him by wrapping your arms around him. You rest your chin on his shoulder and whisper into his ear.
"I … I had visions … visions in which our marriage ended terribly … and I don't want it to happen. Not after how long we fought for each other." You say that and press a kiss on his earlobe. You hug his back, ready for him to walk away from you in anger, but instead, he places his hand on yours and squeezes it tightly.
"Haven't you been the one who did not believe in the prophecies and fate? Who believed that we create our destiny ourselves?"
"Yes, but..."
"Then marry me." He interrupts you and turns to look at you. He cups your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look into his eyes. "I promise, I won't hurt you. Never. Not me. I promise to protect you against everything that will come and to be by your side for good and bad. I promise you all of myself and everything I am. I promise to go back to our bed and keep you in it even after the worst quarrel in the world, because I am nothing without you by my side, and I prefer to argue and fight you forever than not to have you with me. I... I just want you."
His words tug at your heart. You know he's not effusive, that he doesn't like talking about his feelings, and this is a very rare moment when he shows you his weaknesses. And you really appreciate it, but you can't help but have doubts.
"But what if..." He doesn't let you finish your sentence. He cuts you off with a kiss, caressing your lips with his, preventing you from making any protest.
He places his hands on your waist and holds you tightly close to him, ignoring your attempts to speak. He pushes you onto the bed and looms over you, still kissing you. Not until he's sure he's taken any air from your lungs.
You inhale quickly, flushed as he strokes the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone, drinking in the appearance of you beneath him: flushed, dishevelled with beautifully swollen lips.
"Marry me." He whispers, pressing a short kiss to your lips. "Marry me." He repeats against your cheek. "Marry me." Another feathery kiss, this time on your earlobe. You shiver as his hot whisper reaches your ear. "Marry me." A kiss on your neck. "Marry me." A kiss on your collarbone. "Marry me." A kiss in the valley of your breasts. "Marry me." A kiss on your stomach. "Marry me." A kiss on your pussy crying with need.
You sigh, scratching your nails against his scalp as he keeps whispering the words against your clit, working towards your orgasm as if you're going to say yes and accept his proposal the moment he takes you over the edge. At first, you find his attempts absurd, but with every second, every kiss, and every whispered request, you realise how much you want to just say yes and let him do whatever he wants with you.
You wrap your legs around him, digging your heels into his back and pulling him closer to you. His hand wraps around yours in a tight grip as his tongue works tirelessly to please you. You don't know how he keeps whispering his request, but you know when your eyes meet for a moment that you can't respond with anything other than...
"Yes."
You growl as he stops all his movements and lifts his head to look at you. You tighten your legs around him, willing him to move back into place, but he stays firmly above you.
"Feyd..." You complain, but he silences you with a quick kiss, so quick that you don't even get a good taste of yourself on his tongue.
"Later, impatient needy witch." He scolds you. In retaliation, you reach for his nipple and pinch it, making him growl. He squeezes your hips and leans in to leave a hickey on your neck.
"You made me this way." You complain, propping yourself up on your elbows and pressing your lips to his, stealing a kiss from him with a giggle. He pushes you back onto the bed, your head bobbing, and he smiles, showing you his black teeth.
"And I plan to do much more to you when you're my wife. So, will you marry me, little witch?"
"Why doesn't this sound like a question but a threat?" You ask, smirking, not yet giving him the answer he wants to hear. You can barely contain your chuckle, watching as he furrows his hairless eyebrows at you in irritation.
"I've been asking you for a week, it's your fault my tone changes from day to day when you keep me waiting."
"Don't you know that the best things are worth waiting for?"
"They are. And I've been waiting for you for years. So maybe you can finally end tihis? Can you do this for me, my right hand? Will you be my baroness?" He asks you, stroking your cheek, giving you his full attention as he waits for your response. But you just can't help yourself from teasing him a little bit more.
"Such a high promotion… people will think I slept with you to get it." You joke stupidly, enjoying your small victory, when he rolls his eyes at you in annoyance. You're lucky his daggers were abandoned halfway from the door to the bed... otherwise you would have ended up with a dagger at your throat long ago. Not that he would ever hurt you. Just to scare you a little.
"Y/N..." He growls at you and nuzzles your temple. You place your hand on his neck and pull him into a gentle kiss, lazily brushing your lips against his. A low murmur escapes his throat as he pulls you closer to him.
He's practically lying on top of you, keeping his body weight on his arms but letting you feel every inch of him against yours. You enjoy this newfound intimacy with him. This closeness, sense of security, love, deep adoration, and peace. So how can you say no to him when he prolongs every second of your kiss, tries to maintain contact with your body as long as possible, and treats you with a tenderness he has never shown to anyone before?
"Yes... yes, I will marry you." You whisper, smiling as you watch his reaction. He doesn't believe you at first, trying to make sure you're not joking with him again, and when he makes sure that you have no intention to take back your words, he leans in, crushing his lips against yours.
You smile throughout the kiss, even as he pinches your sides, his form of punishment for teasing him for so long. He bites your lip, just enough for him to taste your metallic blood on his tongue, sealing the deal between the two of you. You take his hint and bite his lip yourself, drawing blood from him.
"About damn time." He murmurs against your lips, letting you take a few breaths before trapping your lips in a needy kiss again.
Such a moment of bliss and tenderness between you is very much needed. Especially after recent events. However, you know that you won't be able to enjoy peace with him for long. But as long as you both had each other's backs, you could face the world. And soon you will have one more little human to protect.
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You stand in your blood-red wedding dress, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Baroness of Giedi Prime. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought you would come this far, especially not when you boarded a Harkonnen ship in fear to escape the Bene Gesserit and your destiny. The destinies you were meant to fulfil... just a little differently than the Reverend Mothers would have wanted.
"The essence of the bride hunt is that she runs away from her groom. She is not supposed to be waiting in their chamber for him. I didn't expect you to make it so easy for me to catch you. This isn't like you." Feyd grumbles, suddenly finding himself behind you. You sigh as he wraps his arms around you, pressing your back against his chest. You take his hand in yours and squeeze, resting your head on his shoulder. You can't help but smile as your black and gold wedding rings reflect in the mirror. "You've ruined my fun, wife. And I should consider leaving the veil outside our bedroom door as an insult and your lack of faith in my abilities to find you."
"I didn't feel like running away from you today. You could say you've had your fair share of bride hunting over the years I've been here." He chuckles against your neck, placing a few small kisses there.
"So clever. My baroness. My wife." He purrs, marking your neck, releasing one of his hands from your grip, and removing the ruby necklace from around your neck.
"I have a gift for you." You tell him before he starts stripping you out of your wedding dress. Black diamonds woven into your dress create beautiful, embroidered red flowers, and the sleeves and neckline of the dress are decorated with lace, of course, also in the colour of blood. You think Feyd sacrificed a few slaves on purpose to show the seamstresses... the perfect colour for your wedding dress.
As beautiful as the dress was, you'd also rather have it lying on the floor. However, you need to tell him something important before he starts your wedding night.
"You have? I did not expect it. I have nothing in return for you. I can always…"
"You will not bring me the heads of your concubines on a gold platter. We agreed that they would become my servants and that would remain so." You interrupt him before he can propose it to you again. You watch him take a breath before he speaks again. You place your finger on his lips, silencing him, knowing full well what he wanted to say. "I don't want anyone's head. It's enough for me that you hung Atreides' head like some kind of decorative horn in the throne room. By the way, we'll have to take it off when the Emperor's delegation arrives."
"Again, you're spoiling my fun, wife." He grumbles, offended, but doesn't let go of you from his embrace. He rests his chin on your shoulder and looks at the two of you in the mirror. He plays with the bandage on your hand and smiles, remembering how he pierced your joined hands with a dagger a few hours ago. You were his. His baroness. His woman. "What do you have for me?" He asks, nuzzling your temple before pressing a kiss to your earlobe.
Your eyes meet in the mirror as you take his hands in yours. You gently slide them down from your collarbones, over your chest, and into your belly. You press his hands so he can feel the tiny pregnancy bump through the fabric of your dress.
You watch his reaction carefully, biting your lip as you try not to smile at his shocked look. His fingers press further against your stomach, as if to make sure what he feels is real. He tenses when he realises it's true.
"You are… how long?"
"A few weeks."
"A few weeks?" He asks, both surprised and offended that you kept him in the dark for so long. You frown at him and turn to look at him properly and not through the mirror.
"I wanted to make sure she is okay and grows properly."
"She?" You frown when you hear the disappointed tone with which he receives this information. You feel the anger boiling inside you, all the joy and excitement leaving you as you realise this isn't what he expected. That he expected you to give him the Kwisatz Haderach first.
"Yes... is that a problem?" You ask him, furious. He realises what it might have sounded like to you. He sighs, looking away from you and focusing on the wall behind you. He clenches his fists and takes a few breaths, trying to calm down and not think about how you could ever accuse him of discriminating against your unborn child based on gender.
"NO. Not at all. I don't care about the sex, as long as it's healthy. I just... thought we were going to have a boy first." You shudder slightly, remembering what Atreides had shown you on Arrakis—the future that would await you at the hands of your own son. But it was different then.
You did everything to prevent your future from being like this: you confessed your love to Feyd first, you made sure that you showed him the same devotion as he showed to you, and you made sure that your firstborn would be a daughter. However, there was still a small seed of fear in you. After all, Feyd killed his mother, so how could you be sure that, ironically, your potential son wouldn't do the same?
"What's wrong?" Feyd asks, cupping your chin between his two fingers. You flinch, but you don't move away from him.
You place your hand on his, holding it in a tight grip as you steady your breathing, not even noticing that you had found yourself in such a state of panic. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, the beating of your heart, and the feeling of Feyd's hand in yours as you try to calm down.
"I… had… visions."
"Of course. Visions." He replies mockingly and removes his hand from your grip. He takes a few steps back, looking at you with reproach and bitterness in his blue eyes, which now resemble the ocean in a dangerous storm. "I thought that by defeating Atreides, we were done with visions, fate, destiny and especially with hiding important information from each other. But I guess I was wrong after all. Well, so do you. You can take the Bene Gesserit out of the order, but you can't take the order out of the Bene Gesserit."
"Feyd… it's not like that." You say this as you reach for him, but he pulls away from you before your fingertip can touch his skin. It hurts you that he thinks you have any connection to these witches, but you can't say you're surprised by his behaviour or that it's unreasonable. You just couldn't tell him what you saw without worrying about him getting paranoid.
"So what's it like?! You're not hiding anything from me? You don't make decisions completely by yourself? I understand that you want to be your own boss and make your own decisions, but you're my wife! What would you do if the roles were reversed? What if I hid from you what you hid from me?!"
"Feyd..." You try again, but this time he pulls away from you as if your touch would burn him. Before you can say anything, he storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him with such force that you're sure everyone in Giedi Prime heard it.
You sigh in defeat and lean your head against the wall. You hiss as the crown on your head prevents you from leaning back comfortably. You yank it out of your elaborately styled hairstyle and throw it across the room, not even flinching when the jewels shatter on the floor.
"Don't worry my sweethearts, everything will be fine. Dad's a little mad at me, but he's right. Even if he acts like an overgrown, spoiled little baby. I promise you that I will do everything to make us happy. All four of us." You whisper, wondering how the hell you're supposed to deal with your angry husband. This is not what your wedding night should be like. But was anything in the two of you's lives as it should have been?
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"I'm having a little déjà vu, aren't you?" You ask, leaning on the doorframe of his private training room as his 'toy' falls dead under the blow he received from the furious man which now is your husband.
You're reminded of how you found him here in a similar condition a few months ago. Only then were you just his right-hand man, and he showed no... visible signs of interest in you. And now you were his wife and pregnant. And thousands of other things happened along the way.
"Leave." He growls at you and plunges his blade into the dead man several times. You sigh, throwing the towel you brought for him to the nearest chair and pulling out your own dagger.
"Fight with me." You request, looking at him carefully. He stops in his process of punching holes in the dead man's body, changing it into a sieve, and he looks at you in shock.
"You are with child." He responds emotionlessly, going back to abusing the prisoner's body.
"And? I haven't been pregnant that long that I can't kick your ass." You can see that this comment irritates him by the way he plunges the dagger deeper into the man's flesh. He clenches his jaw tightly, trying his hardest not to snap at you. After all, you were pregnant. He had to be gentle with you.
"Get out of here, woman. I won't fight you in this condition." He replies firmly, turning his back to you and walking to the table to pour himself some water.
You take a closer look at the muscles in his back; his body is painted red with the blood of the people he killed in his rampage. You purse your lips, shaking your head.
You sneak up on him and press the blade to his throat as he drinks. His Adam's apple bobs at the feeling of your cold steel against his neck. He turns his head to give you an annoyed look, as if you were a cat that had scratched him with its claws.
"Y/N..." He mutters menacingly, clenching his hands into fists. You lean in, lips brushing his earlobe and biting it after you whisper back:
"Feyd."
The low growl is all the warning you get. He pushes you away from him and reaches for his blade. You block his attack, your steels colliding with each other in a distinctive clanging sound. He doesn't move to attack first, watching you carefully and blocking your every attack as you try to leave a small scratch on his skin. You're furious that he's holding himself back and that he's making sure his blade doesn't even touch your skin, which is exposed by your regular combat gear.
You growl as you manage to break through his defences and stab him in the shoulder. He screams in anger and finally starts attacking you. You gasp, blocking his blows every now and then, and for obvious reasons, he doesn't hit you from the waist down. You're starting to get tired, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins and your own pride won't let you stop your fight. Feyd notices it, though. And he decides to end it.
He drops his blade and grabs your arms tightly. He pushes you against the wall, pinning you against it with his body. You both breathe quickly, staring wordlessly into each other's eyes as you press the dagger to his neck. His black blood drips from his shoulder onto the floor, the only sound in the empty room apart from your ragged breaths.
"I love you. Don't ever doubt that." You whisper and lean forward, capturing his lips in a furious kiss. His fingers dig into your arms even more, surely leaving small bruises in the shape of his fingertips as he uses his body to block you from making any movement.
You moan, pressing the dagger harder against his throat as he bites your lower lip. Feyd growls, and with a quick, confident movement, he grabs the gun from your hand and throws it across the room, unknowingly hitting the dead man's body.
You moan as his hands land on your hips. He lifts you up, rubbing his length against your pussy and biting your chin. You growl, digging your nail into his neck and wrapping your legs around his hips, gasping as you become wetter with each of his light thrusts into your clothed core.
"If I knew that all I had to do to get you like this was to argue with you, I would have done it the moment you chose that disgusting cake for our wedding."
"The cake was delicious, it's not my fault you're such a picky pain in the ass." You mumble back and bite into his neck. He moans softly, grabbing your hair in a tight grip.
"I quite like being a pain in your ass." He says this and grabs your hips. You wrap your arms around him and hold on to him as he carries you through the halls of the Harkonnen stronghold. You hide your face in the crook of his neck, trying to ignore the curious glances from the servants and passersby who look away as soon as they meet Feyd's hostile gaze. "I wish I had the opportunity to get you out of that dress. You looked beautiful at our wedding."
"I won't wear that dress again just because you decided to do your monthly sulk today. It took the maids an hour to put me in it." You grumble as he opens the door to your chambers.
"Do not worry honey. I'll undress you. And I will dress you up. And I'll undress you again. I have all the time in the world, my wife."
"And here I thought you'd rather spend your time differently than dressing me like a doll. More… active and enjoyable." You giggle as he places you on the bed at your remark. His fingers wander under your black linen shirt as he unhurriedly undresses you.
"Do you doubt that I have the time, skill, and stamina for both?" He proves his point by leaving a few hickeys on your neck. You smirk, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer to you. You wonder since when he has so much power over you (and you over him) that it only takes a few hours for you to reconcile.
Either you've come a long and successful way in developing your relationship, or you're simply getting too old for constant drama and want to finally have a moment of peace. But you weren't complaining if every little fight you had would end with you acting like idiots in love with each other again at the end of the day.
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You sigh, drawing patterns on your husband's head. His arms tighten around you as you move, as if he's afraid you'll try to get away from him.
"As much as I like this, I must remind you that you have other responsibilities as a baron besides holding me."
"Possible. But holding my pregnant wife is my most important duty, to which I choose to devote myself completely today. Especially since you are getting closer to giving birth. The birth of twins, I would like to point out." He mumbles, pressing a kiss and rubbing his nose against your bump, and nuzzling into you.
"It's just childbirth, not a fight on Arrakis against the Fremen." You joke, rubbing his back. He purrs, snuggling even closer into you, making sure his arm wraps protectively around your belly.
"I'd be a lot more confident about your safety if you went to fight those rats instead."
"Said the man cuddled up to his pregnant wife." You try to ease his concern just a little. But you know your husband very well. Enough to know that he's stubborn as hell to give in so easily and forget about his fears.
"Does it bother you that I'm forming a bond with my unborn heirs?"
"No. Not at all."
"So let me continue, little witch, or I will silence you." You laugh, fully aware of his ways of shutting you up. He rolls his eyes at you, stands up, and kisses you, making you giggle even more. He breaks the kiss and presses his lips against your forehead before returning to his position as your protector.
"I'll be alright. We're okay. All three of us." You assure him and place your hand on his cheek, caressing it tenderly.
"I should punish you for hiding something so important from me again." He brings up the fact that… I missed telling him that yes, you are pregnant, but with twins. A girl, as you said, and a boy.
"That was months ago. Besides, there are many things I told you. Like my visions and everything. And I didn't get an award for it, so you can say we're even."
You defend yourself, and he just chuckles. A rare thing. But it seemed that with you and in the solitude of your shared quarters, (yes, he refused to have separate bedrooms. Something about how he had waited too long for you to spend even a night without you in his bed now anyway.) he did it a lot more often.
"You're way too smart, little witch. If you didn't love me, you would dethrone me in a week."
"Maybe even less." You banter with him with a smirk. You squeal as he tickles you, feigning outrage at your insult. You grab his hand in a tight grip and stop him.
You both freeze when your stomach suddenly bulges in one place. Feyd looks worriedly from you to your belly and hesitantly reaches up with one finger to stroke the small bulge. It disappears as quickly as he touches it. You giggle, realising that one of the kids must have stuck out its leg.
"I will teach them to fight. Both of them. They will be great leaders. One will get Arrakis and Lankiveil and the other will get Giedi Prime. They will support each other and fight for each other. They will get everything."
"Everything we didn't have."
"Yes." Feyd says thoughtfully, examining your belly. He presses his mouth there and cups your belly with his hands. You giggle when you suddenly get kicked by one of the twins, and you pull him towards you to hug you again.
"To be honest, I expected the first thing you would do was make them fight the snakes to prove their strength."
"I'm not my uncle."
"I know." You say and press a kiss to the top of his head. "You're… so much more. Someone much better than anyone ever wanted or thought you were. Never doubt it."
He nods and hugs you tighter. You sigh, happy with how close he is to you and the way he holds you. You could assure him that everything was fine, but the truth was that you were afraid of what the future would bring. If you were wrong... no. You couldn't think like that. You had Feyd by your side. And that was all that really mattered.
"We should name the girl Katerina."
"Katerina? Why?" You ask, turning your gaze towards him and frowning. The last thing you would expect him to do was to think about names for your children.
"I have a good feeling." He replies with a shrug and pulls you closer to him. You know him too well not to know he's up to something. However, you decide not to ask him about it. After all, each of you deserves to have your little secrets. Something you both learned to respect.
"Well, since you've already named the girl, I want to name the boy." He smiles and kisses the corner of your mouth at your request.
"And what do you want to name our son?"
"Feydor."
"Feydor? Why?"
"I have a good feeling." You answer him the same way. He rolls his eyes, but he doesn't ask you anything either. He hugs you tighter and presses his lips against your forehead. It's nice to have him so close to me and feel almost... normal.
Even if your normal was completely different from what was generally perceived as one.
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"Your son got lost in the halls of Giedi Prime, the guards and harpies barely found him." Feyd grumbles as he enters the war room. You look up from the papers and watch as your husband slumps onto the sofa with a glass in his hand.
"My son?"
"Our son." He corrects himself, knowing full well better than to raise your ire with such a simple mistake.
"Are you blaming me? Need I remind you because of who Katerina almost killed the heir of Caladan last week because she was bragging about her fighting skills by actually fighting that boy in the arena?" You reproach him. He rolls his eyes and puts his half-full glass on the table next to him, not protesting or arguing with you. "I thought so. So don't blame me for teaching our son my tricks when you teach yours to our daughter."
"I can't believe how easily you turned me into an obedient husband." He complains, standing up and walking over to you. He rests his chin on your head and looks over the conquest plans you've made, glancing at the reports from the front that Rabban sent you.
"It wasn't that difficult at all." You banter with him and cup his chin. You kiss him, enjoying the softness of his lips. He cups your cheek in his hand and deepens it, moaning into your mouth.
You stop when you hear giggling coming from the secret corridor leading to the room. You raise an eyebrow and listen, realising that it's your twins trying to sneak up on you two.
"These kids are going to kill us both."
"We won't give up without a fight, my Baron." You whisper, standing up silently, making no sound as you two establish a 'plan of attack' on your children.
"Oh we certainly won't, my Baroness." He agrees with you with a smile. You answer him with your own, your teeth as black as his.
A moment later, the laughter of your two children echoes throughout the Harkonnen stronghold as you go on a little chase through the secret corridors.
The dagger that Feyd gave you hangs as a decoration in the war room. The steel is old but in good condition, although it is chipped in several places. Or rather, melted under the influence of the blood and wounds you inflicted. You never decided to repair it. It was a reminder of what you went through. All the way from being Feyd's right hand to the Baroness. His wife. The mothers of your two children.
Any visions of the future you had were good. Maybe not perfect, but what would your life be without a little bit of struggle? You and Feyd have proven that you can overcome any obstacle, enemy, or anything that could tear you apart. You were above fate and destiny.
And you will fight for your family with everything you have. Against every Bene Gesserit and everyone who wanted to hurt you or separate you. Being Feyd's right hand has prepared you perfectly for this.
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So, this is the end. It feels strange to part with this story (it's the first time I feel this way). At first it was supposed to be just a oneshot, but thanks to your comments and involvement in the story, this miniseries was created. Thank you all for every comment, heart and all the love for this story. Thank you!!!!! (And I hope you will stay longer, for another mini-series with Feyd. ;D) Thank you so much again!! 😊🥰🩵🩵🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🩵🩵 ~ Kasagia
Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @harkonnin @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896 @oneandonlybbygrl @noirecatt @iloved1lfs0 @mamawiggers1980 @lololfixu @barnes70stark @obsessedvibee @aaaaaamond @workof-a-rr-t  @oneandonlybbygrl @alexa4040 @lowlyloved @toertchen @em-100 @caintheking @justarandomflowerchildofthenight @hrtifyeren @psychoffin @avidreader73
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drdemonprince · 11 days
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Early in Geller’s career, she developed a Community Outreach Partnership Program for ED patients who hadn’t responded to, or weren’t interested in, traditional methods (cognitive behavioral therapy; keeping a food diary; aiming for three meals and two snacks a day). These patients had been landing in the emergency department with heart problems or blood abnormalities—mainly from typically presenting AN [anorexia nervosa]. Her first patient was Linda*, a woman with AN known as a “revolving-door” admission; she ended up there about once a month, year after year. “She was really upset and unhappy with the care system,” Geller said, “because she did not want a full recovery.”  Each time Linda was admitted, she’d be pushed to gain more weight than she was comfortable with. So rather than recovery, Geller focused on meeting her where she was at. Linda loved to ride her bike. She loved to ski. She was a runner. A huge proportion of her joy, and her identity, came from doing these activities and being good at them.  “It was only after she heard me reflect that I understood the importance of those things in her life that she was willing to talk about how hard it was when, after a giant ride, she couldn’t get out of bed,” Geller said. “And how much she disliked having to come into hospital.” They developed a harm reduction plan with a shared goal: Linda being able to eat restrictively, and still ski and bike, without ending up in the hospital. “And she never came back to hospital,” Geller said. “She actually never returned to what would be considered a ‘normal’ weight, but she continued doing the things that she liked, and she was able to work, and she was able to have many of the things in her life that she wished for. And it wasn’t using a full-recovery model.” Linda was in her 40s at the time.
There's some triggering stuff in here obviously (weight talk, food talk, ED talk, acknowledgement of some people with EDs not wanting to gain weight and lots of physicians' flawed understandings of both ED and weight), so please be advised and expect that, but this was a great read! traditional ED recovery plans move way too fucking fast for some people to ever be comfortable with, are entirely too focused on raw numbers, have a ton of fatphobic assumptions deeply buried within them, and ignore the fact that for a huge subset of ED patients (such as neurodivergent people), eating frequently and refeeding symptoms can be so physically unpleasant as to be undesirable, and being denied ANY opportunity to burn off anxiety via exercise can be a no-go. A harm reductionist, flexible approach to EDs that focuses on what the person with the ED wants and needs is a far better way to go than the abstinence model.
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puffcap-factory · 6 months
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Late Night Tea-Time (Wriothesley x reader)
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Wriothesley x fem!reader; fluff, established relationship, a teeny-weeny hint of smut. Just the hint, not the real smut.
Basically, it’s you staying up late at night working (and waiting for him) only to see him arriving with another new package of tea collections.
Words: 1.1k
Notes:
Finally! My first genshin fic featuring the spicy Duke of Meropide himself, Wriothesley! It’s kinda short but I’d like to get this one out first as I was thinking of making a short series for him too (no promises, though, I’ll see how it goes hehe)
As always, please enjoy! :D
•~•~•~•
Piles of papers were spread on Wriothesley’s office desk as you carefully analyzed the data regarding the fortress’ logistics, seated on Wriothesley’s chair. The sounds of the piano from the record player filled the air as you took another sip of your tea, hoping it would help you regain the focus that had been faltering.
Suddenly, the creak of the door opening in the room below caught your attention. Wriothesley entered and ascended the stairs, carrying a new box of tea collections in his hands.
“You’re still working on the files? It’s already 11 pm,” he asked, finding you seated on his office chair. 
“Says someone who just returned from a business meeting. And with a fresh stash of tea,” you replied, a playful glint in your eye as you glanced at the box he carried.
It seemed everyone was beginning to catch on to the Duke’s fondness for tea, as most of the gifts he received always seemed to revolve around tea drinking, much to your amusement.
He chuckled softly at your response as he placed the newest tea set onto the tea cabinet, arranging it carefully.
“You won’t be sleeping if you keep drinking your tea, though.”
“It’s Rooibos, don’t worry,” you reassured him, watching as he made his way towards you.
“It’s late, y/n, I want you to rest,” he said softly, standing beside the chair. With a gentle pat on your shoulders, he lowered himself to your seat, planting a tender kiss on your temple. 
“Come now,” he urged gently, carefully removing the documents from your hand and placing them on the table. He offered you his hand, allowing you to stand up from his seat, and led you over to the nearby sofa. You gladly followed him.
He brought your tea cup over and placed it on the low table in front of you before returning to the tea counter. There, he found the pot of tea, still hot from the heater below, the one that you had been drinking from.
“I’ve made that for us. Feel free to pour yourself,” you offered from your seat.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he replied with a warm smile. He poured his own cup of tea before making his way to sit next to you.
After taking a sip of the tea, seemingly content with the brewing, he opened his arm, inviting you to come closer. You understood his gesture and happily nestled into his embrace, feeling his warmth as his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close.
“I’m not quite sleepy yet,” you admitted softly, looking up at him. He chuckled softly, his eyes filled with fondness towards you.
“Why’s that? You’ve been working on the data since this morning as far as I can remember.”
“I have, but all I’ve done today is sit behind the desk and work on the papers,” you explained.
“And you’re not tired from that?”
“I am– well, my mind is. And throughout the day, you were away, too.”
“So, you’re saying you’re just missing me so much that you can’t sleep?” he teased with a playful chuckle.
“Hey, you’ve been helping me spar in these past few weeks. Those physical activities actually helped me sleep, you know,” you countered with a pout.
“Physical activities, huh?” His eyes danced mischievously, a playful grin appearing on his lips.
“But… I don’t think I have the energy to spar right now. My mind is not in the capacity to devise a strategy to defeat you,” you said lazily, snuggling up closer to him. 
“You were actually thinking to spar right here, right now, at my office,” he gently laughed, his hand running soothingly through your hair.
“Well, why not? It’s not like we’re gonna blow this whole place up,” you replied with a playful grin, glancing over at your almost empty tea cup. You stood up and made way to the tea counter to take the tea pot. Wriothesley watched you with amusement from his seat, his eyes gleaming with a mix of mischief and... something else.
Switching off the tea pot’s heater, you prepared to return to the sofa with the pot when the new tea set in the nearby cabinet caught your eye. Curiously, you opened the cabinet and examined it.
“You know,” you mused, holding the box in your hand, “I find it rather amusing that somehow, tea and you are never far from each other.”
He watched you with an amused smile, a spark of curiosity in his eyes as he leaned forwards. “And what do you mean by that?” 
“I feel like the scent of tea itself is starting to rub off on your scent. Imagine people catching a whiff of tea and turning to find the Duke of Meropide himself,” you continued, a small laugh escaping you at the image. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you started to taste like one.”
There was a sudden pause in the moment before he answered. “Taste like one… huh?” he stated, his tone lowering as he stood up from the sofa and made his way to you. You suddenly felt his arm, slowly wrapping you from behind, one arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close, while the other rested gently on your shoulder. The atmosphere had shifted, a subtle tension building as you realized the implication of your words. 
“Perhaps, you should find out for yourself,” he whispered in your ear, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. His warm breath trickled against your ear and down to your neck as he nuzzled softly, hinting at the desire simmering beneath the surface. 
Feeling the heat of his body against yours, you set down the box of tea, fully aware of his unspoken invitation. You leaned back into his embrace, a playful spark igniting within you as you decided to tease him a bit further.
“And how would you suggest I do that?” you turned your head, meeting his gaze with a mischievous smirk, your lips mere inches from his.
For a moment, his eyes held yours, tender yet filled with hunger that started to cloud his gaze. “Well, considering your lack of physical activities today, I have a perfect idea to satisfy your curiosity as well as help you sleep.”
You caught the glint of lust in his eyes and understood exactly what was coming.
“Oh? Then what are you waiting for?”
With a smirk, he effortlessly scooped you up into a bridal carry, his arms strong and sure beneath you. Without a word, he carried you towards his bedroom, the tension between you still palpable. The aroma of tea lingered in the air as you two left the office, leaving the tea to grow cold.
That night, you slept more soundly than you had in weeks, wrapped in the warmth of his love, the taste of tea still lingering on your lips.
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verxca · 26 days
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IMAGINE 06 ⟡
➤ hashira as your s/o
includes ; sanemi, kyojuro, giyu ⋆ ˚。
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⟡ sanemi treats you, and only you, with an unseen kindness. you’re like a holy grail to the man— he couldn’t even imagine laying a finger upon you. though the others don’t believe it at first when you assure them how kind of a person the hashira really is, you soon take pride in the fact he’s comfortable enough around you to show his nature.
- you’re an angel, hun’
⟡ he isn’t huuuge on pet names ( would never call you one in front of the others, though in private, he’s a different man ) or words of affirmation in general. you usually spend your time with sanemi in a comfortable silence, wether that be cuddling in bed together, cooking, or doing mundane tasks by his side.
⟡ he hates arguing with you, even if they’re bound to come up every now and then. sanemi can’t help but get emotional at how patient you are with him afterwards, even during the fights themselves. it takes him awhile to apologize, though it’s always worth it in the end. once, you two headed to bed after a heated argument, and he still just couldn’t resist from pulling you closer.
- are you not mad anymore, sanemi…?
- just keep quiet’ so we can sleep.
⟡ sanmei really cherishes any time spent with you, but for dates specifically, he prefers staying in more secluded areas. though he won’t admit it— due to his jealousy, he truly just wants you all to himself, non the less during such an intimate activity. for example, he adores taking you out on picnics for lunch or dinner. you two pick a new spot every time, and enjoy a nice meal together.
⟡ he loves loves taking baths with you after his training, either back at the estate or your own. he’ll hold you against his chest in the water, lathering your neck with kisses. sanemi’s fingers work magic at scrubbing your hair, and he often offers to give you massages on your back, feet, etc.
- fuck, you’re perfect…
- yeah? feel nice?
⟡ literally anytime he speaks about you, even if it’s just casually dropping your name in a conversation, a noticeable blush appears on sanemi’s face. sometimes he even gets fixated on the moment for a second too long.
- yeah, i was out with {name} yesterday-
- i was cooking her dinner, when he shows up… and… uhm, yeah, yeah, he showed up at the door-
⟡ in all, he’s a great lover. anyone with two eyes could tell how much he truly cares about you. sanemi’s also very keen on protecting you, and would risk his life to save yours in the bat of an eye. but then again, he takes pride in his strength, and the fact that he has the tools necessary to keep you safe.
- i’d die for you, babe, seriously.
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⟡ despite the vibrant nature of kyojuro, he is extremely patient and tender towards you. he’s just so respectful, it drives you mad in the best possible way. and in his eyes, you are just so perfect— any person would be rude to not treat you with regard.
- you’re so strong, you need to give yourself more confidence, {name}!
- she’s just so perfect, isn’t she?
⟡ his love langues most definitely revolve around physical touch and words of affirmation. kyojuro feels almost guilty if he sees you and doesn’t have the chance to throw at least some sort of compliment in your general direction.
- you look lovely today, {name}!
- your hair is stunning! is that a new pin?
⟡ he’s just so fun to be around! half of the time for dates, it’s just you two hanging out with each-other. that could hence mean watching the sunrise, eating a meal, or braiding each-other’s hair. trust me, it never gets boring.
⟡ yet, he also has such a sweet and collected side to him that he often shows you. laying in bed, holding hands, he’s still in awe at love as a whole.
- i love you, {name}, so much.
⟡ i feel like the whole fandom can agree that this man is your personal heater— i’ve seen it so many times, you can’t convince me that he wouldn’t be a fucking god at spooning you. during the more chilly seasons, half your days are spent cuddled up together. he loves listening to your heartbeat, running his hands down your skin, perplexed every second of the day by your beauty.
⟡ sometimes kyojuro doesn’t realize how flustered he can make you— during training when he’s all sweaty, out in public when he squeezes your hand tightly, etc. it took him awhile to realize practically just how much power he held, pridefully enjoying teasing you even more.
- you seem awfully flustered, honey?
⟡ kyojuro is simply put a walking green flag. he’ll go out of his way to make sure life is easier for you in general, and is still truly bewildered at how gorgeous you are, and at how you in return make him feel so loved.
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⟡ it definitely took giyu awhile to warm up around you, though after finally opening up about his past— you could see him through a different lense. it was like a weight had been lifted off from his shoulders, and the world wasn’t as black and white around you. the hashira became way more comfortable— felt more at ease by your side.
- why are you so kind to me?
⟡ giyu loves having gentle conversations. he adores getting to learn more about you, watching you speak, listening to your voice, etc. and, when you hear him out in return, his heart breaks at the simple kindness.
- no, no, go on, i’m listening.
⟡ honestly, doesn’t have a preference for dates at all! he could have a calm, quiet night with you, soaking in the hotspring. he could take you to a nearby lake, where you’d admire the shimmering water. or, of course, you could visit a restaurant together, soaking up the busy atmosphere.
⟡ giyu loves buying you random trinkets. it can range from a beautiful bracelet, to a small antique plate he picked up— all to further prove his love through gentle reminders.
- here, i found it near that village yesterday. the flowers reminded me of you, i had to grab it.
- it looks beautiful on you.
⟡ giyu loves staying close in general. after missions— he’s hugging and cuddling you like you’re his last drop of water in a sanded desert. in bed— big spoon or not, he simply needs to feel that intimate contact. it doesn’t fail to make the both of you feel safe and comforted every time.
- you’re so warm, {name}…
⟡ again, with the contact, giyu oddly loves when you tend to his wounds. the way you wrap the bandages around his knuckles is so tender, he can’t express it. ( once, he burned himself while cooking lunch on accident while nearby just so you could bandage it )
- you’re too sweet, love… thank you.
⟡ in general, giyu appreciates you more than he ever thought he would. he finds your gentless very attractive, and you did really intern help him open up— help him love again. he could go on for hours just admiring your form, listening to you speak— your voice alone soothes him to sleep often times.
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teatroll · 9 months
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+18 NSFW content ahead; MDNI
NANAMI KENTO SPICY HEADCANONS
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Includes: fem!reader; inappropriate usage of showers and inaccurate depiction of shower shreks (water ain't lube, hons); unprotected piv; praising; + a bit more add-ons (headcanons, duh)
Note: should've been less detailed but i messed up halfway and it looks like a fic if you squint (oops?). anywho, thank my bestie, she buzzed off my ears 'bout this man and made this happen. (also not betaread) @cafekitsune and @saradika - banners ♡
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♡ Nanami Kento is a busy man. So his world precisely revolves around his job as a sorcerer. So does his free time. Whenever he gets home, he's too exhausted to indulge into anything but sleep.
♡ Although, he's not opposed to taking a hot steamy shower or a relaxing bath with you. It's only logical - practical AND pleasant. Two birds, one stone. Quick and easy quality time.
♡ That's what he hoped for before he found his mind wandering places when your hands started massaging shampoo into his scalp.
♡ Steam fogging up the glass shower doors; hot streams washing off soapy foam down your naked form; your glistening eyes searching for his and that tender smile that he cherishes so much...
♡ Yeah, his mind was in the gutter straight away and refused to crawl out from that pit. And he knows that's on him, because it's been way too long since the last time both of you spent some actual quality time together. Better fix this now than never, right?
♡ His touches are slow and gentle as his hands start to roam free, fingertips caressing your skin with utmost care. Nanami's heart flutters as you softly sigh close to his ear.
♡ That gives him the confidence to take it up a notch and glide his hands down to cup your rear; your sweet mewls shortly turning into whimpers as you crook your head to the side, giving him access to leave teasing nibbles on your neck.
♡ It's not long before you feel his hardened length between your thighs as he deliberately rocks his hips into yours.
♡ The sound you made afterwards made him softly hiss through gritted teeth.
♡ Normally he'd choose a different (read as more secure, because he's intolerant to bullshit) place, but with the way you cling to him now, he decides to indulge into such a messy activity as shower sex. After all, he's got places to be tomorrow, so he needs to wake up early. Two birds, one stone yet again.
(This man is practical and rational from the top of his head down to his toenails, what did you expect?)
♡ You gasp when his cock starts to slide back and forth between your thighs, teasing your clit. Your pussy clenches over nothing as you let out a needy whine into his shoulder.
♡ "Shh, baby. It's okay." His voice is a bit raspy as he coos in your ear, caressing your sides. "Let me take care of you."
♡ Another gasp escapes from you as he scoops you into his arms and lifts you up by your hips. Your legs instinctively wrapping around him, so do your arms to support your weight on him.
(But, frankly, that much is not needed. Nanami can lift you up with a single hand and still be able to sip his morning coffee with a straight face.)
♡ With his tip now pushing past your entrance, he lets out a shaky breath; his eyes flutter shut for a brief moment. The sight is divine, least to say; and you'd gladly enjoy it all day long but the way his cock slowly stretches your velvety walls makes your vision blurry.
♡ You squirm and pant into the crook of his neck as his grip on you tightens ever so slightly while he slides all the way in.
♡ There's a pause as he lets you adjust to the feeling, whispering so sweetly in your ear it almost melts your brain into mush.
♡ That man will be giving you a praise kink of the century, there's ZERO debate here. And a simple "good girl" won't cut it either.
♡ He'll shower you in praises for how well you're taking him, for how delightful your moans are, for how cute the blush spreads across your cheeks and neck. Basically, anything his senses pick up on, he'll put on a pedestal.
♡ His thrusts are slow, deep, and so fucking sensual it almost feels like a torture. Of pleasure, obviously. Doesn't dismiss the fact you crave more and make it know as you pull him into the kiss by the back of his neck.
♡ He catches your moans with his lips, savors them like candy. It heats up every nerve in his body, makes his muscles tense as he picks up the pace.
♡ How can he not provide his sweet girl with what she truly wants? Denying you of anything feels so wrong that he can't help but indulge into it all over again.
(Is it a flock of birds, one giant rock now? Probably is.)
♡ He's definitely panting. Maybe even whimpers a bit, but the sound is muffled by your lips on his and hushed by the shower, so you can't really be sure.
♡ What you can be sure of, though, is that familiar knot forming in your core. And that feeling gradually increases with each grind of his. There's quite a bit more force to it now, so that previous tenderness is replaced by pure passion.
♡ There's no escaping a headcanon of Nanami guiding you through your orgasm. Because he definitely does so.
♡ "That's it, just a little more. You can do this, baby." AND "You're so precious. Let me hear those pretty sounds, come on."
♡ SPEAKING OF WHICH, definitely tries to maintain eye contact as you finish.
♡ He wants to feel as your walls clench around him, wants to hear you gasp a choked moan, he craves to watch you crumble on his cock.
♡ That sets him off more than anything as he follows you shortly after, spilling inside you with an ecstatic grunt.
♡ Normally, he'd pull out for sure. But since you're already in the shower, why not to indulge into yet another shower session? But this time, it's your turn to be on the receiving end.
♡ After a short cock warming session as you both try to catch your breath.
(And who knows, maybe this time he'll be able to contain himself and actually just do a simple mundane activity and not waste water for half an hour.)
(Fingers crossed, but the bill will be enormous either way.)
♡ Nanami would definitely kiss your jaw/line of pulse lazily and nibble on your neck.
♡ Praising is obviously a part of aftercare as well, how can he set that aside??
♡ Would leave a gentle peck on the sweet spot just below your ear.
"Now, now, darling. Let's get you cleaned up, shall we?"
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♡ EXTRA ♡
♡ Missionary is his "to go to", because that way he can witness every little change in your expression.
♡ He's leaning closer to vanilla tbh.
♡ BUT, if he's frustrated, there will be a quickie on his desk.
♡ Dead ass will ruin you. Your hips will be sore for a week.
(Everything will be sore since we're at it.)
♡ Not to mention there WILL be hair pulling. (I see you, horny people. I know what you want.)
♡ Aftercare now involves him doing everything in his power to soothe you.
♡ Will definitely think you're sobbing because he hurt you, when, on the contrary, that was pure bliss.
♡ Remind that man of it, he tends to forget that vanilla isn't the only thing that exists.
♡ High chance he adores watching you please yourself. Both with fingers and toys.
♡ Hey, he knows you'd rather feel full on his cock, but he's not opposed to teasing.
♡ He might be pure vanilla (hello cookie run lmao), but even so, Nanami can add some spice to your shared love life once in a while.
♡ Especially when it involves giving you the best of times. (Yes, with teasing too.)
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♡ SUKUNA RYOMEN ♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO ♡
733 notes · View notes
xenonarrow · 1 month
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At last, my piece for the Moon Knight fanzine Lunar Labyrinth (@moon-knight-zine) from last year! This is the first time I work with a zine project and it was definitely a delight.
I had fun with the symbolism on this piece, more info under the crack:
Prompt/Subject: My place in this zine was part of the artists for the 4th chapters, Waxing Gibbous: Order. The prompt was changed and revised through the process, ultimately revolving around the concept of being reborn, rebuilding, discovering each other's strengths and ultimately the chapter's namesake order. I played with the concept of rebuilding a literal set of mirrors as a visual metaphor.
General setting: I chose to feature the MCU version of the character(s) with some elements from the comics since the time of the planning was very close to its release on D+. The scene is set inside one's house as I often use them with the symbolic value of one's personality and emotional state. I chose Steven's apartment from the MCU for two main reasons: 1) It's shown at the end after the events of the series, implying they still use it as home 2) The layout of the set is well documented and also nice and cosy. I used a combination of pictures from the behind the scenes and artbook + a rough scene I put up in Blender as reference for the subjects' placement, perspective and palette
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Character(s) There is only one (physical) character in scene that I called "the body" since it's placed in a way so the face is not visible. This is deliberate so to not give away any clue about which alter is fronting - he can be any of them, all or none at the same time - it's just the body. The physical appearance. The medium with which the psyche interacts with the rest of the physical world. The body's clothes were a tough choice but I ended up with Steven's pyjamas since it was what they wearing at the end of the series. Steven, Marc and Jake are represented in the mirror with their Duat sequence clothes (except for Jake's attire for his only on-screen appearance + comics version fake moustache because honestly he feels naked without them) and in a pose reflecting as much as their individual vibe and role as I could in a single image: Steven and Jake are helping the body putting the mirror pieces back together in two different ways, one in a more concerned / affectionate manner and the other is slightly more blunt and direct. Marc is covering his face, as hiding away is kinda fitting for his character on different occasions (hiding memories in an attempt to protect Steven, Hiding parts of himself and his life to his loved ones, running away from his problems etc). Being dramatic as usual.
Mirrors I love using mirrors as visual metaphors. And I love how they used them in the series. I am very normal about it. In this piece the mirrors function as a reflection of the inner self (or selves, in this case): the same body is reflected in three different mirrors (the alters) which are more or less fractured based on the status of their relationship with a specific alter and themselves: Jake has the most pieces missing, since in the series he's the most elusive one to the point of the others not being aware of his existence up until the end despite still being active in protecting them in times of need. The background of the mirrors reflects the pattern of the (head)space as seen in some parts of the Moon Knight (2016) comics while the colours are chosen and assigned based on the box colours used in Moon Knight (2021). The pattern is not following the perspective of the shards on the floor because it's not a physical space the mirror is reflecting but it's more of a "door" to another dimension, the psychological one. The back of the mirrors has a hieroglyphic inscription vaguely inspired by those seen during the first costume sequence at the end of ep 1 (will be back at this later)
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The moon dart (that shiny thing stuck in the rightmost mirror): The moon dart symbolises their connection and service under Khonshu. It was thrown diagonally hitting all three mirrors (and causing the fractures in them) and it got stuck in Jake's, symbolising his status as the one in the system still under the god's leash. The dart has also a side, positive connotation: despite the havoc that being Khonshu's avatar has brought, it also started to bring them together and work as a team.
Hieroglyphs: There is a thematic back-and-forth in this segment of the mirror, as the empty sections symbolises a loss of self in favour of being an Egyptian deity's puppet (hence the hieroglyphic inscriptions, vaguely resembling the pyramid texts where a certain hymn features an earlier and more violent version of the god Khonsu being a slayer for the king), but in the same inscriptions (see the second picture) carry a hopeful message: "There is no son who is strong against his father, but you are strong and mighty while Ma'at (personification of order, balance, harmony) dwells on your arms and your Ba (plural) will last forever, repeating rejuvenation like the Moon". I used "father" referencing the comics where Khonshu leans heavier into posing as a fatherly figure as a manipulation tactic, so the sentence can be interpreted as escaping from Khonshu's leash and finding strength and balance among themselves. It also echoes the usage of the moon dart.
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Easter eggs: There are two easter eggs in here. Three Ba birds with the alters' faces can be seen over Steven's mirror, it's a little signature detail since a previous drawing with them apparently became iconic in my corner of MK fandom? They are also mentioned in the hieroglyphic text. There's a tiny Dracula hiding under the carpet layer. We can't see you in the finished piece, but we know you're here you big fucking nerd
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WHEW that was a lot. Thank you for reading this far!
Here are some other progress pics if you fancy:
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rottenpumpkin13 · 6 months
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Out Of Context Things Director Lazard Has Seen On The SOLDIER Floor
• Sephiroth carrying an unconscious, bloody-nosed Genesis in a fireman's carry out of the men's room. When asked, his only response was "Don't worry, he's not dead yet."
• Angeal crawling out of a cupboard in the break room with a neck pillow.
• Zack carrying around an iceberg lettuce, a bottle of ranch and taking bites out of it like a sandwich.
• Genesis rolling around in an office chair using a broomstick as a makeshift paddle.
• Sephiroth and his salad bowl filled with Udon. This has been seen a total of 8 different times.
• Angeal giving Genesis a piggyback ride, Sephiroth giving Zack a piggyback ride, they're having a race.
• Zack hanging up a poster that reads "HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GUY? NOW YOU HAVE :)" and it's just a picture of Cloud Strife.
• Genesis and Angeal stuck on opposite sides of a chinese finger trap while Sephiroth loses his shit, on the floor laughing.
• The following dialogue:
Angeal: Genesis, sit up straight.
Sephiroth: Let him sit gay.
• He walked by Sephiroth's office and he was in there, working at his desk, with 6 glow stick necklaces around his neck.
• Angeal dragging Zack and Cloud by their ears while the pair goes "ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow"
• Genesis sitting in the break room, swirling a glass of wine and completing a coloring book.
• Zack dropping down from an air vent with a super soaker strapped to his back.
• Sephiroth walking around with sunglasses at 9 PM.
• The elevator door opened to Sephiroth, Genesis and Angeal standing there while Genesis' sentence ended with "—and that's why we should adopt a capybara."
• Angeal approaching a sleeping Genesis with a permanent marker.
• Sephiroth casually laying in a hammock he set up in the training facility while the 2nds run drills on their own. When asked if he's ashamed of himself, he replied "I'm ashamed I didn't think of this sooner"
• Genesis pursuing Zack with a megaphone, quoting LOVELESS at the top of his lungs while Zack covers his ears.
• Angeal having a fight with a revolving door and losing.
• Cloud Strife in his infantry uniform, sitting in Sephiroth's office reading a magazine, lemonade in hand, 2 PM on a Tuesday. When asked he said he was answering the phone while Sephiroth was out. The phone was actively ringing during this and he was ignoring it.
• Sephiroth, Genesis, Angeal, Zack and Cloud all piled onto a luggage cart, using their legs to maneuver it. Zack is standing up going "HEAVE—HEAVE—HEAVE"
• He's seen either Sephiroth and Genesis minding their own business when all of a sudden the other attacks them.
• Angeal sitting in a cardboard box eating a sandwich. The box says "THE CALM DOWN BOX"
• Sephiroth boiling pasta in the electric kettle in the break room.
• Zack sitting in the Calm Down Box™ with his face literally looking like ">:(" while Angeal stands over him with an electric fly swatter.
• He heard Genesis's loud singing echoing from the men's room, followed by Angeal's quiet "we can't even pee in peace anymore"
• Sephiroth and Genesis sitting in the Calm Down Box™ arguing over the correct pronunciation of "data"
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unholyhelbig · 2 months
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any chance for a kate x reader angst?
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Title: Firecrest (Part 1/???)
Ship: Female!Reader x Kate Bishop
Wordcount: 4075
Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.
Warnings: Mentions of sexual activities, fire, mentions of childhood abandonment, horrible grammar (I don't proofread lol), and things I'm sure I'm forgetting.
[A/n: how about enemies to lovers angst? How about Enemies to lovers with a little fake dating sprinkled in there? Let me know if this is something you all would like to see continued!]
Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests
Your mother had the in-depth beauty of a street dog. Her features were angular, yet soft and welcoming. People were often tempted to reach and run their fingers through her fur. But she tended to gently correct. She had the perfect demeanor for a government spy. However, you had always known her as a brilliant biochemist. Alluring in her brilliance.
The soft lights of the city shaded her face in the back of the taxi. The air had warmed significantly, but the low hum of the air conditioner made you pull your suit jacket close to your breast. The maroon had felt like too much at first. But the impressed nod from the woman next to you was enough to ebb away any doubts.
Your mother popped open her compact and swiped her finger against the corner of her mouth, taking away the smudged gloss that wasn’t noticeable in comparison to her presence. There was not much you feared in this world, but her wrath. Her annoyance. Her disappointment. None of which she flashed often.
“Remember what we talked about, y/n.”
“Of course. Would you like me to repeat it?”
She snapped the compact and leveled you with amusement. Her eyebrow lifted, the start of a smile at the corner of her lip. She couldn’t be serious. You made eye contact with the taxi driver in the mirror. He showed the same amusement that your mother did, yet somehow, hers stung more.
A groan escaped you, but bled into the mantra that was drilled into you for the past two weeks. “I will be the perfect lady who is grateful for the success of Lance and his political circuit.”
“And?”
“I will not start anything I can’t finish with Katherine Elizabeth Bishop, And I’m an adult perfectly capable of handling myself.”
“That wasn’t part of it.” Your mother corrected softly. Her hands were suddenly on you, smoothing down the lapel of your suit. “But It’ll do. Mostly, because we’re here.”
Eleanor Bishop often held her galas in the historic buildings of downtown Manhattan. There were small pamphlets lingering by the extensive hand-carved doors. They’d detail the rich family that had built it from the ground up. The architecture was always admittedly beautiful, and Eleanor had a subtle, expensive taste.
This venue was no different; stretching hallways and men in suits that mirrored yours in a tasteful black. Your mother never stepped ahead of you, instead holding a hand out and helping you from the back of the taxi. You’d left a generous tip, careful not to shove your hands into your pockets.
“This used to be a museum for fine arts and culture. The last I heard; the city was going to tear it down but made it a historical site. They use it for banquets now, I suppose.”
“Oh? You’ve read the informational booklet, then?”
She jabbed her elbow into your ribs and mocked a scowl. “No. I robbed it. How do you think we paid for your college tuition, kiddo?”
That was an exaggeration. You were 90% sure- maybe 75%. Bobbi Morse was a force to be reckoned with, and that was something you had learned from a young age. She’d let you sit on the counter of her lab while she worked, and you’d watch her with absolute awe.
Your mother had taught you, without fail, a variety of fighting skills. Starting with Aikido and ending with Taekwondo. She was a master at her craft, both in the field and in her lab and had worked with you since you could walk to train you in the same.
“Mm,” You hummed your response, “Which priceless painting did you take?”
“It was a vase, smart-ass.”
You pulled in a breath to retort before effectively being rendered silent by the performance hall. Eleanor Bishop had gone all out for the benefits that she backed. This was a vast space that was adorned in white sheer and glittering lights. A slideshow of the sponsored bird sanctuary flashed on the televisions scattered throughout the space.
There was a band on the stage, string instruments that you could feel in the center of your chest. The low notes shuddered through you as you took in the crowd. There were few that you actually recognized, usually hazed in expensive alcohol and lingering by the food, or some form of fresh air.
“It’s ironic that it’s about birds, right?”
She leveled you with an unimpressed look and squeezed your shoulder fondly. It didn’t take long for Lance to make his way over to the both of you. His eyes lit up and a smile spread across his freshly-shaved face. He gave you a small wave, gently exiting the conversation he was having with a congressman, a millionaire, or an architect that was just the right amount of desperate.
Lance Hunter had stolen your mothers heart when you were ten years old. You always assumed it was the accent, but the more you got to know him, the more you understood his charms. Lance had never forced things with you, had never claimed to be your father.
There were quiet moments when he’d join you on the wrap-around porch of your family home and just sit. The two of you would watch the way the sun dipped behind the horizon, sipping on syrupy cans of soft drink. Eventually, you talked to him, and he listened with diligence.
“My girls,” he said, placing a chaste kiss against your forehead before sidling up next to Bobbi. They had effortlessly matched in a deep and royal blue that contrasted the ignited red of your own suit. You were the perfect epitome of a political family.
Eleanor Bishop had given you a brief nod of the head, signifying your presence. It was a silent warning told through blackened eyes: Behave.
Her diligent attention was enough to split your family up. You preferred to linger away from the stuffy socialites. Bobbi and Lance were required to mingle. You plucked a flute of bubbling champagne from a passing tray and moved towards one of the elegant support beams decorated with what you now learned, was real foliage.
The floral scent tickled the back of your throat, so you took a generous swallow and let the alcohol warm your stomach diligently. There had to be something interesting around here, away from the rest of the party. A plague or two that would further explain the venue.
A burst of forced laughter greeted your parents as they sidled up next to Jack and Eleanor. Lance had produced some campaign buttons, which the group took without hesitation. You had to admit, he was loveable and politician-worthy.
“Look at us, we match.”
You swallowed back a groan, not bothering to look over. A small noise still escaped you, and the grumble conveyed your exact disposition towards Kate Bishop. Disgust. Annoyance. The slightest bit of attraction. She overwhelmed your senses with her crisp, winter scent.
Eventually, curiosity got the better of you and you glanced over at her. She was in red too, incredibly vibrant against her soft expanses of exposed skin. The dress had a dipping neckline, revealing the freckles that created constellations against her collarbone. She beamed with irritation. You’d never admit that she was captivating.
“I thought you were given explicit instructions to leave me be.” You said between gritted teeth.
She hummed and grasped the drink from your hand. Kate was calculated in her movements, wrapping her lips around the smudge of lipstick that you’d already created on the rim of the glass. She didn’t break eye contact, those slate orbs boring into you.
“We both know you’re the most interesting thing at these parties.”
“I’m not falling for your… charms, Kate Bishop. Your mother may have bought you out of our consequences last time. But, I have more at stake.”
She scoffed and set the now empty glass down on the nearest table. You knew damn well that Kate wasn’t absolved of accountability after your run-in a few months back. She held herself differently now, and it was a minute expression of her posture that caught your attention.
There was a small split at the corner of her lip, and a healing bruise just at her hairline. She’d attempted to use makeup to cover the abrasions, but you had a trained eye. You were your mother’s daughter. These were defensive wounds. And for just a moment, you worried that the Bishop’s had a heavier hand than you’d anticipated.
But then, Kate’s muscles flexed and her head lilted to the side, dark curls splaying over her shoulders. She had grown stronger. It wasn’t noticeable, or at least, it shouldn’t’ have been. But you knew every inch of her body and despite your forced separation, she’d grown steady of herself.
“Why should I be punished, when you’re the one who set the curtains ablaze.”
You leaned close enough to feel her body heat. To her credit, she didn’t step back. A ghost of a smirk was on her lips. You snarled your words. “And who’s fault was that?”
“I don’t see how I was supposed to know you’d get trigger happy with your powers when I went down on you.” She gave you a cocky pout. “Is that a new thing, or have you never been able to handle yourself in moments of pleasure?”
You couldn’t stop yourself from grasping at the strap on her dress, pulling her closer to you out of a burst of anger. The phantom look of confidence spread into a full-blown grin. You were exasperated, the familiar heat burning just under your skin.
It was true, you’d lost control for just a moment, with Kate Bishops head between your legs, one hand buried deep in her mess of tangled hair. As an orgasm washed over you, thighs shaking, your other hand had drifted too close to the drapes and had caught them ablaze.
Despite the both of you being adults, you were separated within an instant. Dragged embarrassingly away by your respective parental units after the fire was put out. The last you’d seen of her was reflected with the flashing red lights of a rumbling fire engine.
Kate had a devilish look in her eyes. “Harder, baby.”
“Ladies,”
It was a resolute sound that had you pulling apart as if she was a toxic entity. In your book, she was. Both hands landed in your pockets and the two of you looked sheepishly at Eleanor. She’d been keeping an eye on you, you were sure. And had made a direct line to you the second Kate had given you that salacious look.
“Good evening, Mrs. Bishop. It’s a pleasure to see you.”
Kate coughed out something that sounded like ‘Kiss ass’ and covered it up with a doe-eyed look of innocence. She may not have been afraid of her mother, but you were terrified. Bobbi had a soft hand. It commanded you like a weapon, and you were happy to do what you were told.
Your own punishment had consisted of heavier training. Both mentally and physically to perfect control that you’d had mastered years ago when you were nothing but a girl with streaks of tears dripping from your chin. The fire had been too strong then, overwhelming and horrible.
“Good evening, Miss Morse, I trust you’ve found a way to entertain yourself during the benefit that isn’t antagonizing my daughter.” Before you could answer, she turned her attention to Kate. “And you. I specifically allowed you to bring a guest in attempts to keep you away from Bobbi’s little arsonist.”
She had been under the full impression that you’d taken a zippo to the hanging drapes. It was the white-hot flames that leaked from your own fingers that had done the damage. Kate was thankfully tight-lipped about the fact, and you let the socialite think whatever she wanted. She hadn’t pressed charges.
Kate pulled her shoulders back, almost looking offended at the name you were tagged with. Almost. “Clint got stopped at the front for an autograph, mom. I’m just biding my time.”
“Bide it somewhere else. We’ve talked about this.”
Eleanor gave you a tight-lipped smile that had noticeably softened compared to the venomous expression she held for Kate. A light squeeze was delivered to your arm. It had always scared you how quick she could switch like that. Her shoulders pulled back as she wandered back over to her group.
Lance lifted his chin in your direction. Silently asking if everything was okay, and it was. His quiet reassurance brought the heat licking at your stomach to a bubbling halt. Why you cared more about Eleanors disposition towards Kate, then her acidity directed at you, was beyond something you were willing to confront.
“Who’s Clint?”
“Why? Jealous?”
“Can we have a normal conversation, please. Is it so shocking that I’d take interest in your friends?”
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Yes. If you must know, he’s not a friend. He’s a mentor. He’s, my partner.”
Both of your eyebrows lifted. Partner in what? It wasn’t something you would audibly voice, save you show any concern past the normal amount that you usually had for Kate. The tautness of her muscles, and the superficial injuries made that discomfort return to the pit of your stomach.
Kate was an archer. You knew such from the trophies that littered her dresser the one time you’d been privy to her room. Truth be told, you hadn’t paid much attention. You were backed against her door and her teeth were scraping against your pulse point. But the little gold figures and the child-sized bow on the wall was enough to of a giveaway.
You only knew one archer, and you knew him distantly; from photos that your mother had blacked out with a sharpie. She’d later told you that she regretted the fact because the memories of the three of you would always remain.
The taste of bile filled your throat and Kate lilted her head to the side, like a golden retriever that had heard a piercing noise. There was a surprising amount of concern in her voice. “You okay? You’re looking a little green.”
“Hm? Yeah. Totally. The champagne is just sitting weird.”
A frown had found its way onto your face, and you directed your attention back to the crowd. It seemed that Eleanor was satisfied enough with the two of you lingering in silence. You were trained to know where the exits were in any venue. Kate’s stare shockingly darted in the same pattern as your own.
People had trickled in until the floor was bustling with conversation. You let your shoulders relax in the slightest bit, swallowing back the acrid taste in your mouth. Eleanor had lost her viewpoint of you and her daughter, and you weren’t much in the mood for fighting her on pure proximity.
“There you are, god, I didn’t know this many people cared about birds.”
This time, you couldn’t stop your narrowed eyes from flashing to the intrusion. Whatever distracted Kate was enough to be deemed a savior in your book. But the voice was familiar, painfully so. It was as if your body reacted by busting out in goosebumps, chills rushing down your spine.
Now, you wanted your mother to be able to see you. You were a strong, and capable adult that knew at least six different ways to kill a person without a weapon. You’d gone on missions with your mother, with your Aunt Daisy, too. A simple man in a simpler suit should not make your knees weak.
Yet- here he was. In a charcoal black ensemble with a pocket square that was a flash of purple. It was a color you’d grown to despise. It was an eyesore, as was the man that stood at a height taller than Kate, but just a few inches.
You’d found a singular picture of him that wasn’t defaced in your mother’s nightstand. A polaroid of the three of you on the beach. The sun had turned your cheeks a flushed pink. He had you in his arms and beamed at the camera. Eyes matching the blue of the ocean.
They were the same now, the same vibrancy that you’d thought about. He looked other, worn from parenthood and the effects of time. Of course, you’d seen him on television, but Bobbi had always been quick to flick it off, only lingering during the Sokovia accords.
His mouth fell open in disbelief, but you were careful to keep your jaw stock still. You weren’t going to give Clint Barton the satisfaction of rattling you. Not here, not if he ever decided to show up when you had a family of your own. Not on your deathbed. He couldn’t invoke that from you.
Kate had learned to pick up on body language, and she had learned fast. Her stare shifted between both you, and Clint. She had the right amount of perception to keep her mouth shut, even taking half an inch step back. She was in a position to hold the two of you apart, if need be.
“Holy shit,” He breathed out, “Sparky.”
“Don’t call me Sparky.”
You were taken aback by your own ability to produce words. They were pinched and had dropped down an octave to true anger. Not the type that Kate Bishop was used to. Sure, you had aggravation directed towards her, but nothing short of teasing.
Clint took a slight step towards you, and you took a large one back, nearly bumping into the support beam wrapped with vines and vibrant flowers. Your hand reached out to grab onto it for support, but Kate’s fingers wrapped gently around your wrist. Right. Yes. That would be the safe bet.
You needed to find Bobbi.
Chances were, Clint hadn’t seen her with the growing attendance. You could slip out through the large storm doors that were a few feet behind you. At least then, you could burn scorch marks into the grass and not into this historical building.
“What is happening?” Kate said, refusing to remove her hand from your wrist. You didn’t wrench it away, either. It was a force, a grounding factor. You refused to let the fire move past your fingertips in fear that it would burn her. “Clint?”
“She uh… She’s…”
The words died in his throat. You couldn’t’ stand looking at him, pale as ice and wringing his hands nervously. He couldn’t hold still, but you were like a stone. Almost as if he would vanish the second you averted your stare.
“I’m his daughter.”
Kate’s hand did move from your wrist and to your hand, almost out of instinct. Your relationship, or lack-there-of, had never required this kind of closeness. But She was hanging on tightly, nails digging into your skin. The slight sting brought you back.
Clint croaked “How’s your mother?”
Kate winced and you felt the spring in your spine loosen. He was more nervous than you were and that gave you an advantage. “You can ask her yourself. She and Lance are mingling.”
“Lance is here?”
“Of course.”
He was running for congressman. It would damage his campaign if he hadn’t shown up. The gossip blogs that followed the lives of New Yorks Elite had picked up on the rift between you and Kate. There were a few grainy photos of the two of you standing shoulder to shoulder, wrapped in foil blankets that made you look like Baked potatoes. There was soot on her chin, and you had wiped the darkness away with your thumb. Of course, that had been the moment they caught and wrote about, and plastered all over the internet.
Clint worked his jaw and cupped the back of his neck with a tepid smile. It wavered incessantly. He was boyish in his charm and that would always be the case, no matter how old he got. You knew he had a family now. A real family that didn’t’ consist of a secret agent and their match-happy daughter.
You gave Kate a squeeze with your free hand, signaling that you were fine. The last thing you wanted to appear was weak. She seemed to get the message loud and clear, wrenching her touch away with a nervous clearing of her throat.
“I’m sorry… Can we back up for a second?”  
Clint had a dejected look in his eyes that almost made you feel a twinge of guilt. Almost. Your own ego often got in the way of things, and this was one of them. There was a flood of emotions between both of the archers, a silent pleading to hear him out.
“You and Mrs. Morse dated?”
“They were married.” You snatched another glass of campaign, this one all for yourself. You swallowed the acrid drink and let the bubbles assault your throat. “When did the divorce finalize, again?
“Y/n”
“No, I was never really privy to the details myself.”
“We shouldn’t do this here.”
You finished off the rest of the drink, a certain amount of your defenses lower. You felt warm, but not warm enough to do something stupid. He was right. You shouldn’t do this here and if you had your way, you wouldn’t’ do it anywhere. You were perfectly content to let this man slip back into oblivion and train the Bishop heiress that you had a habit of bedding.
Clint seemed to let out a sigh of relief when you nodded in agreement. He scrutinized you both, the rush of initial shock ebbing away like a melting lake. Chunks of ice broke off and gave way to the familiarity and closeness the two of you held. It was relaxed, despite the rivalry that landed you here in the first place.
“No,” he drawled out, “No, no, no. Kate, you didn’t’.”
The tips of her ears were red enough to match your suit and the color that painted her own lips. She hid her face in her hands with a groan. But you wrapped your arm around her waist and pulled her against your side.
“Does that bother you, old man?”
It clearly did. Kate leveled you with a delicious glare that was unmatched but didn’t’ move from your hold. Was she letting you have this? You weren’t entirely sure. He was whipping his head back and fourth with enough force to break his own neck. It was making you dizzy, but giddy all the same.
Your moment of joy at his dismay was short lived. You caught the sharp scent of your mothers perfume. She’d cut through the crowd and furrowed her brow at your closeness to Kate. It took her a few moments to realize that Clint was here. To realize that he was the man that had spurred your act of rebellion in doing the exact opposite of what she’d requested at the start of the night.
Her cool eyes took him in just as yours had. Kate was still next to you, swallowing a dryness in her throat that you could nearly hear. Bobbi didn’t attempt to separate you as Eleanor had. Instead, she gave you a quiet stare. “Darling, I think it’s time we go. There’s a situation we have to attend to.”
“Of course. It’s been a pleasure.”
It hadn’t been, but you shocked yourself and Kate by leaning in and pressing a kiss just behind her ear, still blazing with blush. She froze but gave you the slightest bit of nod. Clint opened and closed his mouth like a surfaced fish, but kept quiet.
Your mother walked with a purpose, her shoulders pulled back and an elegance to her sway. You didn’t look back, keeping time with her as she weaved through the crowd and towards the lobby that was ten degrees cooler and much, much more welcoming.
“Is there actually a situation, or is this your attempt at a rescue?”
She ignored your question, stopping and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a soft look in her eyes that made your stomach squirm. “Are you okay, sweetie? I had no idea that he’d be here. I never would have made you come.”
“I’m fine, mom.” She didn’t seem convinced, so you added “Really.”
Eventually, Bobbi relented with a shaky sigh and cupped your cheek in a comforting manner. “Good. Okay. Good. Because we do have a situation.”
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heartfullofleeches · 9 months
Text
Yan Husband + G.N Monster Reader
A Slightly Fluffy/Slightly Suggestive Holiday Blurb
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What do you get someone who has everything?
"You're asking me what I want for Christmas? Why would I want anything else when I already have everything I need? A nice house, a loving spouse. I'd say I'm set for life- so why don't you tell me what you'd like this year, Sweetheart."
He's so difficult sometimes- Your dear husband had always made sure the holiday season was special for you. Even as a college student with little to his name, he wanted you to experience the same magic he witnessed as a child when his parents were forced to play the part of attentive caretakers. Presents, festive activities, decorating the house. As you've never had the pleasure of these traditions due to your origins your husband made it his duty to give you everything and more- well, except for one thing.
You wanted to be the one to go all out for him for once. To see the joy and happiness in his eyes when he unwraps the perfect present that you picked out yourself. You've tried asking him. You've tried watching him to learn more about the little things he enjoys, but it's all you. All he wants for Christmas is your life. He enjoys cooking and gardening because they're things that keep you happy and cared for.
His entire life revolved around you - and as such, the answer to your blight has been in your lap the entire time.
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Your husband arrives home an hour early. You expected him to get off a little early due to the holiday, but what you hadn't guessed was that he'd bring guests. Springing up from your sprawled out position on the couch, you rush to the front door - grabbing and hastily tossing on a coat as the choir of voices and the jostling of keys grows closer. Securing the belt strap around your waist and a scarf around your neck, you wait for the click out of outside lock and a knock on the frame before sliding back the bolt on your side of the door. Your husband lights up like a christmas tree seeing you standing there - the soft flush of his pale cheeks accented by the warm flow of the lights strung around your shared home.
Evan steps through the door, excitement dripping from his every move as he throws his arms at your waist. "You're already dressed. I meant to call you, but I left my phone back at the office."
Glancing over his shoulder, you hug your coat tighter to your chest - cold winds nawing at the thick layers of your flesh. "Evan...Who are they?"
Evan looks back at his colleagues. He told them to stay in their cars, but what goes in on ear goes right out the other. Are they scaring you? "A few friends from work. There's a party at the office I completely forgot about today and they followed me since I've already had a couple glasses. I thought it might be a good way for you to get to know some of them.
You shift uncomfortably under their gaze. "Evan, can I talk to you privately."
"Of course." Evan shuts the front door behind him without even addressing his coworkers. Your safety was more important. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing... I was just wondering if we should stay home tonight... I have a gift I wanted to give you early."
The worry drains from his face. "Oh, hun- you didn't have to go through all that trouble for me. I've told you before that you're the greatest gift I could ever ask for. We can open it when we get home.
"Are you sure you don't want a peak now?"
His brows scrunch up in confusion. Cupping your hand against his ear, you untie your belt - letting the loose fitting coat fall freely. Even at your height the coat was a little big on you as it had been commissioned by your sweet husband as a present a few years back. The flush of his cheeks reaches all the way to his ears as you whisper.
"You've always say I'm the best gift you have ever received."
Hands tear the coat further from your shoulders. Evan looks from your face, to the ribbons wrapped around your thighs and torso, laced across your body with a finished bow sitting center on your chest. It was fitted tastefully enough to cover your assets, but with tiny imperfections between the layers of ribbon and its transparency if he tilted his head just right-
Evan presses his palm to his mouth to mask the shaky breath he exhales.
"Well?"
"Excuse me for one moment."
Evan covers you back up with a kiss to your shoulder. You press your ear to the front door as he steps back outside.
"I'm really sorry, guys. My spouse came down with something while I was out. They're extremely sick right now. You might not even hear from us till the new years. Enjoy the party!"
As cautious as he is, you've never seen your husband neglect to lock the upper locks on the front door as he did when he returned to your side. Evan sweeps you off your feet with little effort thanks to all the training he'd done for that express reason. Hooking your arms around him as he carries you to bed - you plant wet kisses to the already scarred areas of his neck and cheek.
"Do you like your present?"
Evan kisses your jaw. "None can compare...... but maybe you should ask again once I get this ribbon off.
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cactus-cuddler · 3 months
Text
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝑺𝒑𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 // first part
Natasha Romanoff
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x female reader
Word count: 2,1k
Plot: you and Natasha are two spies who have worked together for many years. During these years, a particular chemistry has arisen between you that will make something emerge that you couldn't have foreseen
Genre: Romantic Erotica
Warnings: this story contains descriptions of sexual activity
Author's Notes: English is not my first first language so I apologize for any errors! Let me know what you think!
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You and Natasha are the most famous spy couple in the world. There isn't a mission you haven't completed, and your lives revolve around espionage. You don't consider yourselves friends, and you don't think you ever will be; you only refer to each other as 'colleagues'. Nothing more and nothing less, but between you, outside of your work, there is a strange and deadly chemistry.
In the facility where you work, each of you has an apartment with everything that is yours. There are no rigid timetables to follow; you have total freedom of movement. From the outside, the building that houses you looks like a very normal condominium, and it is. Most of the people who live there are spies, but there are also ordinary people and children. No one is allowed to know the identity of others except within couples, so you don't know who is a spy and who is not inside the building.
Your apartment is furnished according to how you always dreamed your home would be when you moved out on your own. It has a bedroom, a guest bedroom, and a connected kitchen and living room; however, they are separated by a curtain. You have a cat sleeping on the armchair, occupying the place where you usually like to read and watch movies, so you are forced to sit on the soft sofa that you typically reserve for your guests.
It's a beautiful day outside. You notice as you adjust the curtains on the window that you live on the top floor, so you enjoy a spectacular view of your town. The doorbell rings unexpectedly, and you're alarmed since you're not expecting any visitors. It could be anyone! You shout, 'I'm coming!' and then put on a cardigan with pockets hiding weapons, just in case it's an attack—unlikely, but never say never. You open the door carefully, and there stands a redhead with a friendly smile on the threshold. You stare at her for a few moments. She's wearing a simple T-shirt that says 'I 🌵 cactus' and gray sweatpants. You don't even understand the effect she has on you. Every time she looks at you outside of a mission, you become like a broken record that only makes one sound: the 'tumtum' of your heart. She has never been in your apartment in all the years you've been working together, which is why you're very surprised.
"Haven't they taught you how to welcome guests?" she asks you sarcastically, and you snap out of your trance. She sits inside your apartment and looks around as if lost. "You have good taste," she compliments, and you smile shyly.
"How can I help you?" you ask her but she’s lost in petting your cat. You clear your throat as you cross your arms to remind her that you're there.
"I just wanted to see you," she says, looking at you with her penetrating gaze. You didn't expect such an answer, and you were absolutely not ready to receive it because your heart starts beating hastily, leaving you breathless. "What a beautiful cat! What's his name?" she asks you, but it doesn't have one yet. You found him yesterday, cold and hungry, and you couldn't leave him there!
“He doesn't have one yet" you reply, trying not to tremble.
“What do you think of Dymka? It’s a Russian name” you like it so you nod in approval. You ask her if there is something she wants to eat and she asks you for a beer but you don't have it in your fridge. You have only water, tea and fruit juice.
"Your fridge looks like a baby’s" teases you with a sarcastic voice. Pretend nothing and serve her a glass of orange juice and pour one for yourself while Dymka sits on Natasha’s legs.
"I have a favor to ask you. I have a problem with the water pipes, and I remember that," she starts talking, and before finishing the sentence, she lowers her voice, "during an old mission we had the same problem and you were able to solve it," she concludes. For a second there, you really thought she was just there to see you, and you feel stupid.
"Of course!" you answer, hiding your disappointment. After finishing your drink, you go to her apartment. She lives downstairs, in apartment 52. Her house is rather messy; she has dirty clothes around, including bras, beer bottles, and empty canned food.
She apologizes for the mess, but it doesn’t bother you; on the contrary, you are pleased that she also lives alone and has no traces of any partners. She takes you to the kitchen, which, unlike the living room, is clean and immaculate. You open the door under the sink and, once you understand the reason for the leak, you get to work, asking Natasha to help you by passing the necessary tools.
"Where did you learn?" she asks curiously. You smile softly, and while you wash your hands, you tell her that when you were little, your father forced you every time to keep the light on while he had to solve small problems. Every time you watched him, you learned how to fix things without having to call a plumber or an electrician.
She invites you to eat with her that night, she feels indebted to you so she decides to offer you a pizza. You take it easy.
You're sitting at the kitchen table. She refuses to let you stay in a dirty place like her living room, so you're sitting next to each other on the table. There's a particular tension in the air between you. It's not discomfort, but something that makes your heart beat timidly and makes it seem like there's nothing else around you. She looks at her phone silently, and you try to find topics to talk about, but she interrupts you, "I saw a movie start like that," she says with a seductive voice. You blush and wait for her to continue, hoping she doesn’t mean what you understand.
"How?" you ask.
"With one person fixing something for someone, the other one doesn’t know how to pay and so..." She starts talking and leaves the phrase hanging, stroking your thigh from under the table. "Do you think I haven’t noticed how you look at me?" she asks you and inside you begin to feel an unusual warmth.
"How do I look at you?" you ask with a tremble in your voice, while her grip on your thigh gets stronger and stronger.
"Every time you look at me, your eyes always tell me 'fuck me,' and you don’t know how hard it is for me every time to hold back," she whispers in your ear. Your body is literally on fire. Between your legs, you feel something pulsating, something that begs to be stimulated. You swallow, feeling petrified. You don’t know what to do, how to react, or what is going to happen. Your mind is a mix of emotions and feelings that you haven’t experienced in a while, and you didn’t think it could be caused by a woman. But the woman next to you is not just any woman. She is Natasha Romanoff, the one who can render you speechless with just one look.
"Am I wrong?" she asks you, moving a lock of your hair behind your ear. You say no with your head. You know it’s something you want even though there’s something in your head that tells you you’d regret it and that’s wrong.
"Tell me you want it," she says, curling a lock of your hair to her finger.
"I want," you say in a gentle whisper, normally a phrase like that would have embarrassed you, but right now you feel imposing in front of her.
"What do you want?" she continues teasing you, moving her hand from thigh to more internally.
"I want you to fuck me" you whispers and she takes your chin and kisses you passionately. You eat each other’s lips and it seems to come from a primal feeling that was secretly hiding inside you. During the kiss she lifts you up and makes you sit on the table without taking her lips off of yours. She explores your body by pressing her hands on your buttocks in a possessive way. As if she were afraid that someone might catch you and take you away from her. She begins to undress you carefully and admire your body like a painting. She likes every inch of your body. She eagerly inhales the scent of your skin and kisses every inch of it.
"You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen," she says before kissing you again. An avid, passionate kiss that screams "again".
You’re in your underwear, it’s uncoordinated, which is why you’re embarrassed. But it’s not your fault, how could you have imagined that this would happen? She caresses your breasts from under the bra teasing your nipples that become turgid to her touch then she loses it and looks at you enchanted by your body. With both hands she touches your breasts, squeezes them in her palm. Then, as she continues to massage one, she takes the other’s nipple in her mouth. First sucking it and then biting it between your teeth, paying attention to give you just pleasure. In the meantime, small sighs of pleasure emerge from your lips. Your mind is clouded by the sweet but tantalizing scent of the woman beneath you and you can’t process any thoughts other than what you’re feeling. Between your legs you feel an unbearable and heartbreaking sensation. You want that she touches you there, you want she looks at you there, and you want she fills you with her fingers. You would never be able to compose such a perverse sentence so you start slowly massaging yourself from the fabric of your briefs while she continues her perverse play with your breasts.
She starts undressing too with your help between stolen kisses. Her body in your eyes is just perfect and her curves make you crazy. You are afraid to touch her because you fear to hurt her, you see her as a crystal vase: beautiful but equally delicate. While you are still sitting on top of the table she ducks and with her teeth tries to remove the only garment you have left, inhaling your smell and admiring how wet you are just for her.
"Is this for me?" she asks and you nod shyly. She take off your panties and gently caress you, giving you a little taste of what you’re about to do. She take out her tongue and look straight at your eyes and then you feel a warm and pleasant feeling in your intimacy. She leaves you a kiss on your clit before she starts sucking and from your lips you start to make small moans. You put your hands on her head pushing it more towards you and when she finds the rhythm that makes you crazy, you caress her hair and your moans become stronger. It leaves you dissatisfied and gets up to take possession of your lips and you feel the taste of her mouth mixed with that of your liquids, it's a taste that turns you on even more. Meanwhile Natasha with her fingers looking for your sweet opening that penetrates first with one finger and then with two.
"Nat, you’re driving me crazy," you say between groans and the other, and you move your pelvis over her fingers until you come on them. Natasha licks her fingers satisfied for her work while you continue to sigh for the pleasure you have felt.
You move into her bedroom, you don’t notice how it is furnished because you wouldn’t even have time to admire it. She puts you on top of the bed and puts herself on top of you with the knee placed in the middle of your legs to be able to tease you again in the middle and you kiss again. Then she turns by placing her buttocks on your face to put herself again where she caused the fireworks inside you and starts to penetrate you again with just one finger going deep causing you a pleasant feeling while you focus on her and her own pleasure.
You are interrupted by the doorbell and quickly disconnect as if you were at a crime scene and she lends you a t-shirt of her pajamas while she puts on the first things she finds to open the door. She return to the room with a face with an expression of disappointment and surprise and announces: "we have a new mission".
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Thanks for reading!
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝑺𝒑𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 // Second part
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