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perlelune · 2 months

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Play with Fire | Feyd-Rautha

Your secret tryst with the na-Baron should have ended the moment you returned to your betrothed on Caladan. And it would have, if your lover was willing to let you go.

Warnings: NON-CON, Knife Play, Blood Play, Breeding Kink, Jealousy, Cheating, Blackmail, Murder, Slight Paul Atreides x Reader, Incest

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

A raspy moan erupts from Feyd-Rautha’s throat as your slick walls squeeze around his hard cock. Your head tosses back, pleasure swirling through your core. Your nails rake across his sculpted, ivory chest and he purrs. You bury them in his flesh, scattering crimson lines across his skin. His hands curl around your hips as he thrusts into you more vigorously. You dig your heels into the rumpled sheets, your mind blanking as his pelvis massages your bundle of nerves.

You chew on your lip, willing yourself to be more quiet. The most arduous task considering the mind-blowing sensations coursing through your heated flesh. Your reputation hinges upon it. If anyone brushed past the na-Baron’s chambers and recognized your voice…you would be ruined.

What a lewd picture the two of you must paint from afar. You, a proper lady from a noble house of Caladan, riding Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s cock with wanton abandon, your dress bunched around you, sweat glistening off your panting frame. The Harkonnen heir-designate is in quite a disheveled state himself, grunting below you, his dark gaze hazy with lust.

“You are a goddess, my darling,” he lauds.

The echo of his gruff baritone ripples across your skin. Feral need bleeds from his words, his ravenous gaze riveted to your writhing form above him. It’s evident the na-Baron is basking in this sight, his tongue flicking through his lips every once in a while. The trail of his dusky eyes goes from your bouncing chest to your entrance, greedily sucking every inch of his length.

“Then fuck me like a god would,” you dare him with a smug smile. A risky move, particularly considering how deep inside you he already is, pulling broken moans from you each time his taut hips meet yours. But you want to push his buttons even more, see how far you can take it.

Grazing the flickering candlelight isn’t enough. You want a blazing inferno to engulf you whole.

You cock your eyebrow and sneer, “I expected more from such a great warrior.” You grab the long silver dagger lying beside him. Feyd-Rautha hardly goes anywhere without a deadly weapon nearby. His bed is no different. You push the tip against his throat. “Fuck me as if your life depended on it, na-Baron…because it does.”

Most men would cower at such words. But Feyd-Rautha isn’t most men. A wild glint of excitement blooms in his orbs. His throat bobs, a look of satisfaction so intense crossing his features, you wonder if he’ll spill himself inside you right at that moment.

He welcomes the threat upon his life like the most wondrous gift, making no move to shirk away from the sharp edge kissing his throat. Bliss decorates his features as you nick him in various spots with the blade, lingering so he feels every ounce of the sting when his flesh is sliced. Your blade curves meticulous patterns in his ivory flesh, drawing raspy moans and elated growls from him. You spread your hand across his chest, pressing your palm into the fresh wounds. Dark blood is smeared across his pale chest. The na-Baron moans at your touch, the pain delighting him. He embraces it as much as the pleasure. Perhaps even more.

He accepts the challenge you give him. A squeal shoots through your lips as he flips your bodies, forcing you on your stomach. He pushes the flowing fabric of your dress up until your dripping folds are bare to him. A shiver of anticipation courses through you when his thick tip presses against your weeping entrance. The blade slips through your fingers, a soundless scream parting from your throat when he slams his cock into you from behind.

The metallic taste of your own blood rains on your tongue when you bite your lip, confining every sound fighting to be unleashed. He wraps his hand around your nape, shoving your head into the mattress, allowing you no time to gather your breath. Each of his thrusts is brutal and unforgiving. He ruins your walls without a care. You find yourself almost wishing you didn’t agitate the beast inside him. Almost. If the sinful dance of torment and bliss weren’t so entrancing, perhaps you would regret it.

His muscular frame covers yours. His scorching breath glosses over the back of your neck as he inquires, “Does my cock meet your high standards, my Lady?”

Your chest heaves as you whimper underneath him. You are so delirious with both pain and pleasure that it’s hard to even think coherent words, let alone utter them. Feyd tears you from your haze with a pointed pinch on your swollen bundle of nerves, making you cry out.

“It’s…a-adequate, my Lord,” you stutter between panting breaths.

“Just adequate?” he scoffs. “Well, this will not do.”

Determined to have you choke on every taunt you threw at him, the na-Baron isn’t satisfied until you’re passed out underneath him. He finds his release as your walls spasm around him. Even as you’re on the cusp of collapse, you urge him to pull out, coaxing him to spill himself over your belly. A sliver of annoyance passes over his features before he surrenders to your wishes. Relief fills you when his warm, sticky seed coats your stomach.

You doubt your fiancé would respond well to you returning with a Harkonnen bastard growing in your womb.

As you wipe yourself with a damp cloth on the edge of the bed, you inform, “My mother and I are returning to Caladan tomorrow.” He doesn’t acknowledge you at first, sitting with his leg bent, completely unabashed in his nakedness. You let your gaze roam over his smooth, hairless muscled flesh. It’s a pleasant sight, one you commit to memory. You’ve enjoyed your time with the na-Baron. And not only did you enjoy yourself, you’ve shed the fear you harbored regarding your wedding night. You loathed the idea of being some shivering, terrified maiden before your husband. You long for more. Giving pleasure but also receiving it. Reciprocity.

Feyd’s head turns. His alabaster face betrays no emotion. He observes, “This was a brief trip.” He tilts his head. “Must I expect your next visit to end as swiftly?”

Mirth tugs the corners of your lips skyward. You crawl towards him.

“There will be no more visits.”

His jaw ticks.

“Is that so?”

You cup his cheek and state, “I am to be married soon.”

A hint of possessiveness flashes across his stony features. Subtle, but there nonetheless. You’ve learnt to decipher the minute shifts in his expression in the two weeks you have spent on Giedi Prime.

He snickers.

“To some lesser man, I reckon.”

You bend over his shoulder. A teasing lilt sneaks into your voice.

“Are you seized by jealousy, my lord, consumed with burning rage at the thought of another man touching me in the ways you have…” Your lips graze his earshell. “Perhaps even being inside me?”

His hand shoots out to clasp around your throat.

“Jealousy is for the weak,” he grates, his cheek pulsing. You smirk. Stoking the flames of his ire often yields…interesting results.

“Then does that make you your weakness, na-Baron?” you jest boldly.

The hand around your throat tightens, impeding your airways. A whine escapes through your lips. He hauls you off the bed and shoves you onto the floor.

“Darling…” he warns, his grip around your neck unwavering. “You speak too much when your mouth should be full of me. On your knees.”

You scowl at his imperious inflection but comply regardless. This is your last encounter with Feyd-Rautha. The last time you bend to his whims. While you’re not fond of his tone, you can discard your disgruntlement for a brief time.

You wrap your fingers around his length. Your dauntless gaze rises to meet his as you start planting kisses along the dark, swollen tip of his pale cock.

“Your wish is my command, my Lord na-Baron,” you whisper teasingly.

You never expected to entertain a secret affair with Feyd-Rautha of all men. For the entirety of your girlhood, you heard horror stories about the Harkonnen, how ruthless and cruel they are, how their wasteland of a planet is a cold, inhospitable rock.

So when your mother announced the two of you would be going on a diplomatic trip to Giedi Prime, you weren’t thrilled. In fact, fear surged through you that day. You kept picturing some awful thing happening as soon as you landed. You thought it to be a punishment, and wondered if perhaps you had offended Leto Atreides and his family in some form without realizing it.

However your parents explained the idea stemmed from a clumsy attempt at quelling the long-standing rivalry between House Atreides and House Harkonnen. Keep those tensions from building into an all-out interstellar war.

While Duke Leto Atreides will not risk his son’s life for a last ditch attempt at peace, the lives of members of a House Minor who swore him allegiance many years ago are more…expendable you suppose.

It is how you, daughter of an Earl with close ties to house Atreides, found yourself on Giedi Prime. Your father voiced his hopes that your sweet disposition would rub off on Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen as he bid you goodbye.

Perhaps that plan worked a bit too well.

You barely understood how it happened. How your path and Feyd-Rautha’s collided in such an...unexpected way.

It all started the day you watched him - admired him truly - through your binoculars as he performed in the gladiator arena. That day, a hundred doors opened up inside you, each clamoring to be crossed. Like a castle brimming with rooms you never explored.

The spectacle of death should have repulsed you. Instead, you found his bellicose dance over the sand as the crowd cheered him on fascinating. You were unable to tear your gaze away that day. Inexplicably drawn to something twisted and sick you shouldn’t crave, yet did anyway. You found yourself wondering if those deft, pale fingers are as apt with…other things as they are with blades. It kept you awake at night and obliterated every other thought. How he’d be like. What he tasted like. What it would take to coax out that ferocity you saw in the arena in wildly different circumstances. That strange, irresistible force kept pulling you into his orbit.

So one day, you surrendered to it and snuck into his chambers, offering him your maidenhood. And he took it without hesitation.

In a life in which every decision is made for you, either by your mother, or your father or the Bene Gesserit…It is freeing to finally make a choice for yourself, one that only serves you and not the ends of a mysterious sisterhood whose obscure prophecies mean nothing to you.

However, while you have plucked a modicum of gratification from this affair, it must end. For not only are you spoken for but, during your time on Giedi Prime, you have borne witness to the depth of the na-Baron’s heartlessness.

While you admire his prowess in the arena, you resent his disregard for human life. You’ve trembled as you watched him slaughter servants to test the sharpness of his weapons, slice a cook’s throat for bringing him a meal he found under-seasoned or not warm enough, gut innocent bystanders simply because he had the impulse to do it.

Feyd-Rautha is a mercurial beast. A prime example of the Harkonnens’ capacity for unprovoked, gratuitous violence.

Therefore a flurry of comfort flows you through at the prospect that you’ll be going home soon, back to Caladan’s familiar, flourishing landscapes. Whatever thrill the affair elicited before is beginning to wear off. You long to be home and return to your fiancé.

However that sense of peace crumbles when you return to your chambers that night and find your mother waiting for you on the bed. You smooth out the wrinkles in your dress. It’s useless. The evidence must be all over you because she stomps in your direction, a wild look of rage distorting her usually demure features.

“Have you lost your sanity?” she roars.

You shake your head, feigning ignorance.

“Mother, I have no idea-”

It’s not until the sharp ringing of your mother’s palm flying across your face fills your ears that you realize that she just hit you, the searing sting of pain spreading belatedly. Almost like time stood still in the crux of that instant, leashed by your shock and disbelief. Your mother has never laid hands on you before. Not even once.

Your wide eyes find hers.

She shakes a berating finger at you.

“Do not lie to me, child. How many kinds of an idiot do you believe me to be?” Your mouth shudders as you clutch your throbbing cheek. The strength with which your mother struck you still pulses right below your fingertips. “You even reek of his foul stench. My own flesh and blood…smelling like a filthy Harkonnen whore.”

Your face burns, from both pain and shame.

“You foolish girl.” Her gaze narrows as she leans back, gulping a wide lungful before speaking again. “After your father and I moved the heavens to secure a worthy match for you?” She shakes her head. “You are lucky we are leaving tomorrow and that your father will not hear a word of this.” She pauses, sadness and disgust tinging her tone. “You were such a sweet, kind little girl, so curious and clever, always clinging to my skirts…” Your mother sighs. “So dutiful. What mistake did I make in raising you for you to become such an utter disappointment?”

Your heart shrinks under her accusing glare. A sheet of guilt pervades you as you fall silent, finding no word to stand up to your mother. She is right. Reality crashes over you. You were in a haze, a lust-driven fog. Now you’re wide awake, as if a bucket of freezing water was poured over you. You have besmirched yourself and your house, tossing away your virtue for…what? Ephemeral moments of delight. The more you mull over your actions, the more you realize how impulse-driven and dangerous they were…that all of it was a mistake.

Your mother’s words drop a hot stone of shame in the pit of your stomach, one that remains lodged inside you even as you land on Caladan. Not a single word is exchanged between the two of you in the brief time you sit together in the starship transporting you back home. Instead, a heavy silence rife with animosity fills the air.

You’re grateful Feyd-Rautha is notably absent the day of your departure. You don’t have the fortitude to peer at him, face your mistakes. And it’s what he is. The walking, breathing embodiment of your mistakes.

So in the ephemeral span of time required for time and space to fold and bring you back home, you sink back into your role of virtuous and demure lady of your house.

As you and your parents disembark, you let your eyes soak in Caladan’s beautiful landscapes. Lush, green plains fill your sight, their familiarity sending a wave of calm through you. Finally, you’re home. Light-years away from bloodthirsty warriors and caliginous planets with blotted skies rife with smoke and pollution. You are ready to bury the entire ordeal behind you and return to normalcy.

Expectedly, the Atreides clan is there to welcome you and your parents back home.

A small smile appears on Paul’s face when your gaze lands on him. Your stomach knots as you return it. He can never learn what occurred on Giedi Prime. That secret will follow you to your grave. You approach him, pointedly ignoring your mother’s sizzling stare.

Her apprehension permeates through you even from where you are. There can be no other mistakes.

Your match with Paul Atreides must be a success. For both your house’s sake and the safe continuation of the Bene Gesserit’s breeding program. The pinnacle of centuries of scheming and puppeteering from the shadows. Your mother impressed it upon you many times over the years. How the purity of the bloodlines must be preserved. How all of it serves to bring humanity closer to its age of enlightenment. And while you are not so conceited to believe you will bring forth the long-awaited Kwisatz Aderach…you understand your role in producing an offspring that perhaps may nudge the sisterhood closer to that goal.

You suppress the tremor in your hand as your cousin plucks your hand to kiss the back of it.

“May we walk together for some time?” he inquires.

Relief swells inside you. Chatting away from prying ears is a welcome prospect, the combined scrutinies of both your families flaring your nerves. You can even feel Lady Jessica’s attention on you now. What if your mother’s half-sister saw right through you? Your aunt’s sharp Bene Gesserit’s senses have always stirred a vague unease within you. Today even more so, as you choke on so many secrets you can barely breathe.

“With pleasure,” you respond, accepting his hand as he guides you away from the welcoming committee.

The two of you engage in a tranquil stroll across the grassy field.

“I trust your journey went well, cousin,” Paul says.

Flashes of torrid nights spent in a bed you shouldn’t be in force their way inside your mind. You quell the pesky memories, your brows knitting.

You coax a demure smile onto your features.

“It was a…learning opportunity. One I wholly embraced.”

Naturally, you spare your soon-to-be husband the details of what it is you learned and with who.

Your fiancé nods.

“It sounds delightful.” His green eyes soften as he mumbles, “You were missed.”

“By you, my Lord?” you beam, happiness fluttering through you.

Over the last few months, since the official announcement of your betrothal, your fondness for Paul grew the more time you two shared. The crush you harbored for him as a child blossomed into more, his kindness and nobility of heart winning you over. But you never expected him to reciprocate those feelings.

A hint of pink dusts Paul’s cheeks. Straightening his spine, he clears his throat.

“Many…including myself,” he answers evasively.

Your smile widens. “I would hope my betrothed noticed my absence.”

Warmth rushes through you as replies, his tone dropping, “It was definitely noticed, my Lady.”

He suddenly falls quiet. Thoughts seem to lurk in his mind, causing a deep frown to carve his brow.

Concern tickles your insides.

“Is something troubling you, my Lord?”

He hesitates, his thin lips squeezing before he reveals, “Mother believes I should take you as concubine, not as a wife, in case another marriage prospect presents itself to me.”

You ponder his words. It does not surprise you coming from your cunning aunt, that she would encourage her son to keep his options open the way his father did. A sliver of bitter disappointment percolates through your chest. Being Paul Atreides’ concubine would have its range of perks. You could stand beside him, share his bed and perhaps even a genuine love one day. One as deep and true as the one his parents have nurtured for years.

But it would also mean that while you’d undeniably be his, Paul would never truly be yours…that he could become someone else’s overnight to secure some treaty or alliance with another house.

Still, you conceal the panic rushing through you with a meek nod.

“It would be a clever move,” you say. You hold his eyes. “What did the Duke say?”

“That he regrets not making my mother his Duchess everyday.”

He seizes your hands, his fingers curling tightly around yours. Determination steels his olive gaze. “I do not wish to repeat my father’s mistakes,” he states.

The worry building inside you is stifled by his soft reassurance.

“That is a relief to hear, my Lord.”

As Paul’s fond gaze rests on you however, guilt creeps inside you once more, your mind wandering to the debauchery you surrendered to on Geidi Prime. Self-loathing fills you.

You tear your hands from his, your focus tumbling to the ground.

“Are you unwell, my Lady?” he asks, his tone dripping with concern.

You shake your head, giving a false smile.

“It’s nothing. I was simply lost in my thoughts,” you lie.

Interest blooms in his green orbs. “Would you care to share them with me?”

The blood in your veins freezes. You pale to think how Paul, your beloved, his beautiful eyes overflowing with love and trust, would look at you if he knew. The mere thought makes you queasy. He can never know.

“I was simply overwhelmed with excitement at the thought of our union, my Lord.”

He accepts your explanation without a shadow of doubt in his eyes. He takes your hands in his again, fervently promising, “I am aware that greater forces may have rushed our union, but I want you to know. I will love and cherish you with my whole heart.”

For several days, you get to bask in your renewed peace, finding solace in returning to your habits and focusing on the wedding preparations. While your mother’s coldness remains, you don’t let her behavior cast a pale on your happiness. Besides, she will be compelled to acknowledge your efforts over time, how much you strive to do nothing but bring pride to your house. You may have faltered on Giedi Prime, yielded to your baser instincts. But it is all in the past.

The dusky planet will fade. Feyd-Rautha will fade. And soon, memories of your life with Paul will replace those fleeting moments of weakness.

So, for a while, all is well, your mind at rest and your spirits lifted. All is well... until nothing is.

Until a handmaiden brutally tears you from your slumber one morning.

“My lady, you must awake now,” she whispers, urgency laced in her tone.

“Arisha…The Devil himself must sleep at this hour,” you groan, burying your head in your soft, comfortable pillow.

A Harkonnen ship just pierced through the Caladan exosphere. Its landing is imminent.”

Dread shoots through you.

The news has you leaping out of bed, abruptly hurling you into a state of complete wakefulness.

You whirl towards her.

“A Harkonnen ship?” you screech, your voice wavering.

“Yes, my Lady,” Arisha confirms.

Your mind throbs as alarm pulses through you. A Harkonnen ship…here on Caladan? This isn’t just strange. It is unprecedented.

“Help me get dressed, at once,” you command, already shedding your nightgown.

You rush to get ready, joining your family as they hop on an aircraft to reach the landing site. Your chest is tight the entire time.

When you arrive, a striking scene welcomes you. On one side of the large landing strip, the Atreides army stands proudly, flanking the Duke and his family, while on the other there is a Harkonnen battalion, accompanied by a large swarm of Sardaukar soldiers.

A thick layer of tension coats the air, so palpable you feel its weight on your skin as you join the Atreides’ side. Both sides are poised for battle, ready to draw their weapons and unleash hell if need be. The fresh morning Caladan breeze is heavy with the threat of imminent bloodshed. Your gaze drifts to the mighty Duncan Idaho. The swordmaster’s face is uncharacteristically stern, the usual cockiness he dons gone from his features.

You swallow past the dryness in your throat.

You pivot to Thufir Hawat, the Atreides’ mentat. A hushed question rushes through your lips. “Thufir, how much will it cost them, traveling this far from Giedi Prime to Caladan?”

The mentat’s orbs gloss over with a white veil as his genetically altered mind runs calculations faster than any regular human could. Within a few seconds, he supplies a precise answer. “Two guild navigators, a total of one million two hundred ninety thousand fifty three and a quarter solaris round trip, my Lady.”

You release a quivering breath. The cost of the trip alone has a pang of foreboding twist your insides. Who squanders such a vast amount of solaris over a courtesy visit in enemy territory?

Only a fool or a madman would do such a thing.

Your eyes travel across the field. A familiar dark gaze corrals yours. Your heart skips a beat. For brief seconds, familiar pale lips rise in a taunting smile.

A shudder rocks through your frame. You lower your eyes, keeping them on the grass.

Him? Here? On your beloved Caladan? Adrenaline pumps through your blood, your pulse spiking. A frown forms on your brow. Sense is amiss here. You thought him a beast, driven by nothing but violence and lust. But as you take in the scene unfolding before you, the two enemy armies trapped in a standstill, you understand more clearly.

This is not some impulsive, foolish attempt. This is a calculated move. No side can hurt each other this openly without annihilating each other and causing a global, intergalactic incident. The other houses of the Landsraad would be forced to declare allegiance for one side or the other. The Imperium would be compelled to respond. Chaos would erupt.

And it’s blatant the na-Baron knows it, a smugness etched on his face despite standing in enemy fields.

You are so consumed by your raging train of thoughts that you nearly miss the tail end of the conversation between the Duke, your father and him.

Shock bolts through you when you catch the suggestion that he should stay in your family’s estate.

Indignation pulses through your words.

“In our home, father?”

Your father shoots you a withering glance. Your head dips as you bite your tongue. No protest should have risen from it. As an Earl’s daughter, your opinion in such matters is irrelevant. So despite the frustration and horror swelling inside you, you bind every objection to the cage of your sealed lips.

His gristly, arrogant baritone booms across the field.

“In light of the…belligerent history House Harkonnen and House Atreides share, I believe it may be ill-advised for me to stay at Castle Caladan.” Despite your bowed head, you can paint a vivid picture of the haughty smile stretched on his lips as he says, “And since our two houses have grown undeniably close, thanks to your daughter’s most skilled, clever tongue...” Your heart races as you quietly pray no one present deciphers the lewd implication behind his words. “It is where I shall take residence for the duration of my stay.”

Later that same day, Feyd-Rautha wastes no time in finding you, making the purpose of his visit clear when he sneaks into your chambers. His reflection in your vanity mirror as you remove your headdress startles you.

You jump to your feet.

“Guards?” you call sharply.

He cocks his head, a smirk ghosting over his plump lips.

“Guards?” he repeats, openly mocking you. “I have Harkonnen soldiers at your door, my darling.”

A shudder ripples through your spine. You lift your chin, your tone firm and commanding as you say, “You can’t be here, na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. It is inappropriate.”

He snorts.

“Inappropriate?” A predatory look crosses his features as his dark gaze roams over you, seeming to peel the layers of your dress. “I do not recall that being an issue when I had you spread over my cock back on Giedi Prime.”

Heat rushes to your face at his lewd reminder.

“Y-You must leave,” you insist, fighting to quell the tremor in your voice.

“Or what?” he challenges, taking slow, lithe steps in your direction. Your pulse soars. “Will you scream?” A crooked slant appears on his mouth, the prospect clearly filling him with great delight. He hums low in his throat. “Then how will you explain my presence in your chambers?”

You recoil, every hair on your body bristling as he inches closer. The realization that you are alone with him, with no help coming, that power you held before now robbed from you, has dread steadily mounting inside you. On Giedi Prime, he was a leashed monster, one you felt you could sway as you like. Here in your room, he is a ravenous creature, hungry for blood and retribution. One you no longer have control over.

You dash towards the exit. He smoothly impedes your attempt at escaping, his fingers fastening around your wrist while he grabs your body from behind. He yanks you backwards, pulling you against his chest.

“Not so fast,” he sneers. His tongue slips out to drag across your temple. You wince, jerking in his embrace to free yourself. You bend over him and sink your teeth in the flesh of his arm. He purrs in pleasure, his hold on you tightening. His gravelly whisper summons goosebumps on your skin. “Oh darling, such a slippery one you are, always trying to run from me whenever things start to become most…interesting.”

He hauls you to your bed. Your heels dig into the ground to resist. His patience fizzles out and he throws you onto the carpeted floor instead. The clamor of your drumming heart rises to a crescendo in your ears. He looms over you, his body caging yours. Terrorized, you gape at him, an helplessness you never felt before pulsing through your veins. Your chest heaves rapidly, alarm widening your gaze as he reaches down to pull down his black pants. His erect, alabaster cock slips free, the swollen tip already shimmering with the evidence of his need. A scream dies in your throat when his fingers wrap around your neck, bruises already forming in his painful grip.

You thrash beneath him, clawing and biting every part of him you can reach. Your feistiness only serves to galvanize him further. A demented look of amusement decorates his handsome face as you struggle underneath his frame. His throbbing length pokes your stomach. You kick your legs, desperation radiating through your chest. He places himself between your thighs, pushing your dress out of the way until it’s bunched around your waist. A raspy sigh leaves him as he nudges his thick, leaking tip against your dry entrance.

Terror sings through your veins.

He revels in every bit of fight you give him, plucking satisfaction in watching you exert yourself to delay the inevitable. A hungry wolf toying with a lamb before sinking his teeth. Even as you grab the dagger hidden under your skirts and try to stab him, he’s undeterred, the flicker of surprise shifting to a smile when you nick his shoulder blade. He wrenches it from your hand with little effort, once more demonstrating that whatever frail control you thought you ever had…was just an illusion. You squeal in pain as he twists your wrists above your head, his steely grip nearly snapping your bones.

“No…don’t you dare,” you hiss, the confidence in your voice faltering as you feel him push inside you.

His warm breath brushes over your face. “I traveled across the stars to find you again. I will take what is rightfully mine.”

Your back folds as he spears you with his cock. The room blurs around you, the sudden searing pain as he begins to move inside you almost knocking you unconscious. He never took you like that. Like an animal in heat, desperate to reach his high. You choke on your breath with every one of his quick, feral thrusts.

His lips sweep over yours, ravenous and possessive. You bite him and he growls, somehow growing harder inside you. His sick enjoyment of this makes you shudder. He fondles your soft flesh, groaning into the bloody kiss. Black teeth trail possessive bites along the quivering column of your neck. His hands feel everywhere on your reluctant flesh, the weight of him suffocating as his greedy mouth tastes yours.

“You thought you could toy with me and toss me aside when it pleased you,” he rumbles, squeezing your jaw. His fingers dig painfully into your cheeks. “I am Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. I am not some spoiled little princess’ toy.”

The last remnants of bravado inside you are swiftly pushed by the hasty, merciless snap of his hips into yours. You try to ignore the horrid heat gathering in your lower belly, the spasms rocking through your core every time he hits those tender spots he’s come to know too well.

“I’m delighted to see your body hasn’t forgotten me, darling,” he taunts, yanking a drawn-out whimper from you as his cock punches through your walls.

Your chest grazes his, his form draping over yours as you sag against the floor of your bedroom, completely defeated.

“Please…” The desperate, feeble cry falls from your tongue in a last ditch effort to get him to stop. It only makes him smile down at you, a glint of victory illuminating his dark orbs. Tears well up in your eyes as you grow overwhelmed with fear, confused and terrified by the way your body yields to him. Your walls constrict around him, hugging his cock as if welcoming the assault. A wave of sickness spreads through you.

His tongue traces a slow path across your cheek, collecting the salty trails streaming down your face. He moans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Your tears taste sweeter than I could have imagined. Almost as sweet as that tight cunt of yours.” He licks his lips. “Perhaps I shall aim to make you cry for me more often.”

When his warm spent glazes your ruined walls, his sweat-covered muscular frame covers yours. He remains buried inside you, crudely pushing back the sticky excess with his fingers. You shiver beneath him, weeping quietly, forever destroyed, forever changed.

Head nestled in the crook of your neck, he whispers, “We shall see how well my seed blossoms in your garden, my darling.”

“I do not understand,” Paul says, turning a dismayed frown upon you. “You are to be his willing bride?”

Swallowing a deep breath, you recollect the events that have led you here. Led you to stand here before the members of House Atreides, before your fiancé, to announce that you will not marry Paul. Led to you disgracing yourself and your house.

The wayward memories slip through your grieving mind.

Focusing on their conversation is hard, the discomfort in your body making it hard to walk properly. Feyd-Rautha relishes your torment, occasionally tossing taunting glances at you above his shoulder, a secretive smirk hovering on his lips. Your fingers clench in your lap. He insisted your father give him a tour of the castle this morning, and as his supposed ‘friend’, you are naturally expected to be present. Nevermind the sickness and resentment taking hold of you whenever you look at him.

As the tour nears its end, your father asks, “Do you have everything you need, na-Baron, or do you require any further accommodations?”

Feyd-Rautha hums, as if he were truly mulling over this offer.

“Any further accommodations?” He smirks, pausing before resting his eyes on you. “I suppose your daughter’s hand in marriage will do.”

Your head snaps up, a stunned exhale bursting from your mouth.

Your father turns a puzzled frown towards the ivory-skinned young man.

“My daughter’s hand? Is this a joke?”

There isn’t a hint of mischief on the na-Baron’s face, his expression deadly serious, making your father realize…his request must be as serious. He halts in his tracks, the smile vanishing from his face.

Feyd-Rautha approaches your father, ordering rather than asking, “Cancel the match with Atreides, old man, and give your daughter to me instead.” He snickers. “Her virtue is already mine anyway.”

This sends your father into a blind rage. He draws out his sword and lunges himself at the na-Baron.

“You rascal. I will teach you-”

Your father was a great warrior once, a fearsome force on the battlefield. Duncan Idaho himself would attest to that, having fought at his side several times.

…But that was decades ago. Nowadays with his body slowed down by age, he is no match for the quick, ruthless Feyd-Rautha. He barely gets the opportunity to swing his sword at the young man once before Feyd-Rautha guides his blade below his chin and through his skull. Blood gurgles from your father’s mouth, raining over his neck and clothes before he falls into a heap on the floor.

Your stomach drops. You watch in horror at his split skull, matter spilling from it across the tiles, his rolled back eyes, his still open mouth.

You sink to the floor, crawling to his corpse. Fresh blood stains your palms as you cradle his head.

“Father!” Tears blur your sight. You lift your eyes, yelling out orders with a broken voice. “Guards! Detain him!”

Shock ripples through you as the guards ignore you, staring ahead blankly as if the gruesome scene before them didn’t exist.

Feyd-Rautha kneels at your side. He frames your chin, bending over your shoulder to whisper,

“Oh darling, do you not understand?” You hear the wicked smile in his raspy baritone. “Your house isn’t your house anymore. It is mine.” Ice bursts through your veins. His gravelly voice lowers, as if he were sharing a secret with you. “Do you wish for your sisters and mother to meet the same fate?”

Your chin wobbles in his grasp. “N-No.”

He strokes the side of your face.

“Then do everything I say.”

“Y-Yes, my Lord,” you reply with a tremulous nod.

Ire trembles through Paul’s voice, his fingers clenching into fists at his side. Disbelief and hurt contort his boyish features.

“I do not believe it. I do not believe you,” he says, pinning you with an unflinching stare. You lower your gaze. You can hardly believe it yourself. How your entire life fell apart, your future in ruins…your father’s blood now on your hands. You blink back budding tears and take a deep breath to thwart any hint of trembling in your voice. You’re grateful for the funeral veil concealing your expression. “I apologize for breaking the promise my father made.”

Paul’s jaw clenches.

“You’re lying.”

“Son…” Leto Atreides begins, a slight warning in his tone.

“There is something she isn’t telling me, father,” Paul insists, his green gaze narrowing. “Speak the truth.”

You shiver before feebly uttering, “My Lord…”

“Silence!” You flinch at the sudden wave of power engulfing you, forcing you into quietness as if someone snatched your tongue from your mouth. You release a shaky breath, staring up at Paul in shock. The Voice. Paul used the Voice on you. A Bene Gesserit skill meant to make the target bow to the user’s will. Your wide-eyed gaze rests on Paul. You never expected him to use this on you. As if you were some enemy he needed to interrogate.

His anger cracks in the air like a whip.

“I said…Speak the truth,” he snaps, using the Voice again.

A great pain settles in your body, pins and needles coursing through it. Sweat breaks out on your skin. Words tear from your throat on their own, aching as they spring from your tongue.

“I offered myself to him on Giedi Prime,” you blurt out.

Your hands fly to your mouth as soon as the words pour out of you. Your eyes fill with tears. Paul looks at you in a way he never has before. Like you’re a stranger. Your heart sinks.

“I see. So it is true.”

Meanwhile, at your side, Feyd-Rautha basks in every second of the spectacle, twisted mirth swaying in his dark orbs. He hasn’t said more than a few words during the whole exchange but it’s clear he’s plucking joy from this, reveling in your misery.

Paul nods, stepping away from you.

“You are dismissed, my Lady. You may go to your future husband.”

Paul’s icy timbre shatters what is left of your heart. He turns his back to you and you feel more alone than you ever have in your entire life. Your lips clamp shut, a cold wave setting all the way to your bones.

Even Paul’s parents, the Duke and your aunt the Lady Jessica appear disappointed in you, their eyes bereft of its usual warmth as they watch you leave with the enemy.

You have nothing, no one. Just the monster beside you. Your soon-to-be husband, who won your hand through bloodshed and deception.

Feyd-Rautha’s hand curls around your waist, guiding you towards his starship. With every step you take, further away from the Atreides castle, you feel more hollow.

“Come with me, my love. Let us go home to Giedi Prime,” the monster whispers.

You don’t put up a fight as you’re nudged inside the vessel, silently accepting your defeat. Feyd-Rautha plants a deep, slow kiss on your lips and you passively let it happen.

You admire the beautiful green fields of Caladan one last time before the doors close. An errant tear skips over your cheek. You likely will never see your planet again. And even if by some miracle you could return, you would be the enemy to all of them…even to your own family, who holds you responsible for Father’s untimely demise.

You peer down at your hands. If you let your mind wander, you start to relive that awful moment. That moment your father’s wet, warm blood coated your hands, dripping between your fingers. You will never wash off the stain, shed the guilt.

You wanted to feel the flames, experience the full-blown heat of something thrilling and new. Something you never had in your tedious, predictable existence before.

You in fact got to feel this heat. You walked through the fire and the flames consumed everything you held dear.

And now you stand amidst the ashes, everything you ever knew ripped from you forever.

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #dune fanfiction #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd-rautha #dune #dune part 2 #feyd-rautha harkonnen #dark!fic

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fozmeadows · 1 year

Text

tools not rules: the importance of critical thinking

More than once, I’ve talked about the negative implications of Evangelical/purity culture logic being uncritically replicated in fandom spaces and left-wing discourse, and have also referenced specific examples of logical overlap this produces re, in particular, the policing of sexuality. What I don’t think I’ve done before is explain how this happens: how even a well-intentioned person who’s trying to unlearn the toxic systems they grew up with can end up replicating those systems. Even if you didn’t grow up specifically in an Evangelical/purity context, if your home, school, work and/or other social environments have never encouraged or taught you to think critically, then it’s easy to fall into similar traps - so here, hopefully, is a quick explainer on how that works, and (hopefully) how to avoid it in the future.

Put simply: within Evangelism, purity culture and other strict, hierarchical social contexts, an enormous value is placed on rules, and specifically hard rules. There might be a little wiggle-room in some instances, but overwhelmingly, the rules are fixed: once you get taught that something is bad, you’re expected never to question it. Understanding the rules is secondary to obeying them, and oftentimes, asking for a more thorough explanation - no matter how innocently, even if all you’re trying to do is learn - is framed as challenging those rules, and therefore cast as disobedience. And where obedience is a virtue, disobedience is a sin. If someone breaks the rules, it doesn’t matter why they did it, only that they did. Their explanations or justifications don’t matter, and nor does the context: a rule is a rule, and rulebreakers are Bad.

In this kind of environment, therefore, you absorb three main lessons: one, to obey a rule from the moment you learn it; two, that it’s more important to follow the rules than to understand them; and three, that enforcing the rules means castigating anyone who breaks them. And these lessons go deep: they’re hard to unlearn, especially when you grow up with them through your formative years, because the consequences of breaking them - or even being seen to break them - can be socially catastrophic.

But outside these sorts of strict environments - and, honestly, even within them - that much rigidity isn’t healthy. Life is frequently far more complex and nuanced than hard rules really allow for, particularly when it comes to human psychology and behaviour - and this is where critical thinking comes in. Critical thinking allows us to evaluate the world around us on an ongoing basis: to weigh the merits of different positions; to challenge established rules if we feel they no longer serve us; to decide which new ones to institute in their place; to acknowledge that sometimes, there are no easy answers; to show the working behind our positions, and to assess the logic with which other arguments are presented to us. Critical thinking is how we graduate from a simplistic, black-and-white view of morality to a more nuanced perception of the world - but this is a very hard lesson to learn if, instead of critical thinking, we’re taught instead to put our faith in rules alone.

So: what does it actually look like, when rule-based logic is applied in left-wing spaces? I’ll give you an example:

Sally is new to both social justice and fandom. She grew up in a household that punished her for asking questions, and where she was expected to unquestioningly follow specific hard rules. Now, though, Sally has started to learn a bit more about the world outside her immediate bubble, and is realising not only that the rules she grew up with were toxic, but that she’s absorbed a lot of biases she doesn’t want to have. Sally is keen to improve herself. She wants to be a good person! So Sally joins some internet communities and starts to read up on things. Sally is well-intentioned, but she’s also never learned how to evaluate information before, and she’s certainly never had to consider that two contrasting opinions could be equally valid - how could she have, when she wasn’t allowed to ask questions, and when she was always told there was a singular Right Answer to everything? Her whole framework for learning is to Look For The Rules And Follow Them, and now that she’s learned the old rules were Bad, that means she has to figure out what the Good Rules are.

Sally isn’t aware she’s thinking of it in these terms, but subconsciously, this is how she’s learned to think. So when Sally reads a post explaining how sex work and pornography are inherently misogynistic and demeaning to women, Sally doesn’t consider this as one side of an ongoing argument, but uncritically absorbs this information as a new Rule. She reads about how it’s always bad and appropriative for someone from one culture to wear clothes from another culture, and even though she’s not quite sure of all the ways in which it applies, this becomes a Rule, too. Whatever argument she encounters first that seems reasonable becomes a Rule, and once she has the Rules, there’s no need to challenge them or research them or flesh out her understanding, because that’s never been how Rules work - and because she’s grown up in a context where the foremost way to show that you’re aware of and obeying the Rules is to shame people for breaking them, even though she’s not well-versed in these subjects, Sally begins to weigh in on debates by harshly disagreeing with anyone who offers up counter-opinions. Sometimes her disagreements are couched in borrowed terms, parroting back the logic of the Rules she’s learned, but other times, they’re simply ad hominem attacks, because at home, breaking a Rule makes you a bad person, and as such, Sally has never learned to differentiate between attacking the idea and attacking the person.

And of course, because Sally doesn’t understand the Rules in-depth, it’s harder to explain them to or debate with rulebreakers who’ve come armed with arguments she hasn’t heard before, which makes it easier and less frustrating to just insult them and point out that they ARE rulebreakers - especially if she doesn’t want to admit her confusion or the limitations of her knowledge. Most crucially of all, Sally doesn’t have a viable framework for admitting to fault or ignorance beyond a total groveling apology that doubles as a concession to having been Morally Bad, because that’s what it’s always meant to her to admit you broke a Rule. She has no template for saying, “huh, I hadn’t considered that,” or “I don’t know enough to contribute here,” or even “I was wrong; thanks for explaining!”

So instead, when challenged, Sally remains defensive: she feels guilty about the prospect of being Bad, because she absolutely doesn’t want to be a Bad Person, but she also doesn’t know how to conceptualise goodness outside of obedience. It makes her nervous and unsettled to think that strangers could think of her as a Bad Person when she’s following the Rules, and so she becomes even more aggressive when challenged to compensate, clinging all the more tightly to anyone who agrees with her, yet inevitably ending up hurt when it turns out this person or that who she thought agreed on What The Rules Were suddenly develops a different opinion, or asks a question, or does something else unsettling.

Pushed to this sort of breaking point, some people in Sally’s position go back to the fundamentalism they were raised with, not because they still agree with it, but because the lack of uniform agreement about What The Rules Are makes them feel constantly anxious and attacked, and at least before, they knew how to behave to ensure that everyone around them knew they were Good. Others turn to increasingly niche communities and social groups, constantly on paranoid alert for Deviance From The Rules. But other people eventually have the freeing realisation that the fixation on Rules and Goodness is what’s hurting them, not strangers with different opinions, and they steadily start to do what they wanted to do all along: become happier, kinder and better-informed people who can admit to human failings - including their own - without melting down about it.

THIS is what we mean when we talk about puritan logic being present in fandom and left-wing spaces: the refusal to engage with critical thinking while sticking doggedly to a single, fixed interpretation of How To Be Good. It’s not always about sexuality; it’s just that sexuality, and especially queerness, are topics we’re used to seeing conservatives talk about a certain way, and when those same rhetorical tricks show up in our fandom spaces, we know why they look familiar.

So: how do you break out of rule-based thinking? By being aware of it as a behavioural pattern. By making a conscious effort to accept that differing perspectives can sometimes have equal value, or that, even if a given argument isn’t completely sound, it might still contain a nugget of truth. By trying to be less reactive and more reflective when encountering positions different to your own. By accepting that not every argument is automatically tied to or indicative of a higher moral position: sometimes, we’re just talking about stuff! By remembering that you’re allowed to change your position, or challenge someone else’s, or ask for clarification. By understanding that having a moral code and personal principles isn’t at odds with asking questions, and that it’s possible - even desirable - to update your beliefs when you come to learn more than you did before.

This can be a scary and disquieting process to engage in, and it’s important to be aware of that, because one of the main appeals of rule-based thinking - if not the key appeal - is the comfort of moral certainty it engenders. If the rules are simple and clear, and following them is what makes you a good person, then it’s easy to know if you’re doing the right thing according to that system. It’s much, much harder and frequently more uncomfortable to be uncertain about things: to doubt, not only yourself, but the way you’ve been taught to think. And especially online, where we encounter so many more opinions and people than we might elsewhere, and where we can get dogpiled on by strangers or go viral without meaning to despite our best intentions? The prospect of being deemed Bad is genuinely terrifying. Of course we want to follow the Rules. But that’s the point of critical thinking: to try and understand that rules exist in the first place, not to be immutable and unchanging, but as tools to help us be better - and if a tool becomes defunct or broken, it only makes sense to repair it.

Rigid thinking teaches us to view the world through the lens of rules: to obey first and understand later. Critical thinking teaches us to use ideas, questions, contexts and other bits of information as analytic tools: to put understanding ahead of obedience. So if you want to break out of puritan thinking, whenever you encounter a new piece of information, ask yourself: are you absorbing it as a rule, or as a tool?

#critical thinking #logic #rhetoric #purity culture #fandom #evangelism #hierarchy #thinking

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delugguk · 10 months

Text

4:17am || jungkook

genre: drabble.

word count: 700 (lmao 7)

author note: this is not edited.

he deep breathes. “I like your waist a lot.” as you’re hugging on top of him while he traces his fingers onto your lines.

jungkook is the type to kiss your waist whenever he got the time to. there’s nothing he loved more than to kiss all over your entire body. it was like a monument for him. his favorite place to stay, his favorite piece of art. like he always says.

“‘want to eat you whole. you have no idea.” he snorts to himself with a little cheeky but shy smile. you wondered how he managed to look so cute but hot at the same time every time he did that.

he liked sex with you so much.

hard.

hard and wild sex.

messy sex in specific.

even though his angelic but sinful (at times) face doesn’t really show that.. jungkook’s very crazy and passionate about sex. but don’t get this wrong.. he it isn’t to the point of him being obsessive. — he says that not just anybody can make him be this turned on. said he has only felt this horny for you.

you believed him.

not because he had those pretty doe eyes once he told you but because ever since you started dating jungkook, he has always showed you how sincere he was with whatever he did or even said. telling you about how much he doesn’t get why people have the necessity to lie when it comes to relationships or anything else, really. - that actually was a very nice conversation you both had that you’re surely telling whoever is reading this letter, later.

he enjoyed eating you out and god damnit how much you loved that too.

he lays your body down while his kissing your tummy and waist. every time he did that you already knew what was coming next. — his piercing.. his new one in specific, you could feel it hit your clit whenever he kissed you there each. time.

smirking about it, he always did that whenever your legs glitched.. god. he even spits on it, you adored how much he wasn’t afraid of getting so messy even his chin shined of how wet you are.

not feeling even embarrassed, you could never feel that way with him. feeling him as your own cozy home, he truly is your safe place. could never get embarrassed in front of him with these type of things.. but you do are whenever he randomly compliments you..

“turn around and close your legs. want to see your ass while I fuck you like this.”

his dirty mouth.. he should shut up, but not actually.

you do as he says.

“mmh this is what I wanted.” he hisses once he opens your pussy with both fingers. very slightly. your arousal sticking to your walls just like glue is what turns him on the most. “I’m the only one who gets you like this, huh?”

he slap-grabs your ass. only making you arch your ass a little.

“fuck” he whispers more to himself.

when his dick is full out and angry slightly red, he can’t help but stroke it with your arousal before entering you. he’s playful, you hated-loved that.

pushing your ass so he can finally enter, he smirks getting the memo. a soft moan falling down his lips when he does.

he goes deep and slow. just how you like it. he preferred going a little hard but strangely enough, whenever it came to this particularly position, he always liked going so deep and slow. said you wrapped around him even better.

you could feel him full. pussy lips wrapping around him just the way he loved it. you cummed and he continued to fuck you. he cummed and still continued to fuck you. the creampie just going crazy for him, it turns him on so badly and you know that when jungkook gets like that it’s dangerous.

dangerous because of his energy and stamina. a horny jungkook is very.. dangerous.

—————————————————————————-

okay I’m ending it here lmaosososksk

I guess part two will start with “a horny jungkook is very.. dangerous.”

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mrswint3rs · 4 months

Text

Their Fav Positions (just my personal hcs)

genre: smut

pairings- Rude, Reno, Tseng, Rufus Shinra x Fem! reader (separate)

NSFW WARNING:

contains- multiple sex positions, shower sex, pussy eating, edging, overstimulation, a bit of man handling 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Rude the ‘stand and deliver’ position. He loves looking at your pleasured face, more than you know, but he gets self conscious about his own expressions. Rude prefers to keep his cool and collected demeanor. He gets embarrassed about being vocal so he tries to hold it back as much as possible, and with you bent over in front of him it makes it so you can’t see his scrunched up face as he stuffs you full. Holding your arms back to keep you standing when your knees start to give out from his hard and powerful thrusts. It gives him a sense of control, knowing that you need him to hold you. Knowing he makes you that weak. Plus, he just adores your ass. And once he gets really close to finishing, he tries to throw in a bit of dirty talk for you. His deep baritone of a voice coming out in a low growl, “Such a needy little thing, can’t even stand on your own.”

“That’s my girl, cum on my cock.”

“I’m not done with you yet. Stay with me, baby. Gonna fill you to the brim.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Reno isn’t particularly picky, but he loves starting by eating you out. He can’t explain why it gets him going so much, but it does every time without fail. Hearing your pretty whines and cries as he messily smacks and slurps up your drooling pussy. The way your thighs clench around his head, hand tangled in his red locks. The taste of you alone makes him feel feral. His arousal unbearable and seeking release, he can’t keep his hands off. Slowly fucking into his palm while his tongue explores every fold and corner of your cunt. It doesn’t take long for him to get close, the way you writhe and squirm. But he feels a need for you to finish together as one. Quickly rising to your level, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder and turning you on your side. It gives the perfect angle for both of you. Bullying his cock into your depths he whimpers and groans like he’s losing himself. Your walls flutter against him as you start to reach climax. But then he stops, right before you’re about to burst.

“hold it. just a bit longer.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tseng ‘the upstanding citizen’ position. Especially in the shower. Hooking his arms under your thighs, pinning you up to the shower wall, your tits resting against his chest. He loves everything about this position. Especially being able to look into your eyes while he fucks you silly. It’s adorable the way you cling onto him when he plunges into your tight entrance, your bodies both drenched and dripping water.

“I was looking forward to this all day at work,” he breathes, leaning in towards your face. “i missed you.” his head cocks to the side so you don’t bump noses, his lips finding yours. it’s rare for tseng to actually say and do affectionate things like that, but when he’s feeling this good, he doesn’t care how vulnerable he’s being, his true feelings just spill out. His breathy moans fill your mouth, as well as his tongue as it tangles with yours. The kiss grows more and more sloppy and heated as he feels his climax rapidly approaching. Letting out a soft cry of pleasure when it hits, cum spurting deep inside you, he stuffs it in as much as he can. But he can’t keep up for long in his weaker state, setting you down so he doesn’t drop you. His seed spills down your thighs and onto the shower floor. Another reason he loves shower sex, easy clean up.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Rufus ‘the love seat’ position. With your back to his chest, you on his lap as he sits on the edge of the bed, he loves the control. He bounces you on his cock, repeatedly ramming into your cervix and groaning into the crook of your neck. Leaving love bites and kisses wherever he can reach. His arms wrapped around your waist, hand greedily rubbing at your clit regardless of you just cumming.

“C’mon, you can take it.” he coos.

“Be a good girl for me.”

“just endure, don’t cry sweetheart.”

He loves the way you tremble and squirm in his grasp, his overstimulation unwavering. He wouldn’t stop until you begged him to. Until you absolutely couldn’t take it anymore. He was aware of your limitations and wouldn’t disrespect you by exceeding them. Though he struggled to express it, he loved you far too much to do that.

mlist

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causeilikelix · 4 months

Note

new to the blog but abt those felix throughts 😍😍 felix whos so tired of the members calling him innocent and babying him. yea its nice from time to time but hes a grown man ! so he goes 100% hard dom on you just so your moans can be heard in the dorm 🫣 also he would totally cover you in bite marks and hickeys just so he can get his point across to his group 💕

now THAT's what I'm taking about skhsfdlkfjsdlkfj

Like we all know that Felix is a lil guy with too much love in his body but soft =/= sub. He's a man very comfortable in his identity and the power he holds over you. Felix just wants to make his baby feel good but he also wants to prove a point...

Smut and warnings below the cut. MINORS DNI!!!!!!

↳ Words - 2.7k (and some change)

↳Warnings: SMUT duh, Soft!Dom Felix (I'm still getting used to writing Hard!Dom anyone) and a tough of Hard!Dom Lix at the end, afab!reader, relatively vanilla, fingering (f receiving), P in V, unprotected sex (don't), multiple orgasms, exhibitionism?, hickeys

You loved his innocent vibe! You really did! His angelic smile and his sweet words and actions is what drew you to him in the first place. He was nothing but romantic and sweet all the time. The best communicator, respectful of your boundaries, always treated you like a princess. Honestly everyone needs their own personal Felix!!

But he’s tired. He can’t help it. All of his friends baby him so much! Like Changbin said himself, Felix is happiness personified! But enough is enough. His sweet exterior is giving him a reputation he doesn’t want. When his friends talk about their sex lives, they always make these jokes that Felix must be a little pillow prince who takes what he’s given and lets his partner take the lead. In fact, his friends bet, he’s as innocent as can be and maybe you and him don’t even have sex at all!

He’s still grumbly about it when you get to the dorm one night, just to spend a little time together in between schedules. He greets you with his normal warm hug and a sweet peck but you can sense something is off.

Initially you stay in the living room to continue watching the movie the other guys are watching. It’s some action film you couldn’t give two shits about. Your legs are swung over Felix’s lap and he’s gently massaging your calves and thighs while he stares at the screen. You can hear a few of the other guys snickering but you can’t make out what they’re saying. When you glance at Felix, his eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is set. Honestly it’s kind of hot and makes heat pool between your legs. Let’s be honest though…. It’s Felix. Almost everything he does can get you wet.

The boys laugh again and you note that it’s during a not particularly funny part of the movie. This is where Felix breaks. He pushes your legs off him and grabs your hand.

“Come on, babe, this isn’t very interesting. Let’s go to my room.” Felix whispered to you, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

Your body immediately went hot and you had a feeling you knew what was on his mind. He dragged you to his room and tossed the door shut behind him.

His hands were cupping your face and pulling you into a deep kiss before the latch had fully closed. You could simply melt into his kisses. They always were deep and full of every ounce of love in his body. Tonight, however, his lips were urgent and demanding.

“I need you baby, please.” He whispered against your mouth. The need to show his friends that he wasn’t a little boy anymore coursed through him, but he would stop if you gave the word.

“Lix, I need you too.” You managed out between kisses, “But what about the guys? They’re right outside and-”

“Remember what we talked about last month?” Felix kissed down your neck and pushed you back towards the bed.

How could you forget? Most of the time you and Felix had sex it was very mutual. You didn’t do a whole lot of powerplay. Maybe a sprinkling here and there when the situation was right, but Felix loved it when sex was a mutual expression of love. A few weeks ago he asked you about exploring power play a little more and maybe experimenting with some kinks. One of them was being listened to. Not necessarily the real thing, but pretending like someone could walk in on you at any moment.

With the boys right down the hall, that one held more risk than normal.

“You wanna try it?” You asked. The back of your knees caught on the edge of the bed and you sat down. Felix weaved his fingers through your hair and bent down to kiss you. You parted your knees instinctively and Felix settled between them.

With him above you like this, you felt small under him. The thrill it gave you made your heart speed up. You gripped his slim waist to pull him closer.

“I want them to hear you while I fuck you dumb,” Felix’s voice dropped and octave. It sent a shiver down your spine. You always loved it when he got like this. When he got too horny, his voice dropped and it made you wet in an instant.

Felix’s hands made quick work of your clothes. He wasted no time in getting you naked, leaving your top and jeans in a pile on the floor. Even though you hadn’t expected to have sex on this visit, you still wore one of your cuter underwear sets. Baby pink with a little bit of lace at the top of the cups of the bra and the top of the panties, made even more innocent by a tiny rose in the center of both pieces.

Felix swallowed thickly at the sight.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?” Felix whispered. He maneuvered you onto the bed and hovered over you. You clawed at his shirt, urging him to take it off. He smirked and tugged it off. “Just say the word and I’ll stop, okay? Until then you're going to let me do whatever I want with you, right baby?”

“Yes, baby.” You nodded in understanding.

You groaned at the sight of his chiseled chest. Those gorgeous, defined ab muscles and his perfect little pink nipples made your mouth water. Everything about him was beautiful from his head to his toes. Not to mention his cock. Speaking of, you wanted to see it immediately. You tried to reach for his pants but he grabbed your wrists and shoved you back against the bed.

“No touching without permission, got it baby?” He cooed, “I wouldn’t want to have to punish you. I bet you’re already wet, aren’t you? It doesn’t take much to get my baby worked up.”

Felix slipped his hand into your underwear and seemed unfazed by the amount of slick in your panties. To be honest, you thought that there should have been more. The sudden show of power had your cunt gushing and clenching around nothing and you needed him inside you, um, yesterday.

“Felix, please!” You cried, pushing your hips up into his hand. His digits rubbed small, slow circles on your clit. Just enough to feel good but not enough to actually get anywhere.

“What do you want, baby? Good girls use their words.” Felix chided, his fingers slipping lower to tap against your entrance but not going in.

“I want you to touch me! Please!” You kept your voice quiet so that no one outside the door could hear you, but that wasn’t what Felix wanted.

“You want me to touch you? Alright, baby, I’m feeling nice today.” Felix kept his eyes on your face as he slipped two of his fingers into your tight hole with basically no resistance. He watched as your face screwed up in pleasure and your lips parted in a silent moan. “Come on you can do better than that.”

With that, Felix pumped his fingers into you. Quick thrusts wouldn’t get him where he wanted to go so he opted for long, deep strokes that pressed the pads of his fingers onto that special spot he’d found a few weeks ago. The ball of his hand pressed deliciously against your clit with every thrust. You swallowed a moan and turned your head to press your face into your arm to help silence yourself.

At this, Felix threw three quick thrusts of his fingers into you.

“Uh uh,” he chided, “I want to hear those beautiful noises of yours, baby. Let me know how good I’m making you feel, yeah?”

He pressed a few more deep and precise thrusts into you and this time you complied with a long, drawn out moan. Felix grinned. He continued like this for a few minutes, pressing his fingers in as deep as possible. He resorted to pressing his hand against your clit and his fingers massaging that spot within you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. You’re drenching my fingers already. I can’t wait until you cream my cock, baby. Keep moaning, just like that.”

He has you clenching and cumming on his fingers in seconds. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he gets your thighs shaking. You’re moaning so loudly that you’re certain that the others can hear you. Felix smiles through the whole thing. His eyes are dark as he watches you cum just from his fingers.

“Good girl, there it is. Let’s see if you can take my cock, yeah?”

“Please.” You moan loudly.

Felix pulls his fingers out of you and you whine at the loss. He pulls your panties down your legs and tosses them somewhere in the room. Next he strips from the rest of his clothes and his cock slaps against his stomach. Precum pearled at his tip and your mouth watered. You longed to take him in your mouth and suck him until he came but he had other plans.

“Hands and knees. Now.” Felix demands. He pumps his cock a few times to make sure he’s hard enough. How could he not be, though, as he watches you climb onto your hands and knees and present your ass and your glistening hole to him. He leans over you and brushes his cock along your swollen folds. “Good girl. God, you have the most perfect ass…” Felix palmed it appreciatively before pulling his hand back and landing a firm slap on the flesh.

“Fellix!” you gasped when he landed a second slap.

“That’s right, baby, remember who’s name you’re screaming when I make you cum.” Felix’s deep voice rumbles.

He lined up his tip at your entrance and rubbed it through your folds a few times, reveling in the way he could make you shiver every time his cock grazed your over-sensitive clit. When you least expected it, Felix pushed his cock into your tight, warm cunt. You both moaned out in unison when he bottomed out. His long, thick cock filled you up perfectly. It was as if your pussy was designed for him. Felix swore that he could spend the rest of his life between your legs.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you, darling?”

With that, he began thrusting. Sometimes adjusting to someone’s cock in you is a thing of myth. You can never get used to how perfectly he fills you up. It may not be the longest, but it’s thick and it stretches you more than anything or anyone else ever has. His cock has a perfect little curve to it that hits that little spot inside you whenever he angles his hips just right.

Tonight, he’s determined to get all of the sounds out of you that he can. So every single thrust is designed to do just that. He shoves himself into your snug heat as deep as he can go every single time. It’s like you can feel him in your throat. Every thrust pushes his hips flush with your ass. He takes a hand and presses on your back to push your chest onto the bed.

“Fuuuuuck baby, you feel so good.” Felix moaned, “Always so warm and tight for me, baby.”

“You feel so good inside of me,” You moan back, struggling to get your words out between Felix’s rough thrusts, “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

“Come on, moan for me baby, show them how good I make you feel.”

As if you had a choice. His thrusts were hard and he shifted his hips until his tip speared into that spot over and over again. Felix had found that spot by chance a few weeks ago when he was fingering you and now he made it a point to seek it out every time.

Felix’s hand curled around your bodies and his fingers made contact with your clit immediately. At this, you keened and let out the loudest moan of the night. Your cunt clamped onto Felix’s cock and he bit his lip to keep from cumming right there. Your tight, wet heat eas driving him crazy but you had to cum first.

He could have sworn that the TV volume lowered.

“Come on baby, cum for me.” Felix grunted, his finger swirling around your swollen clit.

Your walls clenched and fluttered around him. Something in your belly pulled taut and you rocked yourself back on Felix’s cock. The extra bit of friction made the coil pull tight. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to let your body relax so that Felix could take over and bring you to orgasm. Your moans grew louder and louder as you got closer.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You cried, “Fuck, Felix! Right there!”

“That’s a good girl, cream my cock, baby.”

The sound of the TV in the front room had stopped all together.

The extra pressure of you pushing back onto his cock was just the right thing. The intense pressure in your stomach suddenly released all at once. Your legs trembled and your body shook. Felix took over and gripped your hips tightly. He slowly guided your hips down towards the bed so you were laying flat, continuing his intense thrusts into your cunt. He leaned over you and pressed his lips to the back of your neck.

“Felix, don’t stop,” you moaned, arching your back into him to keep his dick lodged inside you as deep as possible.

Your orgasm washed over you in waves, each one resulting in a gush of wetness between your legs. His hips kept drilling into you diligently. He kissed along your shoulders and neck, sucking dark marks onto your skin. The second you rolled over, he’d give you hickeys on your neck and breasts to match these.

When he sensed your orgasm coming to an end, he slowed his hips but kept his cock lodged within your tight walls. He hadn’t come yet but he knew he had to give you a short break before he sought his own orgasm.

“Was I loud enough?” You giggled, “What was that about?”

“The guys were making fun of me, saying things like… I couldn’t be a dom because I’m too innocent, that I’m just a pillow prince and I let you do all the work.” Felix peppered soft kisses on your skin.

“That’s not it at all baby! We just like sex to be reciprocal, that’s all.”

“I know, but I guess I needed a little ego boost.” Felix shrugged.

“Well if I get to come like that every time we need an ego boost, by all means,” You giggled, rubbing your ass back into him and making his cock slide against your puffy walls, making you both gasp. “I think you could stand to be a little meaner, though.”

“What? You want me to be mean to you?” Felix stared at you with large eyes.

“Maybe a little more.”

“Oh, so you want me to call you my own little personal slut?” Felix whispered in your ear. That tantalizing voice of his made your cunt clench on him. “Oh so you would like that? I should have known you’d be a little cock-hungry slut. Can’t go a single day without my cock in you, is that it?”

“Mmhm…” You nodded, eyes suddenly a little teary but in the best way. You pushed your hips back against his again. He groaned and pressed a hand to your hip to stop your movements.

“If you keep going like that I’m gonna treat you like a little cocksleeve, got it? I’ll stuff you with enough cum to keep you full for weeks. You want that, baby?”

“God, yes,” your eyes rolled back at the thought of feeling even fuller than you were now.

“Then relax, my pretty slut, we’re just getting started.” Felix growled.

His hand slipped under you to press lightly against your tummy, the pressure pushing your g-spot effortlessly against the tip of his cock. He’d hardly have to aim at all like this. You let out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll fill you up ‘til your cute little cunt can’t handle it anymore. M’ cum is all yours.”

#felix smut #lee felix smut #yongbok smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #lee yongbok smut #felix lee smut #ellie writes #PHEW #an ask!#i got carried away with this one #meant to be like 10 paragraphs but its now liek five pages #i don;t have time for the other asks tonight but #i am getting to them #fuck felix is so hot #thank you so much for the ask

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yearning-for-autumn · 3 months

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Eris NSFW Alphabet

A/N: Ok, this is very self-indulgent...leave in the comments who you would like next! Also any other headcanons you have for Eris. I literally live for comments.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Eris loves aftercare because A. deep down he’s an exhausted mother hen and B. he’s touch starved. Basically it’s more for him than it is for you. Just let him fuss over you and he’ll be happy. After a particularly intense session, he has a deep need to know you are ok, that you feel safe and cared for. He can’t bear the thought of you not feeling like the princess you are, and if you ever experience subdrop he would absolutely panic and be very much not chill about it.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Eris is fond of his hands, he has long fingers (wink wink). He likes to compare his hands with yours to see the size difference.

On you, Eris is a tits guy through and through. He’s never really grown out of the teenage obsession, and thinks any and all boobs are great. Small boobs, perfect to hold. Big boobs, perfect to fuck. All boobs are good to suck on. I’m not going to say anything about Mummy issues but I’m sure you can catch my drift.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

On the subject of tits, Eris loves to cum on them. There’s something about claiming you with his seed that gets him worked up. Whenever he cums anywhere on your body you know you’re about to go for round two, he can’t help it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Eris has this fantasy of dressing you up in a collar and having you act like his little pet all day. He keeps this under wraps and probably always will unless you’re down to clown. But there’s something that gets him so worked up about the thought of having you down on all fours, a collar with a tag that says his name on it, lapping at his thighs for a taste of his cock whilst he coos, talking about how sweet you are, what a cute puppy…yeah…

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I think Eris is probably quite experienced. He had an adventurous youth, behind his fathers back of course, and he definitely knows how to fuck you right. When he’s finally free of his father though, and is able to have a proper relationship with someone he loves, I can imagine him getting nervous that he’s not experienced enough with anything long term, but this is his inner critic talking, I don’t think you would be complaining.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Eris wants you on your knees, whether that’s all-fours, on the floor, riding him, etc. He’s a big big fan of reverse cowgirl because he can watch his cock driving into you in exquisite detail, and he can pull out and paint the small of your back with his cum so easily.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Eris isn’t really a goofy guy, his humour is more dry and sarcastic which doesn’t translate great to sex. He tends to be pretty serious, and the only humour involved is one sided, with him amusing himself, degrading and teasing you (but let’s be honest, you love it).

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpet matches the drapes, 100 percent. He has a happy trail down his perfect v-line and keeps things well-groomed, he’s a male that values his appearance.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Eris doesn’t really go in for romance, he swings one of two ways, hard dom or super soft dom. Depending on his (and your) mood, he can be an arrogant, degrading ass, or sweet and gentle yet teasing. He’s very good at reading your mood and always knows exactly how to play things, this man is an expert in body language.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Eris prefers if you’re the one getting him off, honestly he would ask for a handjob everyday if he could (he probably does). But if either of you are away, he’s not exactly going to not masturbate to the memories of you, cock drunk and drooling as he fists your hair and takes you in his chair right in front of the window so all of Autumn can see.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

DDLG - When you’re both in a certain mood, I think Eris likes to baby you a lot. He wants to look after you, in the small things as well as during sex. He loves it when you act all shy and innocent, it only makes him want you more.

Innocence - More on that topic, I feel like Eris has a bit of a virginity kink. He would definitely want to be the one to take your virginity if possible, and if not don’t worry because he’s down to role-play.

Pet-play - Eris wants to own you. He wants a collar around your neck, and he wants you to obey his every command. He also thinks you look absolutely adorable with little puppy ears clipped into your hair, it makes him want to absolutely ruin you. Call him Master, better yet call him your King.

This is going to come up later as well, but I don’t think Eris would want to switch with anyone other than someone he was extremely comfortable with, so before you he would have never tried it. That being said, he does have a bit of a Mummy kink (yes im british sorry) and I think he would be down to explore this, but he’s definitely more comfortable in the dominant role.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Eris is a bit of a fan of public sex but only when you are involved. He doesn’t really want to put himself in a compromising position, but he’s more than happy to show you off. More than anything he wants people to see your submission to him, not necessarily sexual, but imagine sitting next to him in a meeting and all of a sudden you’re pulled onto his lap so that he can kiss your neck whilst listening to some boring courtier.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You. You get him going. Because he’s horny. No but he’s sooo turned on if you sink to your knees, bat your eyelashes, ask him if you can make him feel good. He’s so going to cum all over your face.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Eris likes to degrade you, but if he ever gets comfortable enough to sub for you he can and will cry if you try it. Don’t degrade him. His self-esteem is on the ground as it is, there’s no need for that.

He also doesn’t really want to do anything involving feet, I just have a silly headcanon that he really dislikes them. Like it’s bordering on a phobia for him. He hates seeing them. Who knows why, I definitely don’t and I just made it up.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This man can make shoving his cock in your mouth feel like he’s the one giving you a treat. Like is it really giving, no, but do you appreciate it, yes.

He is an all-star pussy eater though, he’ll probably eat you out quickly and efficiently as part of foreplay most days to make sure you are thoroughly soaked and open for him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Eris fucks rough. Let’s be real. He fucks with fire in his veins, I doubt that means slow and romantic. On your anniversary though, he’s going to light candles, and he’s going to drive you absolutely out of your mind, fucking you slow and hard, whispering praise and cruel teasing as he fucks you into the bed.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Eris loves a quickie honestly. Oh, he’s got a meeting at 10? Time for a quick fuck. Oh you’re late for work? But you have 15 minutes for a blowjob right?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He is down to experiment, I mean he’s quite kinky really and has experimented in the past, but he’ll be a bit nervous to scare you off or go too far when you’re early in your relationship. He has some trust issues he’s working through, but he really does want to try everything with you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Mmm Eris lasts a long time, and he wants to go multiple rounds. He just has so many positions he wants you in that he can’t just choose one, he has to try a few out right?

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Eris love love loves to dress you up, i’m talking collar, garters, lingerie. He’s very much into toys, for both of you, and thinks anything that enhances your pleasure is worth it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s a tease, he’s a degrading tease. ‘Aw baby you like that? Stupid slut, drooling around my cock, does my pretty baby want more? Hm? Well you’re not getting it.’

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

I think at first he would stick to dirty talk, and try not to moan too loudly. But after you express your interest he lets go completely. He’s feral, he’s loud and he doesn’t stop talking. You could probably cum from just his words to be honest, he has a filthy mouth.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I think the first time you ever try pegging Eris he cums literally immediately. He won’t let you bring it up ever, and he’s insanely embarrassed by it, but deep down he knows you only care about making him feel good and would never tease him in bad faith. It takes him a little while to try it again though, because our poor baby is repressed.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Eris has such a pretty cock. It curves upwards in just the right way, it’s the prettiest shade of pink at the tip and blushes deep red when he’s needy and desperate. He’s longer than he is thick, and it hits all the right spots.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Eris is a horny horny boy, but he’s quite good at hiding it. He tries his best not to overwhelm you with how much he wants you, but realistically you want him just as much, I mean how could you not.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Eris physically cannot fall asleep until you are asleep. He will fuss over you for as long as it takes, and no matter how much his eyes are drooping shut, he needs to know you are tucked up and comfy first.

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princessbrunette · 7 months

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kinktober : oct 16th

leon kennedy x vibrator

a smallish, rubbery, baby pink vibrator. with a suction feature, and 10+ speed and pulse settings. it fits in your purse, it fits inside of you, it fits in the palm of your boyfriends hand. you loved it, you really did — but really, it was leon’s pride and joy.

from spending so much time with you, leon had started to pick up on when you needed certain things. you often got restless and agitated by small things when you were hungry, you’d bite at the side of your finger when there was something on your mind that you weren’t telling him, you’d smile with a certain twinkle in your eye when you wanted something from him — but his favourite and most challenging moments, was being able to tell when you needed to just let go.

sometimes, you’d have a particularly hard day at work. you’d be more teary and quiet than usual upon arriving home, and when you’re ready he’d let you rant and cry it out into his chest. it was like clockwork, and once he’d supported you emotionally, he knew you needed something to make your brain totally black out and forget the day you had, and that’s where the vibrator came in handy.

to the surprise of many, leon wasn’t actually that big on punishments unless you really deserved them — so whilst it might be assumed overstimulating you with a toy would be used for the purpose of reforming a bad attitude or breaking a rule, leon preferred to use it as a reward. a reward for being so brave at work as he’d tell you — enough so, that now he would allow you to forget everything you know until all the negative feelings had vanished.

so that’s how he’d have you, and your only grip on reality would be focusing on sound. your back was to his chest, head resting against his shoulder, his own legs caging your spread thighs with a thick forearm across your stomach holding you to him as he presses the toy against you. you can hear his deep and low breathing in your ear, you can hear the obscene wet clicking noises made by your cunt each time he shifts the vibrator through your folds, you can hear the relentless and incessant buzzing from the toy itself, a lone thought swimming around the back of your brain questioning the durability of its battery life, and loudly — you can hear the uncontrollable noises coming from yourself.

your moans were broken, whiny and bordering on pathetic. your brain was mush by this point, so coherent sentences were something of a distant memory as he pressed the buzzing toy against your abused clit. you poor thing, begging for something and you weren’t even sure what for anymore. it’s a good thing leon was there to look after you. “does that feel good baby?” he has the audacity to coo, pressing a kiss to your cheekbone— god he’s sick.

you try to respond, but it proves impossible, only managing something akin to ‘mhm’ which is good enough for him. “i’d say i’m pretty good at this, isn’t that right? knowing what my girl needs. knowing when that pretty pussy needs to cum.” he soothes and you claw at his thick, strong wrist weakly, feeling yourself near yet another orgasm as your clit pulses painfully.

“another one? alright sweetheart, let’s hear it.” he purs, continuing the repetitive movements around your clit with the toy until you’re squealing, tensing up and completely blacking out as you feel yourself gushing.

“take what you need, i’m right here.” he calms you as you ride it out. leon was right, as always. he did infact always know what you needed.

added extras: there’s times where you get needy, and just wanna play with your exhausted boyfriend after he returns from work— you being all hyper and giddy as he lounges back on the couch. he lets you play with his cock, dragging your vibrator over his wet, pink mushroom tip, staring up at him with glassy eyes eager to please as he tips his head back, casually spreading his thighs with a groan. “fuck, you’re good at that baby. didn’t know it would feel so good, damn.” he strains out, and you can’t help but place a kiss to his tip as you run the vibrator down his shaft. “j’st wanna look after you, like you do for me.” you hum, and he runs a hand over your head appreciatively.

“my girls too sweet.”

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon re smut #resident evil smut #leon smut #leon kennedy drabble #kinktober 2023

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ceruleancattail · 6 months

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Worries

Yandere Guardian Angel Azul x reader

Tw: yandere, Manipulation, Azul does your bills for you-

Azul worries.

To be fair, it’s rare for him to relax. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the tension leave his shoulders… fully, at least. Mist grey eyes sharper then any blade, barely concealed behind those silver glasses of his.

The biggest, most amiable smile could be dancing merrily on his lips, but his gaze would remain cold. Not an instant blast of the winter’s air. At least that would hit you once, hard and fast.

The chill of his stare crept slowly across your skin, lapping at your ankles like the ocean’s waters rocking gently into the sandy shore. A pleasant sensation, rocking you back and forth mildly. Lulled gently by those soothing waves, you step forward, only to be slowly submerged within the Sea’s embrace.

The cold slowly gnaws at you, sinking deep into your flesh, the bitter chill gnawing at your bones. A dull, throbbing pain that left every limb trembling. Like a mast of a ship, lost. Tossing and turning within the merciless waves of a thundering storm.

As an angel, he has the divine right to interfere. In a way, it made things a little simpler as compared to now. Azul could keep you from harm with just a simple flick of his little finger.

The car speeding towards you? Suddenly twisted out of the way, slamming into a weatherbeaten old lamppost instead.

A lift just about to break? Its doors slam shut before you could even enter.

Financial trouble? Well, he’ll just have some… generosity come your way.

Azul supposed those little infringements added to the severeness of his banishment. He was pulling too many strings just for one soul. It started as a whim at first, in all honesty.

Azul just wanted to protect you. That was his job. It was what he was supposed to do.

He doesn’t know when exactly did he fall for that smile of yours. It was illuminating, with all the gentle radiance of the silver moon. Every move you took, was like watching the moonlight bounce off the ocean waters, sparkling shyly against the pitch black night.

Before he knew it, he was falling. Crashing onto the ground like some featherless bird, lacking any sort of dignity howsoever. Not the best first impression, but you still took him in.

How generous of you, love.

Azul isn’t one to let a debt go unpaid. Especially one he owes you. It’s ironic really, how he was the one who was supposed to help you, not the other way around. Although Azul can’t really say he doesn’t like the attention you give him, gently dabbing medication against his crumbling wings.

He likes it. A little too much. After all, Azul’s spent so long up in those clouds, giving you all of his attention… doesn’t he deserve the same from you?

He’s not particularly keen of sharing his pearl, not when he’s finally right by your side, where he belongs. Slowly, Azul sinks his fingers into your life. Picking and choosing the company you keep, tugging at strings here and there to keep those unsavoury presences away from you.

His arm around your shoulder or your waist at all times, squeezing a little harder then what was considered normal. If you ever bring it up, Azul just moans about how weakened he was, after being casted down. You wouldn’t be as cruel as to leave him all alone, would you?

You tell him it’s fine. He could lean on you as much as he wanted.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.

After all, Azul worries so much about you. Mortals live such taxing lives, it’s astounding. Why don’t you let him help out? Azul has nothing to do, all alone at home after all. He can help you with sorting through administrative matters.

It starts with just that. Slowly, Azul takes over your financials, bit by bit. He has everything in the palm of his hand, absolute control over everything in your name. Soon, you’re the one coming to him for help, just the way it should be.

Being mortal has its perks. He no longer had to hold himself to the golden rules that all angels hold dear. Truth to be told? He’s always thought that those words were a bunch of self-righteous bullshit.

Constraining, binding. No better then steel-forged chains, keeping him from you. How cruel of them, right, darling?

He wants you. He needs you. Azul loves you.

This desire gradually builds up, showing itself with slow, calculated moves. He’s careful, painstakingly so. Manoeuvring you like a sole piece on a chessboard, making you dance like a mere puppet in his hands. Knocking over every other piece standing, until only you remained.

Fear not, love. Azul will guide you. It is his duty, as your Guardian Angel, after all.

Azul plays the long game, eyes fixed on the final outcome. Only when you’re standing on that checkered chessboard all alone, then you realise what he’s done. By then, it’s too late.

You’ve drowned in his affections, forever caged within the palm of his hand.

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vinsmokc-sanji · 5 months

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“I can teach you if you’d like”.

Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader

Summary: Sanji finds out you've never been kissed and he's a very eager teacher;

Word count: 1.6K;

Rating/Content Warnings: PG-13; AFAB reader, cigarettes, alcohol consumption;

Author's note: Ok, so... this might turn into a series with Y/N asking Sanji to teach her his ways. I'll see how I'll feel about it, but please: give me your feedback!

“I cannot believe that, Y/N!” said Sanji in a mocking tone, while ducking a punch that would’ve hit him square in the jaw if you two weren’t sharing a bottle of wine while on the crow’s nest as that was the only place that seemed to be away from Zeff’s eyes and gave the both of you at least a little sense of . “I cannot believe you’ve never kissed anyone!”.

“Shut up, you jerk! Not everyone is a whore like you” you replied through gritted teeth. Being the only girl at the Baratie, you dealt with more than your fair share of thirsty boys (and men), so no, you never had that sort of interaction before as overall the amount of attention you normally get was off putting. But of course, that’s what happened when Zeff wasn’t around; if he even though one of the guys was crossing a line, he wouldn’t hesitate to kick someone off the boat in a heartbeat. That little nugget of information about yourself was something that you’d never voluntarily tell, especially to Sanji, but the little wine you had before made your tongue looser than normal.

“And not everyone is a prude like you” the blond replied with shrugged shoulders; unlike you, Sanji tried his way with literally every single female humanoid he laid his eyes upon.

You frowned. “I’m not a prude, I just… got overwhelmed by you guys annoying me all the time. And now I’m too self-conscious of being bad at it, or awkward, or gross, or something like that, so I guess I’ll just never do it and die an old maid” you said dramatically, sliding down the wall in the way only a dramatic woman in her early twenties could. Sanji snorted and sat down by your side while precariously holding the bottle in one hand and placed his free hand on the top of your head. “C’mon Y/N. I’m giving you a hard time but it’s not that big of a deal”.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, forcing Sanji to remove his hand; “Yeah, sure, it isn’t. Guys don’t even want to sleep with a girl if she’s a virgin as they don’t want responsibility, let alone deal with someone like me. No one wants to deal with this sort of baggage… and it’s fine, really. It doesn’t bother me”.

It was very clear that it did, in fact, bother you.

“I can teach you if you’d like”.

Sanji took a deep breath; the fact that he had a major crush wasn’t a secret to anyone at the restaurant and the wine you had shared was making him a bit bolder than usual.

Of course, he flirted with you every chance he had; but Sanji was highly aware of the line he couldn’t cross and that you mostly saw it as playful banter instead of actual flirting. Both of you had your dreams; you wanted to take over the Baratie when Zeff decided to retire, Sanji still nurtured his wishes for the All Blue and neither of you were going to allow anything to get in the way and you were so focused on your own goals that you were constantly pushing yourself too hard to the point of exhaustion and getting an earful from Zeff after a handful of particularly hard episodes.

The blond had a shaking smile on his lips; enough to claim he was joking if you were offended, but your big doe eyes looked up at him in an unexpectedly eager way. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?” you asked, clinging on his sleeve as you shifted your position, now kneeling on the ground and staring at Sanji; “Please?”

Sanji felt his heart stop for a second, as he’d never imagined this situation: you, on your knees, asking for him to touch you. As much as he wanted this, he didn’t feel like that would be the best option given that you were both slightly drunk (and the romantic in him didn’t want your first kiss to be a sloppy drunk make out). Sanji knew that the jerk side of him would be kicking himself in the morning, but he just couldn’t do it.

“Sorry kitten, no way. I guess that’s the wine talking… talk to me in the morning and let me know if you’re still up for it, ok? For now, I think it’s best if we went to our individual beds, by ourselves”.

You were now pouting and whining, but still managed to get yourself up from the floor and leave back to your room, still pouting and dragging your feet. Sanji stayed out there for a little longer, trying his hardest not to chase after you, smoking one cigarette after the other.

***

The next morning, Sanji was a bit afraid of how things would go with you — he guessed you’d be embarrassed and avoid him, but you were just your regular self: sassy, animated, cheeky and efficient in the kitchen. Even though his mind kept going back to the crow’s nest situation, Sanji managed to keep his cool and muffle his frustration. As much as he hated to admit, he wanted you to remember last night. He wanted you to, again, beg and pout and whine wanting his lips on yours.

But he still thought that turning you down was the best option for both of you.

The Baratie had a regular day — as regular as a day in the Baratie can be. Sanji kept a close eye on you, but it was like last night had never happened. He tried not to let the bitterness get to him, but he was a little disappointed and upset; as soon as he could, Sanji escaped from the kitchen and climbed to the crow’s nest by himself so he could light up another cigarette and overthink.

Sanji was so lost in thought he didn’t hear you creeping from behind him and almost dropped his cigarette when he felt you tapping his shoulder. You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his over reaction, ignoring the indignant look Sanji was shooting at you. “What? What is it that you want, Y/N, that’s so important for you to nearly kill me?” Sanji had absolutely no bark behind his words, and you knew that.

“Is your proposal still on?”

Again, his heart stopped; he couldn’t feel his hands shaking slightly, and his whole face felt like it was burning. “Wha-what proposal?” Sanji asked, hoping to gain time and composure. “Don’t play with me, little eggplant. You know what I’m talking about” your pink ears and the fact that you were not able to keep eye contact assured Sanji that you were being serious.

“You mean it?”

“I mean… yeah. I came out here looking for you, didn’t I? It’s better if it's with you and not some random guy…” You looked embarrassed, avoiding Sanji’s gaze and fidgeting with your fingers; Sanji couldn’t help but feel his heart swelling by how endearing you looked right now. Without even realizing what he was doing, Sanji tossed his cigarette to the side and closed the distance between the both of you, grabbing your face with both of his hands and forcing you to look up to him. “Then I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me you really want it, Y/N”.

“Please, Sanji… Kiss me?”

Sanji hesitated for a split second before lowering his lips to meet yours; he could feel your trembling breath fanning his face, count every single eyelash that adorned your eyes and he could feel your perfume in such a way that he felt like he was drunk all over again — vanilla, almost like he was inside of a bakery.

When your lips touched, Sanji felt himself melting and he felt dizzy; his head was spinning and his stomach was exploding with butterflies, his heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest and his fingertips were trembling on your cheeks. You were hesitant, taking you a few seconds before shyly embracing Sanji’s neck with your arms, pulling him closer.

Instinctively Sanji’s hand made their way to your waist, feeling the warmth of your skin under the thin blouse you were wearing. He had to make a conscious effort to not cross any boundaries as he didn’t want to scare you or cross a line, but it was hard to keep himself grounded when he started hearing the little content noises that were coming out from the back of your throat.

When you feel Sanji’s tongue touching your lips, your knees stop functioning for a moment and Sanji has to hold you tight so you won’t fall. His confidence and cockyness kicked in, and Sanji quickly had you pressed against the half-wall of the crow’s nest, his hands now seemingly all over you: your neck, your hair, your face, your waist; your head was spinning and now you had your hands tangled into Sanji’s hair, you could taste the cigarette he was having and that mixed with the expensive cologne he always wore made you feel like you were having a fever dream. You could feel yourself getting hotter by the second, and it felt like Sanji weren’t close enough to you.

Reluctantly, Sanji holds your face with both his hands and pulls away; he needs to take a deep breath and regain his composure. You whine, trying to pull him back so you can kiss him again, but Sanji merely kisses your forehead and brings you into a hug, tucking your head under his chin.

“There you go, princess. That was your first lesson”.

#one piece #fanfic #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #opla sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n

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chaoticace2005 · 2 months

Text

Random short of Alastor’s shadow being done with his shit and becoming friends with our favorite losers. ( @xxqueenofdragonsxx @downthegenderriver )

Shadowstor was tired.

So tired.

Contrary to popular belief shadows COULD get tired. And Shadowstor was aware of that early on.

Okay… to be fair most shadows probably can’t get tired. Because most shadows can’t feel.

But Shadowstor was an exception. Because the very reason for it’s exhaustion is the same reason it can think to begin with.

Alastor.

Not the Radio Demon. Because Alastor himself isn’t the Radio Demon, no. Shadowstor helped with that. Helped more than it gets credit for (which is virtually none because of how Alastor likes to posture himself.)

And that’s fine, really. Shadowstor is a shadow for fucks sake. It isn’t made for being directly in the spotlight. Alastor is and Shadowstor fades into the background, being obscured with the focus on it’s counterpart.

The thing that does get Shadowstor exhausted though is the fact that Alastor has the tendency of being an impulsive idiot.

Now, don’t get Shadowstor wrong, Alastor is definitely a large part of why the Radio Demon has a reputation as an unhinged, powerful, scary individual. Shadowstor helped with the powers though, but really it thinks its greatest contribution was the fact that this means the Radio Demon now has some semblance of impulse control.

Alastor may not listen to anyone. But it’s usually kind of hard not to hear out a literal manifestation and source of your powers.

Usually. Because Alastor will still start a fight with pretty much anyone. He’ll go on the air and mock Vox for his crush. He’ll say ducks are an overrated animal right in front of Lucifer. He’ll 1v1 the literally first man. He’ll call Susan’s blouse tacky.

And all Shadowstor can usually do is sit back and watch. Because it’s bound to help Alastor. Bound to be part of the Radio Demon. But that doesn’t stop it from being exhausted every single time Al does start something.

One thing though about being tied to Alastor is you get to know others who are tied to Alastor. Others who are equally exhausted by Alastor.

Husk.

The Bar Cat was one being Shadowstor could relate to on a deep level. Because Shadowstor has to put up with the ineptness of Alastor. But Husk has to put up with the ineptness of Alastor and everyone else.

It’s because of this when Alastor is sleeping (which, despite Angel Dust’s verbal doubts on the matter does happen, Alastor isn’t an all powerful being, despite how much he pretends to be,) Shadowstor sometimes will go out, going downstairs to the bar that is usually only occupied by the Cat-Demon waiting from his not-boyfriend to come home.

(Sexual and romantic feelings are so weird. Relationships are so weird and Shadowstor is glad it doesn’t have to deal with that.)

After a particularly tiring day of Alastor trying to break into the Vees tower and destroy Vox’s body pillow of him, Shadowstor was exhausted. It had pretty much given up on trying where Vox was involved, because Alastor seemed to get particular joy out of taunting the TV, but it still felt like it had to try. At this point it was a matter of principle. It had fought with Alastor on this for years and it was not stopping to just let him win.

“Oh, my dear, you worry too much.” He said to Shadowstor before merging with it into the shadows and traveling across the city.

Fifteen minutes later Shadowstor had to rush them out if there because Vox had installed a shark filled moat around his office. Which Shadowstor had seen but Alastor walked right into. Because apparently “radio demon” powers extend to wresting sharks in the water (it does NOT.)

So now Alastor was asleep after pretending he had totally-not-been chewed up by some demon-sharks. And Shadowstor went downstairs to the bar.

“You too, huh?” Husk said to it, seeming to notice right when the shadow crossed with threshold. Working with the Radio Demon for years would get a person skilled at picking up changes in shadows quickly.

Shadowstor just nodded and slumped against the wall, putting its hands to its head.

The winged cat nodded in agreement, “I’ll drink to that.” He said as he took a half-full whiskey bottle and chugged it.

Shadowstor wished it could drink.

“What was it this time? Lucifer’s ducks again?”

The shadow shook its head and flat, vertically-aligned hand on top of it, making the sign for “shark.”

“Oh. Vox. Do I even want to know?”

Shadowstor shook its head again because no, Husk really didn’t. It doesn’t even want to start to think about the Alastor-Body-Pillow. Or the Alastor shrine. Or the Alastor fanfiction it found (which Vox should be lucky that Alastor didn’t find that because otherwise there’d be another broken TV screen in this hotel.)

Right then a beaten up pink spider burst through the hotel doors, going right to a stool in the bar and crashing onto it.

“Tough night?” Husk asked, already handing his not-boyfriend a drink that had been prepared even before Shadowstor arrived.

“You know it. Fuckin’ Val.”

Husk made a sound to show he was listening.

“Apparently Vox was pissed today. So that meant Val was pissed today.”

Oh… oops?

Okay, to be fair, if Vox is pissed at Alastor that isn’t really Shadowstor’s fault. It tried to stop him.

The shadow made a face palm again at its counterpart’s need to harass every single person he came into contact with.

“Wha- Smiles?”

Alastor’s here?! Wait… no he isn’t. Cause Shadowstor is here. And Shadowstor would know if Al woke up.

Oh… the spider demon is staring right at it.

Shadowstor shook its head, a bit annoyed at the idea of being confused with that impulsive buffoon.

“Huh? Husk, what—“

“That’s Alastor’s shadow.”

Shadowstor waved.

“Alastor’s what?”

“Shadow? You know? The thing that goes around with him. Helps with his powers. I’m sure he’s manifested it in front of you before.”

“Oh… yeah. So it’s just… here? Where’s Al?”

Shadowstor made the sign for sleeping.

“Sleeping.” Husk translated.

“What? How?!”

“His shadow can leave when Alastor isn’t conscious or controlling it.”

“No. I mean how did you get that from that?!” Angel says as he motions back over to Shadowstor which… rude.

“I know sign language.”

“You know WHAT?!”

“Sign language.”

“Jesus Whiskers, how many languages do you know?”

“Well there’s Russian, Spanish—“

“Wait. No. Back to the point. Alastor’s shadow just comes down here sometimes and talk to you?”

“…yeah?”

“About what?”

Shadowstor just makes one sign with as much as exhaustion as it can.

“Alastor.”

“Al— wait,” Angel laughs, “even Smiles’ shadow has a problem with him?!”

Shadowstor starts signing to explain the exact issue it faces with Alastor, Husk working to translate while Angel just nods in response.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe a fucking shadow has some oftha same shitty boss troubles as me.”

Shadowstor gives a shake and growl at that. Because Alastor isn’t it’s boss. It can see Husk about to translate before Angel cuts in.

“Oh… not your boss.”

Shadowstor nods.

“…so you’re like… you’re own person?”

Shadowstor shrugs because who knows. It wasn’t sentient before Alastor but it sure as hell is now.

“… you got a name?”

And Shadowstor pauses because no. It’s just Alastor’s shadow. For as long as it’s been around it’s never had a name. Alastor never deemed that necessary.

“Husk? Does it?” Angel asks when Shadowstor won’t answer which- hey it’s still right here. It can talk for itself. Or respond anyways.

“I don’t… think so?”

Angel turns back to Shadowstor.

“Do ya want one? Like… if you’re separate from Alastor shouldn’t you have a name that isn’t just ‘his shadow.’”

The shadow thinks for a second before slowly nodding, intrigued by this novel idea.

“What about… Tom?”

Tom?

“Tom?” Husk asks.

“Fuck. Fine, what about… Dusk? Cause y’a know shadows and darkness and stuff…”

Dusk… Dusk… it likes that.

Dusk nods and it can see the spider demon smile.

“Sweet. Nice ta meetya Duskie- oh wait. Duskie… Husky! Aw ya rhyme!”

Dusk can see Husk roll his eyes, and that just makes it even more comfortable in its decision.

—Later—

“So, you’re only able to really move around at night? When Al is asleep?”

Dusk nods.

“…Husk, what do you think Lucifer and Vox would say about moving our ‘Fuck Alastor’ meetings to nighttime?”

Oh. Oh Dusk likes this one.

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kikyo-bnha-imagines · 8 months

Text

Kissing headcanons for the BNHA boys (Pt.1)

Izuku:

Kisses with Izuku are gentle, soft, and timid

He’s a bit hesitant when he initiates, and he does it while sporting a massive blush nearly every single time

He likes to squeeze your hand while he kisses you. It grounds him and makes the whole act feel that much more intimate

As much as he adores kissing you on the lips, he really likes cheek kisses and little pecks on the forehead too

He does get a bit embarrassed when it comes to PDA, but he loves you, and it makes him happy knowing that someone will openly express their affection for him. Still, try not to push him too hard in public, because there's a good chance he will faint

Katsuki:

The first kiss you ever shared was quite soft and tentative, but that was mostly because your relationship was in its early stages, and you were both testing the waters

Once you and Katsuki are going strong, he won’t hold back when it comes to kissing you, and you can expect to have him pull you into his arms and slam his lips against yours seemingly without warning

Unlike Izuku, he could care less about PDA. In fact, he loves having the chance to show you off in front of everyone. He’ll smother you with kisses no matter who’s watching, and if he’s feeling particularly cocky, he’ll make sure to grin smugly after the fact

Katsuki isn’t very good with using his words to show that he cares, so physical intimacy is how he makes up for it

He prefers to kiss you on the lips, passionately, but when he’s in an especially intimate mood, he’ll hold you close and kiss the back of your hand, while blushing and telling you how much he loves you (in a quiet voice, because he’s embarrassed)

Shouto:

Kisses with Shouto are almost never quick. Kissing you is a thoughtful, deliberate act, and he likes to take his time and let his lips linger against yours

He’ll cradle your cheek with his hand, make a big show of staring warmly into your eyes, then bring his lips to yours and meet you in a deep, slow kiss

Because of his upbringing, he worries that he doesn’t possess the capacity to express how much he loves his significant other, but at his core, Shouto is a kind, compassionate person. He cherishes you, and you know that the way he kisses you is yet another way for him to show it

He doesn’t mind PDA at all. It takes a lot to be able to embarrass him, mostly since he can be a bit innocent and naïve at times. He will gladly kiss you in front of other people, but that being said, he still has some self-awareness and won’t just start a full-blown make-out session and risk making other people uncomfortable (unlike Katsuki, who definitely will)

Shouto likes kissing you on the lips the most, but he finds that squeezing you and gently kissing your eyelids when they’re shut is a rather intimate act. He also enjoys having the same done to him, while he’s resting his head on your shoulder or your lap

#bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha #mha #my hero academia #my hero academia imagines #bakugou x reader #midoriya x reader #todoroki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #boku no hero imagines #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #bnha fanfiction #fluff

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personasintro · 1 year

Text

pairing: mh!taehyung x reader

genre: smut

warnings: oral sex (f. and m.), protected sex, some dirty talk, explicit language (as usual lol)

word count: 1.6k+

a/n: merry christmas & happy holidays! 🎄 I came up with another spontaneous idea of showing you some more of mh universe, taehyung particularly! this is just a short and fun drabble to show you a little throwback of his. this is not the original mh y/n !!! please enjoy and I’d be very happy to hear your thoughts!

“I—fuck, I only came here to fuck.”

He has to clear that out before this gets any further. He usually does before it gets to this point but somehow, there hasn’t been time to clarify. One minute he was dancing rather inappropriately with a pretty hot woman and the next she pulled him to one of the VIP rooms.

Now he’s standing with his pants down, his hard cock pulled out. While he’s trying to grasp the remains of his almost non-existent chivalry, he’s having a hard time to fully immerse himself in pleasure.

You pull his thick cock out of your mouth with a pop, shooting him a look of cheekiness from your position on your knees. “Me too.”

Thank God, Taehyung mentally sighs in relief. Not that he thought the opposite. After all, you were the one pulling him out of the dance floor (not that he’s complaining). He wants this just as much as you do. But still, he’s straightforward and honest with any potential hookups. While it’s not always hundredth percent received on the other end, he wants to do everything he can to prevent the woman from cursing him out or accuse him of leading on. Most of them always want more. Even when he’s honest with them.

But well… It's not like he can do much other than be honest from the beginning.

As you take his cock into his mouth again, he curses silently under his breath and stares at the sight below him. Fuck.

“I don’t date. This is just sex.” He finds himself saying, mind already hazy from the pleasure your mouth delivers.

Pulling off his cock again, you continue to pump him slowly as you let out a chuckle. “Same for me.”

That’s exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Great. Now get your pretty ass to the couch.”

He doesn’t fail to notice the sparkle of excitement that crosses over your features. You obey, getting yourself to your feet and balancing them in your heels. Getting your ass to the couch, Taehyung watches you the entire time and the way your dress got rolled up from your previous position.

You sit like a good girl, causing him to walk up to you. Pumping his cock a few times, you eye him hungrily. Well, he doesn’t have the entire night. Jimin is somewhere out there too, most likely getting his cock sucked as well but they promised to go home together. Taehyung doesn’t feel like bringing anyone to his place and this seemed like a good idea.

But he could do with a little foreplay either way. Jimin would surely understand if he might be late.

“Suck me off.”

You don’t need much. Taehyung’s deep voice and dark eyes often do the thing and before he knows it, you take him into your mouth again.

“Fuck, that’s good.” Taehyung moans, allowing his head to tilt back while you try to fit all of him into your mouth.

He grabs the back of your head, not thrusting into your throat as much as he wants to. He gives you time, not shocked by the little gag you make when his tip touches the back of your throat. But you take him like a good girl, letting him use your throat as he slowly starts to thrust.

“Shit, you’re taking me so well.”

Taehyung often lets his dirty mouth run wild. He says some of the things automatically but getting your cock sucked on Friday night makes things spill out of your mouth. It feels good. Taehyung is many things but being a liar isn’t one of them. Not when it comes to sex.

He continues to fuck your mouth, gripping the back of your head before he stops you and pulls out.

Despite your submissive position, there’s lust and excitement all over your face as you eagerly await his next words.

But they don’t come. Instead he drops to his knees in front of you, his smirk mirroring his as he spreads your legs with no other words. He doesn’t bother pulling down your ridiculous attempt of thong that barely covers you. Simply moving it to the side, he gets to work and presses his mouth to your core.

“Holy shit.”

He hears you, his mouth stretching to a smirk which you can totally feel. Usually he doesn’t waste too much time with oral sex. Not that he minds performing it but it’s not something that happens every time. But it’s only fair of him to do that since you’ve spent the last five minutes sucking him off.

He flicks his tongue against your clit, using his fingers to stretch your wet walls as your own arousal drips down your tight hole. Within the next three minutes, he has you cumming down on his tongue as he laps at your cum. He has you moaning, gripping his hair in pure ecstasy as you ache for him even more.

Pulling out a condom from his back pocket, he motions for you to turn around. You understand him immediately, getting on all four as your hands grip the top of the headrest.

“Ready?” he asks, giving himself a few testing pumps just to be sure. The last thing he needs is condom breaking.

That’s why he’s always prepared and carries condoms with him. Once he somehow ran out of them, just managed to get a hook-up when he wasn’t even planning it. The woman had the wrong size of condom and he thought he might cry. Sounds a bit dramatic but yeah, with a hard cock and no action things get intense and emotional.

The moment he sinks inside your awaiting hole, you both curse under your breaths.

When you mumble something about his size and how big he is (and he swears he hears you breathing through the entire time he’s pushing in) it definitely strokes his already big ego. Well, at least he’s aware of his gift from God down there.

“You want a minute?” he asks, fully nestled inside you as you exhale before giving him a weak nod.

He waits, massaging your ass as he feels you clench around him shortly after. He makes sure to ask you if he can continue and when he gets the green light, there’s nothing stopping him now. In the span of a few seconds, he starts fucking you fast and rough, just like he thinks you like. You’re definitely not the typical innocent type of woman. He might not know you, fuck, he’s not even sure if he remembers your name correctly but — he has a good eye for women like you.

The wild ones.

The female version of himself.

You weren’t secretive about looking for a hook-up either. He wasn’t in the mood anyway but then Jimin disappeared somewhere and he was left alone at the bar. Until you came.

One thing led to another and his previous plans changed. He ended up wanting to have sex tonight. It’s been a stressful week at work anyway.

You clutch to the couch desperately, whining and moaning while he slaps your ass, the sounds of your bodies colliding filling up the room.

“Look at this cunt. Wet and tight.” he grits through his teeth, delivering another slap to your ass which has you gasping for air.

Taehyung chuckles, deeply and audibly to your ears. “You like that?”

You moan.

“You like your ass getting spanked?”

“Ah, fuck, yes.”

“Such a perfect slut.”

That gets you even tighter, your walls clenching even more which makes Taehyung smirk at the response. He knew you were dirty.

Just what he likes.

“Fuck.” he growls, tilting his head back as he keeps thrusting.

His fingers digs into your asscheeks before one of his hands grabs the back of your neck. He squeezes, holding you in place since his rough thrusts has you all over the place.

“Shit, shit, shit. I’m coming!”

The moment you start clenching around him, squeezing him tight, he growls and picks up the pace. When your orgasm is gone and you’re left panting, he pulls out. Understanding perfectly what he wants, you sit in your previous position. Dress all messed up and exposing one of your breasts along with your nipple, Taehyung mentally groans at the sight. He pulls out the condom, tossing it on the floor carelessly as you stick your tongue. He jerks himself off, fast and furiously as he’s on the edge. A minute later and the first spurs of his cum paints your tongue and chin. Some of it shoots up your nose while he’s trying to aim as best as he can. He doesn’t want it to get it into your eyes and ruin your pretty make-up.

He pumps the last remains of his thick cum, your mouth closing as you swallow it. He shoots you a smirk, pulling up his pants along with his boxers as he tucks himself.

You adjust your dress, wiping his cum with your finger before pulling it back to your mouth. Standing up, you go to the nearest mirror to check your appearance.

“This was fun.” you comment, turning to him just to find him giving you an amused grin.

“Indeed.” he agrees, the two of you sharing a look of joy from having your needs met.

He salutes you a goodbye, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. Both of you go different ways but not before he holds the door for you. Shooting him one last wink, Taehyung chuckles before going down the stairs. Soon enough he finds an impatient Jimin with his arms outstretched in a questionable manner.

“Where have you been?”

“Last minute fuck.”

“And here I thought I’m the only one getting my dick wet tonight.” Jimin muses, adjusting Taehyung’s shirt for him.

The younger pats his shoulder before saying; “Not tonight, Jimin-ah.”

The two of them get out of the club with boyish grins, getting to their awaiting cab.

#networkbangtan #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #bts smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #bts au #taehyung fic #personasintro

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seancekitsch · 6 months

Text

Is it Casual Now? : An Adrian Chase x Reader Kinktober fic

warnings: blood kink, this is messy, fingering, smut, fwb adrian, slight mask kink

“What happened to casual?” you pant, breathless as you struggle to stay standing upright.

“Oh, fuck casual!” Adrian exclaims, the mask muffling his voice, “Who cares about casual when you look so stunning like this?”

His glove comes up to your cheek to smear more blood against your face, and then he lightly slaps you cheek, teasing you. Your lips peel open with laughter as you scrunch your nose at him, narrowing your eyes at the red visor.

His ungloved hand moves deeper, two fingers pushed into you all the way to the knuckle, his wrist pulsing to his own rhythm. Your lip curls up into a silent groan, and you don’t dare break what you think is probably eye contact with Adrian. He’s testing you. He’s just waiting for you to crack. The second you give in and moan or close your eyes he’s gonna throw you around like a rag doll or something; Which, isn’t terrible… but thats not how this started.

When you first accepted a ride home from headquarters from Adrian you didn't expect him to walk you into your apartment and kiss you like a man starved. Then it turned into a regular thing, quiet moments, little kisses and hookups that you both agreed were casual and low key. Or so you thought.

You don’t dare close your eyes, but you do shift your gaze over his shoulder for a moment. Your eyes settle on the door, ajar and doing a piss poor job of giving either of you privacy from the others.

“You look so pretty like this,” He says, thrusting his fingers particularly hard to get you to fold, “Maybe I should chop a guy in half in front of you more often.”

Your eyes move back to his, widening at his lack of care.

“Be quiet,” you hiss, nodding your head towards the door.

It’s taking literally everything in you not to moan honestly. His fingers are working you open so well, and of course it helped that you were already soaked because Adrian saved your ass out there. His middle and ring finger are deep, and you know he can feel you clenching down on them; he can feel exactly what he’s doing to you. Between you, you can hear the sounds of yourself and your pleasure, Fuck, you must seem so pathetic.

“But you like this,” Adrian whispers, and his head falls against yours, his body presses you against the wall.

“Fuck,” you pant, your own words escaping you.

“What if I…?” he asks, his hips jolting against yours, leather and canvas on leather and canvas. Friction. You nod at him fervently. Yes, yes anything. Everything Adrian. Everything Vigilante.

Adrian does you the either courtesy or mercy of pushing you further away from the door across the wall, until your hip is pressed into the sink bowl of the bathroom. His free hand slides away from your face, down your body and making sure to feel all of you on the way down. His hand takes down the front of your top, smearing the setting stains across your chest and abdomen. He only breaks contact from you to reach for the buckle of his tactical belt, clunky and loud. There’s no way the others don’t know what’s going on, but if they say anything you don’t hear it.

“So fucking pretty all covered in blood,” Adrian mutters as he pulls himself from his pants, hard and wanting.

“You’re such a pervert,” you sigh, mouth falling open at the sight of him already leaking. His hands are back on you and pushing you roughly, turning you around to face the mirror. His hands find their way to your pants as well.

“Guess that makes me your pervert, huh?”

If you could see his face right now you’re sure he’d have a stupid big grin on it, but all you get is the cold unfeeling red visor.

He pulls your pants down only as far as they need to go, only to your thighs, and lines himself up easily. For a brief second, his whole demeanor softens. Through the mask, he places a kiss on your clothed shoulder. Then he pushes into you until his hips bottom out against your ass. It takes everything in you not to moan, a shuddered gasp all that you let slip.

He pulls out almost completely, and then back in again. A challenge, you realize as you steady yourself against the sink, pushing your ass back against him.

“Wanna see what you look like covered in other body fluids,” he remarks, ungloved hand reaching back down to your clit. Fuck, it feels good.

“Gross,” you reply, and Adrian chuckles from behind the mask.

“Hey!” He says, again too loudly, his gloved hand squeezing your hip.

“If it’s so gross why are you so wet for me?” he asks, at least a little quieter this time. Well, he’s got you there. You don’t have an excuse for that. You just glare at him through the mirror and lean into his touch even more, letting him have that little win. He speeds up, still pulling almost completely out of you before slamming back in, brutal as the force jolts your hips in his grasp. His fingers on your clit speed up their pace, Adrian clearly eager to watch you lose your composure. Your knees wobble, arms on the sink threatening to buckle. Fuck, he’s good at this, you think as you bite your lip, trying not to let him know how good he really is.

“C’mon don’t be shy, I know you love when I do this,” Adrian teases, leaning more of his weight against you, smearing the blood covering him against the back of your shirt. He removes his mask with a quick tug to the crown of his head, curls falling out from where they were compressed.

“Our friends are out there,” you remind him, but it’s clear Adrian doesn’t really care. Any discretion of your little arrangement can be kissed goodbye at this point.

He switches his motions with his fingers on your clit, clockwise now counterclockwise and timed perfectly with the rhythm of his thrusts. Your elbow buckles under his force, and the drop and change of position has you moaning into the sink bowl, loud and embarrassing as it echoes off of the ceramic.

“That’s my girl,” he coos, speeding up as you clench around him, “gonna make me come all over you, paint you like a fuckin’ Rembrandt.”

So, Adrian knows about Dutch Golden Age painters. Interesting. You don’t dwell on that much, not when he’s snapping his hips into you hard enough to bruise now. Not when his hand hasn’t left your clit. Not when blood and spit cover your reflected faces in the mirror. He’s right, you’re both a sight to fucking see. It really is beautiful. You lock eyes with him in the mirror, and it’s all over. That was all Adrian apparently needed, his hips stuttering as he releases inside you.

“Fuck, babe, you see what you do to me?” he asks as he slow his hips, but speeds up with motion of his hand. It doesn’t take long for you to follow him, clenching and coming around his cock still inside you, biting your lip until it bleeds too.

He hesitates to slow down, bringing you back down slowly before he stops completely. He presses a kiss to the side of your head, lips smearing into the blood in your hair, copper and bitter, crimson and guilty. Not of murder, although a cop might think differently, but of blowing your cover on the casual situation you held gingerly between you. He kisses you again, the man that you walk-of-shame’d from his apartment many mornings, the man who sliced another man in half today for coming after you because you yourself killed his henchman. Adrian kisses you again as he pulls out, gentle with the motion and holding you still with his big warm hands.

He smiles at you from the mirror, wide and bright. You can’t help but smile back at him, despite the nerves that start to ice out the warmth you feel from him. You pull up your pants hastily, and turn to face him in the bathroom that now feels way more claustrophobic than before. He chuckles and smears his hands across your face, clumsy and blurry without the help of his prescription. You’re both still covered in blood. So much for sneaking away with the excuse of cleaning up. You join in his laughter, but yours is slightly forced.

“Maybe we can… pretend they don’t know,” you suggest in a whisper to Adrian as he leads you out of the bathroom. His hand remains on yours, funny in the way that it brings comfort and peace despite the guilt and embarrassment pooling in your gut.

“Oh, we totally heard all of that,” Chris scoffs, not at all giving you the grace or space to play it off. Great. You grimace and refuse to look anywhere but Adrian.

“Oh, C’mon guys you know I had to clean up my girl, she had blood all over her!” Adrian offers, as if that’s an excuse.

“She’s still covered in blood!” Leota exclaims.

“Your girl? What the fuck, are you dating?” John asks. You’re lucky Emilia is fucking ignoring all of this, at least. She’s texting and refusing to join in.

But John’s question strikes a chord. This is the second time he’s called you his, despite all of the talk you’d had about keeping things chill without a label.

Chris’ phone pings.

“Oh, not fair, Harcourt!” he shouts as he digs a ten bill out of his wallet. She was paying attention, and betting on you apparently.

“Are we?” you ask, voice small and unsure. To be his wouldn’t be terrible. He’s your favorite person on this team and a good friend, doesn’t help that he’s gorgeous. It might be nice doing take out dates on a busboy salary and sleeping in snuggled up together. In fact, you can picture it pretty clearly. In fact, you’d been doing that at least three nights a week for the past month. Fuck. You’ve been dating Vigilante. Totally not casual.

“I think so. Pretty cool right?” Adrian’s smile grows wide, proud of himself.

“Sure,” you answer, a grin spreading on your own face too.

Fuck casual.

#adrian chase x reader

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