#whole spices price

[tiwarineha1]

Buy Whole Spices Online | Indian Organic Spices | Crista Spices

Shop organic whole spices online at best price. Indian whole spices are intermediaries free and adulteration free order now on Crista Spices.

[mantisgodsdomain]

Anyways very funny to see food allergy posting on our dash. We've recently learned there's a decent chance we're either sensitive or allergic to capsaicin, the thing that makes food spicy, which is very very funny to us specifically because we recently spent several weeks in Germany and spent the whole time halfway to starving to death because they didn't have anything Spicy and we are now discovering that apparently spice is "hostile to our body" and "not something we should be eating" despite it being a staple of our diet for most of our life

[jrpimpex99]

Unlocking the Aroma and Flavor: Premium Cumin Seeds Exported by JRP Impex 

Introduction: 

Embark on a journey of taste and aroma with JRP Impex, your trusted partner in exporting premium-quality cumin seeds from India. Our commitment to excellence and passion for quality ensures that every batch of cumin seeds we export is of the highest standard. Let's explore why JRP Impex stands out as the preferred choice for cumin seeds and how you can experience the best that India has to offer. 

The Significance of Cumin Seeds: 

Cumin seeds, scientifically known as Cuminum cyminum, are an integral part of Indian cuisine and have been used for centuries for their distinct flavor and aroma. They are widely cultivated in regions with a warm climate, including India, Iran, and the Mediterranean. Cumin seeds are renowned for their earthy, nutty flavor with a hint of citrus and are a staple spice in various dishes, including curries, soups, and stews. Apart from their culinary uses, cumin seeds also offer numerous health benefits, including aiding digestion, improving immunity, and promoting weight loss. 

Premium Quality Cumin Seeds: 

At JRP Impex, we take immense pride in offering premium-quality cumin seeds that embody the essence of excellence. Our commitment to quality begins right from the sourcing stage, where we meticulously select cumin seeds from the finest crops cultivated in the renowned cumin-growing regions of India. We work closely with trusted farmers who adhere to sustainable agricultural practices, ensuring that each seed is nurtured with care and attention to detail. 

Our cumin seeds undergo stringent quality control measures at every stage of the production process. From cleaning and sorting to packaging and distribution, we employ state-of-the-art technology and adhere to strict quality standards to preserve the freshness, flavor, and nutritional integrity of the seeds. Each batch of cumin seeds is thoroughly inspected by our team of experts to ensure that it meets our exacting standards for aroma, taste, and purity. 

What sets our cumin seeds apart is their unparalleled freshness and aroma. We take great care to preserve the natural oils and flavors of the seeds, ensuring that they retain their characteristic earthy, nutty aroma and robust flavor profile. Whether you're using our cumin seeds to add depth and complexity to your culinary creations or harnessing their medicinal properties for health and wellness, you can trust that you're getting the best of the best with JRP Impex. 

Moreover, our commitment to quality extends beyond just the product itself. We prioritize sustainability, ethical sourcing practices, and fair trade principles in everything we do. By choosing JRP Impex as your supplier of premium cumin seeds, you're not just investing in superior quality products; you're also supporting a company that values integrity, transparency, and social responsibility. 

Competitive Export Prices: 

At JRP Impex, we understand the importance of competitive pricing in today's dynamic market landscape. That's why we go above and beyond to offer export prices that not only meet but exceed the expectations of our valued customers. 

Our pricing strategy is rooted in a commitment to fairness, transparency, and value. We leverage our extensive network of suppliers, streamlined supply chain processes, and economies of scale to negotiate the best possible prices for our premium-quality cumin seeds. By optimizing our operations and eliminating unnecessary costs, we pass on the savings directly to our customers, ensuring that they receive maximum value for their investment. 

Moreover, we believe in transparency and honesty in all our dealings. Our pricing structure is clear, straightforward, and devoid of any hidden fees or surprises. What you see is what you get with JRP Impex – competitive export prices that are reflective of the superior quality of our products. 

But competitive pricing is not just about offering the lowest prices; it's also about delivering exceptional value. While we strive to remain cost-effective, we never compromise on the quality of our cumin seeds. Each seed is carefully selected, processed, and packaged to ensure that it meets our stringent quality standards. With JRP Impex, you can rest assured that you're getting premium-quality cumin seeds at a price that fits your budget. 

Furthermore, our commitment to competitive pricing extends beyond just the product itself. We understand that our customers have diverse needs and requirements, which is why we offer flexible pricing options and customizable solutions to accommodate their specific preferences. Whether you're a large-scale importer or a small-scale retailer, we have pricing packages that are tailored to suit your individual needs. 

Unmatched Export Quality: 

At JRP Impex, we pride ourselves on delivering cumin seeds of unmatched export quality to our valued clients across the globe. Our commitment to excellence permeates every aspect of our operations, ensuring that each seed that leaves our facility is a testament to our unwavering dedication to quality and integrity. 

Our journey to deliver unmatched export quality begins with the careful selection of the finest cumin seeds sourced from the heartland of India. We work closely with a network of trusted farmers and suppliers who share our commitment to sustainable agricultural practices and uncompromising quality standards. Through rigorous testing and evaluation, we ensure that only the highest-quality seeds make it into our inventory. 

But our commitment to quality doesn't end there. We employ state-of-the-art processing techniques and adhere to stringent quality control measures to preserve the freshness, flavor, and nutritional integrity of our cumin seeds throughout the export process. Each seed undergoes meticulous cleaning, sorting, and packaging to ensure that it meets our exacting standards for purity and consistency. 

What sets our cumin seeds apart is their unparalleled freshness, aroma, and flavor. We take great care to preserve the natural oils and essences of the seeds, ensuring that they retain their characteristic earthy, nutty aroma and robust flavor profile. Whether used as a seasoning in culinary dishes or as a medicinal herb in traditional remedies, our cumin seeds deliver an authentic taste and aroma that's second to none. 

Moreover, our commitment to unmatched export quality extends beyond just the product itself. We prioritize sustainability, ethical sourcing practices, and fair-trade principles in everything we do. By choosing JRP Impex as your supplier of premium cumin seeds, you're not just investing in superior quality products; you're also supporting a company that values integrity, transparency, and social responsibility. 

Reliable Exporter with Contact Information: 

At JRP Impex, we take great pride in being a reliable exporter of premium cumin seeds from India. Our dedication to professionalism, integrity, and customer satisfaction sets us apart as a trusted partner for buyers worldwide. We understand the importance of clear communication and accessibility, which is why we make it easy for our customers to reach out to us and stay connected throughout the export process. 

When you choose JRP Impex as your cumin seed exporter, you're choosing a company that values transparency and open communication. We believe in building strong relationships with our customers based on trust and reliability. That's why we provide multiple channels of contact, making it convenient for you to reach out to us whenever you need assistance or have questions. 

Whether you prefer to connect via phone, email, or our website, our dedicated team of experts is always available to assist you. Need information about our products, pricing, or shipping options? Simply pick up the phone and give us a call at +918155980009. Our friendly and knowledgeable staff will be happy to provide you with all the information you need and address any concerns you may have. 

In addition to direct communication, we also strive to keep our customers informed and engaged through regular updates and notifications. Sign up for our newsletter or follow us on social media to stay up-to-date with the latest news, product offerings, and promotions from JRP Impex. We believe that keeping the lines of communication open is essential for building strong, long-lasting relationships with our customers. 

But our commitment to reliability doesn't end with just providing contact information. We also prioritize prompt responses and timely assistance to ensure that your needs are met efficiently and effectively. Whether you're placing an order, tracking a shipment, or seeking advice, you can rely on JRP Impex to provide you with the support and guidance you need every step of the way. 

Trusted Supplier in Gujarat: 

JRP Impex takes pride in being recognized as a trusted supplier of premium cumin seeds in the vibrant state of Gujarat, India. With our strong network and extensive experience in the region, we have established ourselves as a reliable partner for businesses and individuals seeking high-quality cumin seeds that meet their exacting standards. 

Gujarat, renowned for its fertile soil and favorable climate, is a hub for cumin seed cultivation. At JRP Impex, we leverage our deep understanding of the local agricultural landscape to source the finest cumin seeds from trusted farmers and suppliers across the state. Our stringent quality control measures ensure that each seed meets our rigorous standards for freshness, purity, and flavor, guaranteeing an exceptional product that exceeds expectations. 

Whether you're a wholesaler, retailer, or food manufacturer in Gujarat, you can rely on JRP Impex to fulfill your cumin seed requirements with professionalism and integrity. Our dedicated team of experts is committed to providing personalized service and timely assistance to ensure a seamless and hassle-free experience. From placing orders to arranging delivery, we are here to support you every step of the way. 

Conclusion: 

In conclusion, JRP Impex stands as a beacon of excellence in the world of cumin seed exports from India. Our unwavering commitment to quality, transparency, and customer satisfaction sets us apart as the preferred choice for discerning buyers worldwide. 

Through our meticulous sourcing process, we ensure that only the finest cumin seeds, cultivated in the fertile soils of India, make their way to your kitchen. Each seed is a testament to our dedication to preserving the rich heritage and flavors of Indian cuisine. 

Our competitive export prices, coupled with our unmatched quality standards, make us the go-to exporter for businesses and individuals alike. Whether you're a wholesaler looking to stock your shelves or a chef seeking to elevate your culinary creations, JRP Impex is here to fulfill your needs with integrity and professionalism. 

Furthermore, our commitment to customer service knows no bounds. With our dedicated team always at your service, we strive to provide a seamless and hassle-free experience from inquiry to delivery. Your satisfaction is our top priority, and we go above and beyond to exceed your expectations at every turn. 

As you embark on your journey with JRP Impex, you're not just purchasing cumin seeds; you're investing in quality, authenticity, and trust. Join hands with us, and let the aroma and flavor of our premium cumin seeds enrich your culinary endeavors, one dish at a time. 

[spicelandwholesale]

Madagascar Bourbon Extract Vanilla Beans Grade-B

Vanilla is one of the most popular flavourings in the world. It is used in flavouring most desserts, including ice cream, custard, cake, candy, and pudding. Vanilla is also used to enhance the flavour of beverages and sauces. Vanilla is one of the whole spices in the world, primarily due to the extensive labour required to grow and process the Vanilla Pods. 

The multi-purpose vanilla bean results in tasty and delightful recipes. The rich- aromatic flavour of both Madagascar and Ugandan Grade -B Vanilla beans are the perfect amount to give a kick-off taste to your taste buds. We are offering the mature batch of freshly cultivate Extract Grade B Madagascar Bourbon Vanilla Beans.

[lvnfoods]

LVNFOODS- Dry Fruits, Masala, Spices, Herbal Powder

Genuine herbs are offered by LVN Foods in their purest forms. The way mother nature intended for our meals to be: Everything Natural. The purchase, wholesale distribution, import, and export of Ayurvedic natural herbs, herbal powders, seeds, spices, dried flowers, and dry fruits is the bulk of our company.

[miss-floral-thief]

Wait why is the chicken and waffle slightlu cheaper than the nuggets ver? Haha

[sanyuktiagrofoods]

Best masala of India | Sanyukti Agro Foods

From garam masala to chaat masala, there is a blend of spices that can be used to bring out intense flavours in any home-made meal. To make sure you get the best quality spices for your dishes, it is important to find a reliable source for Indian spice mixes, blends, and whole spices and you can get all of them under one roof – Sanyukti Agro Foods. With online stores offering good quality ground spices and blended spices, you can easily find everything you need to create delicious Indian dishes in your kitchen. Moreover, with pure spices available in bulk quantities, you can stock up on ingredients so that you are always ready to cook up an amazing Indian feast!

check out on – sanyuktifoods.com

[ace-with--a-mace]

these parents be living through their kids a lil too much

[tojisun]

sugar, spice, everything on ice (hockey au mlist) - smut; f!reader; short drabble only!

yea i bet youre all tired of hearing hockey come out of my mouth but thinking about—

hockey player simon receiving a text from you after a game.

they defeated their opponent in a shutout—price carrying the team on enemy ice, with garrick coming in with solid defences, allowing mactavish and simon to sink a shot after another.

it was an electrifying game; even now as he’s stuffed in his cubicle, simon feels like he’s on top of the world. like the cup is so close to his reach—just a few more rally and he’s bringing it home.

the locker room is buzzed, congratulations getting passed from one to another while their coach awards the disk to price for the shutout. the media is still taping this whole interaction so the team remains conscious, guarded, until, finally, everything is wrapped up.

the others clamber to the showers but simon digs for his phone, desperate to talk to you. to tell you that he’s won—he doesn’t know if you’ve watched the game, not with how packed your schedule’s gotten—so if you haven’t, he wishes to at least be the first to let you know.

he wants you to hear it from him; hear from him how they dominated tonight’s game.

(6-0 for the specgru. in the playoffs.)

but there’s already a message from you, sitting atop the strings of notification filling up his phone screen. he ignores the emails from brands reaching out for brand deals or fans sending in messages to his public socials, and taps on your name.

his eyes grow wide, his breath hitching, because—

> 2 goals tonight, baby. almost a hatty.

> have i told you how your hockey makes me hot? almost makes me want to fly there to give you a reward

the start of a whimper builds in the base of his throat, scratching at his trachea.

jesus.

the last time you’ve rewarded him for his performance—a hatty, one of which was an empty net goal—simon had to grit through the horror of seeing you have a difficulty in sitting down the next few days. until now, he swears that he tried holding back, to take it easy despite his needs, but then you crawled to his lap and sang praises in his ears, and simon was gone.

you were so needy for him. for his skate and his play and his victory. and how could simon control himself then?

so this—your messages that are lidded with a tease—is torture. the flight won’t even be until tomorrow morning so you’ve just left him extremely pent-up, buzzing, with his desires poorly-leashed.

all he could do is send a weak,

when i’m back, can you give it then? <

you’ve only liked his message as a reply and simon knows it for what it is—a deliberate hooking; filling him up with tension. with unbridled energy, all uncontainable, so he can fuck all of that into you.

shit. now he’s all hard underneath his cup.

the quick rub in the shower stalls was not enough so he races to their hotel, locking himself in his room and proceeds to fuck his fist as he swipes at the album he’s locked away in his gallery. it’s the gallery that only you and simon know about.

it’s full of pictures. of videos and audios.

it’s full of you fingering your sensitive pussy, and of simon finally getting his hands on your cunt and dragging you up to his mouth for a taste, and of simon fucking you at every surface—on the island, in the living room, against the window, in front of the mirror.

in some of them, he’s still wearing his jersey. in most of them, you’re the one who has it on.

simon cums once. then rubs another one before the flight because he makes the mistake of rereading your previous message. the release isn’t euphoric; sure, it’s enough to stop the fever, but it was almost too clinical.

you’re still in your gym clothes when simon’s clumsily making his way home. you shriek at the way he just covers you with his bulk, before giggling at the ticklish feeling of his scruff rubbing against your cheek.

“missed you,” he says.

you whine, nodding, before pushing him back just enough that you can finally jump into his arms. simon soaks up the attention, like it’s sticky liquorice, and the nuzzled kisses.

even the words pressed on his lips, he devours but there’s one thing simon needs more, and he’s almost shaking when you finally noticed.

you laugh, poking his cheek, before giving him what he wants.

“your hockey’s so hot, si,” you trill. “fuck me?”

“please,” simon croaks out because that is all he could truly say.

[sansaorgana]

— THE PROPHECY

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Fremen!Reader

SUMMARY — After failing to protect your tribe, its members leave you behind to die according to your customs. When Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen finds you, he immediately knows you are a daughter of the desert that was promised to him in the prophecy. Just like you were promised a man from the stars to come for you.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I changed the request a little and I hope it's fine – I just had this idea and I really wanted to write it but the request itself inspired it! 💛 By the way, this request was sent in April... 🙈 I am so ashamed of myself and it's not even the only request like that because I still have one left to write with Feyd... Please, do forgive me... 🙏🏻 I know nothing about Fremen customs and I didn't bother to Google them because I had this idea in my head and I liked it so I didn't want to change it either way. Therefore, keep in mind that I treat The Fremen culture pretty loosely here. Reader is a Princess (I don't think they have royalty at all in canon), she has ritual tattoos on her body (not as many as Lady Jessica but still) and she has blue eyes from the spice (which is not even mentioned I think 🤔) but other than that I did not describe anything about her looks.

WARNINGS — mentions of slavery, mentions of sexual activities including non/dub-con (no actual smut), mentions of suicide, Reader gets beaten up badly in the beginning by The Harkonnen soldiers

WORD COUNT — 4,200

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE PROPHECY

In other worlds, noble families had all the possible privileges alongside the burden of responsibilities. In other worlds, Princesses were spoiled and insufferable creatures who had all their whims and wishes fulfilled. But it was no other world – it was a cruel and harsh Arrakis. It was a hot desert filled with nothing but sand and spice and your tribe expected that your parents would help them to survive – no matter what price.

Everyone had the same duty to keep the rest alive – your father, your mother and even you, a simple Princess. The Fremen were not rich, therefore you were wearing the same clothes as everyone else. But even if you tried to blend in with the crowd, everyone would recognise you because of the ritual tattoos covering your skin. The noble blood was nothing but poison running through your veins – it was unwanted. Every failure was blamed upon you and you would drink the collected water as the last because your job was to make sure your tribe would live.

You had lost your mother first, even before the new Harkonnen invasion and the oppression of The Atreides. But your father died recently, in the very same ruins where your tribe left you to die in the ashes and heat before they attempted to run away. You were their Princess and your family had failed to protect them – the tough custom was to leave you behind and let the desert take care of you. It would either swallow you whole or you would prove yourself by digging yourself out.

But in this case – it was leaving you behind for The Harkonnens to find you and take care of you. It was worse than death in the desert. Perhaps their ways of murder were quicker and more sophisticated but they were unnatural. You were a Fremen and if you were to die, you wanted to do it by slowly decaying in the sand.

“Mercy… Mercy…” You begged quietly in Chakobsa language when they found out that the body laying amongst the ruins was still alive and breathing.

One of the Harkonnen soldiers pulled you up by your hair and you could see them all through hazy eyes, in their black uniforms covering their unhealthy pale white skin. 

“That bitch is alive,” one of them drawled out. “Are you going to talk?” He leaned in to ask you but you didn’t answer. You had no physical strength to answer him but also no spiritual motivation to keep going.

You were already prepared to die and you felt so indifferent that their punches and kicks did not bring you any pain at all. They dragged you by your hair and bruised your skin, they threatened you and cut you in a few places but with each drop of blood, you also felt your life leaking out of your body and what a sweet relief it was.

You were lying curled up on the ground and completely lost track of time. You could have been there for centuries, long hours or mere minutes only. You had absolutely no idea. You only waited for death to finally release you from this life and from the endless sands of Arrakis.

Your dream was to fly – fly away and see other worlds. See the worlds with greenery and water. To breathe in the fresh air and to be invisible in the crowd, to no longer be a Princess.

Or to simply disappear. That option was not so bad either. Everything was better than this life, certainly.

For now, they left you alone and proceeded to ruin the temple around you. And some part of you grieved this loss of your culture but the other part had no love for it anymore because you couldn’t care less at this point and because this world and these people had brought you nothing but pain and oppression. You loved and hated the Fremen equally.

Perhaps The Harkonnens had left you alone to regenerate before they’d start kicking and beating you again. Perhaps they would let you die in peace – that was doubtful, though. Perhaps they thought you were already dead but you were sure they did not because they were very committed to their art of killing.

When you heard heavy steps approaching you and their muffled voices explaining something to the man who had just arrived, you realised that they had been simply waiting for someone more important. And he was probably the one who would bring death to you. You tried to open your eyelids at least a little to see the face of your killer as you prayed quietly for a painless death even though you knew very well that no gods were listening to you. No gods would listen in a destroyed temple anyway. 

The gods were angry and their anger was always aimed at people like you – the noble Fremen who hadn’t managed to keep their people safe. You were doomed in this life and in the afterlife. There was no escape.

The man who had just walked inside the cave in which you were lying had an intriguing face because he was quite handsome for a Harkonnen. He had to be someone important, too, because his clothes were more elegant. He even had a cape attached to his stillsuit.

“Spy. Left behind,” one of his soldiers informed him and the man finally looked down and spotted you.

You bravely kept looking at him even though you knew already that painless death would be no option from his hands. You even straightened yourself up, slowly and gritting your teeth because you didn’t want to hiss out of pain and give them any satisfaction. Now, you were on your knees.

“No trace of the others,” the soldier explained.

“They’ve gone South to hide in the storms,” the new man commented and his voice made a shiver go down your spine and formed a knot in your stomach. There was something extremely eerie about him in a way that no ordinary Harkonnen could match. He was evil and twisted – even his voice was.

He was given a blade and he examined it as you were examining him, trying to figure him out even though it was pointless since it was the last minute of your life, most likely. Yet, stupid human brain always had to be kept entertained, always needed a distraction – even in a time like this.

“Send this message to The Baron,” the man commanded. “The North is liberated and secure. Harvest spice at will,” he looked back at you as if he was trying to mock you or tease you – so unaware how much you simply did not care anymore.

If it was up to you, you would blow up the whole planet. You would wipe Arrakis out of every galactic map.

“Yes, Na-Baron,” the man behind him bowed his head and then you realised that the demon in front of you was Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen himself.

It was quite ironic – he was of noble blood, too. Perhaps it would be an honour to be killed by him if you were a simple girl but you were not. Maybe it was a small mercy of the gods – a small, ironic smile. Yes, they would bring death now but at least your murderer was your equal and not a common Harkonnen scum.

Feyd-Rautha approached you slowly, clenching his jaw and your own sore muscles tensed, expecting another kick or a blow or things much, much worse. You just kept sitting there and looking up at him, too weak to even beg for mercy anymore.

And you didn’t want to either.

“She won’t talk,” another soldier of his told him and Feyd-Rautha tilted his head.

After a short while of silence, he crouched down in front of you and he tore a part of your stillsuit off of your body, revealing your arm and one side of your chest. You made no attempt to hide away from him or to yell for him to stop because you knew it would not help you in any way and it would only cost you even more of your dignity.

He smirked at the sight of your exposed body and stood up again.

“She is their Princess,” he pointed out loud. “Her marks give her away,” he added. “She is no spy. She was left to die as a punishment of her tribe.”

You were surprised how much he knew about your customs. Feyd-Rautha turned around to look at you again.

“I do not care about the Fremen traditions,” he informed you. “You will go with me,” he ordered.

You were too weak to move, of course. When two of his soldiers forced you to move up as they dragged you by your hair, you fell down on the ground. They kept forcing you up again and again, until you completely lost consciousness.

A man from the stars. 

You were a young girl again or perhaps you were a visitor in your old memory because you could see yourself sitting there, inside the dark cave deep under the temple with a Reverend Mother and a few other veiled Bene Gesserit women. A young girl with tears still in the corners of her eyes from the painful ritual of marking her body with the black ink. She had just become a Princess and she already knew it was a path of pain and sacrifice. Now, she had been tested with Gom Jabbar – another suffering filling this small body of a little girl. She hadn’t asked for any of this.

“A man from the stars,” the Reverend Mother said to her. A prophecy.

“What about him?” The girl asked, wiping her tears away with the palm of her hand, forgetting that they were sensitive now. The tears burnt her freshly-inked skin and she hissed. Bene Gesserit women smiled contemptuously. It was the Princess’ punishment for shedding tears and wasting water.

“He will come for you,” The Reverend Mother found her eyes through all the chains in her veil. Little girl felt a chill going down her spine at those words and she was not sure whether it was a promise or a threat.

She never told her parents about this prophecy and soon she forgot about it anyway. She grew up to be too big to believe in fairytales.

When you opened your eyes again, you gasped and sat up rapidly as the water splashed all around you. You looked down, terrified, and realised that you were naked inside a bathtub, surrounded by a few terrified maids who had moved away at the sight of you awakening.

“Wh-what is happening?” You asked them. Some of them were clearly Harkonnen with their white skin, big black eyes and bald heads. Some of them were Fremen slaves but they were not from your tribe because you couldn’t recognise any of them.

“Na-Baron asked us to clean you up and take care of your wounds, my Lady,” the Harkonnen maid informed you. She was not sure how to address you but you couldn’t care less about that. What shocked you the most was…

“Water!” You yelped and tried to get out of the bathtub although you were too weak to do so. “You are wasting water!”

“We have more than enough water here in the palace,” the Fremen slave woman told you and you calmed yourself down although you couldn’t help but feel angry about the injustice.

Of course they had water in the Arrakeen’s palace. The Harkonnens, The Atreides… People like them never suffered – even in a place like this.

You allowed the maids to go back to cleaning you up. When you were as fresh as never before, you couldn’t recognise yourself in the mirror. Even your skin looked a shade paler because it was no longer stained with the sand. Your hair was shining and the skilled hands of one of the maids braided it before your wounds were patched up and your body was covered with a semi-transparent dress. It was very feminine and quite revealing and the colours were all hues of orange.

“Na-Baron wishes to see you now, my Lady,” one of the maids bowed her head at you and two other maids took you by your arms to help you walk down the corridor to join Feyd-Rautha since you were still too weak to walk.

He was sitting by the big table that was filled with so much food you had never seen in your life. The colourful fruit filled with juice and water made your mouth drool.

The maids let go of your arms to bow down in front of him. You did not bow down but he did not comment. He had his legs placed up there on the table’s surface and he smirked at you, beckoning you over with his finger.

“Come, Princess,” he mocked your title and you limped towards him. “Leave us,” he ordered the maids and they left the room with their heads kept low out of fear and respect.

You finally reached the table and you grasped the edge of it for support as you moved even closer to Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. You were not scared of him because you were not scared of death anymore and his title did not intimidate you because you were of noble blood, too – even though in his eyes you had to be a dirty savage anyway.

His face fascinated you because it was so unnaturally beautiful in a way that no Harkonnen should be. But still, you kept staring at his face with nothing but pure hatred.

“You must be starving,” he pointed out at the chair nearby. “Treat yourself.”

“Thank you,” you drawled out through your gritted teeth and took the seat, too hungry to dismiss such an offer.

You were devouring a grapefruit, allowing its sticky juice to run down your chin when Feyd-Rautha put his legs back on the floor and leaned in over the table to take a closer look at you.

“What do they call you, Princess?” He asked in a low, raspy whisper. “Have my men hurt you badly?”

“(Y/N),” you answered and looked deep into his eyes, showing him that you were not scared of him. “I can handle that.”

“That is a pretty name for a strong woman,” he commented. “You will be my slave,” he said casually and leaned back on the chair.

You didn’t know what to say to this, really. You knew that protesting was foolish – you didn’t want to lose the opportunity to keep your stomach full and it was obvious from the beginning that he hadn’t brought you to the palace as a guest anyway. Still, it felt wrong to quietly accept such a fate.

“I am no maid,” you only said.

“Not like that,” Feyd-Rautha smirked. “Not a maid. A special slave,” he explained but you kept staring at him in silence, killing him with your gaze only. He found it amusing as he chuckled. “You know, Princess, you are a daughter of the desert,” he pointed his finger at you and you raised your eyebrow at him. “I was told by a Bene Gesserit witch that a daughter of the desert would give me a strong heir who shall inherit the Empire. The Harkonnen and Fremen bloodline could not be further apart and that is why mixed together they will create the most powerful species of men. An ultimate man,” Feyd-Rautha explained.

“You are the man from the stars,” you mumbled out, feeling weird with the fact that your prophecy had been true, after all.

Feyd-Rautha was taken aback by your question and he had no idea what it meant but you did not feel like explaining.

“You want me to be your whore. You want me to push out your heirs but they will not be any powerful, ultimate beings, Na-Baron. They will be pure chaos. That is the only thing that can ever come out of our bloodlines mixed together,” you pointed out harshly. “You poison my world, you oppress my people, you killed my family. And now you’re asking me to be your concubine.”

“I must have missed the part where I am asking,” Feyd-Rautha clenched his jaw. You were getting him angry and it was nearly funny how spoiled he was that he really had thought you would agree to such a proposition after such a past.

“Kill me,” you requested and put the grapefruit down. “Kill me because I will be no use to you. I will never be your whore and I would rather die than give birth to your sickly bastards.”

“Why are you loyal to the people who left you behind to rot in the sand?” He asked, tilting his head. He was no longer angry but simply curious.

“That is the custom,” you only answered.

Your relationship with your tribe and your world was of a difficult kind but Feyd-Rautha did not need to know about it. He was an intruder, an outsider, an oppressor. He didn’t deserve to know your heart.

“You can’t run away from your prophecy, Princess,” Feyd-Rautha reminded you before leaving the table and leaving you alone inside the room.

When he left, you went back to eating – as much as you could and as fast as you managed. You felt like an animal and a savage indeed but there was no one to witness that desperate act anyway and you could not remember the last time you had something in your mouth.

Feyd-Rautha did not bother you personally but the maids were following you around and even though you were given your own room with a beautiful view of the desert, you were never truly left alone. You had beautiful but pretty humiliating dresses to wear and you were given baths every day which felt like a profanity for a Fremen.

You were well fed but most of the time you were bored. You knew that Na-Baron was awaiting your answer. You just hadn’t been told how much time exactly you had to make a choice.

Choosing death was simple and easy. Choosing to be his slave-concubine meant betraying your people and betraying who you were, even though you had always felt like you did not fit in with the Fremen and you always wanted to leave Arrakis. It had been a distant dream, too foolish and impossible to even be mentioned to anyone. But now, it could be true. As Feyd-Rautha’s new pet that he seemed to already be pretty fond of, you would be able to visit other worlds.

Your prophecy had claimed, after all, that the man from the stars would come for you. His prophecy had claimed that the daughter of the desert would give him a powerful heir. If it was true and you would become a mother of the future Emperor – well, that was quite tempting, indeed. No matter the price.

Staring at the desert behind your window, you were hugging yourself and biting on your lower lip while you were spending your evening overthinking – it had been your only occupation lately.

You had a feeling that this evening Feyd-Rautha would join you because you were left alone by your maids which was unusual. And indeed, a few moments later the doors opened again and he walked inside. His steps were heavy and confident as usual. It would be your first conversation ever since the one after your arrival.

“My Princess,” he greeted you in that harsh voice of his as he stood behind you and put his hands on your arms in quite a gentle but still very possessive manner.

“I have not made my decision yet,” you only said.

“Decision?” Feyd-Rautha was surprised and then he laughed. “You do not get to choose. Do you think I would let you choose death when I know that your womb might give me an heir that has been promised to me in a prophecy?” He lowered his voice and his words sent a chill down your body. His lips were brushing your neck and earlobe and you tried to get away from his grip but he tightened it and you couldn’t do anything about it.

“I should have killed myself,” you drawled out through gritted teeth.

“I suspected you might do so, therefore I ordered the maids to invade your privacy all day and night, my Princess,” he smirked. You could feel his lips curling on your skin.

“I’m going to kill every child you put inside of me,” you threatened.

“You can try,” he kept smirking but his grasp tightened even further.

“I will not be your slave,” you protested and kept shaking your head even though you knew it was pointless.

“Concubine,” Feyd-Rautha tried to convince you as if he really cared for the transaction to go pretty smoothly. And, apparently, he was in a mood to bargain. 

“Wife,” you spat out and a long silence occurred. His grip loosened and he took a step back, eyeing you up and down as he let out a deep laugh. You turned your head around to look at him. “I won’t push out bastards,” you stated.

“I have no desire for a wife,” Na-Baron dismissed you.

“And I have no desire for a husband but that is the only way I see it working,” you explained. “Of course you don’t need my permission to do anything with me. You might use me, imprison me to make sure I won’t get rid of your spawn and then you can kill me. But I am not as weak as you think of me, I am a daughter of the desert. I will change your life into hell and I will make you regret every hour, every day until I eventually die but believe me, I will make this time pass by very slowly,” you threatened.

“And why would I want to marry such a woman?”

“Because I have not described a wife. I have described a slave,” you explained. “Do you wish to know what kind of wife I would be?” You raised your eyebrow and took a step further towards him. He seemed to be intrigued as he tilted his head and you smirked to yourself. It seemed to be working – your plan to tempt him and convince him.

You had to secure your future and your position and since he was your oppressor, you felt no guilt about using manipulation to get there.

“You might think of me as lower than you but I am a Princess just like you are a Na-Baron and only our customs differ. Imagine taking me back to your world, your exotic war prize from Arrakis. You can dress me up in those pretty dresses and show me off, swollen with your special heir. I am a savage to the outsiders but couldn’t you turn the tables and make it an advantage? Your wild, savage wife that nobody knows anything about and who everyone fears?” You whispered, seductively.

“I know what you're doing,” Feyd-Rautha breathed out but even though he was aware of you trying to manipulate him, he was visibly giving in anyway. “You’re going to kill me in my sleep,” he added, looking intensely into your eyes and you chuckled at that.

“Perhaps,” you shrugged your arms. “But isn’t the prophecy worth the risk?” You asked.

After all, you were sacrificing and risking a lot, too. And it would be only fair if the transaction costed you both the equal amount.

“You are the jewel of Arrakis,” Feyd-Rautha chuckled and raised his hand to undo your braids and watch your hair let loose.

“And you are its poison,” you remarked as he smirked, eyeing you up and down.

“Together, we can rule over the worlds,” he whispered.

“Or destroy them,” you added.

Na-Baron shook his head but the smirk remained on his lips. He found it amusing that you had an answer for everything and how gloomy they all were. However, so far, it was entertaining for him. He brushed your collarbone with his fingertips.

“I surely have more experience in destroying them than I have in ruling over them,” he confessed but the hunger in his eyes was a clear message to you that he did not mean only Arrakis but also women overall.

“Some are too wild to be ruled over and too wild to be destroyed,” you informed him and he found your eyes again after staring at your chest and neck. For the first time, you saw that he was genuinely intrigued. Perhaps he finally saw you as a challenge. A riddle. A savage to tame.

Whatever would keep you alive and in a position of power.

Because no matter how much you were trying to convince yourself that you were ready to die, this life stubbornly seemed to keep you alive and there must have been a purpose in it.

Therefore, you were ready to receive everything this new life had to offer for you now. As if you had died in that temple and now you were given a second chance.

MASTERLIST

[fredwkong]

Taking a Trip

Arne was more than excited to visit Vancouver for the first time. Everyone said that he could have easily seen beautiful mountains on a trip to Switzerland, but Arne wanted something a little bit extra inspiring on a continent he had never seen before. His life at home had become a little monotonous at his corporate job, and the dating pool was as unpromising as ever for a shy, reclusive man in his mid-20s.

With his frugal nature, Arne balked at the hotel prices in the city, and quickly found himself looking at short-term rental sites. The prices were, if possible, even worse. Finally, he followed a link to a retro-looking gay room-sharing website and saw an ad that read: “Shared room, accessible, perfect for tourists.” The price was well within Arne’s range, and it was within walking distance of transit. He booked it without a second thought.

It was only as the taxi drove away after dropping Arne and his suitcase on the curb that he had second thoughts. He followed the instructions the owner, Julian, had sent him and went around the small house to the back, where there was an external door to the basement. All around the door were skateboards, leaning on the concrete foundation, each with a unique design painted on its underside. As he knocked, Arne felt a tremor up his spine, like an anticipation of danger.

Before he could react in any way, he heard heavy feet and voices behind the door. With a clunk of the latch, the door swung open to reveal a young man with dark, curly hair and a thin moustache with no shirt on his tanned, muscular body. “What’s up, bro? You must be Arne,” he said in a deep, slow voice, holding out a big hand that engulfed Arne’s, even though they were the same size. “I’m Julian, your host.”

Arne opened his mouth to reply, but he lost his train of thought as an eye-watering stench poured off Julian’s bare, hairy muscles. He almost seemed to steam in the cold air. The smell was a mix of stale sweat, cooking spices, musky body odour, and, over all of it, the stench of weed.

After a moment, as Arne struggled to control the cough that threatened to burst out of him, Julian seemed to realise he was bare from the hips up. “Oh, sorry, bro,” he said, lazily backing away into the basement apartment. “I was, uh, busy.” He chuckled and moved away, grabbing a stained green shirt from an equally stained couch.

Reluctantly, Arne followed Julian through the doorway, and immediately realised that it was not only Julian who stank. The smell permeated the whole space, making Arne lightheaded. He wished that he had thought to bring air freshener in his luggage.

The basement suite was small, with low ceilings. Behind the couch was a counter to delineate the tiled kitchen, while in front of the couch was a low, beat-up table with a bong and other smoking paraphernalia scattered across it. To the side, a couple of doors led to what Arne hoped were the bedrooms and bathroom.

One door banged open, and another guy stumbled out into the living room. With a beanie over his dishevelled hair and his shirt on inside out, it was clear that he had dressed hurriedly. He looked over Arne with bloodshot eyes, his movements clumsy as he pulled on a thin jacket. “Hey man,” he grunted. As the man waved, another scent washed over Arne. This time, the skunk-smell was tempered with dried cum and a tangy, earthy flavour that hit the back of his throat.

“We lost track of time. Omar was just leaving.” At Julian’s gesture, Omar brushed past Arne and out the door. Arne turned to see him grab one of the skateboards leaning against the concrete stairs before the door shut behind him.

Arne was still shaking his head in an attempt to clear out Omar’s stench when Julian grabbed his bag. “In here, dude.”

Julian led Arne back through the door Omar had burst through into a room with two twin beds, exactly as small as Arne had feared. “Obvi, I won’t have guys over while you’re here, bro,” Julian said, handing Arne a spare key. “But if you like, we can always push the beds together for extra sleeping space.” He raised a lascivious eyebrow at Arne.

Blushing furiously, Arne made several aborted gestures. “Uh, no, no, no thank you,” he muttered, his accent thickening.

“Your loss, bro.” Julian raised both his arms to show his hairy armpits, posing as his musk assaulted Arne’s nostrils. “Just tell me if you change your mind, right? If you need me, I’ll prob-ly either be here smoking and painting, or over at the skate park, smoking and skating.”

Chuckling dumbly, Julian left the room. Moments later, while he sat on his bed and trying to work up the courage to leave, Arne’s nose was tickled by a waft of thick, numbing pot smoke.

It was just a few days, Arne reasoned. He’d be out all day anyway. He probably wouldn’t even see Julian that much, even if they did sleep in the same room. Plus, with a quick check of his bank balance, Arne knew that any alternative sleeping arrangements would be utterly impossible.

Arne forced himself to stay out late that night, exploring Davie Street, but his jet-lagged brain forced him back to the basement suite by midnight. Disheartened at the sight of a light on in the tiny ground-level window, he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Julian was painting a skateboard in the living room, a half-smoked blunt in one hand. Not even the acrid smell of the paints and lacquer could overpower the stench of weed and musk in the tiny space. “Evenin’, bro,” Julian slurred as Arne blinked his eyes and tried to adjust to the thick, musky atmosphere. “Hey, come sit with me.”

“I have to go to sleep,” Arne protested, even as he walked to the spare seat on the couch and lowered himself into it. He remembered that he had resolved earlier not to touch the couch, since it was covered in who knew what kind of stains, but it was already done.

“No worries, this’ll help you sleep, bro,” Julian said, waving away Arne’s excuse with his blunt and then taking a deep pull off of it. He blew a stream of smoke into Arne’s face.

Arne spluttered. “Wh-what the hell!” He’d smoked a few times, but he was hardly a stoner. He could already feel a contact high working its way through his system, loosening his muscles and overwhelming him with sleepiness. For some reason, it also left his body feeling strangely tight.

“What design should I put on this board?” As he spoke, Julian leaned back on the couch and laid his arm across the back. Through the haze in his mind, Arne realised Julian was shirtless again, with musky sweat dripping down his sides from the bushes in his armpits.

Julian was still talking, something about dragons and complementary colours, and Arne just nodded along, too fixated on Julian’s body to care. He had never liked smelly guys, but something about Julian had Arne’s cock flooding his boxers with precum.

As Julian took another hit off his blunt, Arne realised that he could smell the salty tang of his precum in the air. Looking down, he could see a slick, spreading stain on his jeans. How long had he been sitting here? He thought that he should be embarrassed, but working up shame seemed like so much effort. He was so relaxed, sitting here on the couch, breathing in Julian’s sexy musk and clouds of pot smoke.

The rest of the night was a blur. Arne was so tired. He vaguely remembered Julian’s face looming over his, dripping sweat into Arne’s mouth. At some point, Arne thought he must have taken his shirt off because he got so warm and sweaty sitting on the couch. Finally, they had moved to the bedroom, where Julian had kept talking while Arne tried to calm his dripping cock enough to fall asleep.

Arne woke up slowly the next morning, cocooned in the scent of musk and weed. He started to roll over, but realised suddenly that there was a pair of sweaty arms around his chest. One of Julian’s fingers brushed across Arne’s bare nipple, and he moaned uncontrollably as a spark of pleasure shot to his slick, precum-smelling crotch.

His face burning with embarrassment, Arne carefully extricated himself from Julian’s bed and stumbled to the bathroom. He wondered why his body felt strange and top-heavy until he switched on the light. In the mirror, he saw a pair of massive pecs on top of his slender torso, the big nipples erect and pink.

Despite his horror, Arne still found himself feeling oddly horny. Looking further down, he saw an unfamiliar, half-hard cock between his bare legs—he had slept naked!—still leaking thick, clear precum that gathered in big drops before falling to the floor.

There was something seriously wrong with this apartment, and with Julian. Arne struggled to think, but the scent of his precum was quickly filling the little bathroom, making his head foggy. He had to…He had to…He had to touch his fat man tits.

Arne watched in the mirror as he popped his sweaty pecs, and then grabbed them with one hand. Not only were they real, they bounced hypnotically as he kneaded at the muscle. A finger brushed over his pert nipple, and Arne moaned again. His voice sounded strange. A little bit too deep, and slower than he was used to.

Would he feel even better if he pinched his nipple? As Arne went to grab his opposite nip, he struggled to remember what he had been thinking about. It had been something way more important than his bouncing pecs…

The thoughts dissolved as Arne started to tug on his sensitive nipple. He moaned loudly, his legs buckling as jolts of pleasure engulfed his body. The trickle of precum from his cock grew into a continuous stream as he knelt on the bathroom floor, mindlessly tugging on his pecs.

Arne barely noticed the bathroom door open until a pair of strong arms grabbed him under his shoulders and started to haul him to his feet. “No cumming yet, bro,” said Julian’s relaxed drawl next to his ear. “You’re not nearly done yet.”

By the time Julian handed Arne a plate of poptarts, Arne’s horniness had mostly faded back to a low hum, which spiked at the scent of Julian’s unwashed armpits. Arne wondered if he should feel embarrassed to be sat, naked, on Julian’s couch, his insistent cock still slowly leaking tangy precum onto the seat.

“Yesterday was a lot for you, huh bro?” Julian said through a mouthful of poptart. “I bet you just wanna stay here and hang out with me all day.”

Arne frowned. He was supposed to go to the suspension bridge today…No, that sounded like a lot of work. He’d much rather hang out with Julian. He had no idea why he’d thought Julian was gross or uncool. His smell was utterly intoxicating.

“What were you planning to do today?” Arne asked, after he’d eaten a few bites.

Julian shrugged, shedding runnels of sweat from his pits. “I was gonna go to the skate park and hang with some bros, but you need me more, bro.”

“What do you mean?” Arne was independent! He didn’t need Julian around! But it did feel nice to have someone hot and manly like Julian looking out for him, he realised.

“You can’t be left alone right now, bro.” Julian had finished his breakfast, and started to set up the bong on the coffee table. “So we’re gonna hang out, I’m gonna smoke, and then you’re gonna help me with some boards.”

Before long, Arne was floating comfortably, a little stoned from how much smoke billowed out of Julian’s sexy mouth. Julian got to work painting a skateboard, but after a few minutes he turned to look at Arne, a strange smile on his face.

“Come over and help me, bro.”

When Arne slid down to the floor next to Julian, his host raised one tanned, muscular arm. “I’m so sweaty, bro,” Julian said. Arne agreed, watching a rivulet of sweat emerge from the dark hair in Julian’s armpit, adding to the heady musk in the room. “If you could just, like, lick it up for me, I’ll be able to focus so much better.”

Arne frowned. That didn’t seem like it would help at all. But before he could protest, he felt a strong hand on the back of his head, and Julian was pushing him into his musky armpit.

The smell overpowered any of his protests. Julian’s musk was baked into his skin, and taking it straight from the source was far more intense than smelling him at range. The smell of sweat filled Arne’s mind, and he started to lick and suck at Julian’s armpit hair without realising it. The rank taste filled his mouth and trickled down his throat, and Arne felt his leaky cock start to flow again. He couldn’t imagine anything hotter than this. As Julian kept painting, he moaned whenever Arne’s tongue pushed against an especially sensitive spot.

As he laved his tongue over Julian’s tight belly button a while later—time didn’t really matter—Arne started to feel itchy all over his body. As he ran a hand over his arms, he felt the resistance of thick hair. All over his body, Arne felt long hair growing. Before long, his precum didn’t even fall onto the skin of his hairy thighs, it just got lost in the hair.

With his new fur, Arne found himself sweating at least as much as Julian in the heat of the little room. When Julian took a break from painting to grab some lunch, Arne noticed a new smell filling the air. He was emitting his own flavour of musk now, like Julian’s, but with a bit more of a richness to it from the precum dripping between his legs. He couldn’t help but give his armpits a sniff, licking up what he could reach of his own taste.

Julian returned and grinned at Arne. “Damn, bro, you’re almost ready.”

“What?” Arne looked up at Julian. It felt like he was seeing through a thick haze. It was so hard to think. He had to get outside and get some fresh air. But where were his clothes?

Julian held out a brownie for Arne. “Here, bro, this’ll help that brain of yours along. It’s my special blend.” He winked a dark eye, and Arne obediently took a bite of the brownie from Julian’s hand.

While Julian got back to his painting, Arne felt himself feeling slowly, but insistently, hornier. From licking up the sweat at the top of Julian’s back, he moved lower and lower, until he was licking at the very top of Julian’s musky asscrack. His cock felt iron-hard and huge against his thigh, a continuous stream of precum trickling into his sweaty leg hair.

Julian groaned. “Oh, bro, if you’re gonna get in there, let’s do it for real.” Putting the freshly finished board aside, Julian rose to his feet and pulled Arne up as well.

Arne felt so tall. The floor was so far away. All he could see was his hairy belly and thick, drippy cock as he followed Julian through the door to the bedroom. Then, all he could see was Julian, lying on his back with his legs hooked over Arne’s hairy shoulders. At last, Arne was back in a place that made sense, looking into Julian’s asscrack, licking up the musky sweat on his firm cheeks.

As his tongue dove into Julian’s hole, Arne remembered the first time they had skateboarded together. With his natural musk, it was hard for Arne to make friends with other skaters, but Julian had skated right up to him and invited him back to his place.

As he lined his cock up with Julian and rubbed his copious precum over the shaft, Arne remembered growing up in Vancouver. Dealing weed had been fun before legalisation, but now his job at the dispensary was pretty easy. Arne spent most of his time perfecting his skating tricks or smoking up with Julian or their other musky skater friends.

As he thrust against Julian’s prostate and felt the smaller man begin to tighten around him and cum, Arne remembered how much he loved his buddies. He was the big guy of the group, with his big, hairy muscles and fat, leaky cock. He wasn’t much of a thinker, but he’d do anything for Julian and his bros.

With that thought, Arne felt his balls tighten against him as he unloaded a huge, creamy load in Julian’s ass. As he shuddered, collapsing on top of his bro, there was a knock at the door.

“Fuuuuuck, that’s my next guest,” Julian groaned, whining a little as Arne pulled out. In addition to selling custom skateboards, Julian made extra cash by renting part of his room to gay tourists. Arne loved Julian’s musky, pot-smelling basement, so he thought that sharing the space a bit more was a great idea.

Julian pulled a pair of relatively clean sweatpants up his legs and wiped the worst of his cum off his chest with one of the shirts on the floor. “Just grab some clothes, bro,” he said over his shoulder as he shut the door behind himself.

As he pulled on his XL sweatpants and grabbed his hoodie, Arne listened to Julian introducing himself to this new guy. “What’s up, bro? You must be Yadu. I’m Julian, your host.” The spiel sounded strangely familiar. Careful to leave the hoodie unzipped so he wouldn’t stimulate his oversensitive nipples, and careless of Julian's cum slowly drying in his chest hair, Arne crammed a beanie over his hair and stepped into the living room.

A shrimpy African guy was looking in horror at the room, a small suitcase hanging from his weedy arm. Arne waved at him, and the guy looked like he was about to gag as a wave of Arne’s thick, precummy musk washed over him.

“Sorry, bro, we lost track of time.” Julian was pulling on a shirt in the kitchen. “Arne was just leaving.”

Nodding to Julian, Arne brushed past Yadu and headed out the door, grabbing his skateboard from where it was leaning against the wall. He had to go meet up with Omar at the skate park anyway.

This story is a belated holiday gift for @rakurairagnarok! Here's to a very sexy, transformative new year, my friend ;)

[tiwarineha1]

Shop organic whole spices online at best price. Indian whole spices are intermediaries free and adulteration free order now on Crista Spices.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Hear me out.....pretty...pretty Please, some general fluff headcannons for 141 and Konig?! I'm desperate for some fluff. Stuff like how soft they r how they r at home, kisses that sort of thing? Id die of happiness if u did!!!!!?????

141 + König General Fluff Headcannons

Warnings: fluff🩷, mild NSFW references

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon Ghost Riley-

It takes him a while to open up to you, but once he does? He's yours forever.

He is more of a listener than a talker, and he is damn good at listening

You always have to be within his line of sight. He always wants to make sure you're safe.

Definitely gets up before you in the mornings and loves to wake you up with coffee

Not big on PDA, but he doesn't mind holding your hand out in public.

Doesn't say I love you often, but when he does, it turns your whole world on an axis

Says no to a getting a dog at first, but when you finally get him to say yes? The dog is that man's best friend.

He's not a very good cook when you first get together, but he teaches himself in secret one year to surprise you on your birthday by making you your favorite meal. (Your heart nearly melted at the proud smile on his face when he told you he made it)

This man is loyal as hell. You will NEVER catch him looking anyway at anyone the way he looks at you. No person's beauty in his mind will ever compare to yours

Loves going for long car rides with you. Weekend trips, day trips, whatever works for him. Will ALWAYS have his hand resting on your thigh

He developed a ritual with you, where he will wear one of his hoodies for a few days straight so it smells like him when he goes on deployments

Secretly loves when you wear his dog tags. It's a kink of his he won't voice out loud

Loves to spoon you in bed. Very rarely will he not be holding you, or touching you in some way when he sleeps

Takes him a while, but he'll start to look forward to holidays with your family. They welcome him with open arms, and for the first time in a long time, Simon feels like he has a true family who loves him

John Price-

Loves to hear about your day. First thing he asks you when you come home after work is how was your day? And this man GENUINELY listens

Loves to spoil you. Man gives inadvertent sugar daddy vibes. You even hint at something you like or want? He will get it for you

Huge on spontaneous dinner dates. Loves to come home randomly and tell you he's taking you for a night out

Literally has the hardest time saying no to you. For ANYTHING.

He tries to act all tough, but this man is so whipped for you

Loves when you rest your feet in his lap on the couch, as he loves to massage them for you after a long day

Fight me, but this man loves to take baths with you. He loves to relax in the hot water, with you against his chest. He can literally fall asleep like this

Always insists on paying when you go out to eat. Never, ever let's you foot the bill (if you pout enough, he may let you, but will feel bad about it afterward)

Will watch any TV show you want. He says he hates romantic dramas, but he's just as invested as you are

Kisses with him are always longing, and always want you leaving more

Man is a Valentines Day legend. Flowers, chocolates, jewelry, fancy dinners THE WORKS

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

An amazingly fun boyfriend to have.

Johnny always wants to do something fun, go somewhere fun

He's surprisingly amazing at giving massages

Doesn't mind PDA, he'll randomly kiss you in public, hug you, and hold you close. He doesn't care who sees.

Loves to try new things. Whether it's food, movies, or something to spice up the bedroom, the man will never say no to trying something at least once

Not a morning person, and he will have an iron tight grip on you in an attempt to force you to stay in bed longer with him every morning (he always ends up succeeding)

His ideal date with you is a pub. Something with good food, good beer, and even better company.

Loves to "mislead" you about when he's coming home from a mission, because he absolutely adores the look on your face when he surprises you earlier than expected

Adores double dates. Loves to hang out with couple friends.

When you're walking on a sidewalk, he'll always push you on the inside so you're away from the cars

Definitely is that boyfriend that will send you a dozen tik tok reels a day

Please go to an amusement park with him. He'd be so happy winning the various carnival games for you, getting you any stuffed animal of your choosing

You two cannot do surprises for one another. You get too excited and end up telling each other gifts or surprises the minute you plan them

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

This man loves to surprise you with flowers. Had a bad day? Flowers. Wants you to feel a little extra loved? Flowers. Thought you looked cute one day? Flowers.

Loves to go to furniture stores with you. Even if you don't actually need it, the two of you can spend hours looking around at various stores

Enjoys cooking for you. He's one to try new recipes, and loves seeing your reactions to them.

Firmly believe this man loves to dress up as a couple and that Halloween is his absolute favorite holiday.

Adorably loves to have a "chore" day once a week with you, where you both do house chores together for a few hours, while each of you gets to pick what song plays in the background

So supportive of any hobby you might have. Like to paint? He'll continuously buy you paint brushes. Love video games? He'll buy you any new one that comes out he'd think you'd enjoy.

Whenever you guys go out, he always orders something you like for his meal, in case you don't like yours

If you have longer hair, he loves to play with it and help you style it

Best movie buddy ever. He LOVES going to the movies with you, and will get you all the popcorn and snacks you desire

Will hold your bags for you while you shop, and will fight you if you try to carry your own

König-

Possibly the sweetest boyfriend out of all of them

You will catch him staring at you ALL the time. Any second he gets, he will be looking at you

Loves date night ins. Cooking together or getting takeout and cuddling on the couch together while watching a movie? This man'll be in heaven

Loves to offer you his arm in public. Plays into his size kink when your small hand wraps around his bicep whenever you walk anywhere.

Man will WORSHIP you in bed. Wants nothing more than to make you happy in every aspect of your life.

Is more of a cat person than a dog person, so you two end up getting quite a few kitties around the house

Always kisses you like you're delicate. Loves to place gentle, loving kisses to your lips when you least except it, and his cheeks always flush a deep pink when he does

Will always shower with you. When he's home from missions you very, very rarely shower alone. Loves to help you shampoo your hair

Adores ADORRESSS when you wear his clothes. Triggers the man's size kink like no other when his shirts are like dresses on you

Amazing at aftercare. Always wants to make sure you're satisfied. Will warm a towel for you, get your water-whatever you need.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[mrsparrasblog]

POLY 141: How They React to Someone Else Flirting with Them

I don't think they would be mean in a normal situation, like someone coming up and saying "you're cute," and they respond with "Thank you, but I'm more than happy with my wonderful wife."

But let's spice ✨ this situation up a bit, like you're at the pub with them and you go to the toilet, and someone approaches them, knowing exactly that you're their girl. It's over for Miss Girl. They are really nice people, just not when someone disrespects their misses.

Ghost: He would just give them a death stare through his mask. "Go," he huffs, annoyed by the whole situation, and he just leaves her alone. He doesn't even give anyone between you and your pretty three other boyfriends any attention, so why bother even looking at her?

Price: If you're married, he just taps on his ring, and even if you're not married, he is like, "I'm married to the most beautiful girl in the world."

"One time won't hurt."

"If you're not gone in 5 seconds, my wife will probably rip you apart."

You will.

Kyle: Our sweet Kyle, do you really think he is still sweet? Oh no, he is the worst of all of them. I have this headcanon of him that he is the most attentive and obsessed boyfriend of all of them; he just loves you unconditionally. And when someone approaches him with,

"Don't you want someone more in your league, pretty boy?" she said while he touched his crotch. It's over - first of all, no one dares to tell him that you aren't a literal goddess of beauty, and second, only you can call him this, and Price when you have a threesome but no one else.

"Last time I checked, you're not even half as hot, funny, or intelligent as my girl, so piss off and stop touching me."

"Stop lying to me."

And then that guy just casually holds a picture on his phone of you against her and looks. "Nah, you're ugly."

You return, and he tells you not to worry your pretty head over this slag.

Johnny: Oh, he would be petty. You know he loves showing you off and kissing you in front of all the guys who want you, even in front of Price, Gaz, and Ghost, even though you're POLY. Boy is possessive. So why not show everyone he is yours? He pulls you onto his lap and kisses your neck, his hands grabbing your hips and everything in front of her. "Mhm, going to fuck you hen," and he does in the bathroom stall of the pub. And now, don't you dare to be quiet while he shows his claim.

Bonus: You, who reach that girl looking at her while using your most innocent smile. "If you don't leave my men, I'm going to kill you, shred you into many pieces, and send your parents a piece every year so they can puzzle you back up." The girl runs away thinking you're mental. John and Kyle are 100% sure that you got this sentence from Ghost, but it was actually Johnny who taught you this, since Ghost explained to you for 3 hours straight why this wouldn't work - Buzzkill.

[spicelandwholesale]

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[7s3ven]

Can be interpreted as platonic or poly! 141

My head canons on their spice tolerances

John Price who’s like a garbage dispenser and will gladly eat anything you place in front of him. He can handle a mediocre amount of spice but won’t complain if his tongue is numb because he wants to make you smile.

John Mctavish who finds salt spicy but he won’t hesitate to eat a chilli pepper to make you laugh. Though, he will deeply regret his actions when he’s lying on the floor with a sore stomach.

Kyle Garrick who only eats spicy food. Oh, his meal has no chilli in it? No problem, he’ll add his own. He absolutely adores spice (not as much as he adores you, though), even if he’s gone beyond his own high tolerance and is tearing up.

Simon Riley… is the worst of them all. If you thought Jonny was bad, wait until you meet Simon. He finds tomato sauce spicy. He tries not to show it but the moment a hint of pepper comes in contact with his tongue, he’s burning up.

“Ay, Jonny, hand me the fucking milk already. ‘M dyin’ over here.” Simon has his arm outstretched, wishing Jonny wouldn’t tease him and hold the carton of milk just out of his grasp.

Jonny is grinning while you’re watching in concern, brows furrowed. “Simon, honey, there wasn’t even any spice in the food. None even a grain of pepper either.” Sometimes you wonder how his tolerance for spice could be so unbearably low.

Simon starts coughing, berating Jonny to just give him the milk already. Finally, Jonny cooperates. You and the rest of Task Force 141 can only watch in amusement as Simon tilts his head back, gulping down the whole carton of milk.

Simon did forget to mention one other important detail though… he’s lactose intolerant.