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#But let's be happy for the remaining members
shirtlessradfahrer · 3 days
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So I've been politically active since before I was even eligible to vote. I've followed North American politics near religiously since 2014, and I've been a card-carrying member of my country's most prominent left-wing party since before the start of the pandemic. I barely slept at all during the week Ukraine was full-scale invaded, and I've been stressed about it every day for the last two years, given that my grandfather was born there and I've very much wanted to visit someday. And this was all before the horrific debacle of October 7th, and the subsequent atrocities committed against Gaza practically every day since. Lately I've weaned myself off a lot of international news and been more active in local politics because that's where I feel my efforts have been more effective, but...
...the reality is I am tired. I am so fucking tired.
I blacklisted just about everything remotely political when I made this blog because I wanted this space to be my escape from all of that. He is my escape from all of that. A badly needed one, because between the state of the world, the state of my country, the state of my workplace and the state of my personal life, my mental health has been....not very good for most of this decade and last.
I know this is unhealthily cynical, but as someone who had some pretty shitty friends in the past, and continues to have some incredibly shitty family members, including my own father (who, despite having Käärijä levels of charisma and putting on an excellent act in public, has repeatedly hurt me and let me and others down when we needed him most)....I expect famous people I admire to disappoint me. I very much expect famous men I admire to disappoint me. It may be in three days, or in three months, or in three years, or in thirty years, but it will happen at least once, if not multiple times.
Which is why I don’t-and never have-looked up to musicians or any other celebrity for guidance on my political or moral beliefs. It's a surefire way to set yourself up for not only disappointment but feelings of betrayal towards someone who was never "loyal" to you in the first place. And I wish so many people didn't learn that lesson far too late.
I don't like Jere Mikael Pöyhönen because of his insightful commentary on the state of geopolitics. To be extremely blunt, I like him because he's hot and he entertains me, both of which bring me happiness. Once I no longer feel that happiness, I'll move on to other interests, just as I always have. It would be very nice, however, if that day came in thirty years rather than in three. Which is why I felt relief when he expressed his wish to remain politically neutral, even regarding politics in his own country.
That being said....am I disappointed he went to you-know-what? Yes, for reasons both political and non-political. Am I disappointed that he willingly interacted on camera with you-know-who? Yes. In fact there are several things he has done and people he has associated with that I'm not particularly happy about. But in this case do I understand WHY he went and why he interacted with them? Also yes.
I don't believe he had any malicious intent, quite the opposite. His kindness is both his greatest strength and his greatest weakness-he is kind to the point that he foolishly undermines his own credibility. I don't know if there's an equivalent of Hanlon's Razor in Finnish but it goes "never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity".
And.....well. This is a guy who couldn't tell the Ukrainian esc23 representatives from the Greek ones. Who didn't know what the trans flag was until he was personally handed one last year. Who, AFAIK, has never received any sort of higher education (vocational school would still sort of be considered such where I live, but whatever) not that that automatically makes someone "smart" and others "stupid", but it can and often does help with understanding international issues. And based on my overall experience with hockey fans/players (of which he's both)...they typically aren't terminally online debating anything besides individual player and team statistics.
So I'm not shocked that he didn't think about how Just Being Nice on camera with that representative would look to others outside of his own bubble. How that would not have looked particularly "neutral". But he should have, considering this isn't the first time he's had to deal with angry internet mobs coming after him for a relatively minor mistake. Considering his favourite band got into very hot water last year and dealt with the controversy very poorly for too long.
Is it fair that I can block some tags, turn off the tv, and get on with my day, while he has to worry about his image the moment he leaves home? No. But...this is the inevitable downside of the life he wanted. Unlike me, he now has an audience of millions, a not-insignificant number of whom are going to be thinking about this stuff, meaning he needs to as well. And if not, he needs to pay someone to think about it for him. Goodness knows he can afford it now. I can do without all that pyro if it means none of us have another week like this one.
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moonsaver · 2 days
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YES. I can only think about how lost and broken Robin must feel after everything that has happened. How could she not have noticed? Will they ever fulfill their promise to each other? So many questions, but where are the answers? Robin thinks, will they even see each other again?
THEY'RE ACTUALLY SO FUCKING TRAGIC. One remains on the spotlight, shining bright while the other falls to their demise, hoping — no, wishing to be able to soar.
STOPPPPP I HATE THISSSSS.. perhaps the bird they so tenderly cared for was a euphemism for their own ideals – one who fought hard to soar the sky and one who simply wanted a safer haven for their own innocence.. dear goodness..
If I was robin id be so damn heartbroken. Imagine your only family member shouldering the weight of the world and silently rotting inside from the sheer misery of it, but still keeping a sealed lip because they can't let you know, they can't disturb your happiness, they can't impede on the one thing you're fighting so hard for.. so they stay quiet. They burden themselves. They tolerate. Imagine finding all of this after they descend and spiral into madness from the sheer enormity of it, and you can't even talk to them – they go missing right after. No one tells you about them. You have to search for them all over again, like they weren't hidden from you for so long already..
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pin-k-ink · 18 hours
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paradox // kunikida doppo
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tw ⇢ punishment sex, spanking, power play, sir kink, degradation, dirty talk, begging, unprotected sex, kinda bratty reader, manhandling, slightly possessive kunikida
wc ⇢ 5.7k
a/n: for the sake of the story, let’s just pretend that he has an office of his own. also, i’m not happy with this one at all :(
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Kunikida pinched the bridge of his nose, trying and failing to ignore the pounding headache brought on by you once again. As an elite member of the Armed Detective Agency, he prided himself on maintaining strict order and following protocol to the letter. You, on the other hand, seemed to take immense pleasure in upending rules and sowing chaos wherever you went.
From the moment the agency had reluctantly taken you on as a recruit, you had been a thorn in Kunikida's side. Your flagrant disregard for authority and propensity for reckless behavior clashed violently with his regimented, by-the-book approach. He had tried every disciplinary method in the book to whip you into an ideal operative - stern reprimands, revoked privileges, even temporary suspensions. But you remained stubbornly defiant, meeting his gravely disapproving looks with that insufferable, mocking smirk.
And yet, Kunikida couldn't deny the alarming frequency with which his thoughts strayed to your insolent countenance, your brazen flaunting of the rules he held so dear. You frustrated him to no end, but also awoke a deeper, indefinable tension within him that he didn't quite understand. An unseemly, unbidden part of him wondered what it would take to finally break through that seemingly impenetrable veneer of nonchalance and make you bend to his will.
Perhaps that made him a hypocrite of sorts - dreaming of bending the rules himself when it came to dealing with his most problematic subordinate. But you inspired a sense of reckless abandon in Kunikida that both thrilled and deeply unsettled him...
No matter how firmly Kunikida attempted to lock away the inappropriate thoughts and urges you awoke within him, you always seemed to claw your way back into the forefront of his mind. Your blatant refusal to take anything seriously gnawed at his restraint in a way he couldn't quite explain.
During disciplinary meetings, he found his eyes inadvertently trailing over the swell of your lips as you responded to his reprimands with that aggravating pout and exaggerated eye-rolls. He cursed the spike of heat that rushed through him at your patent disregard for his authority. A dark part of him wondered what it would take to wipe that impudent look off your face and replace it with something else...something less insolent.
The mere thought made Kunikida's palm itch to land a stinging slap to that sarcastic mouth of yours. He quickly banished the highly inappropriate imagery, aghast at himself for even entertaining something so unprofessional. This was exactly the kind of lapse in his hallmark control that you always managed to inspire in him.
And you remained utterly oblivious to the war raging within Kunikida every time your brazen antics landed you in his office for punishment. You simply met his gravest tongue-lashings with that same unbothered defiance. As if you could sense the effect you had on rattling his sterling composure and relished every second of it.
"Are you even listening?" Kunikida's raised voice would inevitably cut through your studious inspection of your nails or whatever else you used to intentionally tune him out. Slowly, you'd raise your gaze to his thunderous expression and bite back a grin.
"Of course, sir," you'd reply in that dulcet, insincere tone that made his jaw clench. "You were just regaling me again about the importance of following orders like a good little worker bee. My bad for zoning out."
The blatant mockery made Kunikida's hand spasm with the effort of restraining the shameful urge to--what? Shake you until that infuriatingly placid look shattered? Drag you over his knee for a painful lesson in respect?
He ruthlessly blanked those disturbing thoughts. This was precisely why he could never seem to make any headway with curbing your unruly behavior. You prowled at the very edges of his control, threatening to pull him down into a pit of disarray that he couldn't allow. At least, not as long as he remained your commanding superior.
But an increasingly depraved part of Kunikida wondered...what if he stopped adhering so strictly to the rules and regulations, just this once? What if he finally allowed himself to unleash the darkly authoritative side of himself you always seemed to flirt with riling up?
The thought was offensive to his core principles of conduct. And yet, the longer you persisted in your defiance, the harder it became for Kunikida to ignore. He could feel his restraint slipping more each day. Eventually something would have to give - either he would find a way to break through your mulish refusal to obey...or you would finally succeed in shattering his hallowed self-control entirely.
And somewhere deep down, a reckless part of Kunikida feared that the latter possibility was becoming harder and harder to discount entirely.
With every insolent quirk of your brow, every piccant quip dripping from your lips, Kunikida could feel his grasp on his legendary restraint slipping further. You had evolved from a mere disciplinary headache into something more...an itch he couldn't scratch, a puzzle he couldn't solve no matter how sternly he attempted to enforce protocol.
You remained utterly unfazed by his harshest reprimands and threats of punishment. In fact, you seemed to take a impish sort of delight in watching his control splinter under your relentless provocations. As if your sole purpose was to unmake the foundations of order and decorum that Kunikida had spent his life upholding.
The truly unsettling part was the unmistakable frisson of darkness that surged through Kunikida whenever you managed to rattle his unshakable decorum. He couldn't deny the undercurrent of illicit satisfaction that came with fantasies of finally stripping away that veneer of nonchalance by any means necessary. Of making you bend to his dominance and discipline until that diffident smirk was replaces with open desperation.
These were dangerous thoughts, Kunikida knew. They strayed into shadowed territory completely unbefitting of his position and principles. And yet he found himself unable to purge them entirely from his mind's eye. Especially not after that deliciously fraught encounter last week...
You had reported for a disciplinary meeting as required after your latest fiasco in the field. But this time, Kunikida's stern rebukes seemed to land with more effectiveness than usual. For once, you didn't simply smirk and dismiss his words out of hand. Instead, you had gone conspicuously still and quiet, holding his blazing gaze with something like trepidation.
Perhaps emboldened by that minute response, Kunikida hadn't been able to resist stepping into your space, pinning you with the full force of his formidable presence. You shrank back fractionally, your pupils blown wide as Kunikida allowed his voice to drop to a dangerous register.
"I'm going to ask you one final time," he had uttered in a tone of hushed intensity. "Are you going to start adhering to the protocols I've outlined, or am I going to have to take...disciplinary measures?"
Your throat had worked convulsively at the undisguised threat in his words. And Kunikida hadn't missed the way your chest rose and fell in strained panting as his proximity increased. Recklessly, he allowed his hand to grasp your jaw, his thumb sweeping over the plump swell of your lower lip.
"W-what kind of measures?" You managed to whisper, your eyes locked on his with a look he had never seen before. Not defiance or amusement...but something murkier. Needier.
Kunikida felt his control stretching to the breaking point in that moment. He had opened his mouth, dizzy with the realization that you had finally responded to his dominance in a way that spoke to primal, ravenous drives he kept locked away...
But then the sharp rap at his office door had shattered the tension. In an instant, Kunikida had sprung back, snatching his hand from your face as if burned. You had quickly looked away, color flooding your cheeks as you smoothed your shirt with unsteady hands. And simply like that, the intoxicating spell was broken.
A deep, unsettling part of Kunikida remained haunted by the memory - by the implications of what could have happened had you two been left uninterrupted. It was the closest he had come to completely casting off his rigid restraints where you were involved.
And he knew it was only a matter of time before you well and truly pushed him past that line for good.
In the aftermath of that charged encounter, Kunikida found it utterly impossible to purge you from his thoughts. His mind kept revisiting that moment when you had peered up at him through hooded eyes, your quickened breaths and parted lips hinting at something dangerously intoxicating simmering beneath the surface.
For once, you had seemed to surrender to his dominance rather than reflexively defying it. And Kunikida couldn't lie to himself - a baser, unrestrained part of him had sorely wanted to capitalize on that rare show of submission. To finally unleash the full force of his authority upon your insubordinate defiance in the way he'd been craving.
The things he could have done in that heated instance made Kunikida's blood run hot with illicit imaginings. He saw himself crowding into your personal space, allowing you no chance to retreat as he caged you against the wall. His hand would be merciless in its grip on your jaw, forcing your gaze to remain locked on his as he uttered in a dangerous rumble:
"That's enough backtalk from you. I've indulged your deplorable lack of discipline for far too long." His free hand would skim torturously down the side of your body, hips pressing firmly against yours. "I think it's high time I revisited the more...traditional methods for addressing willful insubordination, don't you?"
He could easily envision the thunderstruck look on your face, the sharp intake of breath as you grasped the undeniable threat - and promise - in his words. You would have nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from the punishing weight of Kunikida's dominance as his dark presence utterly consumed you.
Imagining you pliant and submissive in his grasp made Kunikida's core run molten. But even more dizzying was picturing you defiantly attempting to wrest back control. Visualizing the lush curve of your lower lip caught between biting teeth, eyes flashing insolent challenge at him. Kunikida's hand would instinctively tighten its bruising hold in response, his hips flexing against yours in clear warning.
"That's no way to look at a superior officer giving you an order," he would growl in a low tone that vibrated with contained menace and hunger. "If you insist on persisting in open insubordination...I'll simply have to find increasingly creative means of ensuring your obedience."
Coherent thought scattered at the maelstrom of forbidden images that suggestion conjured. He pictured your quickened panting, the feverish sweep of his eyes over your parted lips. Imagined the feeling of bare, flushed skin beneath his roaming palms as he ruthlessly stripped away every last scrap of nonchalance and defiance until only desperation and dark desire remained. Until you openly craved the merciless onslaught of his discipline as the only way to slake the raging ache he had instilled...
Lost in the lurid tailspin of such depraved fantasy, Kunikida had to choke back a guttural groan. He couldn't allow this lapse of his restraints, this flagrant dereliction of his sworn ethics. He was a professional damn it, not some degenerate indulging prurient appetites with a subordinate.
And yet every passing encounter made it more difficult to maintain that line. Especially when you would provoke him intentionally, practically begging for him to give in and relieve this growing, suffocating tension between you both. You were utterly shameless about it - biting your lip as you met his furious glare, shifting your hips in a subtle grind, making a show of trailing your fingers along your throat or any other path that drew Kunikida's hungry gaze.
It was as if you had finally recognized the combustible effect you exerted on his decorum and were determined to see how far you could push until he finally snapped.
The thought made Kunikida's jaw clench hard enough that his teeth ached. Because for all his bluster about punishments and discipline, he knew you had him at a profound disadvantage. He was teetering inexorably toward that point of no return where he would finally abandon every professional protocol and ethical brake.
And once he crossed that line, once he allowed his authority to wholly dominate and subjugate your mutinous defiance...he feared even you wouldn't be prepared for the ferocity of his response.
The closer Kunikida skirted to that precarious line, the more unrestrained your provocations became. You seemed to realize on an instinctual level that his restraint was thinning perilously. And like a predator sent blood in the water, you honed in relentlessly.
Simple disciplinary meetings turned into charged exhibitions where Kunikida found himself battling dueling urges - to either haul you over his desk and put you in your place once and for all...or to retreat before his control shattered entirely. The way your eyes danced with smug challenge as you stretched lazily in your seat, your shirt riding up to reveal a teasing strip of toned midriff. How you made a show of sucking on the end of your pen while maintaining that boldly unwavering stare.
He knew exactly what you were doing, could perceive the deliberate allure in each languid movement and baiting look. Yet it made no difference. Despite himself, Kunikida remained inescapably, irresistibly ensnared.
On several occasions, he even caught himself entertaining dark fantasies of making you pay for such provocative behavior. Of grasping the back of your neck in a brutal grip as he hauled you against his body, hissing reprimands directly against the heated shell of your ear.
"You think you can toy with me indefinitely?" His voice would be low and dangerous, sending involuntary shivers down your spine. "Push my restraint until I finally snap and retaliate in kind?"
He imagined his free hand roaming with impunity up your thigh, reveling in your sharp inhalation and instinctive part of your legs at the first brush of calloused fingertips against overheated skin.
"Be very careful what you wish for," Kunikida would rumble with quiet intensity. "My patience is nearing its end. And when it does...you're going to be wholly unprepared for what I inflict as punishment."
The thought made something dark and primal flare in the depths of his gaze as he drank in your reaction - the abrupt dilation of your pupils, the rapid flutter of your pulse visible in your throat. He found himself aching to push further, to see how far he could shove before you finally broke composure.
Of course, these sordid imaginings remained locked behind a carefully impassive facade in reality. But you seemed to perceive the storm brewing beneath, needling Kunikida with increasingly overt temptations. It was only a matter of time before one side inevitably yielded to the other's insistent goading.
Both of you understood the dangerous inevitability of that outcome. And unless Kunikida missed his mark, a perverse thrill coursed through you at the sinful prospect. You wanted to test the true reaches of his brutally implacable dominance. Craved to know just how merciless and singleminded he could be in stripping you of every last shred of insolent defiance, replacing it with desperation.
And deep down, past his last remaining shreds of professionalism, Kunikida knew he ached to finally unleash the full, unrestrained extent of his discipline upon you. To make you keenly experience the consequences of your flagrant acts of mutiny in a way that would irrevocably shatter the dynamic between you both.
He could practically taste the exquisite downfall awaiting on the other side of that line. The thought made his blood burn with illicit, undeniable need. Soon...so very soon now, he could already sense it.
One of you was going to be driven past the point of no return. And may whatever gods existed have mercy on the both of you when that finally happened.
The tipping point arrived in an almost anticlimactic fashion after one too many instances of your flagrant disregard for authority. A missed stakeout, a botched pursuit, careless actions that nearly blew an undercover operation - all culminated into a perfect storm that saw Kunikida summon you to his office with a look of thunderous rage.
You sauntered in as usual, seemingly oblivious to the palpable danger radiating off Kunikida in waves. When you opened your mouth to likely spout some flippant dismissal, Kunikida's palm slammed down on the desk with an earth-shattering bang.
"That's it!" He roared, his voice dripping with a lethal combination of fury and something darker, more ominous. "I've reached the limit of my forbearance where your unruly behavior is concerned."
There was an undercurrent of promised violence quivering beneath his words that sent an illicit shiver down your spine. Finally, you found yourself pinned by the full, unleashed force of Kunikida's domineering presence with no filter or restraint.
"S-sir..." You started, surprised to find your voice coming out more breathless than intended.
"No!" He snarled, rounding the desk in two long strides to loom over your frozen form."Not another word from your intractably vexing mouth. All you've done is goad me time and again with open defiance and contemptuous flaunting of every order."
One hand shot out to clutch the front of your shirt, the other gripping your jaw in a bruising hold that you instinctively tried to pull back from. But Kunikida was having none of it, his enraged features just inches from yours as he effortlessly subdued your attempts at retreat.
"It's clear that reasoned disciplinary actions hold no efficacy for an endlessly incorrigible, disrespectful wanton like you," he growled, his eyes burning with a ferocious intensity you'd never witnessed. "Since you refuse to respond to anything other than enticement and temptation..."
His grip on you tightened painfully then, his hips pressing you back against the wall as he loomed into your space, suffocatingly overwhelming in his masculine potency.
"I'm going to give you exactly what you've been asking for this whole time. The disciplinary punishment you've been flagrantly courting with every insubordinate act and tawdry provocation!"
Your eyes went wide at the undisguised vow of dominance, thrills of excitement and apprehension chasing each other. This was it - the moment you had sought to goad into existence through increasingly outrageous mutinies. Finally, you had pushed past Kunikida's hallowed restraints, unleashing the full, untempered force of his merciless authority.
A tiny part of your mind whispered that you should be terrified at the implications of his furious promise. That you were utterly at his mercy now, stripped of all defiance or nonchalance to shield you from his implacable onslaught. But the rest of you trembled with shameless yearning at the exquisite anticipation.
You held his blazing stare, allowing your lips to curl in a last, insouciant smirk that you knew would infuriate him further. A final push past the point of no return.
"Well?" You heard yourself taunting breathlessly, even as your core tightened with need. "What are you waiting for, sir? I'm ready for my punishment..."
Kunikida's eyes dimmed to something utterly primal and implacable in that moment. His mouth crashed over yours in a searing, punishing embrace of total domination and possession that stole your very breath. You could only weakly surrender, every ounce of protest and defiance melting beneath the unstoppable force of his furious onslaught.
Kunikida's assault on your senses remained utterly merciless and consuming for long, dizzying moments. When he finally tore his mouth from yours with a rasping growl, you were left weak-kneed and panting, captive in the scorching heat of his stare.
"If you insist on receiving this punishment you've been so shamelessly angling for," he rumbled in a voice rendered husky with banked intensity, "Then we're going to establish a few ground rules first."
One hand released its grip on your shirt, only to slide possessively down the side of your waist. You shivered at the teasing, almost punishing touch as he pulled your hips flush against his own.
"First - you will address me as 'Sir' at all times without a single exception or hint of insolence," Kunikida stated with soft menace. "Any disobedience, disrespect or defiant behavior of any kind will result in..." His fingers dug warningly into the swell of your ass, making you gasp. "Harsher disciplinary actions, understood?"
You could only mutely nod, throat too dry with anticipation to summon words. Kunikida's blazing eyes pierced you with censure at the lack of verbal acquiescence.
"Answer me properly," he growled in clear reprimand.
"Y-Yes...Sir," you whispered feverishly.
Satisfaction flickered over his expression before that ruthless mask reasserted itself. His palm trailed up to cup the side of your jaw, thumb sweeping over your lower lip in a gesture that somehow felt more overtly profane than his earlier bruising embrace.
"Good girl. Secondly, you are to remain fully nude and available for inspection and use for the duration of your punishment. At any point I desire to revel you laid bare before me, you will comply without hesitation. Are we clear?"
Your blood turned to liquid fire at the dark promise, thighs clenching involuntarily even as you managed a strangled, "Yes, Sir..."
Kunikida's eyes glittered with undisguised approval and something infinitely more carnal. Another lascivious sweep of his thumb and then he was pressing even more insistently into your personal space, his height and bulk rendering you utterly dwarfed.
"Lastly," he uttered in a voice gone molten with depths of rough authority. "You are not to achieve any sort of completion or release without my express command. Doing so will only succeed in prolonging your disciplinary regimen...perhaps indefinitely."
The whispered threat made your knees buckle treacherously. You could only stare up at Kunikida with something akin to desperation, already entirely in his thrall. "Yes..." you choked out, beyond any semblance of defiance or impudence now. "Yes, Sir!"
A sensuous smile of dark promise curved Kunikida's lips as he drank in your naked, yearning avidity. "Then let's begin..."
With that, he closed the infinitesimal gap between your bodies, his large hands grasping to divest you of clothing as his mouth slanted over yours in a searing, claiming brand of possession and dominance.
You could only keen softly into the devouring onslaught, surrendering to the relentless force of Kunikida's unleashed ardor and discipline with desperate, helpless abandon.
Kunikida's hands continued their ruthless task of stripping you bare, leaving you flushed and exposed to the searing heat of his hungry gaze. But the moment your clothes lay a pile at your feet, his grip shifted to seize your wrists. In an instant, he had turned you both to pin you face-first against the wall.
"Now then..." His voice was a low rumble as his large palm trailed down your back to rest heavily on the curve of your backside. "Time to teach you what happens to those who flagrantly disobey and disregard direct orders."
The first smack of his palm landed without warning, making you jolt in surprise. The initial sting was followed by a blooming warmth and spreading sensation that sent shivers down your spine.
"One," he uttered, his hand massaging the sensitive area. "For missing that stakeout last week."
His palm struck again, harder this time, the impact forcing a breathless cry from your lips. "Two," he murmured, his fingers kneading the tender flesh with deliberate, cruel pressure. "For allowing that suspect to escape after being under strict surveillance."
"Three..." A third slap landed, sending ripples of heat and stinging pleasure-pain through you.
"Four..." The sound of your ragged gasps and Kunikida's low, hypnotic voice counted down each blow, making your skin run hot and flushed.
"Five..." Each impact left you feeling more lightheaded, the pain giving way to a pulsing ache of arousal that throbbed through you.
"Six..." Your legs trembled from the effort of keeping upright, and you couldn't contain the sharp moan that escaped as Kunikida's large, calloused palm delivered a punishing swat.
"Seven..." Kunikida's voice remained utterly calm and unwavering, as if the sight of your squirming and moaning in response to his harsh disciplinary measures was merely a formality.
"Eight..." Tears pricked your eyes, the pain of the strikes blurring with the overwhelming pleasure until it was nearly indistinguishable.
"Nine..." Your head tipped forward against the wall, unable to contain the soft whimpers escaping your lips.
"Ten."
The final slap was by far the hardest, and the most intense. It sent a flood of heat through you, the ache of pain mingling with a sharp spike of arousal. Kunikida's palms skimmed over the reddened, sensitive flesh, and a choked moan fell from your lips at the exquisite mixture of agony and need.
"Such a good girl, taking her punishment so well." Kunikida's low voice rumbled with approval, the heat of his chest suddenly pressed against your back. One hand curled around the front of your neck, his nose nudging against the shell of your ear.
"Now tell me..." His free hand slipped down the front of your body, his fingers delving between your trembling thighs. "How do you think I should punish this wanton little cunt for her brazen defiance?"
You whimpered and jerked against him, overwhelmed by the feeling of his fingers sliding through your slick heat. He seemed to be purposefully avoiding your throbbing clit, instead spreading the evidence of your arousal over your folds.
"Shall I fill you to the brim and use you as I see fit until I've had my fill?" Kunikida mused, his teeth lightly grazing your earlobe. "Or should I leave you wanting and desperate, bound and helpless as I indulge myself at my leisure?"
A shuddering gasp fell from your lips, and you couldn't help pushing back against him, grinding shamelessly into his touch. You were utterly overcome with desire and need, the pain of his earlier chastisement still lingering but no longer enough to satiate.
"P-please..." you pleaded, unable to control the needy rocking of your hips. "Please, I need--"
"No." The sudden bite of his voice made you freeze, the hand around your throat tightening slightly. "I've given you enough liberties as it is. Now you're going to beg me properly for the privilege of relief."
You swallowed hard, the pressure on your neck only serving to heighten your desperation. "Please..." you whispered, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable. "Please, I'll do anything, just--"
"Not good enough." Kunikida's fingers abruptly pulled away, and you barely stifled a needy whine. "Beg."
His command was punctuated with a firm swat to the side of your ass, the sting reigniting the dull ache from earlier. You yelped and bucked against him, and you could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh.
"P-please..." The word was torn from your throat, raw and pleading. "Please, I need to feel you inside me. Need you to fill me, fuck me, please..."
"Very good." There was a dark, pleased note in Kunikida's voice, and you shuddered in anticipation. His hand left your throat, only to tangle in your hair and yank your head back, exposing your neck.
"But first, one final lesson in obedience."
You barely had time to register his words before his lips descended on your throat, sucking and biting a dark bruise into your skin. You cried out, arching into his touch, your hips grinding against his as he marked you.
"Mine." The single word was uttered with such possessive certainty that it sent a thrill down your spine. His other hand grasped your hip, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise as he held you in place.
"Say it."
The command was accompanied by a sharp nip to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and you moaned shamelessly. "Yours," you breathed, the words tumbling from your lips without hesitation.
Kunikida's low growl of approval sent a shiver through you, and you could feel him shift behind you, his hands leaving your body for a moment.
"I want to see you."
The words were growled into your ear, his presence behind you disappearing for a moment. The next thing you knew, his large hands were gripping your waist, turning you to face him. He looked utterly wrecked, his eyes dark and pupils blown wide, his chest heaving and cheeks flushed.
It was a heady feeling, seeing such a usually composed, self-possessed man reduced to such a state of undone hunger. Especially because of you.
Your eyes dropped to his pants, which were straining around the impressive bulge of his erection. You licked your lips, suddenly overcome with the urge to taste him, to feel him fill your mouth as you knelt at his feet.
"Sir, may I--"
"No." His voice was hard and firm, his eyes flashing with dangerous heat. "You are not in a position to make demands or requests right now."
A wave of defiance washed through you, and you bit your lip, unable to resist a parting shot. "Then perhaps I should simply find another way to entertain myself while you get yourself together, sir."
A low, feral sound tore from Kunikida's throat, and before you could react, his hands were gripping your waist, tossing you unceremoniously onto his desk. Papers went flying, and you had just enough time to prop yourself up on your elbows before his hands were pinning you in place.
"Do not," he hissed, his face mere inches from yours. "Test me right now."
Your breath hitched, a flush of heat going through you at the intensity of his gaze. His lips crashed over yours in a rough, claiming kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, arching against him, desperate for friction.
He seemed just as impatient, his hands leaving your wrists to slide down your body, his fingers finally - blessedly - finding your clit. You broke the kiss, gasping as he stroked you, circling your clit and spreading the wetness gathering at your entrance.
"Fuck, you're soaking," he muttered, his eyes darkening as he watched you writhe beneath him. "You really do enjoy this, don't you? Being put in your place, taken apart by my authority."
His fingers dipped lower, teasing at your entrance, and you whined. "P-please," you gasped, grinding against his hand. "Please, I need--"
"You need me to fill you, don't you?" He rumbled, the tip of his finger sinking into you. "Need to feel me inside you, stretching you, fucking you."
You could only moan in response, the ache in your core growing unbearable. His fingers were driving you crazy, the way he kept just brushing against your g-spot but never quite pressing fully inside. It was maddening, and you could feel your arousal growing with each passing second.
"Well, since you've been such a good girl and taken your punishment so well," he murmured, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit, "Perhaps I'll give you a little reward."
With that, he pulled away, and you bit back a groan of frustration. But then you saw him unbuttoning his pants, the sight making your mouth go dry. You couldn't tear your eyes away as he pulled his cock free, stroking himself as he looked down at you.
"Spread your legs."
His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. You obeyed immediately, parting your thighs as he moved to stand between them. His hands were on your hips, pulling you toward the edge of the desk, and you could feel the head of his cock brushing against your entrance.
"Look at me."
You did, meeting his eyes as he slowly pushed into you, inch by torturous inch. Your head fell back, and you moaned as he stretched you, filling you to the brim. He was big, and you could feel your inner walls fluttering around him, adjusting to his size.
He was watching you intently, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, flushed and needy, spread out on his desk. He began to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back into you, his pace steady and firm. You moaned, clutching at the edge of the desk as he fucked you, the delicious stretch and friction making you dizzy with pleasure.
"You feel so good, taking my cock so well," he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he increased his pace. "You're such a good girl, letting me fill you up like this."
His words made a flush of heat go through you, and you clenched around him, earning a low groan from him. He was hitting all the right spots, the angle allowing him to reach deeper inside you.
"God, the things I want to do to you..." His voice was low and rough, his gaze dark with arousal. "I could keep you like this, desperate and aching for me, for hours. Just waiting to be used and filled as I see fit."
His fingers slid down your thigh, finding your clit again and making you jerk against him. You were so close, the tension coiling in your core with each thrust of his hips.
"And the next time you try to defy my orders, I'm going to tie you down and have my way with you until you're begging for release. Maybe even put a vibrator on that pretty little clit of yours and make you ride it until you're screaming my name."
You whimpered, the image his words conjured making your inner walls tighten around him. His thrusts were becoming more erratic, and you could tell he was getting close. You were right on the edge, the tension building inside you with each passing second.
"Now come."
His voice was a command, and you could no more disobey it than stop breathing. Your climax crashed over you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. You were vaguely aware of his fingers digging into your hips as he fucked you through your orgasm, his thrusts growing frantic before he stilled, spilling inside you with a low groan.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was your ragged breathing as you both came down from your high. You were still trying to catch your breath when Kunikida spoke, his voice quiet and steady.
"I hope this will serve as a sufficient reminder for you to obey my orders in the future."
You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, the corner of your mouth twitching upward.
"Perhaps we should repeat the lesson a few more times, sir, just to be certain I remember."
His expression was unreadable, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes as he regarded you.
"As you wish, my dear."
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castielmacleod · 2 years
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Remember when Cas watched Dean rake leaves while invisible. Not to be dark but in my head he did that while Dean was on the nail. And just let himself watch it happen.
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cheekblush · 1 year
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this week has been absolutely awful and it's only thursday 🥲
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
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How they’d react to you not kissing/hugging him before leaving for a mission…
Dick acts as though you told him his ass isn’t that fat in his spandex suit-
He’s insulted.
You always, always remember to kiss his cheek before he leaves. His ‘good luck, be safe and kick ass’ cheek kiss!
It’s your thing as a couple! Do you want to see him cry because he fucking will! He’ll do it!
Dick will pout, huff and whine loud as possible in hopes that you’d realise your error and rectify it tenfold. He won’t tell you what’s wrong. No, he wants and expects you to figure it out for yourself, which doesn’t get him anywhere when you’re looking at him confused and lost as to what he was whining about; Literally.
His mood will be down for the entirety of the day and you’ll no doubt have texts from his teammates and family members asking what was wrong with Dick to look so down.
You’re just as confused as them seeing as how Dick didn’t disclose his innermost thoughts and feelings to you despite being his partner, so you were at a loss on how to help them with something even you weren’t privy to knowing…it’s probably one of your biggest issues as a couple but that’s for another time.
Dick will do that pathetic thing where he looks back at you expectantly the closer he gets towards the door, even going so far as to walk extremely slow when he was within reaching distance of the door handle as to buy you enough time to notice before he genuinely had to leave.
When you don’t however, Dick acts like a kicked puppy for the rest of the day and will proceed to exaggerate to anyone with ears about how his lover was restricting him of his affection.
On the other hand, If you do manage to remember to give him a good luck kiss, planting an extra one on his other cheek for extra, extra luck. Dick will have a permanent smile on his face that will not go the fuck away, even when he’s beating someone’s ass, the smile remains glued on his face as though with gorilla glue.
Seeing Dick brutally beat someone’s ass with a smile was horrifying for anyone to witness but it’s okay bc he’s happy that you remembered to kiss him good luck.
Jason will immediately call you out on your bullshit.
And by that I mean cross his arms over his chest and stare at you saying. ‘Well?’
And you’re like: ‘well what?’
And he’s like: ‘where’s my good luck kiss that you owe me? Roy is waiting on me and here I am waiting on my kiss, so give me my kiss chipmunk.’
Jason doesn’t piss about and gets to the meat of the issue at hand. He wants his good luck kisses and he wants them now and he will not leave the apartment until he gets them.
You’d raise a brow at his not so subtle neediness for your affection and decided to tease him. ‘I thought you didn’t need my good luck kisses remember? You’re a big boy who can fight with or without my good luck kisses.’
Jason groans, not expecting you to pull that out. ‘I said that one time. One time and I was being a dick back then too because all you wanted to do was show me that you cared about me and didn’t want me to get hurt.’
You smiled and got up from the couch and walked over to him, resting your hands on his biceps. ‘So now that you admit that you were a dick and the way that you acted was wrong…’ you trailed off as you pressed a kiss to his lips once, twice, three times because you loved to kiss Jason whenever possible and will try to plant as many kisses as you could.
‘Thanks chipmunk.’ Jason murmurs against your lips, feeling everything has gone back to being right again. ‘Now I better be off or Roy will tease me for lingering too long-‘
‘Too late.’ Roy said from the doorway and Jason closed his eyes and silently curse while you smiled and waved at Roy. ‘Hi Roy!’ You said. ‘Hi y/n, mind letting Jason come out to play?’ Roy joked. You played along by making a thoughtful face as Jason mutters under his breath; ‘are you being serious right now?’
You snapped your fingers. ‘As long as you make sure Jason doesn’t get into trouble then yes, he may go out and play.’
‘I hate you both.’ Jason groaned as he walked past you and playfully shoved Roy aside to leave the apartment. Roy then cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted after him. ‘Are you sure you don’t want your goodbye kisses?’ You and Roy laugh together upon hearing Jason cursing him out from a distance.
Damian acts indifferent about it.
He doesn’t need a good luck hug, hell! he doesn’t need luck at all!
He’s skilled enough to win any fight without relying on something silly as Luck. Luck was just probability under a different name and definition. (A/n: Don’t quote me on that.)
So when you forget to give him a hug before a mission, Damian doesn’t think anything of it but it will linger in his mind unnecessarily much to his annoyance.
Why was he so hung up on not getting something a silly as a hug? Or was he instead more upset over the fact that you, his closest friend/partner, completely forgot about it as though it wasn’t anything worth remembering.
Either way he was conflicted and didn’t know how to go about saying any of this to you without getting frustrated over his apparent loss for words. He was a man of action more then anything so when he finally catches up to you, he will stride towards you and stop just a couple of inches and silently stare at you with his resting bitch face.
‘Damian?’ You asked. ‘Are you okay?’
Damian doesn’t say anything because he couldn’t think of anything to say in that moment and instead stays silent as to save himself from further embarrassment.
‘Damian?’ You asked again, getting worried over his unusual silence. ‘I can’t help you if you don’t tell me-‘ before you could finish your sentence, Damian had lunged towards you and brought you into a very tight hug. You smile softly and gladly hugged Damian back, not saying a single word other then;
‘You don’t need me to say it but I’ll reaffirm it anyway, you’ll do great out there Dami. I know you will.’
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thegnomelord · 5 months
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this isn’t a request but you’re the only writer i know who writes the monster!au so
dragon!reader and dragon!price are haunting my thoughts. dragons usually have to hold themselves back when sparring because they’re so much stronger than other monsters but with price & reader they don’t need to, to the point where the other members of the 141 are kinda wondering if they need to intervene.
what they do or don’t know is this is you and price courting, testing each other’s strength to assess whether you’re suitable mates. once you have decided you’re suitable it continues in the bedroom, fighting for dominance and testing each other’s stamina as price rides you or you pin price down and see if he can take all the strength behind your thrusts.
OH god I LOVE the way you think! I know @rodolfoparras also did a dragon price some time ago but I'm happy to let my monsterfucker out lol :D I'll consider this a spitball thingy but GOD DAMN did my hyperfixation hyperfixate on this :Ddd kinda rushed at the end but it's 3AM :/
CW:NSFW
What about if dragons measure not just raw strength, but all other aspects as well? They're prideful by nature and with so little of them remaining no self-respecting dragon will settle for a witless brute or a powerless scribe.
Price had lost hope in finding a mate centuries ago because he's even pickier than most of his kin; in his view, a proper one needs to be strong enough to completely pin him down, needs to be smart enough to see the insults in his honeyed words and give back as good as he does, needs to be clever enough to lead men as good as he does.
A proper mate needs to keep up with him on all levels.
And for a dragon of his age, that's an unachievable set of criteria. Oh sure, many of the dragons he's met over the years have tried to match him, but all fell short, leaving him lonely and unsatisfied.
Then he met you, a fellow Captain, a fellow dragon. Though only a few centuries younger than him, you're a wyrmling in his eyes, your scales like shining metal compared to his muddled gemstones. An arrogant wyrmling if the way you peacock for him the first time you enter the training room has anything to say about it— your wings spreading out and muscles rippling, back straightening out to make you taller, scales glinting in the artificial light; little details that anyone else can brush off as a simple stretch but to a dragon it screams of your interest in him.
His slitted eyes roam across your body, both equal parts disdain and curiosity. "Got somethin' ta say there boy?" His words are rough like sandpaper.
"No, no." You hum as you get into the ring, every little movement purposely done to showcase your hard earned musculature. "Just that you should skip out on this fight. Wouldn't want you to throw your back out old man."
"Old man huh?" His eyes blaze with the same fire at the end of his cigar, your words igniting something in his chest that had long been extinguished. "I'll show you old."
And suddenly he's in the ring, both of you trading blow for blow with the same savagery your progenitors had frightened mankind with for millennia, your claws leaving deep grooves in the concrete when you miss his side, his tail smashing a portion of the ground into dust when you avoid it, the ground between you cracking when you try to push the other away, loose scales and dust and debris littering the ground as you and Price wrestle on the ground.
Both of your teams watch from the sidelines, your team calming the other members of TF141 that this is just how dragons are, pointedly ignoring your victorious snarl when you pin Price down to the ground, your clawed hand harshly pushing his face into the concrete to the point you might break his nose as you bite the back of his neck, forcing him to submit. "I win,"
"Not fer long." He snarls back just as deep, feeling alive for the first time in who knows how long. "Best two out of three." And with that he jerks, remaining wing slamming into your side and knocking you off balance long enough for him to fling you into the wall opposite of him.
You don't know how many rounds you go before you're forced to stop by a very pissed off Laswell, who also pointedly ignores the obvious bulges in what remains of both of your pants, giving both of you a stern talking to about wrecking the damn training room.
You're ready to leave after being chastised like a child but Price is quicker, passing you with a "Good fight back there." rumbling in his throat, the soft scales of his wing brushing along your jaw. Your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you meet his gaze, and Price has a good poker face but the smoldering look in his eyes and the low grumble in his chest makes it's obvious you've peaked his curiosity.
But that's just the start, the hard part is keeping it. While regular dragons may spend time with a potential mate conversing on scholarly subjects or having philosophical debates, you and him have a more practical way of assessing the other's intellect — Battle plans.
To your teams it sounds like a harsh argument, ideas thrown around and sharp insults tacked on top, their heads ping ponging between you and Price as you look over maps, trying to one up the other. Eventually your teammates leave you to settle this on your own.
"And I'm telling you, old man," You growl, both of you so close there's barely any space between you as you point at the map. "We can push a smaller team through the forest while we lead the frontal assault, our wip's not going to have anywhere to go then." You huff, holding your head up high to make it obvious you're proud of your idea.
Price gives you the stink eye, before he scans the map again, humming to himself. After a few seconds he lets out a scoff. "We don't have enough men for that." He says, but the sharp edge in his tone is dulled. "But—" His tail moves to brush against your own, your rough scales brushing against his smoother ones. "—It has some merit."
Price doesn't draw attention to the way your tails intertwine, wrapping together like two snakes, and neither do you. But the short purr that bubbles out of your chest says everything he needs to know, growing louder when he answers with his own, your shoulders brushing together. "Aight, back to work." He cuts your purrs short, but you can't hide the pleased look on your face as your tails remain coiled together.
Then comes the actual courting dance.
One late evening spent looking over documents in the privacy of his office, your tails once again coiled beneath the desk after successfully having proved your wit to him again, absentmindedly telling embarrassing stories of your respective teams. . . Price has a revelation. You might be it. "Hey lad."
You look up, your full attention on him. "Yeah?"
With a mumbled grunt too quiet for you to hear Price slides a hand beneath his shirt and pulls a large green scale from the meat of his shoulder blade, the wound healing before it can even bleed.
Instinctively you know what this means, for knowing how a prospective mate treats an extension of you will show how they'll treat you. But you still speak up, needing proof for your own mind that you're not insane and haven't been burning the wrong tree. "What?"
Price glares at you, "Don't play dumb," He says as he slides the large scale across the table to you. "It doesn't suit you." There's an underlayer of heat in his words, blue slitted eyes looking you over in a much more appreciative light.
You can't control the big grin that spreads across your face, "Oh, then what does suit me?" You ask as you follow his lead, yanking out one of your larger scales from your own back and sliding it to him. It makes the difference between you two obvious, his green scale muddled with age compared to your shiny one.
"Arrogant muppet." The gentle way he picks up your scale clashes with his harsh words, cradling it in his hand like it'll crack at the slightest of touches, his face reflected in the surface.
You grin, "Just confident." You feel his sharp eyes judge every minute twitch of your fingers as you pick up his scale. Price's poker face hides the way his heart melts at the loving way you brush a thumb across the surface, how it throbs when you don't immediately attempt to make it shine like some whelps once did, accepting him for how he is by putting it in your breast pocket.
God, he doesn't even know how much he'd fantasized about something like this when he was still young, vestiges of a purr escaping his throat at the tender way you treat his scale. "Right." He shakes his head and places your scale in his own breast pocket, handing you another stack of papers. "Get back to work."
You grin and do as he says, wings twitching as a sign of joy, your tail squeezing down on his and receiving a squeeze in kind.
Price feels like a horny teen when he lays awake in bed late at night with your scale held between his claws. He feels stupid for feeling so giddy at the thought of having a mate, a proper mate, yet his body thinks differently. Just holding it in his hand is enough to make him grow hot, your scent still clings to the scale and Price finds himself holding it close to his nose to familiarize himself with it and Hell his body loves it, cocks growing hard in record time and his thighs wet with slick. The poor thing doesn't even know what to relieve first, his free hand constantly going between stroking his cocks and fingering himself, mind craving the heat of another dragon that he'd been deprived of.
What Price doesn't know is that you're in the same boat, biting your arm to silence yourself as you imagine it's Price you're breeding instead of a pillow, splintering the headboard from how hard you're gripping it in an attempt to not damage the scale.
Then shit hits the fan when during a routine mission you two are ambushed, and while two dragons are no easy prey for mankind, humans have long since gone from using rocks and sticks. You catch sight of a sniper's scope glint seconds before the bullet targets Price, and in only a few seconds to think you throw yourself in the way, Price's scale in your breast pocket puts enough resistance to make you survive the bullet, but you feel it crack, and that. . . that sets you off.
Price doesn't even have the time to lift his gun before you're tearing through the battlefield like a man possessed, anger burning like a volcano in your chest for trying to hurt him, elemental breath and draconic strength unleashed to it's fullest potential.
And Price? Price watches the show with that same heat burning in his belly, forced to bite his lip to silence the pleased purrs as he rubs his thighs together while you tear flesh from bone, mate flashing in his mind. Look how he protects you His mind purrs, Good mate. Perfect mate.
"I'm sorry." You whimper when you've finally calmed down, the battlefield nothing but a ruined crater and the shards of his scale held tenderly in your cupped hands. "I failed, I-"
"Come here." Price cuts you off quickly and pulls you down into a harsh and desperate kiss, all teeth and tongue and need. He parts just a fraction of an inch, "You passed." He growls and only then do you notice the sharp arousal in his scent, your animalistic hindbrain jumping for joy as you kiss back because holy shit he considers you worthy.
And now that he's found his mate? You best believe his body is going to make up for all the centuries he'd spent alone.
It doesn't even take a week for him to enter heat, waking in a daze with his twin cocks hard and his thighs glistening with slick, your scent lingering in the sheets and your side of the bed still warm. The walls almost shake from how deeply he growls when he registers that you're not next to him, just enough sense in his head to throw on a towel around his waist before angerly stomping through the halls to find you, sniffing you out like a bloodhoud.
"Bloody muppet." Price growls as he yanks you by the horns back to his room, the scent of his arousal so potent you're struck dumb, letting yourself be pushed down. Price's claws slice through your clothes, his hole so slick and eager for you he doesn't even need to stretch, just jumps onto your lap and in one fluid motion takes one of your cocks to the root. "Fuckin' finally." Price hisses, instantly setting a harsh pace of bouncing on your cock that would have had a lesser race end up with a crushed pelvis.
You grip his hips for dear life, surging up to mark his neck and shoulders with bites as he does the same, his ass clapping against your thighs. "Mate." Price moans, hole clenching around you, his cocks leaking against your stomach. "My mate." He grips your hair and pulls you into a bruising kiss, "Going to last long for me yeah?" He asks, a bit of mockery on his flushed face as he feels you cum inside him, riding you through your orgasm as the sudden onslaught of sensations frazzles the intelligent parts of your brain. "Not going to disappoint me now are you?"
Good thing dragons have really short refractory periods.
"Not a chance." You snarl and flip him over suddenly, rumbling purrs escaping your chest from the surprised sound he makes. You attempt to pin him down and he squirms out of your hold, another bout of wrestling breaking out between you that has you two tumbling off the bed and onto the ground.
"That so whelp?" Price breathes out when you manage to pin him down, your strong hand keeping his face flush with the floor. "Do you really think you can keep up?" A pleased thrill runs down his spine from the sensation of your weight bearing down on him, his knees automatically locking up to hike his ass up, tail flipping up to display his slick hole for you.
"Do you?" You counter, one hand on his head, the other pressing both of your dicks together, your two tips pressing against his ass. "You're so wet and desperate, should have just pinned you down the moment I saw you instead of courting you." With one sharp thrust you push in, a pained and elated moan tearing out of his throat at the sensation of your twin cocks spreading him wider than any toy ever could, scratching that itch he'd had for who knows how long.
The stretch and burn and pleasure muddles his mind, reduces him to low animalistic snarls and growls as he does his best to push his hips into yours. "Hurry the fuck up." Price orders, whole body shaking from the way you set a harsh pace, bashing on his prostate, your balls slapping against his own, each hard thrust pushing and pulling his face across the floor. "I'll- fuck- fall asleep."
"You sure about that?" You push your weight further on him, forcing his wing to spread out, your own partially wrapping around him, "Seems to me like-" A bit of elemental breath leaves your throat when one particularly strong thrust has his hole clamping down on you, his back arching to push his hips as close to yours as one of his cocks spews cum on the floor, "-like you're not in a place to order me around."
"You- ah-fuck-ah- wanker." His insult would be a lot more hurtful if he didn't whine like a bitch in heat, both of you devolving into primitive snarls and growls with the only thought on both of your minds being the need to fill Price with as much of your cum as you physically can.
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ozzgin · 3 months
Note
Hii I was wondering if u could do a yandere Kazuya x yn x yandere Daitou I’m not sure if u do character x yn x character tho
Yandere! Yakuza x Reader Spinoff
Two yakuza men who have fallen in love with their new foreign tenant. A what-if spinoff to the original story for that love triangle spice. Happy Valentine's Day!
Content: female reader, NSFW, organized crime, obsessive behavior, violence, BDSM themes (choking), threats
Credits: My boyfriend for giving me the Daitou smut idea
[Main Story] [General Headcanons]
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Kazuya is sitting on the sidewalk, checking his watch occasionally and tapping his foot. The cigarette seems to have been forgotten, hanging lowly from his lips.
"Sorry I'm late." Daitou speedily makes his way towards his friend, smiling awkwardly.
"Where the fuck were you, man? We don't know how much time we have before the cops arrive."
"Uh uh, leave it to me." The cheeky grin doesn't leave his face as he pulls out his gun and carefully but swiftly inspects the barrel and safety one final time. "(Y/N) needed some help with the mailbox. I couldn't just say no, ya know?"
The blonde man's eyebrows raise for a second, but he quickly recollects himself.
"I see. That's good."
"She asked me to show her the area tomorrow, so I'll be working extra hard tonight. Hehe."
"That's good."
Daitou glances at Kazuya, somewhat wary.
"You okay?"
Stupid question. What's he supposed to answer? Yeah, he loves waiting like a dumbass while his friend flirts with the new tenant, who conveniently happens to be a cute foreigner, who's been unexpectedly nice and relaxed around them despite them explicitly stating they're part of the Japanese mafia. Fucking hell. It doesn't help that this idiot is as obvious as a blaring, blinding cluster of ads smack in the middle of Kabukicho. He can tell from miles away that Daitou's completely fallen for her. Just like that, in an instant.
They've been partners and best friends for years now, so the natural reaction would be happiness, right? Daitou has always been one scary motherfucker. Even the seniors scramble when he's in the room, let alone women. For him to find someone that isn't bothered the slightest by his appearance or background should be a celebratory occasion. Kazuya should be rooting for him. Except, well, he fell for you just as hard. Tough luck.
The Bushido moral code, often used as guidance within their own lifestyle, covers matters such as loyalty and honesty quite extensively. A true warrior remains fiercely faithful to his master or companions. And yet, love interests are more of a grey area, especially if they happen to overlap. Who dictates the proper etiquette for this dilemma? To whom is loyalty directed towards? Truth be told, Kazuya couldn’t care less. He’s always been a man of vice, impulsive and greedy. If he wants something, he takes it.
The trouble starts when the other person is of the same mindset. Two ferocious predators eyeing the same victim.
***
You fiddle next to the tall, dark-haired man. Similarly, Daitou is avoiding eye contact, looking around in hopes of finding something to focus on. It’s the first time he’s come over since the incident. After his little mission with Kazuya, he was tasked to “interrogate” some of the remaining members to get even more names for the hitlist. He’d completely forgotten about his promise to show you the neighborhood. Hands sticky with blood, he was in the middle of his signature act of benevolence, putting the lad out of his misery.
It was around that time you decided to be the one picking him up instead, for your grand tour. Your knocks on the door remained unheard, however, so you decided to politely make your way in.
“Sorry, I hope I’m not-”
You froze in place. A man (you assumed at least based on the few visible traits left), tied up on the chair, canvas bag roped around his head. Daitou’s hands were secured around his throat. In the few seconds of silence, you could hear a muffled wheezing, as the stranger’s chest heaved in short convulsions.
“-intruding.” You mumbled, regaining your speech.
He messed up, didn’t he? Daitou sighs and slicks his hair back. He can’t blame you if you’re now terrified of him. He had to come over for some tenant checkups and you’ve been maintaining a safe distance from him during his entire visit. What can he possibly tell you? “Hey, I know I threatened to chop you up and you’ve now witnessed firsthand I’m a legit murderer, but, uh…I have a crush on you? Dinner at seven?”
You’re terrified alright, but not of his deeds. Rather, your newly discovered perversion as a consequence of the gory scene. It’s not that you relished in the torment of another. It’s the other details that left you reminiscing. Daitou’s imposing frame, the unbuttoned shirt revealing his traditional tattoos glistening in beads of sweat, his flexed, brawny arms, and large hands. You’re scared of your shamelessness. It can’t be normal. Yet you can’t stop thinking about it. Just a glimpse into this memory and your cheeks become burning red.
“I’ll be on my way then”, the yakuza announces politely.
Though he immediately stops in his tracks, and you realize you’ve unconsciously grabbed onto his sleeve. Uh oh. What now? You mumble an apology without releasing your hold. Being this close to him makes your heart drum inside your chest.
To hell with it.
“I might say something terribly inappropriate right now, but…”
“Sorry?” He stares at you, dumbfounded.
“Do you have anything planned after this?” You ask quietly.
“N-no?”
“Would you mind staying over?”
“Huh? Sure…w-what for?” His mouth is dry, and he searches your eyes in confusion.
“You know…” Choke me until I pass out and such, you think to yourself sarcastically.
He turns to face you, lips pursed awkwardly.
“You’ll have to be clear with me, Miss (Y/N). I’m not good with all this tiptoeing around and I might get the wrong idea.”
Your ears perk up hearing his final words, a deep blush now spreading over your flustered features.
“What wrong idea?”
Daitou fidgets with his glass prosthetic nervously.
“Well, uh, a man can only dream, ya know? Especially around a cute girl like you.” He reveals with a stutter.
“Suppose I’d be willing to go along with anything on your mind. What then?” You twirl your hair, gazing shyly at the floor. Not even you can believe the audacity leaving your lips.
The tall man steps before you, towering above with a certain gleam in his eye. It’s yearning. Your knees weaken.
“Don’t tease me, please. I can hardly control myself around you as it is.”
You release his sleeve and instead cling onto his shirt with both hands, looking up through your lashes.
“I’m dead serious.”
He ponders his next move with a click of the tongue, then cups your cheeks between his hands and lowers himself until his hot breath tickles your nose.
“Are you? There’s no going back after this. Can you handle it?” His voice is suddenly deeper, raspier.
Before you can respond, you feel yourself lifted and you yelp, surprised, instinctively wrapping your limbs around the yakuza. In between the greedy kisses that leave your lips bruised and swollen, you don’t notice the movement back towards the seating area.
As you pull away to gasp for air, he throws you onto the couch, flipping you over in the process so that you’re kneeling away from him. Your nails dig into the soft fabric of the sofa. You hear Daitou unbuckle his belt and you squeeze your legs together, heavily aroused. He presses his palm gently into your back, arching it. You sense his fingers grazing over your core and you whimper.
“G-go on, please.” You beg, swaying your hips tentatively. “I really can’t wait anymore.”
“As you wish, Miss.” He reassures you with a grin.
He adjusts himself and carefully makes his way in. You don’t have time to enjoy the feeling; following almost instantly is his belt looped around your neck, tightening under his grip as he pulls the ends towards him. Your head is forced back, and you groan. You can hear the leather stretch and creak over your assaulted skin, the constriction briefly cutting your oxygen intake. Hot drool trickles down your chin and your eyes almost roll back in pleasure.
“Look at my little Miss (Y/N), taking it like a champion.” He bends over and bites your earlobe playfully. “Does that mean I can be as rough as I want?”
You nod erratically.
The grip around your throat intensifies and your vision becomes blurry.
“Hey, don’t pass out now.” He inserts two fingers in your mouth, pulling you by the cheek and tilting your head to look him in the eye. “Not before you show me that you understand your situation. You’re mine. Is that clear?”
He drags his fingers downwards, aiding your response as you struggle to contract your muscles.
“Attagirl.” He concludes, satisfied.
In the morning you wake up with a dreadful soreness, and you can quickly see why. Your body is peppered in bruises. Daitou is smoking by the window and promptly flicks his cigarette out once he realizes you’re no longer asleep.
“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” He begins, remorseful, and squats in front of the bed. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
“I will need a day or two to recover before the next time, but otherwise I’m fine.”
He beams with delight upon registering your words: next time. You can’t help but snicker at his childish enthusiasm. It’s a mystery how Daitou can switch between ruthless killer and cute partner with such ease.
Although it’s no secret, really. It’s you.
***
“Thanks for driving me home, Kazuya.”
You smile and unbuckle your seatbelt, reaching for the door handle. Daitou has been busy with work for the past days, so Kazuya took his place in looking after your needs.
“Huh?” You rattle the grab handle one more time to make sure. “It’s still locked.”
The blonde raps the wheel impatiently with his fingers. Is he to silently accept his loss? Does it even count as a loss when he hasn’t even had the chance to present his piece? Daitou has been quiet about it, but he can read that bastard like an open book. Something definitely happened between the two of you and the mere thought drives him insane.
Ah, this is so unlike him. There are few things he cares about. His pride, his Family’s honor, his freedom. Women aren’t exactly on that list, yet somehow, you’ve snuck your way to the very top of priorities and he’s realizing it just now. It’s becoming harder to ignore his maddening urge to have you. Out of all the things…He’d give Daitou the world. But not you. He can’t. He can’t.
“Kazuya? Are you listening? You forgot to unlock the door.”
“Say, (Y/N) …ever fucked in a car before?”
“What?” You ask, baffled.
“Come here for a moment.” He swiftly slides his seat all the way back and pats his thigh.
“Are you out of your mind?”
He answers your inquiry by pulling out his handgun and lazily pointing it towards you.
“I’m only going to ask once.”
You clumsily climb over the center console, straddling the yakuza with a slight pout.
“Someone’s in a sour mood, that’s for sure”, you complain. “It’s not even loaded.”
“Even I’m not crazy enough to risk shooting my Princess.” He smiles apologetically, throwing the gun on the backseat. “I thought it’d be more threatening that way.”
He removes a strand of hair from your face, gazing at you intently. His hand lingers for a second, before sliding its way down, tracing the side of your body. You shiver.
“Can you truly blame me when there’s such a pretty girl right before my eyes?” The blonde exhales and focuses on your shirt instead. “Won’t you let me prove myself?”
From this distance, despite the dim lights, you can discern his features in agonizing detail. His long lashes, his fleshy lips, currently parted, the luscious locks of hair casually thrown back. Kazuya has always been effortlessly handsome. It’s not just his good looks, but his overflowing charisma. He always knows exactly what to say and do. A devilish power to have over people, and you’re presently his victim.
His slender fingers play with your first button and cheekily undo it. You can only observe it, entranced. Your legs are weak, and your arms are stuck in place, resting limply over his broad shoulders.
“May I?” He glances up at you with a pleading expression. “I won’t be able to hold back afterwards.”
You bite your lower lip, distracted. Whether or not this is a wise choice, you can’t currently tell. You squirm in his lap and suddenly feel the pressure coming from below.
“Go ahead.” You finally confess.
He doesn’t hesitate and slithers his hand underneath your shirt, popping the rest of the buttons open. Like a hungry animal that has stumbled upon a feast, he sinks his teeth into your neck, leaving mean, wet kisses on his way down.
One hand is greedily kneading your curves, encouraged by your soft whimpers, while the other strokes your thigh in anticipation. With a bit of readjustment, he finds the right spot between your trembling legs. You jolt at the sensation of his cold fingers.
“My, you’re already dripping. How lewd.” He whispers between breaths. “Do you want it now?”
He nonchalantly slips out and undoes his own pants. You lift yourself expectantly and let a moan escape your lips upon feeling the erection throbbing right below.
“Well then, can’t forget our manners, can we?” He announces, visibly excited. “What should I do?”
You glare at him, feverish.
“Stop teasing me.”
“Come on, be a good girl. Tell me what to do and I will do it, Love.”
Why, this…You lower yourself to his ear and answer in a lulled whine.
“Isn’t it obvious? I want you to fuck me.”
Words enough to send the blonde man over the edge. He abruptly clutches your thighs for support, easing himself in before continuing with increasingly aggressive thrusts. Husky whimpers roll out of his mouth, desperate and starved.
“Oh, I’ve waited so long for this. My darling, perfect little (Y/N).” He presses his forehead into your chest, indulging in the moment. “Now say that you’re mine. Please. Please say it.”
“I’m…ah…I’m all yours, Kazuya.” You manage to blurt out, growing dizzy.
“That’s my girl. Such a good girl.”
Once the deed is finished, you flop your head over his chest, trying to catch your breath. Kazuya smoothens your clothes meticulously, holding you with one arm for support. Can’t leave a lady all disheveled, after all.
“Won’t Daitou be upset?” You point out, somewhat anxiously.
His muscles are tense for a second and he furrows his brows.
“That’s one strange way to thank me for making you come at least twice. Mentioning another man’s name.”
“I’m just…” your words trail off.
“What? Worried? You think I can’t handle it or something?”
Far from the truth. Both Kazuya and Daitou are violent, dangerous men. Given their stubbornness, you’re rather certain they’d end up killing each other. Not your favorite outcome.
“I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”
He sighs loudly.
“I’ll tell you what. Under normal circumstances, I’d probably dismember whoever had the guts to even entertain the idea of meddling with you. But…just because it’s Daitou, I might be willing to share. Nothing more than that.”
Kazuya ruffles your hair and chuckles.
“Aren’t you glad I’m such a diplomat, Love?”
“More like batshit crazy, both of you.” You retort, stretching.
1K notes · View notes
skzstannie · 4 months
Note
Hii it’s okay if you can’t but I was wondering if you could do a skz x 9th member reader where she was in a car crash as well as the others? But she was badly injured as well and had to be looked after by chan because she wasn’t in good condition? Totally okay if you can’t thanks❤️
"You're awake!"
SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member!reader (Chan-centric)
genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~3,200 cw: some cussing, car accident, reader and skz get hurt
summary: ^^ see request
A/N: Hello! Not super happy with how this came out, but I hope you still like it anon! Started a new semester, so updates will be less frequent, but I'll still be lurking in everyone's feed through likes and reblogs 👀
Masterlist | Happy Scrolling!
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"I'm just saying, if penguin's could fly, I think they'd take over the world."
"Felix, literally what are you talking about?" you give him a strange look from where you're seated diagonal from him in the car.
"If penguins ever learned to fly, I think they'd try to overthrow the government in a vengeful fury."
You all sit in silence for a moment, trying to preserve the last of your braincells from deteriorating.
"Okay..." Seungmin responds, quirking his eyebrow at him.
"I am so excited for tonight!" you break the silence that settles, practically vibrating in your seat from the excitement.
"We know, you haven't stopped talking about it," Minho boredly comments, his phone lighting up his face from the shadowy back seat.
Jeongin throws an elbow in his side from where he's seated beside him, earning himself a nasty glare from the man. "Don't be mean to Ynnie, she's just excited to perform."
"I'm so sorry. Let me rephrase that," he clears his throat, setting his phone down in his lap, "Oh my gosh, I know! It's all you've talked about since this morning!" he squeaks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," you mumble, rolling your eyes at your grumpy member.
Before Minho has the chance to respond, your entire world is shaken when another car T-bones you from the right.
Time seems to slow down as the car is flipped, sending you out of your seat towards the ceiling of the car. Your seatbelt manages to control some of the damage to your head, but it slices into your neck from the pressure. Blood starts to drip out of your wound, but you don't even feel it as your hazy gaze travels over to your members.
Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes land on Felix's still body in the back seat, his eyelids draped shut. He doesn't appear to have any other injuries, but you're immediately ripped away from the sight of Felix when you hear Minho groan in pain. You Jeongin a quick once over, and upon seeing no visible injuries, keep your eyes moving. You don't miss the way Jeongin's hands are firmly grasped around Felix's forearm as he shakes the older man, trying to wake him.
It's painful to twist in your seat, but you do so anyway. Catching a glimpse of Minho, you see a jagged piece of glass protruding out of his forearm. It appears small, but you know it must still hurt like a bitch. Other than that he looks okay, so you continue to look over your remaining members. His eyes are panicked as he frantically looks over the four of you. "You guys ok?" his voice shakes with fear, and his teeth are clenched from the pain radiating from the glass in his arm.
The ringing in your ears starts to subside a bit, and the grunts coming from your right get louder. Seungmin's arm is twisted at an unnatural angle, and there's blood dripping from his left eyebrow. You can't bring yourself to answer Minho, the shock still clouding your mind.
As the rest of your senses start to come back to you, your focus remains on Seungmin as he huffs in pain. You feel a stinging sensation in your thigh, but as you slowly start to drop your head to look, you feel a shaky finger reach under your chin.
Seungmin's reached his hand out, gently pulling your chin until your eyes meet his again.
"Just keep looking at me, Yn," he whispers. You do as you're told, but the pain is worsening by the second, and your breathing starts to quicken.
All else is tuned out as your eyes remain on Seungmin's unwavering gaze.
Seconds feel like hours as you sit there in the car. Your eyelids start to become heavy, and you fuzzily catch Seungmin's eyes turn frantic as your blinks become slower and more frequent.
"Just keep your eyes open, don't fall asleep," he repeats. His word are gentle at first, but as your mind turns to mud, his voice becomes louder and urgent, almost screaming at you. You feel a rough hand grab your shoulder from behind, shaking you. Their attempts to keep you awake are futile, though, as everything becomes too much for you to handle.
"No, don't close your eyes! Stay with me!" and that's the last thing you hear before you drift off into the darkness.
~ ~ ~
You're awoken to the sound of quiet repetitive beeping.
Opening your eyes is a task all in itself, your eyelids feeling impossibly heavy.
After a moment of struggle, you're met with the bright light from a window to your right. You slowly turn your head to the side, and you see Hyunjin, Chan, and Changbin all perched on the couch. It looks uncomfortable, the way all three of them are scrunched up on the little loveseat.
You let your gaze linger on them for a moment, their presence providing a calming sensation for your jumbled mind.
Suddenly, your surroundings overwhelm you. You become terribly aware of all the wires connected to you. The ECG stickers become your biggest enemy, and the IV sticking out of your hand makes you angry.
Really angry.
You groan when you try to lift your arm, a sharp, shooting pain radiating down from your shoulder. You push through the pain though, urgent to remove all these wires from your body. The bandages littering your body feel as if they're burning your skin, and you've never needed to get something off of you faster.
You begin to peel the bandages from your arms, the pain from the adhesive no match for the pain you had been feeling previous to their removal.
Your agonistic groans manage to wake Changbin, and he panics when he sees you frantically tearing at your ECG stickers.
He jumps up from the couch, earning a yelp from Hyunjin as he was using Changbin as a pillow.
You're too overwhelmed to care about their actions as you continue to tear at your skin, even the blankets covering your body feeling like burning coals on your skin.
"Woah, what are you doing? You can't take those off yet," Changbin tells you, rushing to your side to try and restrain your arms.
"They're hurting me," you mumble, wretching your arms out of Changbin's grip to continue to pull at everything that touches you.
"Yn," Hyunjin gasps, quickly standing to his feet, running over to help Changbin.
Chan awakens from the commotion, alarm bells immediately sounding in his head when he sees your panicked movements.
You become more frantic when Hyunjin grabs one of your arms from Changbin, rendering you immobile.
"Get off!" you screech, yanking on your arms as hard as you can. Chan quickly runs out of the room in search of any healthcare professional he can find.
"You're gonna hurt yourself," Hyunjin struggles against you, holding tightly onto your hand.
"Let me go!" you continue to scream like a banshee, "You're hurting me!"
Neither do as you say, fearing for what you'll do to yourself if they listen.
"You're ok," Changbin pleads, bringing one of his hands away from your arm to rest it gently on your forehead. "Please calm down, everything will be ok."
You're too panicked to notice Chan re-enter the room, a nurse trailing in behind him.
She has a shot in her hand, and she hurriedly comes up beside Changbin to administer the drug. She hastily inserts the needle into your upper arm, and it only takes seconds for your demeanor to soften. Your thrashing becomes weaker, and your shouts become quieter, turning into soft mumbles.
The guys let out a sigh upon seeing your eyes close, your stature finally relaxing into the hospital bed once again.
"What the hell was that?" Hyunjin huffs, slightly out of breath from the physical altercation.
"Sometimes patients can be violent when they wake up out of a coma. It can happen to anyone," the nurse explains, taking the chart off the wall beside the bed. "We'll get some soft restraints to put on her arms before she wakes up again. It's unlikely for her to panic again, but it's just a precaution."
The guys nod, all three of them staring at your now peaceful face.
~ ~ ~
The next time you wake up, you feel as if you're experiencing deja vu. Your eyes open slowly, and you wince at the feeling of them being crusted over from sleep.
You also become strikingly aware of the aching pain radiating from your thigh. Your leg remains immobile, and you feel the constricting cast running from your mid thigh down to your ankle.
You go to bring your hand up to rub your face, but your movements are restricted. Your attention is brought to your hands, now laying limply by your side. There are restraints covering your wrists. Your face contorts into an expression of confusion, and you glance at the couch to your right.
Seated there are Chan, Hyunjin, and Changbin. Your deja vu hits you harder when you see them resting against one another, sleeping soundly.
"Chan," you call out to him, your voice surprisingly hoarse, your throat scratchy and raw.
He immediately jolts up, waking the other two in the process.
"Hey, you're awake," he says, getting up from the couch.
He's cautious as he walks over to you, taking slow steps to get to your bed. Changbin and Hyunjin watch from the couch, keeping their distance. Their expressions rival Chan's, somehow looking even more timid.
"Hi," you suddenly feel shy under their gazes, "Why are you looking at me like that? I can't even move; can we get these things off of me."
"Yea, sorry, the nurse said it was just precautionary. I'll go get someone to take them off of you," Hyunjin gets up from the couch, hurrying out into the hallway.
Realization dawns on you, and you bring your eyes to meet Chan's again. "Did I hurt someone? What happened?"
"You were trying to hurt yourself," a nurse enters the room, answering the question for Chan. "You were in a coma for a couple days. Sometimes, when patients wake, they can turn aggressive. Which you did, but nobody was hurt, the boys stopped you before you could do any damage."
You just nod, not entirely sure how to respond. She explains in more detail what had happened as she takes the restraints off your wrists.
"We had to sedate you, so you were out for an additional day. On the bright side, your coma allowed for your body to do some of the tough healing while you were unconscious. You had a surgery on your thigh the night you were brought in due to a compound fracture in your femur. The surgery was successful. It seems to be doing well for now, of course we'll have to bring you back in for some check-ups, but you should be good to go for now."
Your eyes widen as she goes on and on. Chan sits beside you, rubbing a hand up and down your back to help comfort you. The nurse continues about the paperwork, and leaves to gather it so you can leave.
"How are you feeling?" Changbin asks from the end of your bed.
"Overwhelmed," you answer curtly. The thought of not being able to perform for a while hurts your heart. Not only that, but you can't even walk!
Your suddenly hit with a wave of memories from the night of the accident, and your eyes water at the thought of the rest of your members who were in the car with you.
"Are the other guys alright? Where are they?" your voice is panicked as you ramble off questions.
"They're ok, we promise," Chan reassures you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "They went home a couple days ago to rest. None of them got hurt as badly as you did. They all got some stitches, Seungmin's got a broken arm, and Felix has a pretty nasty concussion, but they're ok."
You sigh in relief, allowing your head to rest on Chan's shoulder.
The nurse comes back in, a folder filled with paperwork in hand. "As soon as you fill these out, you'll be good to go! Your medications and dosages are in this little baggy. You had some lacerations on your side, but we just covered them with butterfly bandages. The stitches on your neck can be taken out at your next appointment. Just be weary of them as you go about your day, try not to turn your head too quickly," she instructs, handing over the paperwork.
Within a few minutes, everything is filled out and you've been put in a wheelchair. Chan stands behind you, wheeling you out towards the van. Hyunjin carries your crutches from beside you, and Changbin holds your medicine and the paperwork.
Getting in the car was a hassle all in itself, as your leg felt like a million pounds with the cast on it. Your hip was so sore from laying in bed for so long, so you opted to have Chan lift you into the car.
Once finally settled, you lean back against the seat and close your eyes. You don't want to admit it, but you know these next few months are going to be difficult.
~ ~ ~
It's been a few weeks now, and things have started to go back to how they were before the accident. This is the first regularly scheduled week since then, and you're grateful for the normalcy.
Your managers had put everything on hold for a while, allowing you and the rest of your members to recover some. They knew it was a difficult time for all of you, and you were thankful for their leniency.
You have been spending most of your time on the downstairs couch, lounging around in front of the T.V. Various members would join you throughout the day, helping you with whatever you needed. Chan has certainly been the most doting, running at your every beck and call.
Today was no different; Chan decided to stay home with you while the rest of the members went to dance practice. He knew it'd probably put him behind, but they weren't set to perform for a good while, so he'll just catch up a different day. Plus, he knows Minho can handle them all just fine without him there.
The two of you are lounging on the couch, watching one of your favorite T.V shows, when Chan gets up to use the bathroom.
You hear the door close, and realize now's your chance. Your stomach's been growling for the past hour, but you didn't want to make Chan make you something.
However, you are done being the world's longest lounging couch potato, so you rise to your feet, grabbing your crutches from beside you, and make your way into the kitchen.
You know you don't have long before Chan finds you, so you ravage through the fridge quickly to try and find something to eat. You see your leftovers from the other night neatly packed away, so you grab those.
You carefully set your crutches down, leaning them on the counter next to you before hopping, leftovers in hand, to the microwave.
Unfortunately, the rug in front of the sink slips beneath you, and you fall onto the ground, your leftovers opening and spilling out onto you.
"Oh for fuck's sake," you sigh. Thankfully, you're not hurt, your butt just a little sore, but some of the sauce now decorates your cast.
You hear the door fling open from down the hall, and a frantic Chan bursts into the kitchen a mere second later. "What are you doing?" he's panicked as he rushes over to you, his arms looping under yours to pull you up.
"I was just going to heat these up because I was hungry, but then I slipped. I'm fine," you lightly push Chan away from you, knowing fully well that you can stand on your own.
He looks slightly taken back by your attitude, but nevertheless moves towards you again. He wraps his arms around you in an attempt to pick you up, no doubt to carry you back into your permanent spot on the living room couch, but you give him a firmer shove this time. "Did I hurt you?" he worries, his eyebrows scrunching.
"No, I just want to walk to the bathroom myself and get cleaned up," you explain, doing your best to keep your composure.
"I can help, let me grab you a wash rag for your cast," he bends down next to you, rummaging through the cupboard.
"Chan, please," you sigh. As much as you loved being babied at first, enough is enough. "I need some time by myself. I love you guys, but I'm not sure I've had a moment alone since the accident." Your arms are crossed as he stands, a pout forming on his face.
"But we just want to help you," he says, puppy-dog eyes on full display.
"And I thank you for all you guys have done the past month, but I really need to start doing things for myself again," you reach past him, grabbing your crutches and head down the hall to your bathroom. "Now to get this sauce off me," you mumble as you push the door open with the end of your crutch.
~ ~ ~
You're laying on your bed later in the day, knee propped up on a plump pillow to help alleviate some of the pain from your aching leg, when you hear a knock on door.
You tell them to come in, and the door opens to reveal Chan. "Hi," he's timid as he walks in. He takes a seat on the edge of your bed, a guilty look on his face.
"What's up?" you ask, sliding your bookmark into the crease of your novel.
"I wanted to apologize on behalf of all of us. We've been really clingy since the accident, and we didn't realize we were overstepping."
"Chan," you sigh, adjusting yourself to sit next to him. "Please don't beat yourself up about this. Honestly, I was just a little frustrated earlier and took it out on you. You guys have helped me more than you know these last few weeks. I really don't mind all the doting."
His eyes light up at that. "Really?" his voice is giddy, and you regret that you were the cause of his sadness before.
While the overprotectiveness really did get on your nerves a bit, if it brings them that much happiness to take care of you, you suppose you can get past your grumpiness and let them do it.
"Really."
"Guys, she changed her mind!" he yells, and not even a second later, your door swings open, seven smiling faces staring back at you.
They hurry into your room, clumsily fighting each other to sit on your bed. They're still cautious of your leg, but they all manage to fit, even if a little squished.
"Don't make me regret this," you joke, ruffling Seungmin's hair from where he's laid out on your lap.
"You know you love us," Chan comments, smirking at you.
"I certainly do."
1K notes · View notes
eustasskidagenda · 6 months
Text
anon asked: Hi! Jumping into your ask box to continue the 'afraid of having sex' series. Still with a female reader and the exact same prompt. But this time, with Usopp & Sabo because they are underrated. And also with Ace, Shanks and Mihawk. We need the whole cast with this headcanon! Ty and anon <3
Oh damn, let's go for a round 3 with some soft/dilf/underated boys! I'm so happy to receive a request with Sabo ♡ And sure, a round 4 with more underrated characters would be funny, especially with Killer & Marco. Anyway, for the moment, let's go for Usopp, Sabo, Ace, Shanks & Mihawk :D Thank you for requesting, I hope the outcome will match your expectations!
☆ Usopp, Sabo, Ace, Shanks & Mihawk with a s/o afraid of having sex
CW (generals): MDNI, smut, v!sex, f!reader, more are listed under each character 
WC : 3K
⇢ You can read the part one here and the part two here 
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Usopp 
CW : virgin!Usopp, fingering (reader receiving),  oral sex (reader/Usopp receiving), slight pet name (babe), slight dirty talk, protected sex 
(Aw, poor Usopp is probably really stressed too)
Let's assume it's your first time ending up in the same bed. Due to his lie about his experience, he would feel extremely anxious. He claimed to have had sex many times, but it was a total lie. He's a virgin. When you confess that you're afraid because it's been a while since your last sex, he's relieved. At least you're nervous together, isn't that nice? Nevertheless, he is also ashamed and embarrassed by his deceit. He wants to be honest like you have been with him! But he's so nervous about your reaction.
"Y/N… I lied… I mean… I may exaggerate a bit my experience…" he would babble, avoiding your gaze. "It's possible that… this actually is my first time..." while fidgeting nervously and sweating wildly.
He's confused when you burst into laughter. "It was quite obvious to me. You're a bad liar." 
Poor Usopp is even more flustered. "Still, you have to make it for your lie." 
Even if you're not mad at him, he's still ashamed and jittery. Maybe as much as you, or even more. His lips would gently touch yours, and his shaky hands would roam all over your body. 
Please, guide this poor boy. Tell him how to pleasure you. 
His hands would be a bit butterfingered while circling your clit or fondling your breasts. Luckily, he cares about your needs and has a creative mind, so he would be pretty good at figuring out how your body works. 
Eager boy. He would stare intently at your pussy, astonished by its increasing wetness. He would never be satisfied. The way you squirm, moan and clench around his fingers is mesmerizing. 
"Babe, you're so wet down there. Love how you clench around me. Please do the same for my cock." 
And if you decide to go down on him… damn, Usopp would just turn into a whimpering, whiny mess. Would probably cum because he can't handle how good your mouth feels around his member.
Poor boy would be so embarrassed to cum that fast.
He would make an effort to repay the favor. But finding the right angle with his long nose is quite a challenge. "Ouch, my nose" all the two seconds. 
Again, eager boy. He would remain between your legs throughout the entire day and still crave more. Your pussy tastes and feels so good for his sanity. Please keep moaning his name, it's music to his ears. And if you pull on his hair, burying his head against your folds, he's in heaven. 
He's a conscientious boy, so he would wear a condom, use lube, and make sure you're relaxed enough. 
He would try to be as close to you as possible while slowly burying himself within you. Your walls stretching around his thick girth would be so captivating for him. 
"You're alright? Can I keep going?" 
A lot of shudders, shaky hands on your hips while he slowly starts to thrust into your tightness. "Babe, you feel so good clenching around me…" 
He would absolutely love to watch his cock covered with your wetness sliding in and out of you.
Wouldn't last that long because it's so overwhelming for him. But damn, he's so eager to make you squirm and moan all night (and all the next day...) He's already addicted to your body.
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Sabo
CW : Dirty talk, fingering and oral sex (reader receiving), mention of choking, mention of spanking, slight teasing, protected sex, slight praises, slight pet name (sweetie)
Sabo is probably a very kinky boy. Pretty sure he would enjoy wrapping his claws around your neck and choking you. Or to make you wear his hat while you ride him. Or use his gloves to spank you, or... yeah, the list is endless. However, his soul is also kind and compassionate. He's a revolutionary, a big brother, and a protective person who craves freedom and justice. So if you're afraid because it's been a long time or nervous about getting hurt, he would be really nice to you.
"Sure sweetie, we'll take it slow." with a big, reassuring smile. 
Again, revolutionary boy. He would ensure that you are comfortable with each action and constantly verify your consent. "You're alright?" , "Can I touch you there?", "Can I keep going?"
"You're so beautiful" while looking at your naked body, covering it with a lot of sweet kisses along your collarbone, neck, breasts and lower stomach. He would be delighted to stroke your breasts for hours, as they feel so warm and soft in his hands. 
"Can I take them off?" While reaching for your panties.
Upon your nod, he would pull your panties down your legs with his teeth. Just to tease you. He would look at you, leaving a kiss on your inner thighs. He's good  (and a god) when it comes to anticipation. 
"You look so pretty for me. Want me to go down on you?" 
He would gently massage your legs with his thumbs, circling your inner thighs as you nod. The more you shiver and squirm in need, the more he feels satisfied with himself. "Need me so bad, Y/N?" 
Once more, kinky boy. He would love to spread your legs wide open to get a better look at your pussy clenching around nothing. Before finally going down on you. And damn, Sabo is a god when it comes to eating you out. He's really attentive to your needs and always cares about your reactions. He will follow your leads if you guide him or tell him what you like. Please, bury his head against your wet folds. He likes that. The way your body arching, the way you moan, beg, shudder, cry out while he circles your clit. It's music to his ear. If you cum against his lips, then, Sabo would be in pure heaven.
"Look at how wet you are. Can't wait to fill you up." While pushing two fingers inside you, curling them to find your sweet spot. And as he pulls them off, oh, sure, he would show you how wet you are because he's a tease. Before licking his fingers covered in your wetness. "You taste so good. I bet you pussy will be amazing around my cock."
If you tell him you're ready for more, Sabo, being a smart and responsible boy, would use a condom and lube.
"Shit… you're so tight. You're okay? Want me to stop?" While slowly burying his length inside you.  "That's my brave girl, taking all of my cock so well."
Sabo would make an effort to stay soft and sweet just for you. But you feel too good around him, how you clench and spasm around his girth, your tightness, and wetness... it’s too much for him.
"You look so beautiful with my cock buried inside you."
He would let out a shaky breath, gently steadying you while thrusting into you. Really beautiful moans close to your ears. 
And really clingy during the aftercare. 
(In his mind, he's already thinking about your next round and how his claws would look awesome on your throat.)
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Ace
CW : creative use of DF (in a soft/sweet way), slight praises, fingering, face sitting, protected sex, slight dirty talk
If you explain to Ace that you're always nervous and stressed during sex, his first reaction is to panic. And to ask for help from Marco, because Ace is kind and afraid of hurting you. Or not being good enough for you. So he needs some advice, and well, Marco is a doctor. 
Once he's more informed, the next time you're having a passionate making-out session, Ace would try his best to reassure you and be extra sweet for you.
In fact, he doesn't have a lot of experience. He always thinks he's not worthy. So it's not easy for him to be intimate, and random hookups are not something he's comfortable with. 
He would sit you on his laps and cherish every inch of your body. Your curves are a sight to behold. He feels lucky to touch you. His hands are probably shaking a bit because he's both nervous and excited. He would slowly reach for your bottom and cup your ass cheeks with his hands. "I need you so bad, Y/N" 
He would always make certain that you are okay with every action. Like, asking you before touching your breasts, taking off your clothes etc. Such a sweet boy. 
He would just push your panties to the side, feeling the heat between your thighs. "Can I?" His voice thick with need and adoration. Your tightness and warmth around Ace's fingers would make him mesmerized. He would hold you tight while fingering you until you beg and beg for more.
Even if his cock is throbbing with need, but he would be focused on you, and only you. "You're so pretty. Feel how hard I am for you?" 
"You taste so good. I want more" while licking his fingers. 
He would ask you to sit on his face. Because he's so eager. He loves your body, how you feel, how you taste, and the warmth of your thighs pressed against his face. He would love to feel you squirm as he circles your cheek with his fingers and push the tip of his tongue inside you. 
Would playfully slap your ass or grip it to press your pussy more firmly against his lips.
When you tell him you're ready for more, Ace would feel a bit nervous again. So he would let you straddle him. At least you can control the depth. Plus, your body is beautiful, so cowgirl is an awesome position to watch all of your curves again and again.
"Fuck, you're amazing"
Another responsible boy, he would use a condom. Ace is too frightened to have a child by accident. 
He would hold your hips tightly and the moment his cockhead starts to stretch your walls, Ace would turn into a moaning mess because it feels too good for his poor soul. 
"Y/N, you feel so damn good." The more you impale yourself on his length, the more Ace would moan. The sensation is too overwhelming for him, he can't handle it. 
"You're taking me so well. You're alright? You feel me right there?" While gently rubbing his palms along your lower stomach. And if it hurts a bit, he would use his DF to gently massage your lower stomach, soothing you with the nice warmth. 
Ace will lay you on your back and nuzzle his head on your neck once you feel comfortable and relaxed. Although his thrusts are gentle, you can still feel the force behind them. He’s probably holding back a bit. He would be fond of the way you squirm when the cold pearls of his collar touch your skin. 
Beautiful, really beautiful moans. 
And would randomly fall asleep on you after he cum. With his cock still inside you.
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Shanks 
CW : face sitting, slight praises, dirty talk, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected sex, pet name (pretty girl), slight size kink, teasing
Shanks may be kinky as Sabo, but if you're already nervous due to stress, he won't bend you over the table to fuck you senseless. 
"Aw, my pretty girl is stressed? Why? Because I'm too big?" with a playful smile on his lips. He's such a tease.
He would be a little goofy, with some silly dad jokes that would make you laugh. Shanks is not always goofy. I mean, if you want him to fuck you rough, he can. But if you're nervous, then he won't mind making things extra fun. The more you laugh, the less nervous you are after all, and that's all he wants. He likes when sex is enjoyable and natural. 
"Maybe I'm armless, but at least, I'm pretty good with my last hand. Wanna try?" with a playful grin.
And damn, he's right. He is talented, even if he has only one hand. The easiest position for Shanks is to sit on his face. First, you're pretty and he loves feeling your juice drip on his chin. Secondly, he's sure he won't lose his balance and just fall on you randomly. Keyword: goofy.
Your pussy's taste would be so intoxicating. Perhaps even better than alcohol. With his hand, he would circle your clit with his thumb and push two thick fingers inside you. You can't help but cum as he stimulates you with his hand and tongue. 
"Mh, that's my pretty girl, all wet and open for me. Look at how my fingers are sliding with ease. I bet you're ready for my cock?" 
He would love how you feel flushed and flustered by his words. Such a tease. 
As you look at his thick and long cock twitching in need, he would just laugh playfully. "Aw pretty girl, don't be afraid, it doesn't bite. I'll stretch you out juuuust nice." 
Shanks is probably a bit lazy sometimes and also loves to look at his girl, so his favorite position is always when you're on top of him. He enjoys observing your curves and how you use him for your own pleasure. 
"Ride me, don't be lazy." 
(So sassy.)
"That's it, take me all the way in." As you gradually impale yourself onto his thick length. Despite your nervousness, he did a fantastic job of soothing you. He will try to alleviate your pain with more silly jokes if it's still painful. "Atta girl" as he's finally balls deep inside of you. 
He would love to watch you bounce up and down as you ride him. His gaze would be fixed on your breasts or his throbbing cock, sliding in and out, all covered by your wetness. "Fuck, you're really swallowing me. You like how nice I'm stretching you?" 
"You're riding me so well. You love riding your captain, huh?" He would squeeze your breasts or ass playfully while you're doing all the work. And, because he's a tease, he would circle your clit with his thumb. He would laugh as you squirm and coat his cock with your juice. "What's wrong, pretty girl?" 
Really chatty and playful throughout the whole time. If you tease him about his missing arm, he would laugh first. If you continue, be ready for him to fuck you senseless, pull on your hair, spank you, and even bite you. "Say that again?" 
(Sure, he would know you're unable to answer because of his relentless pounding. That’s too bad, right?)
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Mihawk 
CW : slight size kink, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), mention of knife play, slight praises, slight dirty talk, protected sex 
Mihawk is a gentleman. While he may have some kinks, sex with him is always about consent and respect. Even when he's extra rough.
So if you tell him you're really stressed because it's been a while since the last time you had sex and because of his size… he would be extra careful. 
Mihawk is really classy, so first thing first, he would run you a hot bath for the both of you. And tell you a couple of times how beautiful your bare body is. Gently, he would kiss all of your wet skin, easing your fears, and fondling your breasts. It's probably a bit scary to be so intimate with Mihawk, because his piercing eyes are really impressive. But he's a god when it comes to observing your reactions and learning from them. 
If you lean against his torso, his cock will be pressed against your back. All throbbing with need. But he won't ask you anything: he wants to satisfy you and only you. 
He would love the feeling of your breasts against his palms and sucking on your nipples. "I'm sure you're already all wet for me." Yes, even with the water, he would still know. Again, piercing eyes. "Wanna bet? Let's find out" 
And then, he would carry you to the bedrooms. Extra luxurious and precious bedsheets. The texture is heavenly on your skin. Mihawk would kiss every inch of your body, then spread your thighs. "Look like I was right" with a slight grin, before burying his head between your legs. 
Again, he's all about anticipation and elegance. He won't lick your folds as if he were a savage without manners. His first step would be to kiss your inner thighs. Keyword: teasing. He wants to see you squirm and loves to watch how wet you are already, just for a bit of teasing and anticipation. Perhaps he has a fantasy about running his sword (the small one around his neck) along your inner legs. In a soft way, sure. But he won't do it because you're already anxious.
And when he finally starts to eat you out, damn, it's pure bliss. He would constantly look at you with his hawk eyes to gauge your reactions. Figuring out how your body is working won't take him a long time. Be prepared to cum at least once against his lips. "Stay still." If you squirm too much because it feels too good.
After you cum, he would reach for your face and lips and kiss you. "You like how you taste? Because I do." With a playful grin. 
Another smart man, so he would both use a condom and lube. To reassure you, he would allow you to ride him. As you slowly sink yourself down his length, Mihawk would fall into an exquisite loss of control. 
While holding onto your hips or bedsheets, he would exhale a shaky breath. "You're so tight, I love how you clench around me." While circling your clit with his thumb to ease your potential pain. 
"You're riding me so well. That's my girl." Before giving you his hat. So now, you're a real cowgirl. Seeing his girl riding him with his hat would make his cock throb with need. His hands would tightly hold your hips to help you move up and down his length. The sloshing noises, your moans, shudders, how you clench around him, how your juice is dripping down his cock, how your breasts are bouncing with each thrust… it's too much to handle for his sake. 
"You're so pretty for me." 
He would end up really needy to feel your skin against his. Get ready to stay still on your back as he fucks you with a strong yet gentle pace. A lot of eye contact and intertwining fingers. 
And his deep sighs, maybe even low grunts. A pure delight.
1K notes · View notes
woso-dreamzzz · 18 days
Text
Head
Hardersson x Teen!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: You get a concussion
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It was a rare day off for both Magda and Pernille, one they spend watching movies without a certain thirteen year old studying at the kitchen table.
It's during a small gap in choosing the next movie when Pernille gets the call.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Miss Harder. We're just calling in regards to y/n?"
Pernille sits up. "Why? Is something wrong?"
Her first thought is that you've had an anxiety attack. You haven't had one in a while. You've been happy with your school work and you've been happy with your training. But Pernille can't think of any other reason why the staff were calling her.
"I'm afraid that she caught a ball in the face a little while ago and collided with her posts," The staff member explains," We've had her checked out by the medics and it's a low-grade concussion but we're just wanting you to come and pick her up."
"Yeah, yeah, of course. We'll be right there."
Magda looks confused as Pernille drops the call, not really getting an answer until they're already in the car.
You're sitting by the receptionist when they get there, holding a cold compress to your head.
"That's quite the egg you've got there," Magda teases as she looks over the swelling," Does it hurt?"
You huff. "A little bit. Is it true I can't come back to training for ten days?"
"You can't come back until you're fully healed," Magda says," Ten days is the average. Could be up to fourteen."
You huff again, kicking your training bag in annoyance. "It's not that bad!"
"It's bad if you start getting into the habit of playing while injured," Magda replies with a pointed look," Come on, up. Let's get you home."
You stubbornly don't talk in the car, arms crossed over your chest until Pernille snaps at you for not using the icepack.
She fusses with you when you get home as you're shepherded onto the sofa and buried under blankets.
You groan when she flashes a penlight in your eyes.
"Why do you even have one of those?" You complain, trying to push her hand away.
"Who cares why?" Pernille says," Stop moving."
"They already did it at practice," You say, still trying to avoid the light," I'm fine. It's just a headache."
"Did they give you painkillers?"
"Momma," You say," I'm fine."
She gives you a look. "Magda, grab some painkillers please."
Magda rolls her eyes. "If she says she's fine then she's fine."
"That would be the case if she wasn't your daughter," Pernille argues back," You do this too, so painkillers, please, Magda."
You're practically forced to swallow down some pills before Momma and Morsa settle in with you. You lay horizontally on the sofa with your feet in Morsa's lap and your head in Momma's.
The tv is switched off due to your concussion but you can hear Morsa watching something on her phone.
You try to sit up but Momma's gentle hand in your hair forces it to remain in her lap.
"Momma," You complain," I just want to-"
"Go on your Morsa's phone, yes, I know but you know concussion protocol. No technology."
"It's unfair," You say," She's teasing me!"
"Hey!" Morsa laughs," It's not my fault you got hit in the head!"
You stick your tongue out at her and the argument goes back and forth for a while before Momma manoeuvres you to your feet.
"I don't want to nap!" You say as she pulls you up the stairs.
Pernille doesn't listen to you and, for some reason, you allow yourself to be tucked into bed. Your head pounds even though you've taken a painkiller and you reach out to grab her wrist when she moves to go.
"Momma," You say, hating how your voice suddenly sounds all weak and pathetic," Please don't go."
"Of course not, princesse," She assures you," I'm just going to turn off your light. You're silly for thinking I'm leaving you alone while you're injured."
"You're silly for thinking either of us are leaving." Morsa appears in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame as you give her a wry smile.
"Are you here to go on your phone while I can't?"
Morsa laughs. "Who do you think I am, princesse? I can't just want to take a nap with you?"
"Going by your track record? No."
She slips into bed with you, wiggling around under the covers for a moment. "Can I have some pillow?"
You turn on your side, resting your head on Momma's chest with a smug smile. "No."
"Come on! You're not even using it!"
"Why don't you use your phone as a pillow?" You taunt and Morsa groans.
"Are you really holding that against me? I'm not the one with the concussion!"
"Magda," Momma says," Stop teasing her."
"Yeah, Morsa, stop teasing me!"
"And you," Momma says," We're meant to be napping. You're hurt."
You huff. "Do I have to?"
"Yes. So close your eyes and go to sleep. Maybe if you nap, you'll heal up quicker."
You don't need much more convincing than that.
555 notes · View notes
koqabear · 9 months
Note
Happy 2k!! I have ot5 request for the mic is yours!
Ot5 reactions to you teasing them the entire day with them getting hard and then you straying away to make em mad? <3
join the 2k event and request something!
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ot5 x fem! reader // wc: 3.1K(...) ; around 500 per member // smut, established relationship, MDNI.
warnings: yj; dry humping, masturbating // sb; dry humping, slightly subby binnie // bg; mean dom! gyu, degrading, unprotected sex, manhandling// th; bratty mc, slight switch tyun // hk; kinda perv!huening, grinding, a bit of subby!hyuka //
notes: ignore the fact that this is well over 2k. my stupid ass doesn’t know how to keep things brief. (i'll try to not let it happen again so don't expect this for every request aldkjh)
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[Yeonjun]
Is a bit oblivious at first, but when he finds out, he’s pissed off. Poor boy was trying to remain innocent and oblivious the whole day, pretending as though the way you sat in his lap and kept getting all touchy wasn’t affecting him. His last straw was feeling the way you kept shifting on top of him, whining innocently that you couldn’t get comfortable while you both pretended that he wasn’t unbelievably hard right now and that you definitely weren’t grinding on him— cute little pussy already soaking wet as you pretend that you aren’t getting needy yourself, huffing petulantly as he tries to ignore the way his cock is slotted perfectly along your entrance. 
“Baby…” he would mutter, more of a warning than you realized as you simply hummed in response, head emerging from where it was tucked in his neck to look at him; you’re trying to hold back a smile at the way he seems tense and flushed, continuing your act as you shift once more— his hands move to grab onto your waist, eager to set a proper pace that he can fuck up into you with, but you’re getting off his lap before he can even process anything, and you’re sending him a pout as you tell him that you think you’ll just go to bed instead. 
He’s stunned for a moment… but then, he just decides to let you go; don’t think it won’t come with repercussions though, because now that he’s seen how far you decided to take this little stunt of yours, he’ll take it even further. Following you into the bedroom after a moment, taking in the way you’re simply laying on the bed and scrolling on your phone casually, glancing at him and making a show of ignoring the very blatant bulge in his sweats.
“Don’t wanna finish what you started?” he would ask, sitting at the edge of the bed and watching the way you continue to ignore him, “Okay then, that’s fine.” 
You don’t really know what he means by that, but his words are a bit ominous as you simply turn your back to him, trying to not give in as you continue to ignore him— after a while, you hear it… it’s subtle at first, the strange yet familiar sounds that have you squeezing your thighs and your body heating up— then, it’s more than obvious, the wet sounds of Yeonjun’s hand going up and down his cock and his exaggerated moans making you bury your face in your pillow, flustered and needy as you realize that he’s teasing you now; moaning your name loudly, his pace quick and cruel as he simply talks to himself— at least that’s what it seems like, but you know damn well he’s just trying to get you to look at him.
“Fuck…” he would coo your name, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was ready to reach out to you any second now— but no, one glance over your shoulder and your eyes are meeting his, left frozen as he simply keeps eye contact with you, his pace quickening and his brows furrowing slightly as he simply nears his orgasm, his sounds dramatic and his abs clenching as he tenses. And like the fool you are, you try to reach out to him, more than willing to help out before he grabs your wrist to stop you, eyes narrowed angrily as he finally cums; you can only whimper quietly as you watch, eyes glossy as you hold back the urge to beg him to touch you— instead, he simply takes a moment to catch his breath, huffing quietly before he tucks himself in; then, he’s leaning over you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before he’s getting off the bed. 
“Go to sleep, baby,” he says, not bothering to look back as he exits the room, “I’ll be in the living room, I have some work I need to do.”
And if you think this is the end of it, you’re definitely wrong; you can apologize and cry and beg as much as you want, but Yeonjun won’t be touching you for the rest of the night— if he’s feeling really petty, he’ll let it go on for a few days. Anything to make sure you learned your lesson.
[Soobin]
You know how weak he gets when he sees you in his clothes. At least, that must be the case, finding you in the kitchen and making dinner while you’re decked in a thin pair of shorts and his oversized hoodie, the sight making his stomach flip. There’s no way you don’t know what you’re doing, acting all affectionate and excited as you run to him, squeezing him in a tight hug as he realizes with wide eyes that you’re not wearing a bra. Gulping slightly at the way you pepper him with kisses, cutely whining that you missed him while you continue to cling to him. 
He tries so hard to keep his composure— really, he does— because the last thing he wants is for you to think he’s nothing more than a pervert, always thinking with his dick when he’s around you. But oh, are you always this touchy with him…? Keeping him close to your side, asking him to taste test stuff for you as you smile at him widely— washing your hands before you go to try the filling you’ve just made for a desert, humming excitedly at how good it tastes— and before Soobin knows it, you’re offering him a taste too, your finger swiping the inside of the bowl before you’re bringing it up to his mouth; doe eyes urging him quietly to taste, pouty lips parting to say “ahh”, as though asking him to do the same. 
He really hopes you don’t take notice of how hard he is right now. Because as his tongue swirls around your finger carefully, watching the way your eyes glaze and your mouth parts slightly, he’s unable to stop his wandering thoughts that ask him if you’re as sweet as the dessert you’re making. But before he can test out his theory, you’re pulling away, mumbling to yourself that your food will burn if you don’t attend to it soon. 
This goes on for longer than Soobin would like; he’s forced to watch as you refuse to address the strong tension in the room, still playful and teasing as you eventually corner him against the cabinets, giving him an excuse that you need to get something behind him as you press against him— his cock is firm against your body, and he fails to suppress the way his breath hitches at the feeling. 
Fuck this. It’s the only thought coursing through Soobin’s mind as he comes up behind you, arms circling your waist and pulling you back into him as he begins grinding into you; poor baby is just so needy, apologizing and whining that he just couldn’t help himself as he ruts his cock against your ass, telling you to keep cooking and just ignore him— like you’ve already been doing. But his breath is hot against your neck and his voice is so whiny as he humps against you, whining filth into your ear until eventually, you’re the one giving in; you’ve never turned the stove and oven off so fast as you practically pounce on Soobin, your plan gone wrong by how needy he is, his hands and lips all over you as he practically overpowers you with his sheer need to fuck you.
Well, looks like dinner will be done a lot later than you expected.
[Beomgyu]
Your first mistake was messing with Beomgyu; your second mistake was thinking you’d actually get away with it. If there’s one thing this man loves more than anything, it’s making sure to put you in your place when you try to act out— so, when you decide to get a little bold today and tease him in public… his mind is already racing with possibilities on how to make you regret it. 
At first, it’s all just mild things; nothing too out of the ordinary, pretending to be oblivious to the lingering touches you’ve left on him as you go shopping, the way you’ve let your kisses go on longer than they should when you’re hidden in between the aisles, tempting him to venture further with the way your fingers tangle themselves in his hair and your body presses against him.
You’re never this bold; which is exactly why he can’t help but be a little surprised when you let it continue the whole day, going through with your teasing even as you sit at a restaurant with Beomgyu’s friends, laughing and talking casually as though you weren’t wearing that one dress that always made Beomgyu unnecessarily horny, and as though you hadn’t showcased the lingerie set you were wearing under to him proudly as you were getting ready, lacy and intricate and beautiful as it stuck to your skin, smiling at him cutely as you asked him if you looked good.
He finds your teasing amusing— even more so when you look at him with innocent eyes and a bright smile, laughing along with whatever his friends were saying as you listened intently to their conversation— but it’s all fun and games until you’ve had a few glasses of wine, tipsy and bold as you begin to get touchy once more, continuing to talk casually as though you aren’t aware of the way your hand is on his inner thigh, his most sensitive area as you massage it gently; thumb caressing the fabric of his pants gently, fingers squeezing him as he jumps so hard his knees knock against the table— and while his friends tease him and the glasses rattle from the impact, Beomgyu sends you a glare so harsh you can’t help but shrink back immediately. 
Poor thing, you don’t even make it out of the car. Beomgyu is fucking you in the backseat of the car parked in the driveway, angry and rough as he scolds you for trying to act out— your dress is tossed over the console and your lingerie is ripped and stained with his cum, going round after round, feeling the way your body becomes sore and weak as he puts you into any position he wants, fucking you with abandon as he degrades you for trying to get bold in front of his friends— he fucks you until you’re a crying, overstimulated and apologetic mess, babbling that you’ll never do it again as he merely laughs at you at curses to shut up and take it; “after all, this is what you wanted, right? To get put in your place?”
And even if you try to deny it and play innocent, you both know the truth— that it’s exactly what you wanted, and that you’ll definitely try it again. 
[Taehyun]
Ooh. If there’s one thing about this man, it’s that he will hold a grudge. Picks up on what you’re doing immediately— and wills himself to not fall for your tricks. Teasing him in public? He brushes you off like it’s nothing. Getting clingy and touchy with him out of nowhere? Okay, he’ll do the same. Trying to tempt him by wearing close to nothing, or continuing to sport your cute sets of lingerie in front of him? Well, then you don’t mind him walking around shirtless or working out in front of you, right? In the end, you’re scurrying away from him in order to not give in first— because without realizing it, this man turned all this teasing into a fucking competition— and now he’s trying to give you a taste of your own medicine, waiting for you to cave and admit what you’ve been trying (and failing) to do. 
It’s so ridiculous, he makes it go on long after you’ve finally given up; now you’re simply being clingy because you’re needy, all over him to give him a subtle hint that you want nothing more for him to fuck you stupid— but no, Taehyun has yet to hear an apology from you; he refuses to let your teasing slide, refuses to go along with the way you kiss him slowly, attempting to deepen it and let your hands wander under the band of his sweatpants; he’s stopped you every time, giving you an amused look and raising a brow as he simply slips from your grip, giving you a half-hearted excuse that he should get started on dinner, or that he feels tired, or worse, that he told Beomgyu he’d get on a game with him around this time. 
The worst part? You’re just as stubborn as him. You refuse to give him exactly what he wants, which is to bring you to your knees and beg him to stop being a jerk and fuck you already; your stubborn attitudes only leave you pent up and irritated with each other, unable to give up on this silent competition as this tension only grows, worsening until there's no other choice but to let it all… explode.
“What are you doing now,” he would ask you, not bothering to pretend as though he’s been oblivious to your previous attempts to tease as you pull on his chair, rolling him away from his desk and spinning him around— he’s barely given any time to react before you’re kissing him desperately, tugging your shorts off and climbing on his lap as he quickly reciprocates; he’s never felt you get this rough with him before, tugging up his shirt and slipping a hand down the band of his sweats to cup his already hardening cock, the kiss messy and harsh as you bite down on the supple flesh of his lips; your hand goes up to tug off his headset, throwing it back on his desk and pulling him even closer— his game is quickly forgotten as he allows you to take over, already feeling the way your pussy soaks through his sweats as you begin to grind against him. 
And for once, you let yourself scold Taehyun as you ride him, hands tangled in his hair as you take in his eyes gloss and watch you in awe, irritated with the stupid coy smile he sports as he simply keeps his hands on your hips, helping your pace as he bucks up into you ever so often— stupid jerk, you would groan, milking him endlessly as you ignore the way your legs ache after who-knows-how-many rounds, still going as you take out your frustrations on him, you always have to get the upper hand, hmm? Just looove to get competitive?
He lets you get it out of your system quietly— but once you find yourself too tired to continue, he’ll give you a nice reminder on why it’s not a good idea to try to tease him.
[Hueningkai]
This poor boy… will genuinely just not do anything about it. He’s too meek and a severe overthinker, will just believe that you’re not doing any of this on purpose and that he really shouldn’t be looking too much into any of it. Your touchiness, the way you cling to him in public, your hand that somehow continuously finds itself on his thighs, massaging the sore muscles with deft hands as you simply smile at him cutely, ignoring the way he stiffens slightly at the feeling— no, you must not know how weak he gets from your touch, sporting tense smiles and forcing himself to not look at you for too long, because he thinks his thoughts might just stray if he has to take note of your low cut top any longer, or the skirt that is a bit too short as he always finds himself getting a little nervous every time he’s trailing behind you, mentally scolding himself to look at anything but the sway of your hips as you walk.
You must really underestimate the effect you have on him; at least, that’s what he believes, feeling his stomach twist with slight guilt as he has to take a moment to focus on not hardening pathetically at your every action— believing he’s being such a pervert for getting flustered at the way you continue to make eye contact as you lean on the kitchen counter, pretty lips parted and your tongue swirling around the popsicle you were just conveniently craving; feeling his face heat up at the way your tongue runs along it, eager to not let a single drop spill as you let our exaggerated groans of satisfaction.
Meanwhile, you’re simply trying your hardest not to laugh. You don’t think you’ve ever seen your boyfriend so tense before, his cheeks flushed and his lower half glued to the counter, away from your curious eyes that give him a curious look, asking him if he’s alright.
“Yeah,” he would reply, much too quick for it to seem natural, his smile tense as you raise a brow at the sight, “just… a little tired.”
Those words are enough to dig his grave; he’s found himself tangled up in your bed, halfway through a movie he can’t remember the name of as he simply wills himself to calm down— to ignore the way you nuzzle against him, straddling him and whispering softly that you think you’ll just take a nap— and he simply mutters out a soft okay, afraid out of his mind that you’ll feel the way he’s getting hard, (again, it’s been happening all day) tense as always as he simply gulps nervously. 
You’ve done everything to push his limits— so why hasn’t he said anything? The thought is enough to make you laugh, the feeling of your breath on Huening’s neck enough to make him shiver with sensitivity, and he’s unable to realize the way his arms have tightened around you, pulling you flush against his body as his cock begins to rut against your stomach, painfully hard as he tries to search for some relief.
“Huening, y’okay?” the moment you ask him that is the moment he’s falling apart, whining quietly into your skin and apologizing that he’s really not like this— that he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, completely unaware that you’ve brought him to this point purposefully; poor baby is practically crying the moment you ask quietly if he wants you to take care of him, eyes glossing over the moment you begin to grind slowly against him.  Little did you know that all of that teasing would come with repercussions— because now, Huening is all pent up and needy, and you won’t be leaving the bed until it’s all out of his system; you’ll take it all though, won’t you? Be a good girl for him, okay?
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cosmicpuzzle · 1 month
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7th Lord in Houses - New Edition ❤️
1st House
This is a good placement. It indicates that the partners are very similar. Your partner's life affects you and vice versa. Your partner may like you physically as 1st house is your body/personality. These are the couples to always be together if other afflictions aren't there. These couples rarely break apart even if there are conflicts in the relationship. Your partner may dominate you if the planets involved are Sun or Mars.
2nd House
Here the relationship totally becomes focused on creating material security. You both are possessive of each other and need constant physical touch and caressing. Your partner may or may not like your family members. You can also spend a lot post marriage simply because you get accustomed to a spendthrift partner. I have also seen the partner can be stingy and that leads to conflicts. This is more of an issue when one of the partners isn't earning and becomes dependent on the other.
3rd House
This is a fun placement if the planets involved are benefics such as Mercury/Venus/Jupiter. There is a lot of discussion in the marriage that the physical passion can suffer. The relationship can be too mental and lack seriousness. It can also lead to multiple relationships or flirting with random people. There is lot of changes post marriage such as moving to a new city or even country. There can be significant real estate transactions leading to profit.
4th House
This is one of the best placements as 4th house signifies domestic life and marriage is about that - creating a nest together. There is significant gain of fixed assets post marriage such as a property, car and other comforts. In case of affliction the partner may dislike one's family or mother in particular. The partner can be someone you are familiar with or who grew up in the same locality as you did may be even family friends. There is also a possibility of the partner doing some home business or related to real estate.
5th House
I know many people rave about this placement but don't get me wrong- it can be really troublesome. You may date a lot of people but still remain unmarried after a certain age. In case of afflictions none of the love affairs materialize into commitment. Sometimes the person may embrace a monastic life if the planets are highly dignified or if the 12th lord is also involved. Love may be successful at times if other factors are supportive and indicates a deepfelt connection with the partner. The partner can also be prone to affairs in case of afflictions. Also, afflictions may deny the birth of children to the couple or delay them.
6th House
I personally don't like this placement for it brings many conflicts within the relationship. The partner may be too much into work or may dislike having sex. The partner may be unable to perform in the bed too or have other health problems that restrict the sexual life. Sometimes these couples have sex only to have children and then the romance literally dies out. Positively it can mean prosperity at a foreign land post marriage and the partner having a strong career. This can easily indicate divorce if there is another malefic in 7th house.
7th House
This placement depends on the planet involved. For most rising signs this placement could give some issues especially if planets involved are Mars/Saturn/Jupiter. Mercury and Venus can mean more than one marriage but is usually happy. I don't see many happy couples especially Taurus, Libra, Virgo, Gemini risings. The partner can have very strong traits of the planet that's in the 7th house for good or bad.
8th House
Let's be honest. This placement can be really difficult if other factors are not supportive. The marriage could easily break. This shows a past left karmic debt related to marriage. The partner's health or longevity could be at risk too. There can be arguments over joint assets and the marriage may be done for money or just sex. The partner can be a medical professional researcher or an occultist.
9th House
This is a good placement but can also signify multiple marriages especially if 8th house is afflicted or Mercury is involved. it indicates marriage to someone culturally different to you. In some cases, you may marry even a mentor or someone quite elder to you. You are likely to meet life partner at college or when you travel somewhere. You may meet through internet too. There may be religious differences with your partner. You and partner can have an interest in travelling or spirituality. The partner can be a lawyer or teacher.
10th House
Here the marriage changes one's career path. Your partner motivates you to achieve more or they themselves can be very ambitious. in case of serious afflictions, it indicates workplace affairs or affairs with the boss. The partner may be close to their family or mother especially. The partner may change their careers often too. The partner takes the major decisions and hence may be superior to you. The partner can also be of a higher status at the time of marriage.
11th House
This is a friendly placement. Both the partners are fully familiar with each other, may be they could be friends turned into lovers. The partner has a huge social circle and can be in the field of IT or technology and hence a high salary as well. There can be change of countries post marriage as 11th house is 8th from 4th house and hence they may leave the home country and settle abroad.
12th House
This is a deep soulmate type relationship. There is a significant past life connect with the spouse. In case of benefics the relationship will be deep, spiritual and the partners are mutually supportive. In case of malefics, there may be possibility for affairs for either person or the person may marry another secretly even continuing the first marriage. The couples could travel abroad or the partner travels and thus the person too accompanies. Sometimes, the person may forego marriage completely living a life of recluse.
For Relationship Readings DM
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sansaorgana · 28 days
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— DAMAGED GOODS
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PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Rabban/Harkonnen!OC
SUMMARY — The servants have been telling Baron Harkonnen many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his twin sister is close. Very close. Too close. The Baron only chuckles at that. He couldn’t care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha is a warrior he wants him to be and his sister remains out of his sight.
REQUEST — (1)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — The Reader is a Rabban/Harkonnen. I've described some of her looks – her skin is pale but not because she is *white* but because they're all pale (due to the pollution and lack of normal sunlight I guess). She has hair but it's white. I didn't describe the structure of her hair or anything and the colour is caused by the lack of pigment. Her facial features are not described in any way. Oh, and she has black teeth, too... 😁 It will be explained in the fic. I tried to make it an x Reader fic but, yeah, quite a lot about her looks is described. On the other hand, I hope it's understandable since she's Feyd's twin. I am very happy that I received this request because I've been itching to write something like that for a long time. 🤍
WARNINGS — INCEST, SMUT, non/dub-con, breeding
WORD COUNT — 6,610
🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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DAMAGED GOODS
Baron Harkonnen was ready to leave Lankiveil with his two nephews – small Feyd-Rautha in one of the female servants’ arms and teenage Glossu on whose shoulder The Baron was keeping his hand on. He didn’t have any heirs of his own so one day he’d name one of the boys his Na-Baron and give them his Harkonnen surname.
They nearly reached the ship when one of the female servants of Lankiveil ran up to them with a small bundle in her arms.
“My Lord,” she called out and The Baron turned around, irritated. The woman was terrified of him but she still had her duties. “What about the girl, my Lord?” She asked.
The Baron squinted his eyes at the child in her arms. Feyd-Rautha’s twin sister (Y/N) Rabban – he had no use for her.
“Give her to the Bene Gesserit or kill her, I do not care,” he commented as Glossu’s muscles stiffened under his uncle’s touch.
“She is my sister,” his eyes widened at those words. “Please, let her come with us.”
“You will soon realise that women on Giedi Prime hold no significance. A girl…” Baron Vladimir winced. “I do not wish to raise her. She will be a burden.”
“Then I will raise her. I will take care of her,” Glossu pleaded. “And one day you will find her a match, someone to marry to create a powerful alliance. She will be useful,” he kept convincing.
The Baron wanted to be feared even amongst his family members. But he didn’t want to be hated by his older nephew from the first day. Irritated, he sighed and waved his hand at the maid.
“Fine, I shall take her,” he sighed.
Hesitantly, the maid handed the child to Glossu Rabban as his uncle gave him a scolding look.
“You’re responsible for her now,” he reminded.
“She is my sister. Her place is with me and Feyd,” Rabban nodded.
About this one thing he was stubborn and about this one thing he would fight even his own uncle. Baron Vladimir decided it would be for the best to let the boy have it his way.
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(Y/N) and Feyd were raised differently – he was raised to be a strong warrior and his uncle’s pet. Relentless in combat, obedient to his Master, an enjoyer of pain. Inflicting it on others but also the pain being inflicted upon him. Psychotic and murderous. His twin sister was kept away from such an environment by her older brother. He wanted her to become a grand lady. Of course Glossu Rabban had no idea about women’s education but he made sure that his little sister had dozens of tutors. The smarter and more courteous she was, the easier it would be to sell her in a marriage union one day. It didn’t mean she was easy to manage. Ever since she was a little girl, she would cause trouble by following her twin brother everywhere and wanting to be as mischievous as him. He was given the Harkonnen surname and the title of na-baron. She was just Countess (Y/N) Rabban. Many thought she was actually Glossu Rabban’s daughter. Despite being raised differently, her and Feyd were inseparable.
They were not identical twins – she was a splitting image of her mother while he remained a mix of both parents. He was born bald like most of The Harkonnens, she was lucky to keep her hair even though it lacked pigment and was snowy white. The only thing in common they had was their sickly pale Harkonnen skin… and their blood.
The servants had been telling The Baron many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his sister was close. Very close. Too close. The Baron would only chuckle at that. He couldn’t care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha was a warrior he wanted him to be and his sister remained out of his sight and out of big trouble that would require him to intervene.
(Y/N)’s chambers were connected to Feyd’s with the tall, black doors. In fact, they resided in the chambers of The Baron and The Baroness Harkonnen. These chambers had not been used in many years before Feyd was given them by his uncle in his teenage years. It was only natural that (Y/N) followed to the room attached to his. But most mornings, the servants would not find her in her bed. She was being found in her brother’s embrace, their legs intertwined, her hands wrapped around his muscular chest. As if they were still two embryos in their mother’s womb.
She could swear, she could feel pain when he was experiencing it. And out of them two, only he enjoyed it. It brought her no pleasure to see his scars from their uncle’s punishments. She would kiss them all better, every thin line of scarred flesh upon his back would be soothed with her lips. She loved to watch him train, following him around like a puppy at first but then she grew to be a fine woman herself and she no longer gave such innocent energy. All the years of trying to be invisible for her uncle had taught her how to slither around the fortress like a snake; always observant, always on guard, always quiet and unnoticeable. 
(Y/N) focused so hard on not being a bother for her uncle that she forgot other people might notice her, too.
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The Baron was staring at the veiled old woman in front of him with a contemptuous smirk. Of course he would follow the Bene Gesserit's order in the end whether he wanted it or not but he needed her to see that he was not as easy to control as most of the lesser lords.
“What are you asking of me, woman?” He asked as he looked her up and down.
The Bene Gesserit sighed. She knew perfectly well that he had heard her before.
“I want to put Countess Rabban to the test of Gom Jabbar to see if she’s fit for the marriage union that shall be arranged between her and Prince Paul Atreides,” she repeated her words.
“I am not fond of that girl but she is the closest thing to a daughter I have ever had,” The Baron shook his head. “What makes you think I would give her away to an Atreides?”
“Atreides was supposed to have a daughter who would be a match for your nephew Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. His concubine gave him a son instead but it doesn’t have to mean the match cannot be arranged. After all, Feyd-Rautha has a twin sister sharing his genetic material with him.”
“And what do I get of this union?” The Baron snorted.
“Control over your enemy; The Atreides family,” the Bene Gesserit nodded her head.
“Control over them? By sending that girl over there?” The Baron laughed at the idea. “She’s a weak woman. She won’t have control over anything.”
“Paul Atreides is a boy of a gentle nature, I have tested him already. Countess Rabban will easily push him in all the directions you will ask her to,” the woman tried to convince The Baron. He knew that if he’d argue even further she would just use The Voice.
“Alright then,” he shrugged his arms. “Put her to a test. If she dies, you’ll be the one breaking the news to her brothers. I won’t deal with their pathetic tears.”
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Feyd didn’t know where his sister was. It was unusual for her not to wait in her chambers in the evening. Either way, he ordered the servants to fill the bathtub with water and then told them to leave as he sank into the warm liquid after a long day filled with combat training.
The doors opened after a while and (Y/N) entered the room. She had an odd expression on her face as if she was bothered with something and he spotted a few beads of sweat upon her forehead.
“Where were you?” Feyd squinted his eyes at her.
“The Bene Gesserit asked me to join her for a while. She did something weird to me,” she answered as she worked on her dress swiftly to take it off as quickly as possible.
“What do you mean weird?” Feyd tilted his head as he watched her undress. The folds of her skirt and bodice fell down to the floor and revealed her smooth skin and all the curves.
He had asked his older brother about their mother only once. His question had been about her looks. “What did she look like?”, young Feyd had asked. And all Glossu had answered was – “Just look at our sister”.
“She put me to a test. You’d like it,” (Y/N) smirked at him as she turned around to face him and join him in the bathtub. “It was painful,” she admitted and leaned her back on the edge, facing him. She let out a relaxed moan at the feeling of the warm water.
“She hurt you,” Feyd’s question was more of a statement as his jaw clenched.
“I’m fine,” (Y/N) let out a laugh at his reaction. “Such a strong warrior you are and look at you, your older sister is your weakness,” she teased.
“Twenty minutes older,” Feyd scoffed as she chuckled at his annoyance. “Age does not matter, I could snap your neck in a second, dear sister. You have no idea how to defend yourself,” he pointed out angrily.
“Grumpy, grumpy, Feyd,” she giggled as she moved closer to him and sat astride him. Her hands caressed his muscular chest. “Don’t be so sure I’m that helpless… I’ve been watching you train my whole life. I’ve learnt a thing or two,” she lowered her face to whisper into his ear.
He felt his cock twitching at the feeling of her body on his; her sweet breath on his ear, her whisper sending shivers down his spine. He knew she didn’t mind. In fact, she was feeding off of his desire; teasing him mercilessly over and over. One thing Rabban had made very clear was that she could not be touched by any man before her wedding. But it did not mean that Feyd hadn’t been fantasising about it many times before.
She was an absolute perfection. She was like a reflection in the mirror. And who could be more beautiful and breathtaking than Feyd-Rautha himself? She was his missing part like he was hers. They completed each other in many ways but in other ways they were exactly the same. Their heartbeats and breaths were in sync, their desires were the same and he could not tell anymore whether he craved her because of the strong resemblance or had he been the one to spoil her. His childhood experience full of violence and cruelty turned him into a hypersexual predator who would fuck anything and anyone. He had been the first one to put the sexual context into their innocent touches and kisses. On the other hand, she had played along very quickly.
In the whole wide world, his twin sister was the only person who knew and understood him. They had no secrets with each other.
“You’re getting too excited, brother,” she pointed out with a smirk as she threw her arms around his neck. He looked up at her face looming over his. She was even more beautiful like that – on top of him, in control.
“You’re mine,” he let out a raspy whisper as she raised one of her white eyebrows at him. “You’re mine and only mine. Forever,” he breathed out.
“That’s an interesting concept, Feyd-Rautha,” she smiled, “but you do know that our brother is raising me to be another man’s lady.”
“You will be my Baroness and if our brother stands in the way of that happening, I will slay him,” Feyd threatened and his sister moved uncomfortably at his words.
“Stop talking nonsense,” she rose up to leave the bathtub already but Feyd grabbed her by her hair and pulled her down again as she hissed out of discomfort. He hated to inflict pain on her out of all the people but sometimes he just… had to.
“I do mean that,” he drawled as her eyes widened at him.
“I know,” she only said and he licked his lips at the sight of her chest rising up and down as she breathed heavily. He let go of her and watched her leave the bathtub and the bathroom without a word.
Feyd left the bathtub, too. He put on a simple black robe and went back to his room. His sister was laying on his bed, completely naked and playing with one of his short knives in her hands. He sighed with relief at the sight. He expected her to be offended and go to her room before locking the doors for the night.
“I’ll be back in a while,” he told her and approached the doors leading to the corridor. She snorted and he froze.
“You’re like a dog, dear brother. You men are so easy to control with your sexual urges and desires,” she commented and Feyd clenched his jaw as he turned his head around to look at her.
“I’m trying very hard not to violate you. Don’t tease,” he warned.
“Your own sister?” She grinned, showing off her black teeth.
As a child, she had insisted on dyeing them just like her twin brother. Glossu had refused – it would make her look less appealing for the future suitors. Even The Baron had told her it had not been the best idea. (Y/N) had not listened. She had sneaked into the medical wing and had done it herself. At twelve years old she had ruined herself for the first time for Feyd-Rautha.
That had been the only time when Glossu had actually punished her physically. Feyd still remembered because he had been waiting for her by the doors leading to his brother’s chambers. She had been screaming and kicking her feet while getting her arse spanked. After leaving the room, she had sniffled all the tears back and grinned at Feyd with her new black smile. “I’ve gotten my arse whooped,” she had told him proudly as if it was an achievement.
Some time later she had been caught wanting to shave her head off but it was Feyd this time who had stopped her – telling her how much he loved it, how it was making her look different than all the other women around. How much power that hair was giving her. It had made her hesitantly put the scissors down.
And now, Feyd did not answer her teasing accusation as he left the bedroom to go to his concubines, leaving his sister alone. He would join her later, when she would already be asleep. He’d pull her closer and she’d open her arms to welcome him. He’d fall asleep caressing the soft curves of her body and feeling her heartbeat pressed to his.
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Two weeks later he trained as usual while (Y/N) sat nearby and watched. She would clap her hands excitedly each time he’d succeed and make a boo sound each time he’d lose. There was lots of mockery in her exaggerated reactions but he couldn’t imagine training without her around anymore.
At the sight of his brother entering the courtyard, Feyd lowered his blade and gave him an unpleasant look.
“What do you want? Why are you interrupting me?” He asked Glossu.
“I am not here for you,” his brother extended his hand towards their sister. “(Y/N), come with me. It is important,” he insisted and she whined. “Our uncle requires your presence.”
“Why?” Feyd barked. He did not like the idea of his uncle wanting something from his sister.
“It is none of your business, Feyd,” Glossu snapped at him and a second later he already had his brother’s knife pressed to his neck.
“Everything regarding (Y/N) is a business of mine,” Feyd hissed.
“Leave him alone,” she approached them as she ordered her twin brother. He took a step back and lowered the blade but only because it was her ordering him. She would always defend Glossu in all the arguments between the brothers. Feyd knew why – their older brother had been the closest thing to a father she had. He protected her, too. And that was the only thing Glossu and Feyd had in common. The love for their sister.
But only one of them loved her… so much.
She put her hands around Glossu’s arm and allowed him to lead her out of the courtyard. Feyd waved his hand dismissively at the servant he had been fighting with as he decided to follow them.
“Your presence was not requested,” his brother remarked.
“Don’t tease him so,” (Y/N) scolded him and he shut his mouth.
Glossu led them to the throne room where their uncle was sitting. But he was not alone. He had guests. Feyd and (Y/N) recognised them immediately from the pictures. The Atreides family – dignified and regally looking Duke Leto Atreides with his beautiful concubine Lady Jessica of The Bene Gesserit. Between them there was a young man standing – their son, Prince Paul Atreides. He was visibly trying to put on a brave face but he was scared and his eyes avoided the siblings who had just entered the room.
“Ah, here they are,” The Baron beckoned them over with his hand as he announced them. “My eldest nephew Count Glossu Rabban and his beloved younger sister, my niece, Countess (Y/N) Rabban.”
She let go of her older brother’s hand and stepped out to bow down slightly. Feyd sneered at that. He always would whenever she’d act like a lady – like their brother and uncle wanted her to. Like she had been taught to ever since she was a little girl.
“That insolent young man standing behind her is my heir and (Y/N)’s twin brother, Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” The Baron gave Feyd a scolding look.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, my Lords, my Lady,” Duke Leto nodded his head at all of the siblings.
“(Y/N), child, come closer,” The Baron cooed to her unusually. He would often put on such a show in front of important guests as if he wasn’t treating her like air most of the time. But Feyd was glad that his uncle actually ignored his sister. Otherwise it would be more difficult to protect her.
She approached the guests with furrowed brows, visibly confused by this situation. Feyd’s heart already squeezed inside of his chest as he had a feeling what that was about.
“You will be married to Prince Paul Atreides,” The Baron informed her as if it was nothing.
Feyd looked at Glossu first but his brother did not look surprised at all. He had to know already and it made Feyd feel even angrier as he treated it as betrayal. He shot his uncle a furious glance and then he laid his eyes on his twin sister. To his surprise, she was smiling softly at the shy and gently looking young man.
“It is a great honour,” she bowed her head and Paul Atreides flinched a little. She noticed it. “Do not be scared of me, my Lord,” she chuckled delicately. “I am nothing like my brothers.”
Feyd gritted his teeth. Without a word – rudely and risking his uncle’s punishment – he turned around and left the room.
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He saw her again in the evening. He had been training intensely for the past few hours, trying to let the frustration go. The doors leading to her bedroom were ajar and he peeked inside. (Y/N) was packing her things into black wooden chests.
“What are you doing?” Feyd asked her as his blood ran cold.
“I shall take a different room from now on. It is inappropriate for us to share one,” she muttered without even looking up at him.
“Since when do you care?” Feyd leaned on the wall and watched her carefully, trying not to show how much he was panicking on the inside.
“Since I am getting married soon,” she shrugged her arms and he snorted at her.
“You really think I’m going to allow this union, dear sister?” He asked and she turned her face around with her brows furrowed.
“You have nothing to say in that matter, brother,” she reminded him. “You are nothing but our uncle’s pet. The psychotic and fearsome Feyd-Rautha… If only they knew that you’re not scary at all,” she remarked as his jaw clenched.
“I will kill him if I must. That boy, Paul Atreides,” Feyd threatened.
“We both know you will not. It would have consequences greater than you and I can even imagine,” she smiled but he noticed the curls of her lips twitching. She was nervous.
“How can you not oppose this marriage?” Feyd let his guard down as he asked genuinely, expecting an answer just as honest.
His sister’s facial expression changed as well. She approached him and cupped his face in her delicate, soft hands.
“I’ve always known I would leave Giedi Prime eventually. I could only hope for a good husband and Paul Atreides is good. He is young and pretty and naive. My life as his Duchess will be easy and pleasant,” she explained softly. “I’ve always known I would leave Giedi Prime and I couldn’t wait for that day. I want to… No, I need to get away from here… from you,” she whispered as his eyes widened at her revelation. “You’re poisonous, Feyd-Rautha. You have spoiled me already, ruined me, stained me. And everywhere I go, our uncle’s sticky spiderweb surrounds me, suffocates me,” she finished before leaning in to place a gentle goodbye kiss upon his lips.
She wanted to move away but he grabbed her cheeks and aggressively pulled her closer once again, kissing her yet again but possessively and hungrily. She didn’t kiss him back this time.
When he finally let go of her, they were both breathing heavily but there was nothing but anger in their eyes.
“Stay away from me and stay away from Paul Atreides,” she warned her brother and he walked out of her room before slamming the doors behind him, furiously.
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But Feyd did not stay away. Whenever he was not in the courtyard, training vigorously and slaying his opponents one after another with the ferocity he had not displayed before, he would follow (Y/N) and her husband-to-be around the fortress. He didn’t trust any servant to spy on them for him, no, he had to do it himself.
Paul Atreides was left alone for two weeks on Giedi Prime and after that time he would take the Countess with him to Caladan. He was scared of his betrothed’s planet as he was widening his eyes at everything as she explained to him gently. Usually Feyd was catching them in the maze of countlessly corridors as they walked together. Soft laughter of his sister occasionally filled the cold marble walls. 
He was nearly always there; creeping in the shadows, watching, observing, gritting his teeth at her every smile or blush. Paul Atreides, visibly scared of her at first, was slowly starting to get used to her presence. And one day he dared to lean in and steal a delicate kiss from her lips.
Feyd clenched his fists at the sight as he was hiding behind the pillar. His sister’s lips had never been kissed before by any man other than him. His blood boiled when he realised that not only Paul Atreides would kiss her but also claim her as his own and put his weak and pathetic heirs inside her womb.
No, that could not happen. She was made for him, she was his other half. Feyd-Rautha would not let any other man take her away from him.
He turned around and quietly went to the living quarters where he found the room that now belonged to his sister. He barked at the servant girls to leave him and they ran away, startled by his anger. Once he was alone in (Y/N)’s bedroom, he patiently waited.
After a while, he heard her footsteps down the corridor. He would recognise them everywhere. He stood behind the doors as his heart pounded in his chest from the anticipation.
She pushed the doors open and walked inside, looking around for her servant girls. Feyd was standing behind her and observing her carefully, wondering when she’d notice him.
“I know you’re here,” she sighed without looking back. “I can recognise your stench,” she drawled.
He growled at her insolent words as he swiftly moved forward and grabbed her by her hair, pulling it by the roots and making her hiss out of pain. He pulled her closer to him, rested her body on his and smirked while pressing his cheek to hers.
“You’ve never seemed to complain about my scent before, dear sister,” he pointed out.
“I meant that you stink of sweat and blood at this very moment,” she fixed herself, still wincing out of pain he was inflicting upon her. “What do you want from me?”
“I saw you with him,” he breathed out.
“I know. I see you in the shadows every time,” she sneered. “I recommend finding a different hobby.”
“You’re mine. If you think I’m going to let you leave Giedi Prime, carry his surname and bear his filthy Atreides children in your womb, then you are mistaken, sister,” Feyd whispered angrily into her ear before biting on her earlobe.
She did not answer but in her eyes he spotted fear. Real fear, not her usual playful demeanour. For the first time in her life she was truly scared of her twin brother. Perhaps for the first time she understood why others feared him.
Still holding her by her white hair, he walked her to the bed and threw her on it. She immediately tried to crawl away and run away from him but he grabbed her ankle and watched her struggle with a smirk.
“Leave me alone,” she tried to command him. And usually he would listen to her orders but not now, too blinded by jealousy.
In one swift movement he brought her closer by her ankle and tore her dress and underwear open with his small knife. She looked up at him with anger, fear and a dose of excitement that made him smirk. Her body betrayed her – she wanted it, too. 
He was rock hard already at the sight of her like that for him. She was like a prey on display for him to feast upon. Feyd licked his lips and turned her around. He took his cock out of his leather pants as she tried to stand up on her shaky hands and legs to get away. Before she’d move too far, he pulled her close once again with a laugh.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he threatened and pressed his blade under her chin.
On her hands and knees with her beautiful white hair resting on her back – he had been dreaming of claiming her from behind this way for years now. She was trembling out of fear and anger but she couldn’t scream for help when his blade was so close to her larynx.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned in closer to her ear. “You’re my other half.”
He felt her swallowing thickly under his blade as he smirked to himself and moved the knife away. Before she could scream, he pushed her head down into her pillow, muffling any sound that would leave her mouth.
“No Atreides will fuck you. No other man will at all, for that matter,” he barked at her, his cock twitching already at the sight of her exposed womanhood. “You’re mine,” he reminded her.
She tried to protest but he couldn’t understand the words she was saying. He pressed her head even deeper into the pillow and with his free hand he ran across her folds, finding her clit and pinching it as she squealed and kicked her feet.
She was so delicate and sensitive, his dear sister. He took a deep breath in as he was starting to get dizzy from the sight and smell alone. He worked his fingertips around her sweet spot and noticed her muscles relaxing as her will to fight him off started to subdue gradually. At the first feeling of her warm wetness, he gathered it and brought his fingers to his mouth. Feyd hummed at the taste.
“Do you know what you taste like?” He asked her angrily and pulled her hair again. She shook her head. “Like me,” he pointed out. “Because we belong together,” he reminded her and she whined.
He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed her now. He pumped his hard cock a few times before lining it up with her tight hole. Feyd nearly felt bad for his sweet sister, for the pain she would experience now. But no feeling was stronger than his lust.
He entered her in one deep thrust while she yelped and writhed; even the pillow was not able to muffle the pathetic sound leaving her mouth. He closed his eyes at the feeling of her warm and tight walls spasming around his length. She was perfect, she was made for him and him only. They were finally complete again; one body, one soul.
“You will rule with me as my Baroness,” he hissed as his hips began to thrust into her. “We will bring back the old traditions, keep our bloodline pure. And you will give me heirs,” he crooned to her maliciously. “You were made to do that, sweet sister. Made for me. Me,” he kept repeating.
She drooled and sobbed into the soft silky pillow as her hands were clutching on the sheets. She was helpless under him but what she hated the most was that part of her that did not want him to stop. That part of her that felt the same way as her brother – complete at the feeling of him fucking her. Like she was finally connected to the long lost part of her body.
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head with each of his thrust, filling her so thoroughly, making her feel full and overwhelmed as he was hitting all the right spots inside of her. She knew that sweet and gentle Paul Atreides would never claim her this way. No one would. Only her twin brother knew how to please her. He understood her more than anybody else.
He spoiled her, he ruined her, he was poisonous. But who said she didn’t want it? Her body betrayed her as it admitted that she craved it.
What she feared were the consequences of this act. The consequences of breaking the fragile truce with The Atreides, the consequences of breaking up the engagement that had been not only prepared by The Baron himself but also plotted by the dangerous Bene Gesserit.
None of it mattered, though. None of it was important with Feyd's cock buried so deep inside of her, his hand pushing her face into the pillow and making her suffocate slightly, which only enhanced the pleasure. His free hand was squeezing her hip and marking it as he grunted and cooed to her all those blasphemous promises about their shared life together, their compatibility, their bodies being made for one another.
She came first; suddenly and without a warning. Her body spasmed and trembled as her limbs went numb. At the feeling of her tight walls fluttering around his cock, Feyd reached his peak right after but he did not pull out for a long time, emptying himself as deep inside of her as he could; straight into her womb.
His sister whined at the feeling of his thick, black cum coating her walls but now, after his release, most of his anger was gone as well, so he just caressed her head and shushed her.
“Shh, dear sister, just take it like you were made to,” he cooed and she didn’t have any strength in her body to fight it anymore.
When he eventually pulled out, he watched her pussy twitching deliciously as a small streamlet of his black cum leaked out of it and stained her grey sheets, mixing with a few droplets of blood.
“Now, when you’ve been claimed by me,” Feyd smirked to himself proudly as he hid his cock back into his pants, “no other man will want you. Not when you’re surely carrying my spawn in your womb,” he added and left the room without a word.
He refused to watch her laying there and sobbing silently, trying to collect her breath and clumsily stand up to go to the bathroom. Some part of him regretted his act and seeing his beloved sister in such a state was bringing him no pleasure. He couldn’t take this back now, though, and he didn’t want to. It just had to be done.
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The room was dead silent. Old Bene Gesserit woman was staring at Countess Rabban in disbelief and the young woman held her head down with her hands clasped around her abdomen as if she was protecting her spawn from The Reverend Mother’s gaze.
Both Baron Harkonnen and Duke Atreides looked displeased but only the second one was also visibly disgusted. His son was standing by his side; shocked and scared. Saddened. Disappointed.
Glossu Rabban’s face showed nothing but disappointment and disgust as well. His anger was aimed mostly at his younger brother. He refused to believe his sister could be as rotten as Feyd-Rautha – the only person in the room who actually looked proud as he straightened himself and smirked at everyone gathered inside.
“What are you smiling about, boy?” The Reverend Mother scolded him. “Have you got any idea what you have done?”
“I’ve claimed my sister as my own. It is an old tradition of the Great Houses to practise,” he reminded her.
“Which was abandoned a long time ago for a reason!” The Bene Gesserit snapped at him. “Your sister was supposed to give birth to Paul Atreides’ son and bring Kwisatz Haderach to life!”
“I do not care about your schemes,” Feyd rolled his eyes as he moved closer to his sister.
“Stay away from her,” Glossu barked.
“Or what? She’s already carrying my child inside of her, is she not?” Feyd asked, proudly as most of the room flinched with disgust.
“She can still bear Kwisatz Haderach,” The Baron tried to desperately save the situation. “We can get rid of that spawn inside of her and still give her to Paul Atreides. Obviously, not as a wife anymore,” he assured Duke Leto. “As a whore that she apparently is.”
Feyd clenched his jaw at his words as he took a step ahead of (Y/N) and covered her body with his from the sight.
“Over my dead body any of you will touch my sister or my child,” he drawled through gritted teeth.
“Inbreeding your bloodline might have morbid consequences,” The Reverend Mother informed him. “She’s carrying a demon.”
Feyd snorted at her. Was he supposed to be scared of her words? They only made him even more proud.
At those words, Baron Harkonnen squinted his eyes at the Bene Gesserit woman. He visibly liked the idea of having demonic heirs as well.
“I've changed my mind. We will not get rid of the child,” he decided. “Feyd-Rautha is my na-baron. If he chooses to marry his twin sister, then that is his right,” he said.
“That is plain disrespect!” Duke Leto raised his voice. “We have agreed to this union despite the bride being… not of the best quality. We have brought our son here, to this poisoned planet and nothing but humiliation awaited him here.”
Duke Leto pushed his son lightly in the direction of the doors as they walked out, offended. The guards looked at The Baron Harkonnen questioningly.
“Let them go,” he chuckled. “Soon, their time will come anyway.”
“Not before we secure young Paul Atreides’ bloodline!” The Reverend Mother widened her eyes at him as she ran after Duke Leto. “My Lord, please wait, I have another brides to offer that will suit your son just right…!” Her voice disappeared when the heavy doors closed behind them all.
“So, it’s settled,” Baron Harkonnen took a look at his nephews and niece as he puffed on his pipe and sighed. “You owe me for that, Feyd,” he pointed out and his young nephew bowed down. “I knew that you children would bring me nothing but trouble.”
“I am sorry!” Glossu exclaimed all of sudden as everyone looked at him, surprised. “I am sorry for failing, uncle! I was supposed to look after her, to protect her, to make sure everything goes right…”
“But everything did go right,” Baron Harkonnen laughed contemptuously. “(Y/N), darling, come here…” He reached his hand out and the young woman nodded her head before approaching her uncle, obediently. “When you were a little baby, I wanted to get rid of you,” he admitted as he held her hand. “Your brother Glossu was the one to convince me you would be useful one day. He swore to raise you.”
(Y/N) didn’t react to those words. She only stood there and looked deep into her uncle’s eyes.
“Turns out he was right,” The Baron continued, “you are very useful for The House Harkonnen. You will bear us strong heirs that shall take over the whole Empire…” He hummed and she nodded. “From now on, even before your wedding to your brother, you will be known as Countess (Y/N) Harkonnen. I adopt you,” he announced as her eyes sparkled.
“Thank you, uncle,” she let go of his hand to take a step back and bow her head down.
Feyd stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. Glossu was staring at them as if he wanted to kill them both at that moment. Even his baby sister whom he had raised was suddenly more important in the family hierarchy than him.
“You have my blessing,” The Baron told them and dismissed them all with a wave of his hand.
Feyd walked his sister out of the throne room with his hands still on her shoulders. He was as protective as ever with her now when she was in her delicate state.
He took her back to their shared chambers to which she had returned recently. He sat her down on the edge of his bed and approached the vanity table to get a brush before sitting behind her and taking care of her long, white hair. Delicately working on every small tangle, sniffing the scent of her favourite hair oils, smiling to himself at the thought he would have her for himself forever from now on.
“Are you happy, dear sister?” He asked as he gathered her hair to throw it out of her left shoulder and place a kiss on the exposed skin of her neck.
“We belong together,” she answered, her hands still clasped on her abdomen protectively as if that demonic spawn inside of her needed protection. “I was made for you,” she added.
She would not get away from Giedi Prime. She would not be given to any lord and run away from The Harkonnens. In fact, now she was a Harkonnen, too. Her fate was to rule alongside Feyd-Rautha as his sister-wife.
“I asked, are you happy, dear sister?” He repeated the question, squinting his eyes at her.
She took a deep breath in. She knew that he would know if she lied to him but she didn’t feel the need to hide anything from him. Therefore, she spoke the truth:
“I am.”
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MASTERLIST
638 notes · View notes
pucked-bunnie · 26 days
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and, what about you? ⎜q.hughes
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pairings: quinn hughes x reader genre: angst warnings: stressed quinn ⎜over-thinker quinn ⎜ synopsis: everyone knows the captain takes care of everyone, of everything - but who takes care of them? word count: 2.1 k authors note: Quinn was the clear winner of the poll, and this is essentially just filling my need for words of affirmation and how I hope someone takes care of our dear captain, it's a little shorter than normal but i hope you all still enjoy. (UNEDITED)
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The crowd roars as the Canucks win the game - the group of boys flooding the ice to congratulate each other, tapping on helmets as they make their way to the locker room. 
“I’m gonna head down to the locker room, meet you there?” Natalie shouts over the sounds of the blaring alarms and music - you nod quickly, your eyes locked on the captain skating over to his goalie, patting him firmly on the helmet hovering for a few seconds clearly praising Thatcher's game. The two teammates make their way over to the bench, the coach pulling Quinn to the side.
You watch Quinn’s shoulders slump a little and he nods his head, his coach patting him on the shoulder as he lets him walk down the tunnel into the locker room. You say quick goodbyes to the other partners in the area, slinging your bag over your shoulder. 
Your phone dings in your hand, the screen lighting up with a text message. 
quintin 😍: I’m gonna be a little longer than expected, I have to cover Brock's interview. 
pookie ♥️ ️ : Okay, take your time. 
You find a spot beside the entrance to the locker room, pulling out the AirPods tucked into your bag. Knowing Quinn him saying he was going to take longer then expected meant it was going to be over an hour before you would be seeing him. You scroll through your tiktok, making small conversation with the passing players as they join with their families making their own way home. 
Eventually you spot the reporters leaving, a few more team members filing out behind them, the crowds slowly dwindling in the main lobby, though Quinn was nowhere in sight. 
pookie ♥ ️ : everything alright? reporters left twenty minutes ago. 
Your message is seen quickly, the ellipsis popping up into your text thread before disappearing, the cycle repeating a few times before the bubble disappears, no response from Quinn. 
“Hey what are you still doing out here?” A familiar voice says as a body stops in front of you, you glance up at Brock giving him a soft smile as you take out an AirPod. 
“Oh, just waiting for Quinn.” You respond quickly, “He said he was covering interviews, but they left a while ago.” You note softly, Brock tilting his head in confusion. 
“Quinn wasn’t doing interviews tonight.” Brock eyebrows drop in a frown, his eyes darting back to the locker room before back down to you. “No one else is in there, if you wanna head in?” He suggests quietly, patting your shoulder before jogging over to his waiting girlfriend, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she greets him excitedly. 
You watch them for a few more moments, the happy couple leaving hand in hand before you turn towards the entrance, glancing around as you walk into the large room, it’s easy to spot the captain, his arms resting on his knees, his hockey jersey in the basket in the middle of the room, the rest of his gear still strapped to his body. 
“Babe?” You call softly, taking slow steps towards the deep in thought man, his hand raking through his hair a few more times before you call out for him again, “Quinn?” 
His head snaps up at your voice, his eyes darting around the empty room before focusing on you. “Oh shit.” He curses under his breath, his hand moving to undo the velcro straps of his chest pads. 
“Quinn, are you okay?” You question as you drop on the bench next to him, watching as he rushes to take off his remaining gear. 
“Yeah, of course.” He says quickly, shooting you an apologetic grin as he pulls the pads over his head. “Just got lost in thought.” 
You glance over to Quinn every now and then as he makes quick work of his uniform, pulling on a large hoodie and sweatpants, grabbing his phone and wallet from the shelf of his locker before turning towards you. 
“I’ll shower when I get home.” He promises as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your cheek, his fingers twining with yours as he grips your hand tightly. You wrap your other hand tightly around your joined hands, lifting them to press a kiss against the back of his hand. 
“You played amazing today, Quinn.” You praise, letting your hands drop to swing between the two of you as Quinn leads you both to the garage, pulling his car keys out of his pocket. “I’m so proud of you, you’ve done so much for this team.” You continue, Quinn shaking his head, his hand releasing yours as you both climb into the car. 
“We still have play offs to get through.” Quinn says with a long sigh, his eyes focusing in front of him as he pulls out the parking space, making his way out of the garage. Quinn’s body stays tense as his eyes remain forwards, his focus anywhere but on the way you watch him, your eyes looking over all his signs of discomfort. 
Quinn stays silent for the fifteen minute drive back to your apartment - game nights usually meant your boyfriend stayed at your place, Elias and Quinn enjoying the time apart to wind down. 
You follow behind Quinn as he makes his way to the elevator, his hand not reaching for yours like he normally would, his body pushing him to make it into your cozy apartment. He unlocks your front door with his spare key, dropping the bag from his trunk besides the front door, kicking off his sneakers. 
You sneak in behind him, softly closing the door as he runs his fingers through his hair, his hands rubbing at his face. “Quinn, I want you to answer me honestly.” You begin softly, leaning against the back of your couch, your hand clasped in front of you. “Are you okay?” 
“Huh?” He asks, his hands dropping from his face, “of course I am.” He answers quickly, he tries to smile, to erase your concern, but his smile falters as you remain silent, your brows furrowed in concern. 
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” He says, “I mean I’m living the dream right, playing my favourite sport for a living, captain of the team I’ve played on for six years, we’re going to the playoffs and I’ve got a beautiful girlfriend to top it all off.” He continues his voice carrying a sharp edge to it. 
You continue the silence, hoping that maybe making him face the discomfort will give you a look into his mind. 
“What do you want me to say?” He finally asks, throwing his hands in a shrug. 
“I don’t know… I just want to know what’s going on inside your head.” You respond, “I want to be able to help relieve some of your stress. I wanna be able to take care of you if you’re not feeling great.” You add, watching as Quinn’s mouth drops in a frown. 
“I don’t need you to take care of me.” He snaps, his tone more hostile than expected, your body pushing off the couch as you move to step forwards, your boyfriend taking a step away from you. “I’m supposed to take care of you” He says, pointing towards you for emphasis, “That’s my job. I’m supposed to take care of things at home and at work, that’s what a good leader does.” 
“And, what about you?” You question softly, your arms crossing over your chest, a feeble attempt at trying to keep yourself together. “What about you, Quinn… Who takes care of you?” 
You watch the emotions flash over Quinn’s face whatever facade he had kept going for the past twenty four hours faltering. 
“Babe, you have so much on your plate right now, so much responsibility… let me take some of it, even just for a little while.” 
“Why?” He asks, his voice barely a whisper. 
“Because that’s my job.” You answer, “Because if you’re not going to take care of you, then I will. Because relationships are about lifting each other up but sometimes we just have to catch each other when we fall.” Your words are gentle as you step towards him. 
“Quinn, it’s okay to fall sometimes.” Your heart sinks as you watch his face crumble, a heavy sob escaping his chest as you close the distance, pulling his body to yours. Quinn remains stiff as you wrap your arms around his neck, his face dropping against your shoulder as his body shakes. 
“I’m just so tired.” His voice cracks as he speaks, finally his arms moving to constrict around your waist, your body the only thing grounding him. “I feel like I can’t breathe.” Another round of choked sobs rip from him, one of your hands gently soothing over his back, the other smoothing the back of his head. 
“You’re going to be okay.” You coo, your throat constricting as you swallow down your own tears, your heart cracking in two at the state of your boyfriend, the hurt in his voice. 
The two of you remain in the lounge room, your arms wrapped around each other, stuck in a standstill as Quinn lets out everything that had been weighing him down, his sobs slowly turning into sniffles, his arms squeezing around you when you move to step back. 
“No.” He grumbles. 
“Come with me.” You whisper, finally detaching him from you, your hands grabbing his as you pull him towards the couch, you take your spot lying down on the cushions before motioning for him to follow. Quinn seems hesitant at first, his breathing shallow before he nods joining you on the couch, his body thrown over yours, his head pressed against your chest as you resume your ministrations on his back, drawing soft shapes against his jumper. 
“Share something with me.” You say, “Give me something to hold onto for you for a little while.” 
“Like what?” He speaks against your shirt, the words muffled slightly by the fabric. 
“Anything.” He takes a deep breath at your words. 
“Rick said something to me today.” He starts, you nod slowly recounting the coach pulling the young captain aside, your hand raises to the collar of Quinn’s hoodie softly slipping under the fabric to continue your soothing on his skin. “He said he was proud of me.” 
Your movements pause, waiting for Quinn to elaborate. 
“He said that he couldn’t think of a better leader for the team, and that he knew that I was going to take us further than anyone imagined.” Quinn lets out a long sigh, “I just can’t find it in me to believe him.” Your eyebrows raise at his comment, your head tilting as you consider what to say. 
“You’re not proud of yourself?” 
“I don’t know.” He mumbles back. “I know I should be, but a part of me just feels like I haven’t done enough, like I haven’t achieved enough to feel pride.” 
“Well, that’s okay.” You start, “I can be proud of you for both of us.” Quinn raises his head, resting his chin against your sternum as he glances up at you. 
“Really?” 
“I’ll just hold onto it until you're ready, no matter how long it takes.” You smile as you watch Quinn’s face relax a little, his own smile light on his face, as he leans forwards pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. 
“You have no idea how special you are, Quinn.” You remind him as you raise your hand to push his floppy brown locks out of his face. “But I hope one day you let yourself feel it.” 
“And, what about you?” Quinn asks, throwing your own question back in your face. “Do you know how special you are?” 
“Probably not, but I’m trying my best to figure it out.” You smile once more, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before reaching to the coffee table for the remote. 
“I should go shower.” Quinn says as he drops his head back to your chest, his body making no moves to walk down your hallway to the bathroom. 
“You probably should.” You agree with a laugh as Quinn grabs one of your hands placing it back in his hair, a soft sigh of content escaping him as you scrape your nails against his scalp.  
“Thank you.” He whispers, his eyes squeezed shut as you press one more kiss to his head. 
“You don’t have to thank me, it's my job.” He lets out a soft chuckle, his body relaxing further as he falls asleep to the sound of mindless reality TV, your chest swelling with the pride of two people as you glance down at your boyfriend finally resting. 
633 notes · View notes
hisunshiine · 3 months
Text
—revelations under the moon
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🌙 pairing: alpha!namjoon x omega!reader 🌙 au/genre: ABO au, fated mates au, angst, smut 🌙 series rating: M 🌙 wc: 9,468 🌙 series warnings: mentions of an off-screen character death (barely a character tbh), brief male masturbation, thoughts of 'cheating' (if they aren't true mates though..is it?), cursing, retelling of a fake historical fable that includes VERY brief mentions of murder and suicide as the consequence of a tragic hero's hubris explicit sexual content: biting, marking, knotting, semi-rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare 🌙 an: wow, i did not think i would get this out in time, january was a rough month for me, but my grandpa just finished his last lung cancer treatment last week, and im trying to just balance all the stress of real life, but yeah, i think it's getting better. thank you to my beta readers, @downbad4yoongi @moonleeai and @peachiilovesot7 i appreciate all your help, whether you helped in december or in february, it is much appreciated, as always. you're the best hype squad. this is also my first ABO story, so if you hate it don't tell me. LOL 🌙 summary: "When crescent rises, we shall rise as one, Aligned with moonrise, our time has begun." Alpha-heir Namjoon and his long time sweetheart are thought to be the next pair to rule Highscrest, but when Duskfall is attacked, the heir makes a decision that changes the course of not only his and his girlfriend's destiny, but yours as well.
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This story is part of the "New Year, New Me Love" @bangtanwritershq gift exchange, written for the lovely @colormepurplex2! Happy Valentine's Day!
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🌒🌒🌒 Tuesday - Waxing Gibbous
The loud chatter of the crowd irritates you; your senses are on overdrive after the past two weeks you’ve had. Packing and moving everything you own across the river during the New Moon was unexpected—almost as unexpected of it being a result of a peace treaty signed by the Beta of your old pack after the death of Alpha Tyvrin. 
A Beta jostles you in an attempt to move closer to the raised platform at the far end of the civic center, and you shoot him a quick glare before turning your attention back to the men on stage to avoid any drama. An Omega glaring at a Beta isn’t as bad as if it was an Alpha, but insubordinate enough still. The new tribe members do not know your previous role in Duskfall and have every right to challenge any hierarchical disrespect.
“Quiet, please,” a voice rumbles quietly, but everyone in the room follows the directive. You recognize the Alpha Father, or the father of the Alpha-Heir and most recent Pack Alpha of Highcrest, at the podium. Your irritation drops as your senses can finally focus now that the room is silent. The smells of so many new pack members still suffocates your olfactory system, but it’s bearable now. One scent seems to overpower the rest, a clean forestry smell that seems to dilute the others. “Good evening, and thank you all for coming tonight. We hope you all have been acclimating to the changes these past few weeks. If you have any concerns, please reach out to any of us here.” 
The Alpha Father waves over his son, stepping aside to let him take the lead of the rest of the meeting. Your eyes drink in the lithe movements highlighted by the fit of his suit. “Thank you, Alpha Father. For those of you who are joining us from Duskfall, at the time of the New Moon three months prior, I began the ascension steps. Right before your arrival, I had just finished the last of the three trials. All that remains is the bonding.”
You look around the room to see if anyone else is having the same reaction to his voice as you are—the crowd is transfixed; all attention is on the Alpha Heir Kim Namjoon. He’s young, almost thirty, but commands the stage. It’s not just because he’s handsome, though the blue suit and his dark brown hair help. His aura oozes from afar, your inner wolf screaming at you that this is a man you would follow and it’s your turn to receive a dirty look as you bump into the person in front of you. You turn back to the stage, ears attuning to his baritone as he continues.
“—final ceremony will take place in three days, and as you all know, I will be selecting my mate. I know that there are many newcomers who may be wary of joining the pack with all of these changes happening so soon, but please have faith in us. Highcrest will protect you all, and we will be at full strength as soon as the full moon rises in a week.”
Some applause breaks out, and his confidence soothes the wolf inside you that worries about this treaty. Highcrest sits on the eastern side of the Twin Rivers split, atop the range that leads to Twin Falls. Your previous pack, Duskfall, was integrated into Highcrest two weeks ago after Shadowhide attacked and killed Alpha Tyvrin under the cover of the New Moon, in a successful attempt at taking the land between the two streams. 
The fertile soil and access to the freshwater source has been a source of contention between Duskfall and Shadowhide for decades, and while a group consisting of the Alpha, Beta and his best warriors patrolled your western border, Shadowhide attacked. The Beta and a few others escaped by the grace of the moon, which gave the pack enough warning to prepare and kept Shadowhide at bay now that the act of surprise was gone. With the Alpha slain and the clock ticking before Shadowhide invaded, the Beta had no choice but to reach out to Highcrest for help. A peace treaty was signed, allowing all pack members of Duskfall to join Highcrest in exchange for their commitment to the pack. Any members who were against the treaty were allowed to leave of their own volition and go back to the main city, or find a pack of their choosing, but with the danger of Shadowhide’s takeover imminent, everyone agreed to travel east across the river and up the mountain range to the safety of Highcrest.
“Thank you to all of Duskfall’s former pack for all of your patience with us as we’ve worked to create a space for all of you here in Highcrest. After the ceremony, which is open to all unmated Omegas, everyone from Duskfall will officially be of Highcrest, and those who have not yet finished their commitment rites can do so at that time.”
You watch as Kim Namjoon waves over a tall, slender woman with sleek hair falling down her back. She is the picture of elegance, her walk stalking forward in a hypnotic fashion as she steps beside the Alpha-Heir and speaks to the crowd. You recognize her from the Apothecary you’ve been training in ever since you’ve settled into your new life here.  
“Good evening, everyone. I’m Min Everlight, an Omega of pack Highcrest. I am the head healer for the pack, and if Alpha Namjoon is ever unavailable, please come see me down at the Apothecary. I’ll help in whatever capacity I can in his absence.” Her hand moves almost subconsciously towards his, and they intertwine fingers. “We have committed our lives to this pack, and all of us up here will do our best to provide for Highcrest. Please stop by the apothecary this week if you haven’t yet received the Aconite to remove your Duskfall markings in preparation for your Highcrest one.”
Everlight stays linked to Namjoon as he takes a slight step forward to end the meeting.
“When the crescent rises,” he begins, and the people around you intone their response. 
“We, too, shall rise.”
Walking under the waxing gibbous, you and your Beta roommate, Sana, wave goodbye to one of your elderly neighbors. You’ve been checking on all of the members of your old pack, helping them in any way you can to get them acclimated after work. You go home tired every night, but you want to make sure this merger works.
Sana skips ahead as your new home comes into sight, singing the Alpha-Heir’s praises. “He’s so brilliant, I promise you this is the best thing that could’ve happened to us. And Min Everlight? She’s amazing, right? You’ve been working under her these past couple of weeks, isn’t she effervescent?”
You laugh at her excitement, answering her vaguely as you unlock the door to your shared home. “She knows her stuff, that’s for sure. I’ve learned a few new things already since we’ve been here, but most of it I already knew.” Sana dreamily wanders to her bedroom, ignoring your slight diss and chattering mostly to herself about how wonderful tribe Highcrest is. You plop onto the couch unceremoniously, thoughts on Min Everlight. 
Everlight is effervescent, with an inner glow that makes her the perfect Omega as mate for the Alpha-Heir. You’ve heard from the other women at the Apothecary that she and Namjoon have been dating for years. Longtime sweethearts and—if their little show on stage meant anything—his choice for his mate. This thought makes you feel sick, because ever since you walked away from Duskfall and followed him to Highcrest, your heart has thrummed for him. 
Taking a deep breath that you let out with a sigh, you change your line of thinking before you venture towards a vitriol hatred of your soon-to-be female leader. Min Everlight has been nothing but motherly and nurturing to all of you since your arrival, but the more you see her all over the Alpha-Heir, the harder it is to like her. Not just because of her romantic relationship with Namjoon, either, but that she represents everything that you almost were, and reminds you of everything you lost.  
You scratch at your upper arm over your shirtsleeve, where the Aconite serum you rubbed on earlier dissolves your Duskfall tattoo in preparation for your Highcrest one. The Aconite is diluted and mixed with other herbs to prevent poisoning that would weaken you before the ceremony. Sana disappears into the shared bathroom to shower, and you close your eyes for a moment not meaning to fall asleep as you wait for your turn.
The moon goddess blesses you with dreams of Duskfall past, memories of your destined path as the tribe’s Luna-to-be—the Omega paired to the now fallen Alpha Tyvrin—and you wake to the reality that all you have trained for was for naught.  
🌓🌓🌓 Wednesday - Waxing Gibbous
Or, more like you wake with the sudden slam of a door, sitting upright as you squint to keep back the sunlight. 
“Damn, you slept on the couch?” Sana questions, looking cheery and well-rested.
You clear your throat to answer. “Yeah, I guess so. What time is it?”
Sana glances at her watch. “Um, it’s half past eight.”
“Shit, I overslept, and I’m supposed to meet with Everlight again today.” You stand abruptly, and begin organizing all of the large pillows on the couch, laying the blanket just so until you hear Sana laughing at you. You look up at her with a glare. “What?”
“I think you might be in pre-heat. You’ve fluffed that pillow at least three times, and that blanket cannot be folded over the back of the couch any more perfectly unless you’ve got a protractor in the cabinet.”
“There’s no way, it hasn’t been enough time since the last one.” You ignore her as you clamber back onto the couch, tucking your legs up under you seemingly forgetting your plans for the day.
“Your heat is probably gearing up because of some Alpha at the meeting last night. With Tyvrin gone, rest in moonlight, you’re no longer taking the suppressants are you? With everything that’s happened, it makes sense that you’d forget,” she theorizes, “and apparently Highcrest doesn’t have that practice here.”
You can’t believe you’ve forgotten. In Duskfall, you were chosen by Alpha Tyvrin to be his mate, and asked to take suppressants until the ceremony. This was to help to prevent you from having a heat, decreasing your pheromones from triggering any non-bonded Alpha’s into their ruts and endangering you. These past few weeks since the move, you haven’t been taking any suppressants, and you’re sure by now it's run its course and is out of your system.  
“They don’t practice that here?”
“No, weren’t you listening at the meeting? The Alpha-Heir doesn’t choose his mate the same way like in Duskfall. Highcrest has a different ceremony. All unmated Omega’s can be part of it.”
“But isn’t Everlight most likely going to be chosen anyways?”
“I hear there’s blindfolds involved, so maybe instead of sulking, and filling the apartment with your sour scent, you can just join the ceremony and give it a try.”
The news fills your chest with what feels like sunbeams, and you smile at the Beta as you relax into what you’re now realizing is a nest.
“Ah, the room smells so much nicer now. Also—you’re late.”
🌓🌓🌓 Wednesday - Waxing Gibbous
Kim Namjoon sits patiently outside the Apothecary, waiting for Everlight to finish for the day. He can sense her inside, her scent a fresh scent of clean linen, just brought down off of the line after soaking in the sun. It’s always been the strongest scent to him, out of all of the women in Highcrest, and he’s sure that the Moon Goddess will prove her to be his mate this weekend when he ascends to his Alpha status. 
Fingers drumming along his clothed knee, he hums to himself as he watches the sunrays filtering through the trees as it sets. The small bell above the door chimes as small groups of girls and women of all ages trickle out from the shop—Everlight hosted a gathering after work for all of the newcomers to review the Highcrest ceremony procedures for women, and they all bow respectfully when they catch sight of him seated in the chair near the door. 
Namjoon can’t help but wonder what else they were working on today, his nose itches to investigate whatever new tonic or serum she’s put together this time—the smell is amazing. Like a warm honey coating his tongue, hints of bourbon with small bursts of brown sugar peaking his interest. He hopes it’s not something inedible, like the Aconite serum, and his curiosity getting the better of him, he stands, unbuttoning his suit jacket and moving to peer through the small glass windows framed in the center of the door. 
Ah, he thinks as he takes in one of the new pack members, Everlight must have let one of the Duskfall women teach a new tonic. Namjoon recognizes you through the dusty glass standing in front of the group, and remembers that his Beta, Seokjin, had pointed you out from afar when you first arrived.
🌑Two Weeks Ago 🌑 Monday - New Moon
“That’s Alpha Tyvrin’s mate, er—was his mate. They hadn’t actually had the ceremony yet, the attack happened before the full moon ceremony could happen, but she was set to be Duskfall’s Luna.” Seokjin’s finger points down the lane from the window of City Hall, connecting to a woman walking towards the villager housing area. Namjoon eyes you warily before posing a series of questions to his Beta.
“Will it be an issue to have two mature Luna’s in a pack? Should we offer to place her with another pack to mate with an Alpha?”
“I don’t know…I haven’t ever heard of something like this happening. Typically the Alpha has already mated the Luna, and since one cannot live without the other—”
“I see.” Namjoon understands why the Moon Goddess would create such a fate for paired leaders. “Had the ceremony already happened, she would be buried next to him. It could be a help, now that we have so many more people, to have two strong healers in the pack. Maybe she could travel on patrols in case of an attack?” He wonders how Everlight would react to finding out that there’s another Luna-trained Omega in the pack, and if this would be a way to spin it to lessen any blowback. 
Seokjin looks thoughtful, eyebrows lifted as he tilts his head and gathers his words carefully. “That could be a good option for the second Luna, so that their training and skills do not go to waste, especially now that our pack has grown…It could also be worth mentioning—with so many new members, it would be a good show of faith if you were to perhaps choose the Duskfall Luna as your mate—”
Namjoon’s growl silences Seokjin momentarily but he presses on when he sees no claws being barred. 
“I’m just saying, nothing helps unite two packs better than having one of their own integrated into the upper levels of the hierarchy. If we want to keep peace and help Duskfall feel loyalty to Highcrest, taking their to-be-Luna as your mate would be the smart move. You and Everlight aren’t fated, so it’s not like our pack would frown upon it under the circumstances—”
Namjoon’s eyes cut like daggers as he stares his Beta down, almost dragon-like in ferocity as he contains his inner beast. “Everlight is my mate, Seokjin. I would never betray her like that.” 
🌓🌓🌓 Wednesday (present) - Waxing Gibbous
Looking at you now, Namjoon is glad to see that you and Everlight seem to have no issues working alongside each other. After reading through previous Alphas’ historical notes and reviewing the history of the packs of the Twin Rivers Valley, he decided that it would be best to keep you around, as he worries his newest constituents would revolt if they thought he had banished you from Highcrest. He spent the first couple of weeks talking to other elder members of Duskfall, and learned that a lot of the pack had come to rely on you as they became acclimated, that you had been going around to visit with them and check-in, and keep them all calm with the changes happening. 
He appreciated that you had taken this on as a duty, especially when you were dealing with the biggest blow of all. Namjoon meant to meet with you to thank you, but the longer he took, the more it felt fake, rehearsed, and like an afterthought instead of what it really was: an Alpha-Heir not yet familiar with his role, and learning about you from afar made him feel like a weird stalker of sorts that he had all this knowledge of you and your skills from others.  
Your skills would be most useful to their pack, and though you were meant to lead the pack by an Alpha’s side, you could still maintain some modicum of that role, just as the second to Everlight. Namjoon is sure this plan will work. He plans to have a meeting with Seokjin and Everlight tonight, that way he can make sure that they will follow his plan without any issues. 
He knows he could just order everyone to follow along, but using his Alpha to force others to do what he wants doesn’t always work out in the long run. The history of the tribal lands and the fact that there were three distinct tribes from the original one, up until Tyvrin’s death, is proof of that. 
It’s much better for a leader to have the consenting loyalty of his pack, instead of forced fealty that brews contempt and derision. Namjoon steps back from the door to allow another person to exit, and once again, the honeyed bourbon seeps through the opening. It’s much stronger this time, urging him to his feet almost against his will. 
He feels his blood thrumming, pounding through his veins like a rushing river. Namjoon checks his forehead, as if feverish, and notices his hand comes back with a sheen of sweat. It’s like he’s gone into pre-rut, which would be crazy. He’s pretty regular when it comes to his ruts lining up with Everlight’s heats, and she’s still not due for a little bit…
Namjoon stumbles backward, taking the three steps back to solid ground quickly as he tugs at the collar of his buttoned shirt. He’s too hot, it’s all too much, he has to do something, move, but he’s in the middle of the town, there are people who look to him to be more restrained than this standing all around…Namjoon trips a little on the gravel beneath his feet as he takes off back towards City Hall and away from Everlight, afraid that if she is due for her heat and his pre-rut was triggered by that, he would mount her right there in front of the last few people in the store and fuck her hard against the counter, not caring if everyone saw the powerful way he drove his cock in and out of her until he filled her with cum and knotted her.
He’s locked himself in his office, blinds closed with his fist wrapped around his thick length as he imagines it: his hands firm on the plump rounds of ass, spreading the cheeks apart as he spits between them, Omega slick lathering his cock with every stroke and the tight walls sucking him back in with every pump out, and when he cums—copious amounts leaking around his large hand—it’s only then that he realizes that it wasn’t the clean linen-scented Everlight he was imagining taking his knot.
🌔🌔🌔 Thursday - Waxing Gibbous
You’re irritated—more so than you’ve been since your entire life was turned upside down two weeks ago. The Beta that’s always around the Alpha, Seokjin, randomly showed up at your place in the morning saying you were tasked to go on a supply run to the nearest city. It makes sense—Seokjin explained that the Alpha had handpicked everyone in the group to help new pack members meet others and start to learn their ways, and you appreciate it, except for the fact that you don’t want to be far from home right now. 
In fact, because of the upcoming ceremony, Everlight had let all of the women training in the apothecary have the next few days off, as she expected to be chosen and wanted to prepare herself and her home for what was to come. You had mixed feelings when she initially announced this to everyone, because while you enjoy the respite from the constant go-go-go of changes around you, the reason behind it left you feeling miffed. 
All of yesterday, you spent time working at the Apothecary and were even asked by some of the others to show them some tonics and potions that they had never heard of, and while you enjoy teaching others, it’s quite draining to go through the motions while talking through every step you make, and why. The girls quietly scribbled down your words in their notebooks, committing your teachings to paper, which made you feel good about yourself, until reality hit about your future. 
It almost didn’t feel fair that you were so new to the pack and already others were looking to you to train and teach them new things, meanwhile another person is slated to take the position you’ve wanted and trained for your whole life. 
Shaking away your thoughts, you tap back into the moment, finally having arrived in the bustling city a little past mid-day. You hate all of the smells; the odor rising from the sewer grates and scents from the people who jostle you as they rudely push past your group. You hold back the urge to plug your nose, sighing out a weighted exhale as you follow Seokjin through the automatic sliding doors and into a grocer’s market. 
🌔🌔🌔 Thursday - Waxing Gibbous
Back in the forest, a half day’s trip from the city, Kim Namjoon spends his time in his office again, hiding out from his duties by disguising them as last minute studying and planning for the ceremony. 
He couldn’t bring himself to meet with Everlight the previous night, instead calling Seokjin only to discuss the plans for the supply run. He looked over the list of items Everlight needed in the apothecary, and only because the winter months were starting to fade away into spring meant this would be the last expensive trip until winter came again. 
Bees do not make honey in the winter, so why can’t he explain away the coincidence of the honey bourbon smell and the note written in Everlight’s scrawl next to the requested item underlined twice: Honey — we’ve been out for ages!! He doesn’t want to believe that he could be feeling this way for someone other than Everlight, but of two things he knows for sure: he smelled honey, and Everlight is distinctly NOT a honey smell. 
Seeing that on the list had Namjoon rise with a wild idea, to send the other Luna far, far away for the day, to help him clear his mind. In reality, he paces his office, wearing thin the once plush carpet with his worried steps until he can’t take it anymore. Crossing the room, he walks with such a force that no one dares to question where he’s off to. 
He knows where you live, knows that your Beta roommate Sana should be home, and when he knocks on the door with authority, he expects Sana to fling the door open so hastily that the movement sends the mixed scents of the apartment wafting out at him. Instantly, he expects his spine to straighten as his whole body is overwhelmed by the truth—except that never comes. No one is home, as a kind older woman politely points out to him after his third attempt at knocking. 
“Those girls went into town today, it seemed like the Luna had to drag Sana along with her,” she chuckled, clearly a pack member who was fond of the two women. “Did you want me to tell them you stopped by?”
“No! I mean—no need to worry them about my visit, I can talk to them tomorrow, thank you.”
He swiftly departs, deciding to just head home instead of back to the office for some peace.
“Joonie!”
Barely having set foot in his residence, Namjoon is bombarded with the irritating scent of laundry detergent. It’s too pungent; overwhelming in a way that he’s never experienced before. He catches himself before his nose wrinkles and Everlight ascends into his arms. He hugs her back, planting a soft kiss to the side of her head in an endearing manner before she pulls him into the dining room for an early dinner with his parents. 
Namjoon spends the evening engaged in conversation with his parents and Everlight, avoiding talks of the ceremony as best he can—despite his mother and girlfriend's best attempts. His dad eyes him warily—in that cunning way that only another Alpha can—sensing the change in the dynamics within the room. Namjoon is grateful his father remains quiet, simply watching the conversation over the nightcap of barrel-aged Cabernet Sauvignon from their cellar.
Once they call it a night and his parents disappear to their room, Everlight begs Namjoon to stay over, and unable to say no to the woman he’s never said no to before, he relents. He regrets this decision almost immediately, as his hopes that Everlight would help him take his mind off of the one thing that’s been at the forefront of it are crushed.   
“She’s just really good at healing. She knows a lot, like I can’t believe I’m even admitting it, but she knows things that I don’t. And the things I have been able to teach her, she learns it so quickly and easily. I’m actually kind of jealous.”
Namjoon can tell; Everlight’s face is scrunched up in a way that makes her look unattractive, and he doesn’t know what to do or to say to make her feel less insecure. 
“Maybe it’s a good thing she is joining our pack. It’s important to learn and grow continuously.” It’s as diplomatic as he can be at the moment.
“Yes, but she’s trained as a Luna, just like me. It’s a little like she’s trying to take my spot. Yesterday, while I was teaching, the other girls asked her to teach them something I didn’t know, and I just had to stand there and let her take over my lesson. The girls were so focused on her and taking notes, it made me kind of hate her.”
She’s looking at him, her eyes trying to find something within his, but he looks away, reaching for the light next to his bed.
Everlight reaches for him, aligning her body to his as her fingers grip his shoulders so she can position herself atop him.
“That’s why I can’t wait for the ceremony, baby. We can finally be a true, mated pair. Start our forever, with me as your Luna. No room for confusion from the pack about who will bear your pups.” Her eyebrows waggle up and down suggestively as she lowers her lips to his plump ones. “We can practice now if you want, you can scent me, let all the bitches in heat know to back off.” She kisses him again. 
Namjoon kisses her back, but her laundry odor fills his nasal cavity and her words are so off-putting for the role she hopes to take on for the pack. He can feel her hands travel down his ribcage, but nothing about her touch turns him on. Pulling away from the kiss, he catches his breath as he readies his excuse.
“Babe, I think we should wait,” his large hands hold her shoulders firmly before his touch grows softer, palms smoothing up and down her arms in a soothing motion. “The ceremony is so soon, and I want it to be sacred…I know that might sound cheesy and un-Alpha-like but—”
“No, you’re right.” Everlight smiles softly at him, but he can see the hurt in her eyes at being rejected. “I’m just feeling overwhelmed with all of the new pack members and the changes happening, I think I got a little over excited.”
“I love that about you, you know? You’re excitement over things, and how you want to be the best version of yourself for our pack. You’re already an amazing Luna in your own right.”
Everlight excuses herself to the bathroom, and Namjoon clambers off his bed, bare feet leading him towards his cracked bedroom window. In the light of the almost full moon, he can now see the noises that drew his attention moments ago: returning members of his pack walking down the path to their homes. 
There’s no mistaking it now. A warmth blooms from his groin, spreading higher until his neck grows hot from it as his nose and mouth feel thick with the sweetest bourbon honey scent. With you unaware of his gaze as you laugh with Seokjin and Sana, he feels jealousy boiling into his chest.
“Mine.”
🌕🌕🌕 Friday - Full Moon
You wake up late on Friday morning, your body a little stiff and sore. You feel as if you slept with a heater on, sleep clothes clinging to your body due to the sweat that covers your skin. You try to shake it off, but the feeling doesn’t go away, even after a cold shower.
You’re not surprised you woke up mid afternoon after arriving back at Highcrest near midnight, but you suppose the excitement of what’s to come will keep you awake the rest of the evening. You have to meet the elders for the pre-ceremony rituals at the start of moonrise, so you eat a light snack in the hopes it won’t trouble your stomach too much. 
You know now that Sana is right. Your heat will kick in no later than tomorrow afternoon, with the confirmation of the night sweating and soreness symptoms appearing today, but you worry about what it will mean if you end up not being chosen…you’ll begin cramping and sink into Omega-space, leaving you vulnerable to other higher ranking pack members without a plan prepared to get you through your heat.
At quarter till six, you leave your home with a small bag of items and head to city hall, where Elder Aline waits for you and the other Omegas who planned to join the ceremony to arrive. Elder Aline was old—she worked closely with the Luna three times removed was in power, and lived to prepare both of her successors, and now would be helping to prepare this ceremony. 
You hug your bag to your chest as the last of the group arrives: Everlight. She only looks slightly surprised to see you in the group of seven Omega’s, but she fixes her facial features quickly and offers you a bright smile. 
“I didn’t expect to see you in the group!” Everlight’s tone is friendly enough, but the undercurrent of her words screams out territorial.
“Oh, yeah, my roommate said I should come as an unmated Omega to take part in the ceremony. It’s different from our previous pack’s tradition, and if I hope to carry out my duties and help with future ceremonies, the best way to learn is to be part of it, right?”
Your answer makes sense, perfectly curated to help push away any questions that dig too deep into your motivations, including yourself. Part of you knew that it would be beneficial to you if the worst comes to fruition, but the other part, the more primitive part, knows the real reason is because the wolf inside of you longs for your mate to be Kim Namjoon.  
Elder Aline calls for your attention, her weathered voice a calming stillwater that acts as a soothing balm to the nervous energy in your chest. She speaks to the group, sharing some information about how the rest of the night will play out before she leads your small group towards the outskirts of Highcrest, to the south of a small lake on the edge of the forest. The walk takes a bit of time to navigate the terrain, especially with an Elder leading. 
You allow her moments to pause and rest, clearly fatigued from traipsing through high grasses and uneven dirt, but soon enough you are there, and placed along the treeline, a small clearing awaits you. She makes quick work of explaining the first ritual’s steps, and you allow her voice to lead you through the routine. 
The cleansing ritual itself takes the better part of an hour, as everyone planning to participate strips down to enter the water under the light of the moon which now grazes the top of the trees. A small pouch filled with herbs and petals is handed to each of you to rid you of any lingering outside scents. You lather your skin, taking the time to clean every inch before stepping out to air dry. It’s colder than you expected, but no one wants to risk masking their scent for the ceremony. 
The elder had laid a simple white dress on the shore of the lake near your bag, and once dry, you sheathed your body with it, happy for the fabric to provide some warmth. She pulls a thermos from her bag along with small cups.
“Purified under the new moon,” she intones, handing you a steaming cup of tea. “Red azaleas, to pull out your emotions and attract your true mate.”
You sip it slowly, letting the heat warm your hands. The other women join you after the elder gives them each a cup, and you huddle in a circle, trying to stay warm.
“I think it’s good that we have so many of us for the ceremony,” Everlight speaks, her voice light and airy. “It would be a boring ceremony if I was here by myself.”
Her words were clearly chosen carefully, meant to sound like a compliment to the others for their company, while laying claim to the role not yet given to her by the moon. You bristle, feeling your body heat up. Her comments were starting to annoy you, because a true Luna was not insecure or haughty. She was a healer, a person that others could go to when they needed strength, compassion, or empathy. Everlight seemed to have forgotten this. 
“I think it is great that Highcrest’s tradition is different from ours, it feels more…pure.” You don’t know how else to describe it, but the act of having the alpha choose his mate through this ceremony feels like how it used to be. The elder hears you and her words confirm this. 
“This is the true ceremony. But come now, it is about time for us to begin.”
She leads you around to the north side of the lake. A small copse of trees had blocked the incoming sight, and now that you were closer, you could see the small gathering of pack members standing in a crescent.  
Directing you to step into the open space, she takes your cups from each of you as the seven of you line up with ample space between each other. You look around nervously. The cold you felt earlier when you were wet and naked exiting the lake was gone; you notice that you feel hot. You’ve felt hot since drinking the tea.
The crowd murmurs quietly to one another as you look around for Sana, finally finding her to the right near the top point of the moon shape they were standing in. She waves at you, a smile breaking across her face as she takes you in. 
All at once the noise in the forest dies out. The muttering follows suit, and Elder Aline steps before the crowd. 
“Before the great divide of the tribal lands, the Alpha’s mate was never set in stone until the ceremony was completed. Even if the Alpha had taken many lovers as a young pup, it matters not, for what the moon reveals is the truth. And an Alpha dare not disobey the moon, lest the pack fall weak.”
She then begins her tale of the history of the original tribe they descended from. 
“Many, many moons ago, we once existed as a proud and noble pack led by an Alpha of unmatched strength and wisdom named Lycaon. Under his reign, our pack thrived, united as one for the good of the group. We honored the ancient laws dictated by the phases of the moon, for we knew the moon's power was both a gift and a curse. Before the divide, we could shapeshift along with the phases of the moon.
But Lycaon, with his pride swelling within him like a thunderous storm cloud, began to question the moon's choice for his fated mate. He refused his fated Omega, instead choosing who he wanted, and not who our celestial goddess knew our pack needed. Ignoring the warnings of his most trusted Betas, Lycaon decided that his unborn son would also choose his own mate, not the moon.
At first, this defiance seemed to have no negative impact. But before long, cracks began to appear between pack members. By refusing the moon's guidance, the pack ended up with an Alpha-chosen Luna who was not prepared for her role. The rejected Luna fell melancholy, and took her own life, saying she could not watch the ruin of her pack. Some wolves found themselves unable to control their shifting, and began to attack their own kin in fits of madness. Other pack members grew weak—their bodies unable to withstand the impact of their dual nature.”
The entire crowd was enraptured hearing the tale, as Duskfall members did not know the history, and you are among them in learning the true history of the divide.
“As chaos descended upon our once-proud pack, Lycaon's authority waned as the full moon wanes. Desperate to maintain his grip on the pack, he resorted to ruling the pack with fear instead of respect. But his efforts only fueled the flames of discord, and soon, the pack was torn asunder by fights and betrayal.
In the aftermath of our pack's collapse, three new packs rose from the one, each led by a different wolf claiming to be the one true Alpha. They fought for the lands we stand upon today, with Lycaon’s son, Claudin, taking the hills to found Highcrest, and the other two packs fighting over the lower grounds.  Claudin knew that in order to reclaim the strength and glory we had lost, he must not allow pride or the greed for power seduce him into betraying the moon.”
A low murmur swept through the crowd. You knew your former packmates had the same thoughts running through their mind as you did—could this really be true? Was Alpha Tyvrin’s downfall predestined to happen in order to reunite the original pack? Elder Aline coughs, and you focus back on her.
“And so, this tale of Alpha Lycaon and our pack serves as a tale of caution for generations, a reminder of the dangers of hubris and the importance of respecting the ancient laws that govern our kind. Alpha Claudin rectified the treachery his father had done unto the moon, but we shall never shift again as punishment.”
A quiet settles upon the crowd, and the elder gestures to a group of children you didn’t notice before. They step towards each of you, and she asks you all to kneel. The small child before you has a face like a cherub, full cheeks pulled tight as he shows his teeth to you, eyes disappearing in his delight. 
He bequeaths a length of dark fabric, and his hands move so as to wrap the ends around your face, deftly knotting it behind your head. When you feel him step away, you stand back to full height. Your other senses are heightened, anxiety blossoming at what comes next. You hear footsteps, and sounds of awe and admiration sweep across the crowd stealing your nerves. You freeze in anticipation. 
“Alpha Namjoon has done what we once thought impossible, uniting two tribes where whence was three, and we must continue to follow the moon’s guidance. We must not deceive ourselves. The moon will not lead us wrong. It will not lead him wrong.”
Seconds tick by as you wait, eyes furiously trying to see through the thick material stealing your sight. Seconds turn into minutes and you can hear the faint rustling of bare feet traveling across the grass, the weighted foot falls accompanied by heavy inhales of the still air surrounding the area. You know the Alpha has entered the clearing—can feel a palpable shift in the energy as your body grows hotter by the second. His scent sings to you, and you whine lowly, wanting to follow it.
Again, the crowd responds to something unseen by you, this time it has your inner wolf crouching, tail down and ears back—showing submission. Another whine escapes you, a little louder this time. Your distress must be filling the area around you, you can sense the crowd’s movement, reacting to your scent. You begin to panic, fearing that a distressed scent would push the Alpha to choose another, not the scared, submissive and pathetically whining bitch in heat—
🌕🌕🌕 Friday - Full Moon 
Namjoon walks up to the clearing surrounded by his closest advisors, some of whom had been absent patrolling the borders and securing their land the past several weeks, and returned in time for the ceremony. As he approaches, the sounds in the forest quickly fade, as if sensing his arrival.
He waits for his signal to enter the clearing, far enough away that he can only smell the crowd of his pack members standing between him and the clearing where the Omegas will stand. Namjoon spent all day in the forest, away from town preparing for the ritual by hunting for game to be used for the meal to feed his mate before the knotting. He also had to follow the same cleansing tradition, bathing under the light of the full moon, drinking the purified new moon tea, and dressing in loose, white linen pants.
He tried his best to clear his mind from the events of the previous evening, and once he was away from the bustle of the town square, he found it easier to convince himself it was just a fluke. After years of being with Everlight, the idea of being fully committed must have made him feel a bit scared, so he latched onto the idea of something new, someone different…you. 
Now, after his mindful afternoon in the forest, he knows he just has to trust the moon will lead him to Everlight, his mate. He knows her scent, knows it like he knows the taste of his mom’s cooking or the sound of his father’s favorite whiskey bottle opening.
As the moon climbs higher, he waits, steadily listening as the crowd quiets and Elder Aline speaks, recounting the tale of the original tribe. As she gets close to finishing her tale, Namjoon is tapped on the shoulder by Beta Taehyung, who motions to the blindfold in his hand. 
“It’s time, Alpha.”
Namjoon nods, taking the blindfold from the younger male and covering his dragon-shaped orbs. He fastens the knot, and he senses when another one of his trusted Betas approaches him. 
“I have the pouch here. Make sure to smell it deeply before—” 
Beta Jungkook is interrupted by Namjoon. “I know, I know. Smell it deeply before I let my inner wolf out to track my mate.” He lifts an open palm so Jungkook can place the small, organza fabric reticule into his hand.
When he hears his name, he knows that’s his signal. He follows the sound of the elder’s voice to enter the clearing.
“Alpha Namjoon has done what we once thought impossible, uniting two tribes where whence was three, and we must continue to follow the moon’s guidance. We must not deceive ourselves. The moon will not lead us wrong. It will not lead him wrong.” 
Raising the small sack to clear his olfactory senses, he inhales a piece of his own clothing, a small handkerchief he kept on him all week. A trick using olfactory habituation to cleanse his palate from the surrounding smells, allowing him to only smell his mate. The crowd shifts, he can hear stilted murmurs about his physique being on display since he was shirtless as he walks past his pack. 
Stepping fully into the clearing, he inhales deeply, and instantly he picks up the laundry scent that he’s so used to being surrounded by. It’s definitely Everlight’s scent—he’s almost positive—but it has an edge to it, a slight tinge that he’s not used to smelling. The longer he stands there, the more the scent morphs into a cloying, headache inducing smell. It’s almost fake, a manufactured scent that doesn’t entice him. 
He steps away from the smell of it, noting an undercurrent of something nice. The crowd reacts, confused at his actions, but he doesn’t care. He knows he has to trust the moon. And that bourbon-honey scent? He wants more of that. Lifting the pouch again to his nose to rid it of the sickly sweet smell, he drops his hand after a few inhalations, allowing the soft honey smell to seep into his pores. It’s alluring, growing more seductive by the moment, but then it takes on the additional bitter scent of anxiety, and Namjoon worries that something is wrong. 
He can feel his inner wolf scratching to get closer, to protect, to save his mate—when he steps closer, the crowd reacts again, so he grabs at his blindfold, tearing it free so that he can get to you. He needs to calm you down, you need to feel safe, to know that your Alpha is here to protect you. He’s closer to you than expected, and the whine you let out calls to him in more ways than one. 
His body feels alight with flames, he can see you’re trembling. His hand moves without him thinking, gripping the blindfold and tugging it up and off your head. 
🌕🌕🌕 Friday - Full Moon 
The light of the moon feels blinding as you blink to adjust your eyes to the sudden return of your sight before it’s eclipsed by the broad body of the Alpha. His breaths are almost frantic, a heavy panting that moves his shoulders with each exhalation as his wild eyes roam your face. His neck gland is hidden by a tied piece of cloth, masking his scent partially and you want to bury your face into him, seeking safety and comfort. 
Your body responds to his proximity almost immediately, a simultaneous calming of the mind’s anxiety as physically you feel engulfed in a blaze, a sweat finally breaking out along your hairline as you’re thrown into full heat. Namjoon’s nostrils flare as he inhales you, his face looking triumphant as he kneels on one knee before you. He reaches for your hands, which tremble as he locks eyes with you. 
“Namjoon, what the hell?!” Everlight stands several omegas down from you, her face free of the blindfold, which now dangles from her fingertips at her side. She doesn’t move for a moment, not until she realizes the Alpha was not responding to her. Her steps don’t falter as she gets closer to you, but your scent grows sour as you take in the murderous look on her face.
Namjoon’s movements are quick and fluid. He stands and postures himself, keeping you protected behind him as he shoves Everlight back with one hand.
“Mine,” he growls. Everlight drops the blindfold, confusion blossoming upon her face. 
Namjoon turns to you, grasping your cheeks gently in his hands. “Mate.”
He throws his head back, and lets out a loud howl to the moon. 
Chaos ensues. The entire field grows loud as some pack members celebrate the ceremony’s success, while others gossip about the outcome. You can hear snippets of the conversations until another voice grows louder, shouting at the Alpha. It’s Everlight, your brain registers, she’s angry, her sour scent wafting in your direction as she screams. 
Some Betas you’ve never seen before hold her back, preventing her from coming closer to you and Namjoon. You back up, jostling into him, and the urge you had earlier grows so strong you don’t hold back. Jumping into his arms, you bury your nose into his neck, and you instantly melt against him, fatigued. Namjoon is startled but holds you tightly, and you can feel when he begins to walk swiftly away from the crowd.
You don’t question it, you just let your Alpha lead you to someplace safe. It takes a few minutes before you arrive at a small cottage, its windows lit with a soft glow. You recognize it for what it is—a mating cabin. Set far enough away from the town square that a newly mated Alpha and Luna can have alone time to get through the next few days. 
Namjoon sets you down, but doesn’t let you go. Opening the door, the first thing you see is a pack of water on the small wooden table. It’s one large room, like a studio with an open concept. There’s a small kitchen set up to the left, and straight ahead is a large bed. The sheets are clean and welcoming, and you can feel your body beginning to cramp as your heat kicks in. 
You knew it was coming—the low-grade fever, mild cramping, and more recently, increased slick and pheromone production ever since Namjoon touched you in the clearing. You shuffle, uncomfortable as slick leaks out of you, trailing down your thigh slowly.
You can hear Namjoon inhale sharply, before he’s kicking the door shut and grabbing you firmly. He doesn’t speak. His eyes say everything though, the adoration and lust sparkling in the low light in the room. 
“Alpha.” It’s a statement. It’s a request. 
His lips are on yours, devouring, tasting, suckling as if he can’t get enough of you.
“Honey. You taste like sweet bourbon infused honey…it’s intoxicating.” Namjoon kisses you again, this time his lips trail from yours to your neck. He teases you, teeth nipping at the skin as your thighs rub together seeking pleasure as he pulls sinful mewls from your throat. Your hands grip his upper arms, and you try to tug him towards the bed. You need him. You need his knot. 
“Please, Alpha,” you beg, and he shivers in your hold, aroused by your submissiveness. “Need you.”
Namjoon lifts you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. You grind against him, biting his bottom lip aggressively. You feel so hot—burning up—and he’s the only thing that can cure you from this growing pain. 
Your heat is in full swing, and you can tell it’s triggering your Alpha’s rut. He’s trying to hold back, be gentle and slow, but when you push your leaking core against him, he gives in. His hands fumble with the waistband of his linen pants before his heavy cock springs free, fully erect and searching for your entrance. You move your waist to help the angle of his cock, as one hand holds your hip and the other holds the base of his shaft to align himself. 
When the slight pressure on your slit gives, you thrust forward, forcing him inside you with ease thanks to your copious amounts of slick. You feel full, the head hitting in just the right spot. Attempting to create friction, you try to undulate your hips, but the resulting shockwaves from the tip meeting that sensitive spot causes you to clench around him. 
He freezes, feeling the quickening of your walls and you yelp in surprise when he throws you on the bed. The loss of him inside you feels unfair, but he steps out of his pants and soon crowds your body with his own as he climbs over your body. A firm hand presses into the middle of your upper back, before he grips your hips and pulls them upwards. The dress slides down, revealing your bare backside to him and you feel more than hear the growl he lets out. 
He leans against your body, ripping your dress up until you are able to slide the garment off your arms and throw it to the floor. A smack jolts you forward, but he adjusts you back into place. You feel his thumb drag over your slick covered folds, taunting you. 
“Alpha!” you whine, and he chuckles before realigning his length to your throbbing core. At this angle, he reaches deeper inside of you, and he begins to rock his hips, thrust after thrust inside you. His large hand grips your chin, turning your head to the side. 
“Want to see that pretty face as you cum on my cock, want to hear you cry for me when you take my knot.” His low baritone promises you pleasure beyond your imagination. 
He licks up your spine, kissing and nuzzling into your neck, and you know it's the spot he wants to mark you at. You beg him to do it, but he just shakes his head against your skin. “Not yet, my love.”
He kisses you with every thrust he takes, before sitting up more to pin you down to the bed. His movements grow sharp, hands grabbing at your ass cheeks as he pounds into you. Switching up his movements, you can’t believe he fucks so well when he begins to rotate his hips and slips his thumb into your mouth. You suck on it, drool leaking from your mouth onto the sheets as your legs shake. 
You clench again, involuntarily spasming every few seconds and you know you’re close—you tell him as much. 
“Fuck,” he curses, and you grip the bedsheets as he adjusts his hold on you. His hands move to your hips and he arches your back even more as he speeds up his own movements. They're fluid, your slick making it almost effortless for him to please you, to take you from behind like this until he’s so deep he could feel himself poking through your stomach—
“Take my knot, want you to have my pups, fuck—”he presses his hips flush to your ass, streams of his cum filling you up endlessly as your body wracks with euphoric release. You whine as you feel the intense pressure of his knot filling you before the pain of his marking bite overtakes your senses. 
You feel overwhelmed in a good way, pain giving way to pleasure as the bite seals your mated status and his knot begins to slowly deflate. Once able, Namjoon rolls you over to face him, nuzzling into you as you hold him close. Your heat was sated for the time being, but you knew that soon you would be climbing him once again to meet your needs. 
You wince as his nose grazes your fresh mark and he makes an apologetic face. Standing up from the bed, he grabs a bottle of water for you, twisting the cap off for you and proffering the drink. 
You take a full swallow, quenching the thirst you didn’t realize you had. Heats have a way of making you forget to take care of yourself in that way. The fatigue consumes you, and you drop back down to the bed. Namjoon takes the bottle from you and places it on the side table. His hands massage your calves, working his way along your thighs. His movements could put you to sleep, but you knew as well as he did that this reprieve would not last long. The moon shone through the window casting a faint glowing halo around Namjoon’s head.
He was yours. 
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In the moon's tender glow, we're born anew,
The night's canvas echoes our ancient call,
Omegas and Betas, to their knees they fall,
For the Alpha, bound by destiny's fate.
To lead, to fight, to protect, to mate,
In lunar hours, gaze upon the sky,
Let Luna's wisdom be your guiding light,
Her soothing touch to mend wounds that cry.
When crescent rises, we shall rise as one,
Aligned with moonrise, our time has begun.
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