baddestbittyontheblock

[baddestbittyontheblock]

march fic recs

✦ dividers by @gigittamic, @cafekitsune, @plutism ✦

ᓭི༏ᓯྀ hi everyone!! i've read so many great fics this month, so i hope you all enjoy my faves of march!! ᓭི༏ᓯྀ

༒ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each incredible writer!! ༒

ᓭི༏ᓯྀ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ᓭི༏ᓯྀ

༒ if you’d like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ༒

call of duty

simon riley

���𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 embrace by @the-froschamethyst4 husband!ghost x wife!reader | fluff, language, kissing, married couple, children, more use of simon than ghost, protective simon, a worried and caring mother

-y/n and simon’s daughter luna is having a hard time being able to see, in school her teacher notices a few signs and has a talk with the parents to discuss about possible glasses for the child

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 love is not enough by @cntloup simon riley x fem!reader | angst, smut, sex against the wall 18+ MDNI

-“simon, dinner is ready.” you call out, voice flat and emotionless, knowing full well that the food is going to get cold and possibly thrown away.

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 simon headcannons by @gaysindistress simone riley x reader

-things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with simon riley.

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 simon fic by @peppermint-toads simone riley x reader | smut

-simon had finally, finally left you the fuck alone.

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 simone mini fic by @oceantornadoo protective ex-husband!simon x reader | implied violence/break-in

-your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you.

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 ex-husband simon by @shotmrmiller simon riley x reader | 18+ (implication of breeding kink or something and simon's a jealous boy)

-simon who signed the divorce papers without a fight. it'd stung, you're not gonna lie, but it needed to be done and the fact that he didn't make a big fuss about it made things easier for you physically. (emotionally you were in shambles because did he not even want to try and fight for you?)

f1

carlos sainz

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 i would love you either way by @sunny44 carlos sainz x girlfriend!reader | pregnancy talk, infertility etc…

-carlos notices that you’ve been acting weird and he decides to ask you why.

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 lolita by @cherry-leclerc carlos sainz x reader | age gap (10 years), porn with plot, affairs, forbidden romance, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature, 18+... sexual tension, penetrative sex, dry humping, riding, size kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), semi - public sex, deepthroating, praise, fingering, handjobs, lots of dirty foreplay, slapping (like once AH), a bit of edging, overstimulation, a bit of crying, sucking on fingers, squirting

-you were young, alluring, floating through a disastrous life with the touch of a thousand angels. carlos was successful, irresistible and someone who often kept a distance from catastrophe. never in a million years did he think he would have a complete moment of weakness…especially the week of his wedding. 

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 overprotective dad by @ccsainzleclerc5516 carlos sainz x reader

-girl dad carlos series continues

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 two different kinds of love by ^ carlos sainz x reader | girl dad! carlos

-bea series (girl dad carlos)

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 carlos sainz being a simp for you by @itaipava carlos sainz x reader

-he always puts his arm over your shoulder without saying anything or takes his hand out of his pockets to hold yours when you approach him.

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 carlos sainz falling in love with you by ^ carlos sainz x reader

-carlos always thought you were beautiful, but he truly fell in love with the beauty inside you

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 soft moments with carlos sainz by ^ carlos sainz x reader

-doing skincare and taking care of yourselves on a free day

oscar piastri

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 let's have a baby, baby by @norrizzandpia osacar piastri x reader | sexual conversations, language, oscar has no filter at all, an extremely graphic and sexual conversation that has zak traumatized (pray for him), tooth rotting fluff

-there is nothing oscar wants more than for y/n to get pregnant with his kid, and everyone knows it.

harry styles

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 breastfeeding in public by @hazslover harry styles x reader | breasting mention, fluff

-‘honey.. she needs feeding’ you scratch the back of his neck to grab his attention. he turns to look at you.

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 inside y/n l/n’s bag | vogue by @lovecanyon dad!harry styles x reader | fluff, mom!reader

-“hi vogue i am y/n l/n and this is what’s in my bag.”

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 squishy little marshmallow by @finelinevogue harry styles x reader

-pure lover vibes

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 the one where harry goes on a hike with his kids by @alittletaste dad! harry styles x reader

-harry looked like a proper dad. his cheeks had a few days old stubble on them, his eyes were clouded with sleep but you could see the absolute adoration in them and he was also supporting some eye bags from the lack of sleep.

dune

paul atreides

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 the death of a star by @nonpoppin paul atreides x reader | cheating! not the sexual kind but the emotional kind! toxic marriage, sorta dark paul, almost sexual cheating, talks of bastards, child birth, violence, arranged marriage, pussy eating, fingering, pinv sex, creaming, use of the voice. talks of baby making and brief pregnancy mention.

-paul thought he could never love you but when a star starts to die, it sucks everything in and in your death, your rebirth, he learns he can.

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 little cakes by ^ paul atreides x reader | this is a SMUT! 18+ only, please!! Nothing too bad outside of that though. Oral (f.receiving), mentions(?) of voyeurism, heavy petting and Paul being a simp

-you panic as your wedding date draws near and a trip to a famous sex planet doesn't help with these growing emotions. thankfully, Paul is there to distract you.

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 big mistakes by ^ paul atreides x reader | THIS IS SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!! male masterbation, oral (f.receiving), thigh job, outer course (?), overstimulation, squirting, Paul is his own warning;little menace, 7k

-society is so mean to girls who want the same things as boys. a whole lot of catching up on missed time and paul putting his foot in his mouth.

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 do you believe in us? by @murdrdocs paul atreides x reader | STEPCEST, SMUT MDNI 18+, fem!reader, oral (f receiving), childhood best friends to stepsiblings, instigator paul, appearances by lady jessica, duke leto, and duncan idaho, sparring, sneaking around, 5.3k+

-from a young age, you and PAUL ATREIDES believe you belonged to the other, and foolishly thought you could one day marry. not even an unlikely marriage between your parents will diminish those beliefs.

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 when paul has a bad vision by @dropitpunk paul atreides x reader | hurt/comfort kinda, kissing, sweet and short

-distraught mumbling in your right ear woke you from your slumber. paul was shaking beside you again, whispering senseless words into the air.

marvel

natasha romanoff

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 her idiot by @marvelfilth natasha romanoff x f!reader

-your night out with thor and valkyrie leaves natasha worried unimpressed.

wanda maximoff

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 another new addition by @five-bi-five-mind wanda maximoff x fem!reader | fluff, smut, 5.6k+, lots of pregnancy talk; pregnancy sex I guess? bathtub sex, clit play, nipple play, top!Wanda but she's topping from the bottom lol, bottom!r, strap-on (r receiving); enchanted strap, cum-filled strap, strap riding, thigh riding, aftercare

-it finally happened, you were pregnant and growing your family that you now shared with wanda. however, pregnancy was a little rough on you. wanting to take care of you, and also absolutely adoring the way you were glowing from being pregnant with her child, wanda had a plan. she was going to pamper you all night long.

miguel o'hara

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 aftercare by @luveline miguel o'hara x fem!reader | suggestive content mdni, 1k

-“you’re doing that thing,”

woso

alexia putellas

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 the view between villages by @samkerrworshipper alexia putellas x reader | horrificically brain numbing angst

-all alexia can focus on his the sound of the indicator of the van that she’s in.

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 embarassing by @wosoreading alexia putellas x reader

-you and alexia take advantage of the opportunity to be typical embarrassing moms.

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 sisters and crushes by @sunnyaelia alexia putellas x reader | no angst in here just pure fluff and Alexia being a bit jealous

-alexia has been crushing on you from the first moment on - she refuses to ask you out though, not wanting to mess with the team dynamic. to get things going her sister alba decides to flirt with you, eliciting the exact response from alexia that she had expected

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 love or game by ^ alexia putellas x reader | small mention of blood and wounds, nothing horrible though 

-you get hurt right before an important game of alexia’s and decide not to tell her - she’s really unhappy with you when she finds out 

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 hickey's and concealer by ^ alexia putellas x reader | quite suggestive at one point and alexia lowkey being toxic

-“if you keep covering those marks up i’m gonna have to add something more obvious” 

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 hip thrusts by ^ alexia putellas x reader | fluff, very suggestive

-alexia doing hip thrusts with you as the weight to show you that you’re definitely not too heavy to sit on her lap because you’re a bit insecure about it and then it gets dirty

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 i love you by @ale-wosofan alexia putellas x reader

-reader realizes she’s in love with her girlfriend

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 miscommunications + conversations by @girlgenius1111 alexia putellas x reader | angst, fluff

-alexia has practically stopped speaking in the wake of her second surgery. it's stressing you out, but you don't quite know how to tell her. she gets it out of you anyway.

ingrid egen, mapi leon

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 targeted by @mapiforpresident ingrid egen x mapi leon x reader | mentions of ankle injury

-tackle after tackle was aimed at you throughout the game. the other team clearly targeting you.

leah williamson x reader

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 just as bad as each other by @inuyashaluver leah williamson x reader | swearing, mentions of arguing and injury

-in which you and your best friend are just as bad as each other, from your stubbornness, all the way to your infatuation for one another

alessia russo

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 you're beautiful by @inuyashaluver alessia russo x reader | elf loathing, insecurity, tears, slightly angsty?

-in which your girlfriend wishes you could see yourself the way she does

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 savior by ^ alessia russo x reader | swearing

-in which your girlfriend forgets everything, good thing you’re at home due to injury and being able to read her mind

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 newlyweds by @p0orbaby alessia russo x reader | SMUT 18+, public setting, fingering (r receiving), dom!alessia?

-better add getting married to the list of aphrodisiacs

bridgeton

anthony bridgerton

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 my miracle by @ladysharmaa anthony bridgerton x reader | mentions of death

-anthony’s wife is in labor and it’s not looking good

marauders era

sirius black

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 september fifth, nineteen seventy-eight. by @quackitingg. sirius black x gryffindor!reader | angst, hurt/no comfort, happy end???

-on the fifth of september, nineteen hundred and eight, sirius black receives news that his girlfriend had been one of the victims of the death eaters. however, a few years later, while he was fighting for his godson's safety, when he crossed the veil, he finally managed to find her again and, finally, live by her side.

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 blurb by @moonstruckme sirius black x fem!reader | fluff

-straddled in a playfully agressive manner by sirius black

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 meanbf!sirius by @sleyu sirius black x reader | smut

-meanbf!sirius <3 visits you at work only to fuck you in the staff bathroom <3 speaks to you in french while you fuck because he knows you won’t understand what he’s saying and it makes you teary eyed.

james potter

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 daylight by @pretty-little-mind33 james potter x fem!reader | SMUT, oral sex (m & f receiving/giving), teasing, cursing, mature themes, fingering, talk of sex and orgasms

-when your boyfriend finds out he didn't make you come, his anger quickly turns into lust.

wolfstar

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 cute fic pt:1 by @ellecdc  poly!wolfstar x potter!sister!reader | touch starved reader who also happens to be James' sister, it's a secret relationship

-you didn’t even have a right to feel this way right now; this had been your idea.

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 cute fic pt:2 by ^ poly!wolfstar x potter!sister!reader

-you & the boys tell james

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 mistake pt:2 by ^ poly!wolfstar x fem!reader | angst, hurt and COMFORT

-remus felt like he’d just been slapped. in fact, he was sure that if he looked in a mirror, he would see a red welt in the shape of your hand across his cheek. read part one here

tom riddle

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 voicemail by @anawritez-posts tom riddle x reader | 18+ only. minors dni, contains dark themes and sexual language so minors pls dni

-y/n tries to escape her controlling obsessed husband, he leaves a disturbing voicemail while she tries to find a way to leave him.

bts

jk

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 12:00 am by @joonberriess jungkook x reader | smut blurb

-best friend!jk hour

peaky blinders

tommy shelby

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 is that how you remember it by @runnning-outof-time tommy shelby x reader | tooth-rotting fluff and one (1) bad word, 2.6k+

-(y/n) finds some discrepancies in the story of how they first met that tommy tells their children…so she decides to give her own rendition of the story.

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 to keep you safe by ^ tommy shelby x reader | season 4 spoilers (like right from the jump), language, 1.0k+

-(y/n) and tommy discuss the decision to have her go into hiding while the war with the changrettas rages on.

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 little you-s and I-s by @multific tommy shelby x reader | pregnancy mention

-you and tommy deal with the changes that come with your pregnancy.

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 tommy shelby fic by @little-diable tommy shelby x fem!reader | just nudity, full on fluff and fun

-tommy will always do what his wife asks of him, especially when he needs a few calm moments himself.

#fic recs #my faves #tlou #woso #peaky blinders #bts #the marauders #bridgerton #marvel #dune #harry styles #f1 #call of duty #march faves

[baddestbittyontheblock]

Little Cakes

Paul Atreides x reader

Summary: You panic as your wedding date draws near and a trip to a famous sex planet doesn't help with these growing emotions. Thankfully, Paul is there to distract you.

Warnings: This is a SMUT! 18+ only, please!! Nothing too bad outside of that though. Oral (f.receiving), mentions(?) of voyeurism, heavy petting and Paul being a simp ™

Notes: this took me three days to write. Um, coughs, this is 3k words and um, uh- yeah.

Part two

“Haven’t you ever wondered if there’s more to life than this?”

Paul looks up from the spread of dessert and frowns, “More than tiny little cakes and–” His eyes dart off into the distance and he snorts.“—Your mother glaring at me? No.” Paul picks up a small tan cake that's decorated in golden dust and hard candy pieces and offers it to you, it's pretty but it reminds you of sand and what you're told about the dunes of Arrakis and not your dream wedding cake. “Cake?”

You accept it and bite into the dessert with a sigh. “I’m serious, Atreides.”

“I like when you call me, Paul.” He offers you another cake, this time a pretty green one that sparkles purple under the chandelier light.

“I’m serious, Paul.” You repeat. You take the green cake and bite into it and he takes the tan, finishing it off. The green cake tastes like sweet wax and months-old honey, but you don't let it show on your face as you hand it off to Paul, him offering you a red one in its stead. “If we weren't the sons and daughters of Lords and Snotty old duchesses who–”

Paul gags as he eats the green one, “You’re horrible.” He turns from you, grabbing a napkin further down the table to spit the cake out. You only grin, taking a bite of the red cake, a splash of apple and spice dances across your tongue.

“—Control our every move, where would we be?” You continue as you offer the red cake to Paul and he takes it with a hesitant look – but he shrugs at your question.

“Not engaged, probably—” He pops the rest of the red cake into his mouth, humming at the flavor. “–Tell me, does this pondering have anything to do with why you were missing from rehearsals and dance practices for the last month?” He tries to hand you a purple, bulbous cake that oozes something blue but your gaze is elsewhere. He hesitates for a moment, then calls your name, “What is it?”

“I visited Gamont.”

The purple cake falls to the table with a wet ‘flop,’ and Paul is hurriedly wiping his fingers off in another napkin. “You’re joking.”

Reeking of sweat, musk and, sex and filled to the brim with bodies from near and far— Gamont was not a planet any good blooded noble would visit. Though most nobles weren't good, they snuck on in ships disguised as cargo loads to visit the best houses or join the various parties that littered the streets. Your family rules over Gamont and three other planets with two other houses but out of the three planets— Gamont was the only one you were barred from visiting.

At your silence, Paul blanches. “You’re not joking, are you?” You shake your head and he lets out a tiny disbelieving laugh. “Come to my room in ten minutes.”

“What?”

He looks around the room brimming with nobles and wedding planners then grins, a boyish one that makes his eyes twinkle. “I want you to tell me of your time in Gamont and–” He licks his lips and it takes everything in you not to watch the action with wide eyes. “No noble would be caught talking about it in the open, right?”

“Of...of course.” You blink owlishly, Paul only grins wider. He begins to walk past you, a gentle hand falling on your shoulder as he does so.

“I’ll leave first, see you.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you to eye the remnants of him. The little purple cake gives a pathetic ooze and you cringe. What flavor even is that?

***

“Does Gamont really hold week-long parties?”

Anyway from the smell of cakes, perfume, and alcohol– the air feels lighter, sweeter, or maybe, you just felt lighter. In the time you've known Paul as a friend and not a fiance, his room had become a haven, a moment of peace away from the pressure of your family. His room smells like the night that leaks from his open window and the wind blows in the salted scent of the distant Caladan sea and the dew of nearby trees, it wraps around you in a cool blanket as Paul approaches you with a smile.

You meet it in kind, grinning in thanks as Paul passes you a chalice of water– your fingers touch, and he lingers, smiling when he caught your eye before he clears his throat and settles beside you on his bed, “I don't know if they're week long but, when I went everywhere I looked there were parties. I went to one and saw... things.”

Paul ran his finger over the brim of his cup idly. He frowns at your hesitance and shifts closer to you— knees bumping against each other. Your gaze lingers on your touching knees before snapping away when he drops his hand to your thigh and speaks.

“Bad things?”

“No, I don't think….” Your mind shows you flashes of that night, the green eyes of the woman who all but basked in your wide curious eyes as her lover took her against a building. “They were just things, Atreides.”

“Paul.” He corrects and you roll your eyes, a rebuttal on the tip of your tongue but he squeezes your thigh with a wry grin. “You know you can call me Paul— you used to do so without an issue.”

That was true– but your visit was eye-opening in more ways than one. You knew what sex is– whispers of workers and elder cousins taught you little but it taught you enough to know that it happened more with unwed couples than wedded ones— an act of true passion was shared between the press of two naked bodies breaking the societal code and the very definition of pure and true.

Your mother planned to marry you off. You knew since you were fourteen– she'd place you with the highest bidder, a person that would fatten her pockets rather than take care of her daughter but you've been lucky. Lucky that the house of Atreides snagged you before anyone else could and you would marry Paul and Paul– he's great, he's everything a girl like you could wish for but why were you hesitating?

The woman's green eyes flash in your mind again, the rapid rise and fall of her chest– the way her thighs shook around her lover's head and you question it. Would Paul break those rules for you? Would he take you in a way that truly mattered before he took you in the way that society deemed right?

“One day, we'll be married.” You choose to change the subject instead. You push to your feet– away from Paul and his hand falls limp on the bed. He frowns deeply as you speak but you ignore it, placing the chalice on his dresser. “Do you think about it? Us, married?”

“Always.” He admits easily, he follows after you– echoing your steps as you pace around his room. He's grinning again like he knows something you don't, “Don’t you?”

“Every waking moment.” You breathe. You spin to face him, the silk white grab flutters like the butterflies that swarm your stomach as he steadies you by your hips and pulls you close. The two of you wobble backward until your back is pressed against the nearest wall. Paul pushes his hips against yours with that same stupid grin, it only grows when you shudder out a gasp almost arching off against the cool wall and press into him.

“What things did you see on Gamont?” He asks in a whisper, his nose brushes yours and you swallow.

“Simp– simple things– oh…” You break off with a small gasp as his lips ghost your jaw, pressing short, warm kisses leading to your neck. “Paul….”

“Describe them to me.” He pleads and after a moment's pause where he's kissing his way down your neck, he adds a near-silent. “Please?”

His words spark a flame in you and it licks at you, hungry for something, anything as your stomach rolls when he presses a more desperate kiss to your neck, sucking the skin above your thundering pulse and he worries it gently between his teeth— humming when you reach out and grip his forearms. You were many things— but a fool was not one of them, he was baiting you. Paul is surrounded by men, by soldiers his age and older who've traveled to Gamont and came back and told tales– stories of their lays and what could be seen on the street.

But he wants to hear you say it— the so-called filthy things, he wants to hear the way it falls off your pure tongue, he craves the way your face scrunches and your body begins to heat up. He wants you embarrassed because he for some stupid reason he doesn't know why yet— it got him off.

If only Paul knew, he wasn't the one truly in charge at this moment.

The heat in you festers, burning through the thin layers of your dress and zips through your legs that shake under the force of him. He trails up from your neck slowly this time, before capturing your lips in a wet kiss. It's slow, the slide of your lips are nowhere near frantic and he licks at you— across your lips before nipping at them playfully. You part your lips with a small grin, letting him take what control you can give and he goes wild. His tongue slides over yours, then across the room of your mouth, though he quickly pulls back when you let out a breathless giggle at the feeling, his hands slowly dragging your dress up, “Tell me what you saw.”

“My mother—” Another giggle leaves you when he groans, Paul ducks his head to your neck again, kissing and nosing his way around. “–She told me on my wedding night– stars—” He bits down on your neck and rolls his hips sharply into yours. “–That I must lay back and take whatever my husband gave me.”

Paul gives a displeased hum, his hands dropping from your dress that pool around your thighs in favor of finding the zipper on the back of your dress. “Is that so?”

“Yesss...yes–” Your dress falls from your shoulder and Paul falls after it, kissing any piece of skin he could get his mouth on. He skillfully avoids your breast though, choosing to nip at your collarbones. “That I was supposed to go limp and pray he lays an heir in me the first time– Paul!” Your voice goes rigid, a squeak toeing on the line of a squeal as he captures one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks. He pulls away quickly, too quick for your liking but he's kissing you again, desperately this time as he rucks up your dress.

“Tell me what you saw on Gamont.”

“Would you do that to me, Paul?” gasp as he hooks his thumbs on the elastic of your underwear and pulls them down in one swift motion– and suddenly, you wish you wore something pretty, something eye-catching and something that would haunt his mind in his moments alone but the thought leaves you the moment he flings your underwear away and you giggle, your legs trembling. “Would I be nothing but an empty womb to you?”

He pulls back from you, eyes wide. “No.” He answers and you can hear it in his voice that he means it, pure, unfiltered adoration. “No, no, you know you aren't.” He leans forward then, pressing a soft kiss against your lips and you answer in kind– humming against his lips.

“I saw a couple on Gamont,” You start, sighing as he trails down from your lips again this time, he takes his time, he's not rushing– choosing to bask in your soft voice and sighs as he squeezes and prods at your bare thighs. “They were outside an inn and she made eye contact with me as her lover got on his knees, between her legs and stars— she looked like she enjoyed it. She enjoyed me staring at her, she enjoyed the way he licked and sucked on her– do you think– gods– do you think it'd feel that good for me?”

“I can show you.” He groans and it echoes around the room, around your head– he means it and he's already falling to his knees, whispering, prodding, and pulling at your dress. 'Let me show you- let me taste you– I can make you feel good– please my star, please.'

“Okay.” You give a frantic nod while licking your lips.“Okay- yeah– you can-” He doesn't even let you finish before he's on you, there's no need for buildup or teasing— the whole moment has been nothing but teasing— his lips find your clit with scary accuracy and he sucks. Groaning into you when you lurch against his mouth and his hands hold you– pins you in place; against the wall, against him and his mouth, he sucks and he sucks, and when you think maybe, he'd suck again he pulls away and flattens his tongue and licks at you with a passion.

Distantly, under the growing pink cloud of pleasure and lust, you wonder how he knows exactly what to do– he licks at you again, from slit to clit, groaning like the very taste of you gives him pleasure and maybe it does— you wouldn't know, and then, he moans and the vibrations of it all zap up the length of your body and you forget– it doesn't matter, not right now, not ever if he keeps doing what he's doing.

“Paul– fuck, Paul, please.” You don't know what you're begging for, not really, your mind left the station and your body is on autopilot– you grind against his face, against his tongue that slips through your folds and dips inside of you and his nose catches against your clit and oh– “Fuck, fuck, fuuuck–!” Your finger card through his curls and Paul lets you drag him closer– his hands falling from your thighs and to the wall behind you to keep himself steady as you buck against him and it's too much.

Your cousin told you stories about the metaphorical cord that gets wound too tight and it snaps and it makes you go boneless, like the very tether keeping to your planet disappears and you're floating, numb– mindless but you feel good, so good. You had given her a weird look then, a bitter murmur of 'yeah right.’

But, now maybe you understand— but it wasn't a cord and it wasn't floating. There's a dam that overflows, it was a little at first then it's leaking from cracks and then it breaks and you're drowning. Paul's name becomes a chant, a prayer for survival on your tongue and your eyes roll and your thighs clench and clamp– they threaten to give out from under you, to turn to sea foam under the work of his tongue but he doesn't stop, he sucks and he licks and—

“Again.”

Your body seizes at the voice, it's not his, it's not anyone's and yet it commands and it sends you burning and blistering– you hear a sharp gasp that's nearly a scream and your body gives and gives— the dam is already broken but there's a storm powering its waves. You clench, rocking into the only thing that you know, the only thing anchoring and you feel him grin.

“Again.”

You think–barely,– that this may be the way that you die. The constant flow and pull of pleasure, it's stealing your life force— it hooks you by the ankles and drags you deep beneath its depths. Your body gives— and this time it's gushing, you're drowning and it makes you want to scream– to gasp out for air and maybe you do– you don't know, you don't know anything but the waves and his hands soothing and kneading at your thighs, and under the crash of those foamy waves, you hear him.

“It’s over, you did so well–” It melts out of his mouth at a steady pace, melting into nonsensical praise. He calls you pretty, gorgeous, he calls you his in a mesh of words as he kisses his way up your body. When he reaches your face, the grin he held all night is gone– replaced with a fondness that rubs you raw and leaves you bleeding and he kisses you, slow and soft, you taste the salt of you on his lips.

“You're beautiful.”

You laugh against his lips, “I can't feel my legs.” He only gives you a hum and another kiss, pulling you flush against his body and you feel him, through his pants his erection prods at you, and you huff nervously. “Paul—”

His bedroom door slides open. There's a shriek– a familiar one, and a soft ‘oh!’ and Paul is shifting you– trying to cover the sight of you with his own body as his face flames. “Mom– Lady-”

But your mother is hearing none of it. While Lady Jessica politely directs her gaze upwards, a smile pulling at her lips— your mother, however, stomps into his room and yanks you from him. You struggle to fix your dress as Paul reaches for you with a frown.

“Wait–”

“Mom, ow-”

“You never learn!” She continues to shriek, her nails dig past the thin layer of your dress and break your skin. You whimper but she continues and you're nearly halfway out of the room, “You insolent girl— you are lucky! Lucky that, that boy wants to marry you– in all my years–!” Your mom looks like she's stuck between crying and more shouting, and thankfully, she settles with neither. She drags you away from the room and away from Paul. Muttering and cursing to whatever God who dared to listen and you throw one a glance over your shoulder and Paul stares back, his eyes wide– he looks mortified and whatever Lady Jessica says, seems to make it worse.

You were screwed.

Read Part Part two ←Here

#paul atreides x reader #dune #paul atreides #dune imagine #paul atreides smut #fic recs

[baddestbittyontheblock]

Big Mistakes

Paul Atreides x reader

Summary: Society is so mean to girls who want the same things as boys. A whole lot of catching up on missed time and Paul putting his foot in his mouth.

Warnings: THIS IS SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!! male masterbation, oral (f.receiving), thigh job, outer course (?), overstimulation, squirting, Paul is his own warning;little menace.

Notes: Part two to Little Cakes!!! Again, I'm surprised y'all want a part two but I also think y'all just want more smut and there's no shame in that I suppose, idk if this is what y'all are expecting though. Good luck, oh and this is: 7k words!! Christ!!

Part three!!

There's a dull throb that spreads throughout your body with every step you take– it starts from your back and it aches, the ache turns into tingles of pain that spreads and dances through your nervous system from fingers to toes and leaves your whole body in a throbbing mess. It leaves you tired, devastatingly so but you weren't allowed to rest– as far as it was concerned, your mother counted your time away as rest.

Your chaperone knows this and yet, she still pokes and prods at your face– trying to pull at the corners of your lips up and whispering jokes that just don't land – trying to make you smile. Look happy, she whispers as you both walk through the castle halls of Caladan. The two of you are guided by guards who only bowed their heads once they recognized you. You should be happy your mother is allowing you back here at all, Young Mistress, at least conjure a smile.

You had tried– but whenever you did, all seventeen slashes along your back started to tingle, burn– like the very notion of happiness slowly pulled the wounds back open and rubbed salt into them. Two weeks away from this planet, away from the Atreides family– from Paul – happiness seemed to become only a child's dream: foolish and impossible.

Your chaperone’s fingers poke into your side, right above your slashes and you flinch away– a whimper catching in your throat at the pain that it sparks. Her hand drops as soon as she does it, her face pulling into a frown – you would think she feels bad for you, and maybe, somewhere deep down she does but her frown is directed nervously at the guards who snap their heads to you at the sound – they both takes steps closer, gazing between you and your chaperone with questioning eyes.

They get brownie parts for being ever diligent, for being loyal to the Atreides family and you— a future Lady Atreides, by default. It turns your stomach, the thought is no longer as comforting as it used to be. “I’m fine.” You finally whisper, you force your lips upwards into a delicate smile you spent years practicing. “She just surprised me is all, but thank you.” You pull farther away from your chaperone and closer to the guards as you lay a hand on their armored arms. “The both of you.”

They only take a step back, their heads bowing in the briefest of nods– so quick, you think you might have imagined it. Turning back to your chaperone, your lips twitch downwards for just a second, your body aching– but it passes as you clear your throat. “Now… let's not keep them waiting, shall we?”

***

Paul is trying very hard to get you to acknowledge him.

His fingers tap across the dark oak table of the Atreides meeting room. Something that could be passed off as a nervous tic– a young man too excited to see his fiance again after weeks apart. But it's more than that– there's a pause between taps, sometimes his fingers hover about the table and other times when it holds down longer. Are you okay? It spells, and when you don't answer or even blink in his direction, it continues; My star, my love, my light, are you okay? Are you well?

Paul Atreides has no shame, you realize. No hesitation, nor fear– his parents can understand the taps, you know they can because Duke Leto pauses whatever conversation he was having with your chaperone to look– at Paul, at you, then he frowns in concern. It happens quickly like all things in this castle but you catch it because you're watching him instead of his son.

Lady Jessica at one point reaches out to her son and stops his hands– her dainty hands press into his and flatten them into the table. The command is there– hidden in the look she barely spares him. Enough.

He doesn't listen, when his hands are tied– ever resourceful, he turns to his legs. His shoes tap, tap, tap– the tune of taps were different– not frantic but pleading. As pleading as the repetitive tap, tap, taps could sound. Won't you look at me? Please, look at me. Look at me, look at me, look at me—

You shift in your chair, your hand falling on the table in the passing movement as you let your gaze fall on your chaperone. Quit it. Your hand raises as quick as it falls, going back to rest on your side as your back throbs. Lady Jessica's eyes dart to you in mild surprise and her lips lift into an amused grin— the two of you make eye contact and she holds your gaze, tilting her head as she studies you. It sends your skin flaming, it's more out of embarrassment than anything else– the last time you saw each other you were half-naked with her son pressed against your body, a moment she seemed to forget while it plagued your mind daily.

Forget the punishment your mother dished out, remembering that Jessica Atreides saw you in such a manner was punishing enough– you wanted to throw yourself into an active volcano.

My beautiful star.

Your eye twitches as your attention is brought back to Paul – you drop your gaze to your hands, clenching and unclenching your hands as he continues to tap. My beautiful, beautiful love, I've missed you. Your chaperone says your name in a sentence and you incline your head towards her as if you were listening– was she explaining your situation? A chaperone to watch over you like a child, a chaperone because your mother didn't trust you not to stay out of Paul's hands, his mouth, his bed.

Maybe she was right to worry. Not right to hurt you, break skin or to scar her way into your very being, but right to be afraid for you. Just last week, a young girl– younger than you– had fell from grace because her lover came forward about their affairs– she was left burning, cradling the ashes of what she could have been close to her chest –her family name in tatters while her ex-lover was rushed away to be married to someone else of power, grace, and innocence.

I've missed your touch. Your legs jerk out in surprise, what is he playing at? I've missed the taste of you on— A choked cough forces itself out of you and your eyes finally flickering up to Paul who grins at the attention. He sits taller, trying and failing to smother the all-out smile that pecks at his lips–

“Are you alright, Mistress?”

Your chaperone pauses in her conversation to Duke Leto, gazing at you with narrowed eyes filled with concern and slight annoyance. You realize, all at once, that every eye is suddenly on you. Lady Jessica looks on in amusement– her lips fighting back a grin too similar to her sons’ while Duke Leto coughs to hide his laugh. In a room filled with people who could understand the meanings of the taps— your chaperone is the only one who is clueless. How mortifying.

“Yessss.” You drag out, tearing your eyes away from Paul who blinks innocently. You place a gentle hand on your throat, fainting weariness with a pout. “My throat is just a tad dry.”

Duke Leto nods, grinning, “We shouldn't keep you two any longer,” He looks to you kindly, eyes twinkling. “Your room is the same place as always, your chaperone— Jyn, correct? Your room is right next door. You must forgive the dust in the air— we don't usually use that room.”

Jyn smiles– unable to hide the giddiness that a Duke– thee Duke Leto Atreides remembers her name. “It’s fine and thank you again— for understanding and being so accommodating.”

Duke Leto rises first, followed by Lady Jessica and Paul, then you rise and Jyn is the last to stand to her feet. Rankings, you muse to yourself, even in passing it still seems to matter. Jyn huddles to your side, fingers ghosting your arm as she leans in to whisper to you, “All that tapping that boy does.” She clicks her tongue in disapproval– tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear as she does so, “Better you than me, Mistress. It'd drive me insane.”

You chuckle soft, allowing yourself to lean into her– she supports your weight easily, her hand moving from your arm to back. It hesitates and then hovers– she doesn't touch you this time and for that you're grateful. “You couldn't bear it even if it meant advancing ranks?”

But to your surprise, she only shrugs. “I don't care for ranks when it comes to marriage. ”

You blink, you blink hard at her. That was surprising– considering she was a chaperone hired to stop ranks from falling too early.

“Oh, wait.” Duke Leto calls out before the two of you could get too far out of the room, “Jyn, I would like to have a word with you. Privately.”

Jyn blinks slowly, unraveling herself from you with a nod as Lady Jessica sinks back in her seat. Jyn turns to you, eyeing Paul as he continues out the room without a glance in your direction. “It’ll be quick, I'm sure.” She caresses your cheek almost motheringly before patting it. “Do not wander. I'll be back.”

And with that, she disappears back into the meeting room, leaving the doors to click shut.

***

To be fair, you did as you were told. You didn't wander away from the door– you hadn't planned to begin with, all you did was turn and he was there and his lips were on yours.

Paul kisses you like it's the last thing he'll do– his hands cup your face and drag you closer, kissing you between rushed breaths and whispers of; I missed you, I missed you, I missed you. He licks his way into your mouth and you become undone– melting into his touch and meeting his kiss in kind.

“Did you think of me?” He asks between kisses, peppering your face with sprinkles of his love and the very act fills you with a gentle warmth that has you smiling at him.

“Everyday.” You admit and you swear, he swoons before your very eyes. He crowds you then– forcing you back as his kisses grow more frantic, his hands drop from your face in favor of dancing up your sides, he kisses you a bit harder– more teeth and tongue– and you break away just a bit to smile against his lips, peering up at him through your eyelashes, you whisper: “I’ve missed you terribly, Paul.”

Paul Atreides growls, deep and throaty against your lips– it sounds strangely like a curse or a prayer and you only make out; stars above. Before he kisses you again and you giggle or, you try to before the force of his kiss has your back hitting the wall. It's as if lightning strikes you then and there, the white-hot pain bubbles, it boils under your skin– it zips, zaps and like there's livewire touching your skin you seize with a sharp cry that's only muffled by his lips before your hands snap up and shove him away from you.

The slashes on your back mock you, snapping their fleshy rips of teeth at you– fool, they hiss, throbbing and withering like they're alive. Fool, you're doing the very thing that gifted you us. You don't look at Paul as you blink through the pain— you can't, you don't want to see his reaction to you like this. You don't want to be reminded of the reason you have them but he reaches for you, you can see the movement from the corner of your eyes but before he could touch you, the doors to the meeting room swing open.

Jyn doesn't look at him either, she quite literally pushes past him to whisk you away with hushed whispers and hesitant hands. Neither of them looks at him as they leave.

Paul wishes you would though.

***

For a week, you have a whisper of peace. Away from your family home and your mother, your wounds heal slowly— they still ache when you move too fast or shift suddenly but they don't tear open at the slightest things.

For a week, you are rushed around the halls of Caladan— you're receiving lessons from one of Duke Leto's advisors in the morning; he teaches you how to run the castle, how to check inventory and how to greet people who are less than favorable with a smile on your face. By the afternoon, you're dragged away by Lady Jessica's ladies in waiting, you're supposed to be planning for the wedding, for different events to come– but talks of cloth shades are far from any of your minds as you all huddle together and gossip between whispers and giggles.

“You must tell me,” Begins one of the ladies one day, you don't remember her name but you know it's something soft, something flowery. “You and Master Atreides… you too were inseparable and, well..”

When her voice falters, another lady jumps in. Her name is a little rougher than the former, she's from a different planet and despite her heavy accent, her words are clear. “She is asking if you and the young Master ever slept together.”

You freeze at the question and Jyn, thank the stars for her– jumps to your rescue from her spot near the door, not even looking up from her book. “If we are worried about who slept with who, I did spy Marigold leaving the room of one of Duke Leto's best men. Duncan, I believe?”

The reaction is immediate, the women in the room turn to the flowery woman in surprise, their voices tumbling over each other in question. You throw Jyn a grateful look and she only turns another page in her book with a small grin.

And when night falls, you and Jyn are hauled off for dinner. You sit across from Paul, not meeting his questioning eyes or answering his persistent taps— and for a week, you are given peace.

A peace that is quickly pulled away as you walk out your bathroom, drying your hands on hands on your nightgown and and see Paul sitting on your bed, toying with the stitching of your duvet.

“What are you doing?”

Paul looks up frowning. “Sitting?”

A small laugh leaves you as you shake your head. “No I meant– what are you doing here? In my room, on my bed?” You linger close to your wall and cross your arms over your midsection. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, everything is.. is okay.” He stands from your bed and goes to your dresser, messing with the perfumes and other trinkets that lay there. “Have you always had this?” He holds up a glittery black handkerchief– it's embroidered with your initials and little stars that twinkle when moved– stars for my star– He said the day he gave it to you, how could he ever forget?

“Paul, you gave those to me.” You lean against the wall, frowning as you hug yourself tighter– eyeing him curiously as you speak. “It was a courting gift, remember?”

He nods almost numbly, swallowing harshly as he blinks. “Oh, yes. I remember.” He places them down where he found them and moves to your vanity and your eyes follow as he picks up a pair of earrings, pretty star shaped things that dangle lowly– also, from him. “And these? Where did you get these from?”

“Paul…”

“Or your nightgown?” He continues, gesturing vaguely towards you, or rather, your nightgown— an off grey dress covered in little stars, again another gift from him. “Where is it from?”

“You, Paul. They're all from you.” You whisper.

“I would give you every star in this galaxy, you know? Every single last one of them– and– and you won't even look at me.” He lets out a shaky sigh, taking a step towards you as he runs his hand down his face. “And I'm not trying to make you feel bad for all the things I gave you— I'll give you a dozen more if it meant you'd look at them and think of me. I don't want your thanks, or– or your praise, I just want my fiance to speak to me.”

Words seem to fail you. Hell, proper thought seemed to do the same— it all escapes you at the look Paul gives you. He looks tired, so, so tired– he's laid his heart bare on a silver platter and hands it to you with trembling hands and all you could do was stare dumbly at him. “Okay.” You finally answer, “Okay we can talk but we must do so quickly because Jyn checks on me—”

“She's distracted.” Paul interrupts absently, his eyes trail past you in thought like he's reliving whatever scheme he came up with. “I made sure she was busy before I came here, I made sure of that last night after dinner.”

“Do I want to know…?” You venture and he only shakes his head, showing you a sliver of a smile.

“No.” He pulls away from you and makes his way back to your bed, sinking down almost hesitantly. “You don't want to know–” he pats at the spot next to him and peers up at you,“Sit with me?”

You do so, knees bumping as you turn to him. “I’m sorry for worrying you. I am– I suppose I got into my own head and I began to worry… What if my mother called off our wedding, what if your mother called it off?”

Paul bristles, “My mom–”

“Would never, I know, Paul. It's just… what if.” You sigh, “And it's not just that— just last week, a girl was left in ruins because her lover exposed what they've done and that what if starts to nag me–” You take a shuddering breath,you begin playing with your hands, twisting them and bending them as you look anywhere but him. “And what if you're only using me for my body– what if after, after we had sex you'd leave me?”

“I wouldn't do that–”

You laugh shakely, rubbing under your eyes. “I know that, Paul, I kn-”

“No, no. You have to hear me say it—” One of his hands grabs yours and the other takes hold of your face. Green eyes go misty, almost teary eyed as he stared into your eyes,“—I'd never say that–void take me, My star, you are so much more than sex, so much more than your body— I love you for so much more, for your mind– you say the smartest things, sometimes it leaves me stumbling. So smart that I know that my family legacy is in good hands.”

He leans forward then, resting his forehead against yours, the hands on your face tightens just a bit, his thumb swiping at your cheeks as he continues, “And your humor, you make me laugh at the most inappropriate times— you make me feel my age. We're only nineteen, My star, nineteen and our world is changing– but you're here, you're grounding and void swallow me whole for making you feel anything less than loved. Anything less than the star, you are.”

You raise a hand, ghosting his face as you sniffle. “Void take you if you hurt me, Atreides.”

He grins softly, nose brushing yours as he leans for a kiss. “Void take me.” he whispers.

And in the shadows, the void rumbles.

***

The barrier that was between you and Paul was quickly torn down after that. So quickly, Jyn was actually forced into doing her job; chaperoning you both at a moment's notice— something that she complained about the second the two of you got a moment alone.

“He kisses you too much.” She gripes to you over lunch, “And has the nerve to ask me beforehand, or apologize for it. ‘May I kiss my fiance, Chaperone Jyn?’ or ‘Sorry, was I supposed to ask before kissing her then too?’ and you're not even listening to me because you're staring at him.”

You chuckle, tearing your eyes away from the door where he lingers talking to some soldier. “I wasn't staring.”

“Right, you were gazing. Asteroids strike me, you two make me sick.”

The reply is quick on your tongue, but as you go to answer, a warm hand slides under your jaw and angles your head up. Paul gives you a soft, slow kiss than borders on sensual— or down right sexual, and Jyn groans again, throwing her dinner roll at him.

“Enough! Go bother someone else!”

Paul chuckles, dodging the roll to give you a peck on the lips, “I’ll see you later? For tea?”

Jyn takes your roll then, and lobs it at his head, hitting him dead on. You snort, biting back a grin as Paul jerks back, eyeing Jyn warily when she reaches for a basket of rolls. “You will. Now go,before the floor is covered in rolls.”

“She should be scared of me, I'm a future Duke.” Paul jokes, bending to kiss you one last time and Jyn scoffs, readying another roll.

“All I see is a brat who won't leave. Shoo!” She throws another roll and this time, Paul catches it before it hits him and laughs as he scampers off to his duties.

***

Jyn tends to leave you alone during your morning lessons. She actually tends to leave you alone a lot— while she doesn't watch your every move, she watches most of them. Writing back to your mother that you were doing well, that nothing inappropriate has happened, and that you're healing.

She was mostly around you whenever Paul was, it was like a secret sixth sense she developed after you and Paul made up. Where before, when you avoided Paul like he bred the plague and he followed after you like some type of puppy— he now lingers outside your lessons, hoping to catch you alone to steal a kiss or more from you before Jyn comes to fetch you.

But Jyn wasn't an idiot, as soon as she saw that you didn't shy away from Paul's nauseatingly tender gaze, she took to waiting outside your lesson doors as well. Eyeing Paul from over her book with a frown— and Paul, bless his heart, tries to smile at her, blinking his puppy dog eyes at her and hopefully crawl his way into her heart.

But Jyn hates dogs, puppies, and all canines of any sort– her lip twitches into a scowl and she flips her page like he isn't there.

But at the end of the day, Paul didn't care. He was happy to be back in your good graces and he'd kiss you with or without an audience of one, it's just…

“Alright, enough with the face sucking and spit swapping, we have to go.”

Jyn made it impossibly hard to kiss you the way he likes to. Impossible to worship you with his lips– to build you up between tongue and teeth and have you come undone against his lips and your sighs of pleasure flood his lungs. He is being blue-balled or something similar to it—he took his pleasure into his own hands. He's already spent the past week with his eyes screwed shut and his hips canting up into his closed fist with the image of you in his mind and the memory of you on his tongue.

But it wasn't that simple, not really. He's always left feeling empty afterward; empty, sticky, and horribly gross— it wasn't the same when he dropped to his knees for you almost a month ago. Where you let yourself go and just ground yourself onto his tongue– your fingers tangled in his hair as you bucked and bucked and— “Asteroids strike me.” He muttered, his still cum slick hand slipped back between his clenching thighs and he set a steady pace. The very thought of your pleasure set his nerves alight– it was bad, no actually, Paul has it bad. Had it bad for you, for your touch, your scent and– “Stars.” he cried out, his fingers clenching around his dick and his thumb swipes over his throbbing head, pink and pearly– spouting cum like some type of fountain.

Paul has it bad for you and he makes it known, he never tried to hide it but now it was hard, hard to hold back under watchful eyes, to sneak you away from Jyn’s lock and key but he tries— Stars, does he try because if he was having trouble breaking past that barrier that guards his high, you must have it worse. Right?

“Paul.”

He grins up at you from between your legs, pausing to kiss your thigh softly– his cock twitches at the sight of you, dress pulled to your belly and panties soaked and ruined pulled to the side as you drip, it leaks down your thighs and to his mouth– he licks his way back up to where to came and gave you a soft, delicate kiss before sticking his tongue up your cunt. Your whole body jerks against his mouth, you're gasping and swallowing back your moans– blessed out little sighs leaving you as you twisted and rode his tongue with a vigor that makes his hips buck up against the tightness of his pants.

He'd cum in his pants at this rate but he thinks that's okay, as long as you got pleased he could live with that. Burying it into his memory for when he was alone and yearning for you— call Paul whatever you want, but he could not wait for your wedding day when he could finally slide you down his cock and take you the way he wanted, and a part of him hoped you wanted it too.

Somewhere along the way, he had fallen deep into his thoughts and pulled his tongue from you, only offering kitten licks and open-mouth kisses to your pulsing cunt.

“Paul, please… we don't have much time…” You whimper, canting your hips down and trying to latch onto the escaping pleasure. You were so close, so close and he kept pulling away to gaze at you like somehow your pussy held all the answers to the universe, “Paul.”

“I love when you say my name like that.” He murmurs, giving your cunt another kiss. Your hips jerk but he runs his hands over your legs, gentle at first– then after a quick rough squeeze, he throws one of your legs over your shoulder. “Love it when you beg.”

Your brows furrow, “I'm not be— oh my stars.”

He latches onto your clit with a vengeance, not bothering to let you finish your sentence— his tongue twirls and it laps one of his hands disappearing between his legs to free his dick from his pants before pumping unabashedly.

It goes on like this for a while, Paul somehow manages to distract Jyn— him never telling you how, and then he spends time with you. Be it talking, kissing or what barely counts as sex– he uses his time wisely, quickly, and most importantly he puts you first, always.

So yeah, most of his time spent with you without Jyn watching is spent between your thighs.

“Oh my– Paul, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Your grip on your silk sheets is white-knuckled tight as you thrash and whimper under the unyielding pump of his fingers. With your thighs clamped around his hand–your nightgown pushed hastily up and the glossy fucked out look in your eyes, Paul thinks you look beautiful but, he'd think you beautiful caked in dirt and soot.

“Need you.” You whine, gasping when his fingers curl up. “Need you, Paul, need you inside of me.”

And Stars did that sound tempting. Letting his head drop against your neck, he noses your pulse. “You know I can't do that.” He bites into your tender flesh, not hard enough to draw blood or leave a mark but enough to draw a desperate whine from your lips as he soothes his tongue over the mark. “We can't go that far, my love.’

“I won't tell.” You babble, his fingers pick up an unsteady pace then– they twist and go a little deeper, it's a pinch uncomfortable but his fingers ghost something spongy inside of you that makes you choke up, “Please, please, please– I won't tell, I won't.”

Paul curses softly, he knows you won't— but he also knows this is just the pleasure talking, your mind is too garbled, too mush and mess to think straight and while he wants to take you, he can't. He won't, knowing that when you come down, you'll just regret it. But maybe – maybe he could pretend, maybe…

“Void take me.” He curses. He leaves the spot from your neck and kisses you hard, your noses smush and his tongue slides past your lips and your fingers just barely tangle in his hair before he pulls away, panting against your lips. “Turn around, on your hands and knees.”

You ignore the spark of anxiety that flares through you as you listen— you trust him, you remind yourself, he won't fuck you and leave. Your nightgown must have fallen back over your ass when you turned over because one moment, he's kissing a spot under your ear pushing your nightgown up slowly and the next, he's freezing up behind you, a choke catching in his throat.

“Paul?”

But he doesn't answer you, your nightgown falls against the upper half of your back and he's touching you– if you could call the feather-light ghost of his fingers a touch– the scarred skin jumps under his fingers and he's wrenching his hand away. Oh stars, how could you forget? Anxiety builds in you where the pleasure once was and all at once, you're ripped from the cusp of a high and thrown into a frying pan.

You try to pull away from him, hips dropping as you reach back to pull the nightgown back down over you or you try but his hand shoots out and stops you.

“What happened?”

You would not cry, you didn't cry when it happened and you didn't cry when it healed— you would not cry because Paul asked in a pained voice. “It’s nothing. Just– maybe you should go–”

He shoots you an incredulous look like you just said something stupid and maybe it was but this situation was suffocating and you want out of it.

“This is not nothing.” He lets go of your hand and you let it go limp to your side. He hesitates for a moment, another ghost of a touch before he lets his fingers– his hand touches you fully, running over the raised ridges of healed skin. Soothing, he's trying to soothe you even though they're old and the moment has passed, he's trying to make you feel better.

You would not cry.

“My mother…” You start and his eyes snap up towards you instantly, a frown etching onto his face. “She didn't… she didn't like what we did… it was unbecoming of me—” You swallow and look away from him, dropping your head onto your pillow and mumble. “A slash for every minute I was gone. Seventeen minutes isn't a lot of time but in pain, I thought it'd never end.”

“My star…”

“I don't want to talk about it anymore.” You whisper, burying your head into your pillow, you try to pull your legs away from him but he keeps you there and you sigh. “If we aren't going to… to, you know. You should go, it's late.”

It takes a few moments for him to reply to you, he simply runs a hand up and down your legs softly. He hums, just barely before he squeezes your calf. “I can't have sex with you–not like that, I want to wait for our wedding day.”

You peer up at him from your pillow, confusion lining your features as his hand slides up higher– kneading at your inner thighs. “Okay.”

“But I can give you something else, okay? If you want to.” He mutters, his hand slides higher and his thumb slips through your folds, still wet and needy. It's a lazy stroke but it has you pushing back onto his hand nonetheless, you nod eagerly and he grins, leaning forward to kiss your back. “Hands and knees.”

This time, you are quicker to respond. You do as asked and Paul shifts behind you, pushing your nightgown up– he runs a hand over your scars in thought before letting his hands fall to your ass and he pulls your cheeks apart with a laugh.

Shimmying your hips in his grasp, you frown looking back. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re just so drooly.” He says, one of his hands leaves your backside and he dips his fingers into your folds collecting your slick with eager fingers. “You really love me, huh?”

“I can't believe you called it drool.” You moan when he wiggles his fingers a bit. He only chuckles as he pulls them free from your gaping cunt– he shifts again till he's towering over you, his chest pushing into your back and he rubs his soaked fingers across your lips.

“Taste yourself.”

Your lips part and he slides them past– Salt. Not overly salty, not overwhelming or underwhelmingly so, there's a still tang to it as you swirl your tongue around his fingers but you're sure that just comes from him, it's just fleshy tasting, not unpleasantly so but you didn't understand why Paul was so addicted. So lost in your own thoughts of your own taste and Paul's addiction to said taste, you don't register that Paul had shifted you– forcing you to cross your legs almost awkwardly.

You hum around his fingers in question and he presses them down against your tongue before pulling them away from you– your gaze follows his hand and your lungs nearly collapse at the sight of him running his hand over his dick. Maybe it's the angle, you pray, maybe it's the angle that makes him look big.

Paul squeezes around the base of his dick and shoots you a smile. “I’m not putting it in.”

“I kn-know.” Stars, were you stuttering?

He only chuckles, tapping your side as he shuffles closer. He takes his dick in hand and ever so gently, rubs it across your folds – hips jerking backward you let out a whine as he taps it against your cunt, rubbing the head of it against your clit. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, Paul– Just– just do something– oh my stars.”

With a roll of his hips, he slips between your closed thighs, and he rocks. It's a slow and lazy pace at first but it's enough to send both of you moaning. Paul bends, his hands planted against the base of your back, just above your scars – his breath is warm against your ear as he rolls into you.

Each roll and rock of his hips sends you further up the bed, your fingers curling deeper into your sheets and he throbs against you– pulsing and dripping down the length of your thighs as he chants your name. Reaching behind you, your fingers catch the cusp of his neck and drag him closer to your face and you kiss him– a kiss he meets with a desperate whine as his hips instantly pick up the pace.

There's no rhythm to the madness, the endless chase of his hips– the slip and slide of his dick along your folds. Sometimes he pulls back too far before rocking back into the tight space of your thighs but it's too fast and his cock catches the rim of your needy cunt and there's a shared sharp breath of 'he could.' He hesitates, panting– he could, he could, he could. But he doesn't, he never does– he just slips back between your thighs like his life depends on it and his hand slips between your thighs, thumb on your clit drawing tight circles as a steady pressure grows in your stomach and he whispers soft encouragement in your ears.

So good for me, so pretty, so soft. His hips start to stutter and he presses down harder on your clit, mouthing his way across the back of your neck. My pretty star, you're doing so well— your hips give a wild jerk here and he grips on to you tighter, a high-pitched whine just barely muffled by your pillow. You can take it, don't run from it. You can take it–

Something in your stomach snaps then and there when you cum and you're vaguely aware of Paul clamping a hand over your mouth as your eyes roll back and your body gives out— it feels different, different when it happens naturally and it's not pulled from you by The Voice. It's different because there's drowning this time– you're not drowning, you're not burning— you weren't even sure you were in your own body at this point.

Faintly, you are aware of Paul pulling away from you and releasing himself on your back as you slump forward and close your eyes.

***

“Are you okay?”

“Can’t feel my legs.”

Paul grins, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “You said that last time too.” He pulls away from you– disappearing to your bathroom as you groan into your pillow.

“Meant it last time. I'll probably say it every time.” You turn just slightly, watching as he returns with a rag and sinks back into the bed. It's warm as he starts with your legs, wiping them delicately. “How did you… how do you know how to do this?”

Paul does look up as he swipes over your ass, humming to himself. “You aren't my first.”

Oh. Oh. “Oh.” You whisper.

Clearing your throat, you pull your legs up and out of his grasp and throw them over the side of your bed. Oh. Of course. Of course, you aren't his first, why would you think that? Every experience you had has been led by him, guided by his careful hand and tongue and oh. It shouldn't feel like you were suddenly back a thousand shards. You feel sick, a little light-headed, even and the thought rings in your head; you aren't his first.

And yet, you were expected to give him all of your first. You have been giving him all of yours.

You push from the bed and almost instantly, he's at your side, smiling. It shouldn't have made you mad as it did. “Hey, you just said you can't feel your legs maybe you should sit down–”

His hand nearly falls on your shoulder but you shrug it off and grunt out. “I’m fine.” Sidestepping him, you go to your dresser and roughly yank open one of the drawers to look for nightwear.

“You clearly aren't.” He muses, he steps closer to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to his chest despite your annoyance-filled whine. “What’s the matter and don't say anything, I know it's something.”

“I’m not your first.” Somehow, saying it out loud was worse. The truth of it is hot– molten, and it sinks to the bottom of your stomach and pushes the contents upwards, bile threatens to climb up your throat but you swallow it back thickly and slip from his arms grabbing a plain pastel green nightgown and begin to shimmy out of your sweat-soaked one.

Paul only blinks. “Yeah. You aren't but it's not the biggest deal.”

But it is. It's the biggest deal when they live in a world where daughters are whipped and shunned for loving boys or girls how the boys love them. For a girl, a young woman – kissing before her wedding day was taboo, frowned upon, and downright shamed but for a young man? You didn't want to think about the praise they'd get. The praise Paul probably got.

“Okay.” You whisper, still not looking at him as you slide into the new gown. You straighten out any wrinkles, pluck out any stray threads. This gown is starless, simple but pretty. “Maybe you should go before it gets late. We both have early mornings.”

“Don’t do this. Don't start shutting me out because of this.” Paul grabs your hand but you shake it free and hold it to your chest with a frown. Paul only shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, “Would you rather I go in blind? A virgin that bumped around and hurt you?”

You pause, dropping your hand and you run it over the front of your nightgown before taking a step back. “Yes. I think… I think I would have preferred that.”

Paul blinks, throwing his hands out. “You can't be serious.”

“We would have both been virgins, Paul.” You explain softly, trying to keep your voice level and steady as you pluck at the front of your gown, anything to keep from looking at him. “We both would have been new, both would have been clueless. I would have been your first and you would have been mine.”

Paul can't help the scoff that leaves him, his voice toeing the thin line of disbelief and – was it anger? He's never been mad at her, not like the growing feeling he's beginning to feel in his chest. “So this is the taboo you chose to care about? The first? Why does it matter who's my first if you're going to be my forever?”

“It’s more than that.” You begin, you take a step away from him but he's quick to follow– more of a reflex than a conscious action, forever your shadow as you back up a few more steps and he only inches closer to you. “Daughters like me—”

“Do not give me that.” He hisses so sharp, so loud – it slices through the silence of the room. Your eyes widen and you risk a glance towards your door and a warning glare at him. Paul knows he should be quiet, while Jyn was busy if they got any louder she'd surely pause whatever she was doing to come check up on you. “Do not give me the same speech your mother does—innocent daughters and unholy sons, you are not innocent.”

The flinch that it draws from you is heart aching but it's already said, and you frown up at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that day I asked you–”

A flicker of disbelief floats across your face. “You begged me–”

“I asked you!” He snaps. “I asked you and now it's bothering you, it's bothering you that you humped my face like some– some bitch in heat!”

You gape at him for several long moments, your eyes wide as you blink– you're processing. Processing what he said and it hits you the same time it hits him that he fucked up. His face falls first, however. “Stars, I didn't mean—”

“Get out.”

He keeps trying, even taking a step closer to you. “I didn't think–” But you're pushing against him, shoving towards the door.

“Get out, get out, get out–!” Your voice is breaking now and your lips wobble as you continue to push him out. “You fucking dickhead, get out!” You shove him out of your room and catch his gaze just as you do. “I don't want to see you again– I don't want to speak to you–”

“No, no I didn't—”

“Screw you!” Your door slams shut, leaving Paul in the dark of the castle hallway.

That night, the void consumes him.

→Part three!!

#paul atreides x reader #dune #paul atreides smut #dune imagine #paul atreides #fic recs

[baddestbittyontheblock]

Daylight

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: When your boyfriend finds out he didn't make you come, his anger quickly turns into lust.

Genre: SMUT (NSFM)

Warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving/giving), teasing, cursing, mature themes, fingering, talk of sex and orgasms (obviously)!

"So, how's your boyfriend?" Dorcas Meadows asks you one evening at dinner. She leans in closer and she sings-songs the questions as if your boyfriend is some kind of burning hot scandal. You glance up from your plate, your eyebrows creasing, as you cover your mouth to swallow and then answer your friend, 

"He's fine. Why do you ask?" you can't help the warmth that rises in your cheeks at the mention of James. Sure, you've only been dating for three months but it's been an absolutely amazing three months. 

"No, no, I meant in the bedroom," Dorcas deadpans which causes you to almost choke on nothing as your other friends chuckle. 

"How'd you know about that?" You ask, sending a glance at Lily Evans who looks sheepish as she shrugs her shoulders from beside Dorcas. She was the only one who was supposed to know you had slept with James a week earlier. You made her promise not to tell anyone because well, the experience had been slightly disappointing. 

"Heard he didn't make you finish," Dorcas continues carelessly and your eyes round when you see James and his friends come up from behind her. Dorcas didn't see them and she finishes her sentence with a wide smirk, "Who would have guessed James Potter is shit at making girls come?"

Your heart pounds in your ears as James stands behind Dorcas, his mouth open and his cheeks suddenly burning crimson. His friends stand on either side of him, their faces drained of color, and you feel like you could just crawl into a hole and die. Your fake moans come back to haunt you; 

"James, J-James," you groaned, wrapping your legs around him as you bruised your face in his neck. James's curls stuck to his forehead as he moaned into your skin and sucked on your collarbone. Thinking you had finished, he pulled out and kissed your lips before he smiled an exhausted smile. 

"What?" Your boyfriend mutters, his voice shaky. His friends are silent, not daring to make a sound as yours look horrified for you. Dorcas's shoulders are tense and she looks at you, muttering a "sorry," behind her breath as she shoves her mashed potatoes in her mouth.

You've never seen James leave the Great Hall so quickly and you sprint after him. You manage to catch his arm and pull him into an empty classroom. You press your hands to his chest, letting him lean against a wall, but he just pulls your hands away.

"James Potter is shit at making girls come?" He repeats Dorcas's words, his tone piqued, and you can't tell if he's more upset or disheartened by the implications of the words. "When we," he pauses and turns his head away from you, "you didn't orgasm?" 

Frantically, you claw at his collar, shaking your head as guilt overwhelms you. "No–I- I didn't, but James," 

"You faked your orgasm?!" James interrupts, hurt now evident in his eyes as his voice grows more squeaky.

"James, I- I didn't mind," you start to explain, "Really! You were just so close and I could tell you wouldn't last much longer and- I needed more time. I didn't want to make you wait for me," you bite your lip, looking up at him. 

James's chest is rising and falling rapidly. His dark, hazel eyes flicker from yours to your lips and then to all your features in the middle. Gently, he lowers your hands from his collar. "Y/n, why didn't you tell me?" his voice comes out strained and broken.

Your heart shatters. "And why have you been going around telling all your friends I'm shit at making you come when you never even gave me the chance! I thought you had!"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," your expression hardens and you scrunch your nose, "No one was supposed to know. I only told Lily because she's my best friend. I tell her absolutely everything! I guess she must have mentioned it to the others. I'm really sorry, James. Are you terribly angry with me?"

James frowns. He obviously wants to feel angry with you. He wants to be seething mad that you faked your pleasure and then went around telling your friends, but all he can think of is that night. How you looked; that beautifully flushed expression, mussed hair against his pillow, the way your lips had opened and closed to let slip your moans. 

James clenches his fists. Had that all been a lie?

He looks at you now and his eyebrows scrunch. He walks closer to the wall, backing you into it as you stare at him. You can't help the way your heart is beating as his closeness. "Okay, tell me, what did I do that made you feel good then?" James asks seriously and you're surprised by the question.

You'd expected more yelling, or blaming—

—definitely less seducing. 

"I-," you pause when James's eyes narrow and his hand moves to hold under your chin, wrapped easily around your neck. You inhale, eyes widening as he applies some pressure. He looks angry but there is also a deep, lustful, fire burning behind his eyes. His breath fans over your mouth as he whispers, 

"What. made. you. feel. good?"

"I- I liked when you kissed me, kissed behind my ears, kissed my collarbone," you mutter, breathing becoming even harsher as you remember that night. How you'd been sprawled out on his bed, legs intertwined, and he'd kissed all your worries away. James wastes no time in attaching his lips to your neck, under your ear, and you let out a shaky breath. 

"I- also- I liked when you used your fingers," you say as if prompted by the feeling of James's foot sliding over yours and pushing your legs apart. His hand dips down to your panties and he feels how wet they've become. He doesn't comment on it, just slips his hand under them and teases your clit.

"You should have told me," he reprimands in a whisper, his fingers sliding up and down your slit. 

You clutch onto his arms and shake your head, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you mutter like a prayer. 

"You should have told me because I wouldn't have stopped until my girl had come for real," James says with a nip at your skin. You let out a whine as his finger easily slides into you and he kisses you to muffle the sound.

"Fuck, my gorgeous girl. How could you?" he says as he pulls away and looks at you with slightly glossy eyes. "How could you not tell me?"

"I didn't want to embarrass you," you whimper as he runs his thumb on your clit. 

"Embarrass me?" James's eyes darken and he uses the hand holding your chin to push your head against the wall a little harshly, he scoffs, "You did just that and so much worse, my lovely," he pauses, "It doesn't matter anymore because I'll show you that James Potter can make his girl come." 

"I'm sorry," you say again. You chew your lip to suppress the needy sounds you're making. James shakes his head with a smirk and kisses the side of your mouth. He then moves his lips onto yours, teasing you with his tongue. 

"You will be," he smirks and slides his hands down your sides until he's on his knees in front of you. You look at him, his hair is messy and his expression is flustered. James grins wolfishly. He squeezes your hips and pulls up your skirt to bunch around your waist as he kisses above your panties.

"Did I not spend enough time on foreplay with my girl? Is that what it was, lovely? Was the feel of my cock just not enough for you," he soothes your embarrassed whines with another sweet kiss on your exposed stomach, "don't be shy, it's okay. You should have told me," he insists again, his words still a little harsh.

"I'm sorry, Jamie," is all you can manage to mutter, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel James's hands grip onto your thighs. You're already soaked. How embarrassing. James smirks and pulls down your panties. He slides his index over your entrance and hums when he feels your wetness. With a wider smirk, he spreads your pussy lips and exposes your needy clit. 

"You're so needy, love," James teases, "I just can't resist kissing you all over." 

As he says this, he attaches his lips to your clit and you let out a broken moan. Your hands find his hair and you chew on your lip so your noises aren't muffled. James hadn't done anything like this the last time. It had been messy and needy the first time. He'd used his fingers to open you up but you'd both been so eager, you'd missed foreplay. 

It seems likely the lack of foreplay was the issue because you feel like you're in heaven now. 

"J-James," you moan, almost incoherent as he licks and sucks at your core like a starved man. You didn't think he'd be so good at this. Your thighs clench around his head and when he pushes them apart, you moan uncontrollably. 

"Don't," James reprimands as he opens your legs and looks up at you. You can barely focus. James smirks and licks his lips. Standing up, he takes your chin in hand. "Do'ya wanna come on my tongue or my cock, darlin'. Please, tell me now because this time you are coming. I'll make damn sure of it."

You can barely form coherent thoughts let alone words as James tightens his grip on your chin. "Tongue or cock, Y/n," he says so seriously your stomach clenches with need. 

"I- I don't know," you whimper. 

James drops your chin and makes the decision for you. With a smirk, he lowers his head and places his lips around your clit again, sucking until you're once more a moaning mess. With one last whimper, your thighs tremble and you come apart. 

James moans into your pussy, pulls away, and uses the palm of his hand to rub your clit as he finishes you off. You're completely spent when James stands and kisses you. You can taste your own release on his tongue and feel his hard cock pressed against your thigh. 

"Jamie," you whine, eyes lidded. You want to please him too. 

James just deepens your kiss and whispers into your mouth, "What do you want?"

You reach out and run your hand over the bulge in his trousers. James hisses and grips your wrist, shaking his head with a stern look. "Honey, this is about you. 'M okay," he promises, but his eyes squeeze shut as his cock hardens even more. He mutters a curse under his breath. 

"I wanna," you mutter. It's your turn to drop to your knees. 

James's protests are futile because you have his cock in your mouth very quickly. While you don't necessarily enjoy giving head, this time it feels entirely deserved and you suck him eagerly. James's hands find your hair as he curses, "Fuck me," and his hips involuntarily buck into your mouth.  

"Shit, baby, I'm gonna come," he mumbles, biting his lip. 

You take him deeper, encouraging him with a small smile as your hands find his thighs. You feel him want to pull away, not wanting to come inside your mouth, but you hold him still. With a grunt, James comes and you look up at him as you swallow obediently.

Without another word, James pulls you up and smoothes down your skirt as he spins you around and kisses you passionately. You help him tuck himself back into his trousers as he kisses you and you smile against his lips. "Thank you," you say. 

"Don't thank me for making you come, darlin'," James argues, his cheeks still a little flushed from coming and the lingering embarrassment. You move to hold his cheeks in your hand and you kiss his nose. 

"Thank you for making sure I'm taken care of," you whisper anyway and lean your forehead on his. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier," you say. 

James wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in closer, "Damn right you should be," James's eyes soften and he kisses your cheek, "I'm sorry if I made you feel like you couldn't tell me. Just know, from now on, when we play—I'll make sure you come. Hard."

You giggle at this and James just nuzzles his face in your neck, enjoying the beautiful sound of your laughter.  

#james potter #james potter x reader #marauders era #james potter imagines #smut #the marauders #fic recs #james potter smut

[baddestbittyontheblock]

One For The Road

The morning after what's meant to be a one-night-stand, Nat convinces you to stay in bed a little longer.

cw; mentions of drunk sex, thigh riding n pussy eating as god intended

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader | 18+ mdni

Nat, she told you to call her.

The woman whose taste still stains your lips, whose touch still burns your skin and voice still purrs in your memory. The woman whose bed you wake naked in, with her arms snaked around your waist.

She’s warm in a way that makes you think, for a moment as you wake, that this is familiar. You’re more comfortable than you’ve been in months, her bed plush but firm enough to support you and the gentle ache of your body after her extensive ministrations the night before.

The sun has long risen, and shines through her window in such a way that the room is bathed in radiant golden hues. You turn a little, still half-drunk on sleep, and take in the sight of Nat as she sleeps soundly. You know you should get up while you can, leave without the awkward goodbyes that follow a one night stand, but her skin is so soft and her arm such a comfort around your waist that you feel wholly stuck in place. You wonder if you could get away with closing your eyes and drifting off for a few more minutes.

“Better not be thinking about leaving me,” her voice breaks the morning silence. You turn your head and meet her eyes, tired and heavy with sleep but still boring into yours under the morning gold.

You offer her a gentle smile. “Go back to sleep,” you hum. “I’ll get out of your hair and call you later, yeah?”

You aren’t sure you even have her number saved in your phone, or where your phone is, for that matter. Despite the pang in your chest at the thought of never crossing paths with Nat again, you take the high road and move to get out of bed. Her arm tightens around your waist before you get the chance.

“Nope,” she mumbles, pulling you into her body. Skin against skin, it brings back memories of the night before that you doubt you’ll rid the taste from your lips. Nat manages to press a kiss to your collarbone. “I’m not done with you.”

She kisses you again, and again, peppering open mouthed kisses across the expanse of your chest, each time eliciting a shiver in their wake.

Your judgement isn't clouded by alcohol anymore, you can feel each trace of her lips like fire against your skin as she trails soft kisses up the column of your neck. Every breath sends your blood rushing south. You can barely manage the words you speak, drunk once again with desire.

“I thought…” you gasp when she bites at your pulsepoint. “You said last night was a one time thing.”

Nat pulls away to look at you with raised eyebrows, you grieve the loss of contact. “You think I tell the truth when I’m drunk?”

She traces a nail down your bare chest, underneath the sheet that covers the two of you, tracing invisible designs against your rib cage until your skin feels impossibly tight. You’re lost for words again, and she takes advantage of the moment, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips.

“Stay, and let me taste you again,” her tone is steady. “Or get out of my bed, you gorgeous piece of shit, and make breakfast.”

Your mind betrays you, throws away all rules and notions of a one-night-stand and moves your body on your behalf. You’re catching her lips in a kiss before you can register the hand that slips from your stomach to your thigh. You taste alcohol, and the remnants of a cigarette you barely remember her slipping out of your arms to smoke on the balcony. She takes your bottom lip between her teeth and bites down, shooting the most beautiful pain right from your lips down to your pulsing core.

Her grip is strong on your leg, fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh as if she’s trying to stake her claim on you. It’s a feeling that drives lust through you like electricity: the notion of being desired, owned. When she pulls the sheet off of the both of you and climbs over your naked frame, you feel like a woeful miscreant for ever thinking of leaving this bed. Your heart beats so hard it almost hurts. You wonder if, when her mouth latches onto one of your peaked nipples, she can feel the thrum of your heart against her lips.

“God,” starved, she presses a kiss to your other breast. “I should tie you to this bed, keep you here until you’re too fucked out to remember your own name.”

“Nat—” you try, entranced by whatever spell she’s washing over you. Her kisses trail down your stomach.

“That’s right,” she groans against your hip bone. “Let me make you mine.”

“Yes,” you vocalise your consent, but Nat tuts.

“Say please.”

“Please.”

With not even a second to spare, Nat is delving between your thighs for a taste of your lust. She groans against your pussy, already high off the taste she’s gotten, and latches her lips onto your clit in an assault fueled by need and need alone. She’s a woman with a mission, and you feel dizzy with desire for more already. You want her inside of you, her body as tightly pressed against yours as she can manage. You ache for every inch of her. For everything.

For now, though, she does what she knows you need. Your hand snakes down to grab at her red hair as her tongue works violently against your clit until you’re a writhing mess beneath her.

Once you’re close enough to the edge that you’re seeing stars, Nats scalp must burn from the stress of your pulling. Trying anything to get closer, become one with the woman so pussydrunk she’s moaning against your clit like she’s the one being unravelled.

Being as coy as she is, however, you can feel her smile against your pussy as you come close to orgasm. Just as your toes curl and a sobbed moan starts to break from your chest, Nat pulls away and leaves you bucking your hips into the air for any semblance of stimulation. You could cry.

“Had to punish you somehow for thinking you could sneak away,” Nat pushes herself up to your face, you can see a gloss of your arousal coating her lips and chin from her messy ministrations. “Sorry.”

You’re about to comment, through babbled words, that she doesn’t sound sorry when her lips meet yours once more. The kiss is messy and harsh, your teeth click together and tongues meet and you can taste yourself. She is one to share, after all. The taste of your lust mixed with the intoxicant of her lips is almost enough for you to forgive her for your ruined orgasm. Almost.

When Nat pulls away, wiping her lips with the back of her hand to maintain at least a little composure, she catches your frown and mirrors it with her own.

“What’s wrong?” She pouts, her tone mocking in a way that makes your body ache to be filled by her.

“You know what’s wrong.”

Her frown fades, and her replacing smile worsens your ache. Her chest heaves with laboured breath as Nat repositions herself, straddling one of your thighs and lowering herself against your skin.

She must have gotten off on your taste alone, because she’s wetter than you’d think reasonable. A slut for servicing you, it seems.

You lay in silence, looking breathlessly up at the woman from the bar as she starts ever so slowly rocking her hips. The sharp inhale as her clit grinds against your skin, made easy by her arousal that coats your thigh. Part of you wants to take control, grab Nat's beautiful hips and hold her down against your thigh as she rides you until her vision is tunnelled and blood boiling. The other part of you, the part that wins, can’t move an inch at the sight of the redhead using your body as nothing but a tool to get herself off with.

The sweetest of moans fall from her lips and into the air around you, a song of pleasure you doubt you’ll ever forget. You think if this goes on long enough, you could come from the sight alone: how her body moves as she rides your thigh, the bounce of her peaked breasts as her pace quickens and sounds get louder and skin gets hotter. If you’ve died and gone to heaven, you pray there’s no such thing as resurrection.

The jolts in Nats movement are a testament to her impending orgasm, she’s close, and you can tell. You almost want to buck her off you as payback for ruining your orgasm just before, but every thought of revenge is washed clean from your mind when she reaches down and slips two fingers inside of you without warning.

“You’re gonna come for me,” she bites, hips rocking against your thigh at an ungodly pace. “You’re going to come with me.”

It’s no request. It’s an order.

Nats fingers are skilled, she scissors them inside of you and circles your clit in tandem with her thumb. It’s a celestial experience, the devotion of her fingers inside of you, curling to meet your g-spot as she abuses your clit in the same motion. The sight of her losing herself as she rides your thigh to the end of her sanity— the mess of her hair and glaze of her eyes as he watches you.

“Come.”

All it takes is a word, and you’re coming unmoored beneath Nat. Black spots flood your vision as you drool a string of ‘thank you’ into the sex-heavy air. Nat shakes against your thigh, so deep in her own orgasm that she doesn’t bother to pull her fingers out of you, working on muscle memory.

You just reach the brink of tears, overstimulated as Nat returns to her right mind. You’d bet on giving her the satisfaction of pulling another orgasm from you, but she comes right and pulls her fingers away just in time to let you breathe.

The sun's golden morning glow has since passed, you aren’t sure how long you’ve been away in Nirvana. Nat brings her fingers to her mouth and licks them clean, a pornographic sight that has your glossy eyes wide. Sweat coats both of your skin, breath shared between you are laboured and heavy, and the sun seems cold in comparison to the heat of your skin.

Nat rolls off you, leaving a glistening mess on your thigh and a cold loss at her missing heat against you. When she speaks, her voice is quiet and gentle. “You were perfect.”

Another kiss as she leans over and pecks your lips. A goodbye kiss, maybe— or a ‘thank you’. She moves away, swings her legs over the side of her bed to get up and rub at her eyes, sleep still plagues her.

“I’ll uh, get you some water and find where I threw your clothes last night,” she hums. “The shower is just through those doors, if you—-”

Natasha Romanoff is stitched silent by the hand that grabs her wrist, and the body that climbs over to straddle her lap. Your eyes, dark as they look down at her and lift her chin to force her gaze. The low words you speak by her ear, poison as you parrot her own words back to her.

“Nope. I’m not done with you yet.”

req rules ⁞ request here | crossposted on ao3

#marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #fic recs

[baddestbittyontheblock]

Pay attention

Gamer ellie x female reader !

A/n: had this idea awhile back because I love gamer Els the idea is just amazing because I know she'd be a hard-core gamer. I too game but not in the way I know she would. Anyways I kinda dunno how I feel about this, I was lacking near the end with creativity but I hope you guys enjoy :)

Summary: the challenge wasn't easy, but could you resist your hot girlfriend ? Spoiler alert no

Warnings: COCKWARMING !! Soft dom Ellie. Sub reader, teasing, pet names, slight orgasm denial ??? Mdni ! And I think that's it

Masterlist

Her strap was deep inside you as you sat on her lap, your back against her front. Ellie had been gaming all day long, and truth be told. You missed her. So when she had the bright idea of the little challenge, how could you say no? She gently grabbed your face, rubbing her thumb across your cheek and says. "Go get my strap, I have a little test for you." It only intrigued you more. I mean, ofcourse you were going to get it but what possibly could this test be. As you came back over to give it to her she did what she needed to, getting back under the small blanket she had draped along her lap. She lifts it signaling for you to come sit. As you go over, in nothing but her t-shirt and underwear. You sit, in the position you're in currently. It grazing your walls.

"You're going to keep it in there ok? No protests no struggling. Keep your eye on the game, think you can do that?"

That was the challenge/test. And so far you thought you were doing pretty well. You were playing the game with ease, you found this challenge hardly challenging. But this was Ellie ofcourse she was going to make it harder for you. She leans back on the bed, resting her hands on the sheets, as she bucks her hips swiftly. Your eyes widen, making your breath hitch as you feel it move inside you, it only makes you mess up on the game. "Careful mama." You swallow, not only at the name but at every little thing she's doing right now. The strap feels as if it was deeper, she could feel the exact same thing. "Els.." She hums as you say that, only making your brain go fuzzy. "Don't struggle baby... remember what I said." Your eyes close, only for a second, remembering what she had said.

You open them again and look at the TV. Going to move the joystick on the controller. It was getting harder to focus as she fucks up into you, again. You let out a small moan, trying so hard not to make any noises. Your head turns slightly to look at her, she had a sly smirk on her face looking right at you. The next look she gave you made you instantly look back at the TV, you had to stay strong. Knowing exactly what she was up to. The neediness was increasing, you could feel it. Focusing was far from your mind right now. "Ellie." There was a silence. "Focus baby. Know you can." You didn't know why but you were starting to feel slightly frustrated. "Ellie i cant-" you breathe out, closing your eyes again. What on earth did you agree to. "Yes you can, youre doing so well." The praise goes straight to your head, resulting in you letting out a small moan. Wanting to move yourself on her strap. "Ellie please." You whine out. And she won. Making her smirk grow. She knew you'd loose this, she knew all along.

"This isn't fair.." You let out more breaths beginning to move, but she stills your hips. Letting out a tut. "The game isn't over pretty girl." You roll your eyes, swiveling on the strap, shocking her slightly as you push her down on the bed. "You're a dick." You say leaning to kiss her, wanting to wipe the growing smirk off her face. Knowing what you had just said boosted her ego more. She gladly kisses back, feeling you move on her strap. "Fuck you're hot." She mumbles against your lips, hungrily kissing you. Her hands move to your ass, lifting your her shirt up a tiny bit. As you keep the pace you could feel yourself getting tired, still with the same need as before. She notices this going to flip the two of you over. "Getting tired princess?" She lets out a small chuckle but you're too out of it to argue, letting out a small groan. And without any warning she thrusts deep and hard.

Earning a loud moan from you as you awaited her to move inside you for what felt like forever. "Oh my god-" You let out. She goes to your neck going to suck a purple mark, keeping her thrusts consistent. You could feel yourself getting closer to that amazing feeling when out of nowhere she stops inside you. "Thought I was going to go easy on you sweetheart?" You stare at her with your mouth hung open in shock, letting out another small whine. "Ellie." You wriggle underneath her, desperate for her movements. She just shakes her head. "Did you not just call me a dick a minute or two ago? Hmm?" Her tone was soft, nearly taunting. As she goes close to you ear, feeling her warm breath, sending shivers down your spine. "Y-yes-" She moves her face once you speak. "Well then, that wasn't very nice huh." At this point you weren't in the right mind to fight this. "Please Ellie please I need you so bad, I need you to fill me up so good." You blab, only for her to shut you up with a deep kiss. "Good girl, that's what I like to hear." You had to admit whenever she got like this it was insanely attractive and it only heightened your arousal. "Gunna keep being good and cum for me?" You nod, biting your lip as she begins to thrust into you again. "Words angel." "Yes." She smirks at you, speeding up a tiny bit more.

You felt it approaching quickly once again, having that knot tighten soon after, releasing with a loud moan. Her thrusts begin to slow just letting you get through your orgasm before she fully stops, pulling out of you and bringing your slightly shakey form into her chest. You try to catch your breath feeling more out of it then you were before. Everything was still and quiet. "That was a fun game." She blurts out, resulting in a small laugh from none other than you. "For you?" She then lays on her back. "You loved it." She states. You smile at her, going to crawl to lay on her, feeling genuinely exhausted. "Get some rest my love. I think I wore you out." You reply with a small hum, letting your eyes close, drifting into a deep sleep.

#ellie williams #tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #fic recs

[baddestbittyontheblock]

— lewis hamilton as your boyfriend.

he is the type of boyfriend who loves taking you everywhere he goes; if you can (and want to) he will be taking you to all the races. also to his favorite restaurant, his favorite park, favorite cafe, favorite record store, the house of his family and friends. he loves your company and always wants you around.

he remembers almost everything you like and dislike: which additionally makes him amazing at buying gifts, among other things like; surprising you with your favorite coffee or food, making playlists with songs he knows you’ll enjoy, giving your flowers in your favorite color with a little note with a sweet and thoughtful poem or a sweet lyric from your favorite song.

he always remembers your schedule or when you’re free: and calls you at those times because he wants to hear your voice. if not calls, then he likes to leave little voice messages; he loves to talk to you everyday, specially to hear about your day or what you did or gonna do. he also likes to talk about his day or what day he’s going gome (and almost ruining the surprise when talking about the gift he bought you)

he’s a smooth talker: he always knows the right things to say and mean them; he’s very open minded and hope you are too. he likes to grow and learn with (and from) you. he’s very sincere, but he knows how to say things; so if you say or do something he doesn’t like or appreciate, he will talk about it with you in a kind way with the intention of helping you and recognizing your mistake. and he honestly appreciate so much when you do the same to him. like i said, he loves learning from you, so when you talk to him about your boundaries or something he did wrong, he always say “thank you for telling me how you feel”. he really wants to improve as a person, both for himself and for you.

he always seems to know what you’re feeling - he’s good at noticing small changes in your voice, expressions, habits, or mannerisms, so “i’m fine” lies don’t really work on him. but, if you don’t want to talk about it, he will respect you 100% and will make it clear that if you need him for anything or if you want to vent or ask for advice, you can call him at any time because he will always be there for you.

he respects you a lot; your ideas, opinions, tastes and styles. he never judges you or laughs at you for something you like and appreciate, quite the opposite, he encourages you to do the things you like and even tries to take part in your interests.

he thinks a lot about your future together; about what your house would be like when you live together and the things you will do together. about trips he wants to take with you, about holidays and festivals he wants to go to with you, about your family and friends, about children... literally everything; he can’t imagine his future without you, in everything he thinks, you are there by his side and that couldn’t make him more excited.

he is very cuddly and just soothing and comfortable to be around; he’s so sweet and lovely with you that always makes your heart race. he loves to wake you up with hugs and little kisses spreads all over your face; you always open your eyes with a soft smile, he smiles back and says “good morning, love.” he likes to sends you sweet, little texts throughout the day to check on you: always making sure you’re healthy and eating well. 

he loves showing you off to people; he introduces you to friends and family with a big smile on his face, his eyes shining as he says “this is y/n, my partner”. he is so proud to be your boyfriend and you can feel how much he loves you.

he’s just so in love with you: he loves looking at you and doesn’t stop when you look back or get shy. he loves taking candid photos of you and loves being your personal photographer when you need. his wallpaper is one of your pics that he loves so much or one of the two of you that represents how much you two love each other. he loves talking about you or mentioning you in conversations with friends and family, like “oh, y/n likes that!” or “do you know y/n? my part er?”

#f1 x reader #f1 #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lh44 #fic recs

[baddestbittyontheblock]

coquette dividers by me! give credit if use

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⌇ pink dividers

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⌇ coquette dividers

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⌇ pink & beige dividers

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Pixel hearts | green

For custom colors just shoot me an ask!

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SUPPORT BANNERS | olive green.

i need to make a green theme for myself someday . . . but for now, enjoy these olive green support banners !

find the matching mdni banners here

feel free to use; please like, reblog, and credit 〜

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— ★ . 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍: ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀs ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇᴛᴀᴇʏ

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