#-proud of without fucking killing himself over it like he has been

[butchsophiewalten]

Thought I had posted about this already whups. Martin made a really important twitter thread earlier:

#the walten files #I already said my little piece about this over on twitter. I just hope he's well and that he takes a long break #and that he knows his own mental wellbeing is orders of magnitude more important than any specific date for episode release #I'll admit that i'm really saddened by his attitude here. And my stomach kinda turns whenever he peppers in the little reassurances like- #-'but don't worry i'll still try to get episode 4 on time!!' like Man. that should not be your biggest concern #And all i really hope for is for him to take as long of a break from the series as he needs as often as he needs #and I really hope he can figure out an approach to this series that keeps it fun and enjoyable to work on and that he can be happy with and #-proud of without fucking killing himself over it like he has been #Because this kind of overwork crunch ethic has no upsides for anybody. It's bad for him and it's bad for The Walten Files and it's bad for- #-the community. no one benefits from this

[kasagia]

Right hand III

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: After Feyd learns the truth about your dark past, you do everything in your power to prove your loyalty to him. He has many ideas for this... but will your life be able to go back to normal after that? You will either die at his hands, be exiled, return to the Bene Gesseit, or live by his side. And you yourself don't even know which of these options is worse... Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

His dagger digs lightly into your neck, blood slowly trickling down it. You don't try to fight him, you don't push the blade away or try to rip it out of his hand. You know that if you did, you would have been killed by him long ago.

You had to play it smart… and fast—before he slit your throat, which was becoming a more likely scenario with every second.

"Feyd…" You choke out once more, trying to make him look you in the eyes and get him to listen to you. The blood is seeping out of you faster and faster as he presses the blade harder against your throat.

"Silience, witch! You little plague, bane of my existence, poisonous viper, how long have you been playing with me? How long have you been faking all this? Did you think you could outsmart me? That you can deceive me? Make fun of me? Humiliate me? I should fuck you raw, use you like a whore, and leave you in your ridiculous sisterhood to rot with those old hags!" He shouts, pressing his blade harder against your throat. The cool steel of the metal on your skin is becoming a more serious threat to your life. You shiver as you feel him taking more blood from you.

"Feyd, listen…" You try to speak again, placing your hand on his wrist. He pushes your hand away as if it posed a radioactive threat greater than anything floating in Giedi Prime's atmosphere and glares at you furiously.

"NO! You lied to me. You betrayed me. You know how I punish people for disloyalty. You're lucky that I won't throw you to my soldiers so they can play with you before I give you to my harpies. But don't worry, I will take very good care of you. You'll die like those cowardly rats you helped me kill a few hours ago…"

"You... you would... kill me... if I told you... at the beginning..." You gasp as he grabs your neck tightly and drags his blade down your body, creating a trail of blood leading to your collarbone.

"I will kill you now." He growls hoarsely, completely cutting off the air from your respiratory tract.

Your eyes widen as he lifts you off the ground so that only your toes touch the floor. Tears well up in your eyes as you desperately try to draw in air, but his hand is wrapped too tightly around your neck for the oxygen to reach your lungs.

When you realised that it was over and that he had decided on your death, the moment that Lady Jessica told him the whole truth about you, you relaxed. You let a blissful emptiness wash over you as you slowly waited for him to take your life away. You close your eyes, rest your head against the wall behind you, and let your body slowly go limp as the seconds pass without air.

You gasp, surprised, as the grip on your neck loosens so that you can take small, ragged breaths. You quickly take advantage of the opportunity and take a few shaky breaths. You open your eyes, staring into Feyd's icy blue and furious gaze in utter shock.

Was he going to play with you before he killed you? Torture, like many before you, until he finds in himself some mercy and takes your life? Because if you know one thing, it's that you won't beg him to let you go. About nothing. Never. You were too proud to do so.

"Fight." He growls, pressing you harder against the wall. He leans forward, bringing his face very close to yours. You shiver, feeling his breath on your cheek as he carefully observes your reaction to his intimidation. Like a snake waiting for the right moment to attack.

"What?" You ask stupidly, not understanding what he is doing. You've often watched him play with his victims, prolonging their suffering and giving them no hope of escaping his grip... so why does he want you to fight? Why does he want you to resist him? Was this another sick game of his?

"Fight! Scream! Struggle! Why are you not doing anything?! Why don't you beg for your miserable life, Bene Gesserit's spy?! Fight with me! Fight back! FIGHT BACK!!" He screams and throws you against the wall.

Completely unprepared for him to completely release you from his grip, you fall to the floor, too weak to keep your balance on your own. You place your hands on the black metal sheet beneath you and breathe quickly, trying to get as much air as possible before he wraps his hand around your throat again.

"I… I was always… loyal… to you…" You gasp, still trying to recover from what just happened. He walks slowly towards you. He presses the tip of his sword under your chin and forces you to lift your head and look him in the eyes.

“You have five minutes before I treat you like I treat your mentor. Use this time well. I can always get bored and kill you faster.” He takes a step back and slowly slides the blade across your skin. He steps away from you to pour himself a drink, but he keeps watching you out of the corner of his eye. You take one brief glance at Lady Jessica's body before you can compose yourself enough to formulate any logical response.

"I... I have no idea what she told you. Where she lied and where it was convenient for her to tell the truth... but whatever she told you I did... she surely doesn't know the one, most important thing. She doesn't know the reason for my actions."

"Oh, but I do. You wanted to run away from them so you wouldn't have to breed with such a monster as me. You thought that as my right hand, you would be safe, that I wouldn't notice you in the shadows, that I wouldn't want you, and that I wouldn't touch you. But I did. And by doing so, I destroyed your plans. Tell me, how many times have you escaped from Giedi Prime in your fantasies? How many times have you wanted to leave for good?"

With each question he asks, he takes a step towards you, which makes him stand in front of you again. But you didn't get up from the floor. You didn't feel like it. Besides, you doubted he would let you stand up and be on an equal level with him. He needed to feel in control, to feel that he is still dominating over you—that he didn't lose control over you despite your... betrayal. Although you didn't think it was any kind of betrayal at all. A slight omission of a few facts. Nothing more.

"I... you can't blame me for that. Anyone with survival instincts would not willingly live on Giedi Prime. But I stayed." You decide to tell him some of the truth this time. For too long, you managed to play your cards well. You had to bend a little to his will without losing your claw and not behaving like an obedient concubine, wanting to fulfil all his orders and wishes, because that would make him more suspicious, and he would definitely kill you for trying to deceive him and lie to him again.

"You stayed out of fear." He questions your words, keeping his watchful, piercing gaze on you as he tries to find in you any trace of lying.

You almost shiver under the furious gaze of his icy blue eyes. Fortunately, you manage to refrain from showing him any reaction. The metallic scent of Lady Jessica's blood motivated you to survive like nothing had before. You somehow manage to recall some of your lessons and training sessions with her as you think about how to respond to Feyd's words. Maybe her methods and rules didn't keep her alive, but unlike her, you knew Feyda-Rautha too damn well. You could get out of this. You just had to play it smart and sacrifice a few things…

"Out of loyalty to you. Sense of duty and honor. Something I thought we both shared." You say confidently, meeting his gaze bravely.

However, your attitude does not impress him at all. He lazily turns the dagger in his hands, playing with the sharp blade. He doesn't take his eyes off you, even for a moment. He just stands there, maintaining a completely calm and unruffled demeanor. It's hard to imagine now that just a moment ago, this man was overcome with the greatest anger of his entire life. You've seen him in many states, but you have never seen him that mad. Rabban may have been called a beast by others, but the real threat was his younger brother. Especially when his first anger was over and it was time for the cold calculation of revenge.

“Was that loyalty and sense of duty also present in you when you chose to ignore the fact that you were supposed to be mine? That you are destined to give me an heir so strong that the whole world will kneel before him?” This time, you can't help but shudder. He notices this and chuckles darkly, shaking his head. In a split second, the tip of his blade is once again pressed on the thin and delicate skin of your throat. You swallow, and when you meet his gaze, you realise that you have to tell the truth if you don't want to die on your knees in front of him.

"If your uncle told you to marry me and have your offspring with me, would you do it?" A frown appears on his forehead at the mere mention of the baron. His hand trembles slightly as a new wave of rage washes over him.

"What does he have to do with this?" He asks hoarsely, as he suspects you of working with his uncle. After all, you were smart enough to play both sides.

Feyd wouldn't be surprised if you reported everything he was doing to his uncle behind his back. That's why he preferred having you—a cunning, beautiful witch who was now kneeling before him—by his side. Because you were drop-dead perfect. He never expected you to make such a stupid mistake. To ever let him gain even the slightest doubt about your loyalty.

"Nothing. But the Bene Gesserit were to me what your uncle is to you. And after running away from them, the last thing I wanted to do was follow the last sick order they gave me." The years you spent with him gave you enough information about the family relationship at House Harkonnen.

They are like predators waiting for the right moment to attack, always prepared to hurt the other one when he shows even a tiny glimmer of weakness. You also know Feyd's past... or rather, the history of scars on his back. Unfortunately, these were not the only marks the baron left on him.

You hold your breath as he grabs your hair and pulls you up. You get up on your feet, and, being on an equal level with him, you no longer hesitate to look him in the eye. He releases your hair with the other, only to move it to your cheek and neck. He rubs tiny droplets of blood across yours, shifting his attention to your skin. He caresses your jawline with his finger and suddenly tilts your head back, giving himself a better view of your reddened throat, which has begun to form bruises in the shape of his fingers from how he choked you just moments ago. You swallow, watching him closely.

"And yet you served me for many years. You stayed with me after they wanted to link your future with mine. Why?"

“I was hoping the last place they would look for me would be Giedi Prime by your side. And that… after all, you won't be interested in me.”

"But I was. This must have spoiled your plans, right?"

"A little." You confess, hoping to gain something from your honesty.

After your words, there is a long silence in the room. He removes his hand from you, staring intently at you as he considers your words. You wait in suspense and anticipation for his next decision.

One quick move was enough to take your life.

And from the look in his eyes, you know it must have been tempting for him to add your blood to Lady Jessica's, which was already staining the floor of the ship.

"On your knees." His command is so sudden that it takes you a moment for your brain to process what he said.

All you can do is stare at him blankly, your heart beating with excitement and terror at the thought of his words. He didn't want to… he couldn't now… You look down at his pants and swallow, seeing the slight bulge. You hold your breath as he takes a step towards you and presses his hard length against your thigh, which undoubtedly confirms your suspicions. He lifts your chin with two fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes as you blush and realise what he is asking you to do.

"I love your doe eyes, my pet, but there's a time and a place for everything. On your knees or your heart will become another decoration of my chambers." He says it huskily, caressing your chin before letting go. He stares at you expectantly, waiting for your next move.

You swallow again, feeling a huge lump in your throat. Your mind is racing, but you know, as he does, that you have no escape. Your position is hopeless; you can either give him a blowjob or die, and you don't want to do any of it. Or touch him in any way after he disembowelled Lady Jessica in front of you. But the prospect of being his next victim reluctantly brings you to your knees before him.

"Good girl." He hums, tilting your chin slightly so you're looking at him and not the floor between you. He takes a step towards you and attaches the dagger to his arm. "Show me that your beautiful, deceptive, tempting lips, throat, and larynx can do more than feed me with sweet lies, and maybe I won't cut them out of you."

You hold your breath, your eyes trailing down to his pants. You hear him chuckle darkly before he takes your hands in his and places them on the fastenings of his pants, guiding your hands as you gradually free his length from his armour.

You swallow again at the sight of his full, hard length and curse him, as the rumours about him do not lie at all. He was enormous. Long and not too thick, but not thin either. You don't know if you'd rather he tried to cut your throat with a knife than pierce it with what stood proud between you.

"Rumours say you know how to do it. I don't remember how many soldiers I killed for the privilege of having your body before me. But each of them shared one opinion. Your fire burns as bright in battle as it does in the bedroom. Show me, my little witch, how much you care about continuing to be my right hand and having all the privileges you had." He encourages you mockingly when you stare at his slightly pre-cum-dripping cock for too long for his liking. But damn, his cum was black. You were sure as hell that the bastard was going to paint you with it.

You give him an angry, cold glare as you wrap your hand around his length. He lets out a soft moan, grabbing your jaw to make sure you keep your eyes on his. You swallow, stroking his length with slow movements of your hand as he gets even harder. Part of you is glad that he wants you to look at him. You doubt you could keep your composure if you had to look at what you had to fit in your mouth… and hopefully only in your mouth.

He growls when you drag out the inevitable too long, using only your hands on him. You can see that he likes what you're doing, but the impatience radiating from him makes you realise that it won't end with just a few caresses of your hands around his length.

Reluctantly, you lean down and wrap your lips around his tip, sucking him gently—like candy. You taste his pre-cum on your tongue, surprisingly taking in its… not-so-horrible taste. It's bittersweet on your tongue and thick. You shudder at the thought of what he would feel like inside you.

He groans, burring his hands in your hair as he gently pushes you on him to make you take more of his cock into your mouth. You choke as his length suddenly hits the back of your throat. Surprisingly, he stops pushing you and just keeps his hands in your hair, letting you adjust to his full length.

"I've always liked your hair..." He starts tugging on them to correct your rhythm. "A natural leash for my beautiful, dangerous pet..."

You growl around him in anger at his words. He groans throatily, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth at the extra stimulation he got from you. You feel tears slowly begin to well up in your eyes as he allows himself to move his hips more and more, lazily thrusting into your throat. Your saliva mixes with his pre-cum, staining the corners of your mouth.

It amazes you how gentle he is with you. How he doesn't push you too far so as not to cause you the pain you know he loves to enjoy. More than once, you had to call the medic to his concubines. Even his harpies occasionally got injured when he used them for his pleasure after a particularly exciting fight. You knew how… he could get lost in his pleasure. Yet he was extremely careful with you.

He starts thrusting into your throat faster and faster, guiding your head by your hair in time with his thrusts. You let your tears fall as he picked up a pace you couldn't keep up with. You close your eyes and feel a tear roll down your cheek. You open them, meeting his gaze, when you feel his thumb brush away your falling tear. He licked it off his finger, purring at its salty flavour.

You wrap your hands around his balls, massaging them in a circular motion, trying to make him come as quickly as possible. He laughs throatily, pounding stupidly into your mouth. Your jaw starts to hurt. You prop yourself up on his thigh with one hand, unable to stay on your knees for long on your own.

Seeing that you're having difficulty, he slows down a little, lazily digging into your throat. He luxuriated in the warmth of your mouth, and your tongue caressed his length. His gaze never falters, as he maintains eye contact with you the entire time. He strokes your cheek with his hand, then moves to your throat as he gently uses his fingertips to feel the bulge in your throat caused by his cock.

"I'll take you. Fast and hard. You'll cry as beautifully as you do now and writhe beneath me desperately, trying to escape like always, but you'll be so impaled on my cock and wrapped in the tight embrace of my arms that you won't move a fucking millimetre without my permission. I will fuck into you our Kwisatz Haderach, so no one will ever doubt that it should have been otherwise, that you don't belong with me. And the best of all is that you will not know the damn day or hour when it will happen. You will learn how to be my whore and baroness, just like you learned how to be my right hand. You'll do great, my little witch. You prove very well with your mouth and hands what a wonderful right hand you are. Much better than my own fucking hand. Much better than any of the fantasies I had. My little witch, always attending to my every need. Only fucking mine."

He moans, speeding up drastically, chasing his peak. You feel him getting closer to his orgasm as he becomes impossibly harder in your mouth and his balls tighten, ready to release his black cum. He keeps making you look at him until he growls loudly, coming into your mouth.

Earlier, you were gagging with just his length in your mouth. Now you really choke as his seed spills down your throat. He presses you against him, your nose brushing against his pubic bone, making you swallow all of his cum until it's completely inside you. Its taste is pungent, reminding you of a spicy, bitter spice.

He stays in your mouth for a while after he finishes pouring into you. He massages your scalp with his hands, clearly not wanting to release you. His cock twitches slightly, and you fear he's about to give you a second round.

He sighs, reluctantly pulling out of your mouth. He grabs your hands and guides them to his pants. You cleaned him and put him back in his pants without saying a word. You are not even looking into his eyes, knowing full well that a satisfied smile will spread across his lips the moment you do.

He grabs your arms and lifts you off your knees. You shiver, unable to stay on your two feet after being on your knees for so long, and you fall into his arms, leaning completely against him. He laughs huskily, pulling you closer to his chest. He uses his fingertip to collect the last of your saliva and his cum from the corners of your mouth and pushes his fingers into your mouth. You suck on them, meeting his eyes with your defiant, angry gaze.

He hums, smiling darkly as he watches with satisfaction as you lick his fingers. He leans forward, his nose brushing your cheek as he licks from your face and then from your neck the droplets of his black cum that leaked from your mouth as you tried to swallow everything he poured into you. You shiver as his tongue caresses the skin of your neck, tracing the small, sealed wound he inflicted on you with his dagger. He hums against your neck, disappointed at how quickly your blood clots.

Suddenly, he lets you completely go. You can barely keep your balance as he walks away from you.

"If that Atreides' bitch survived, so did her pathetic puppy. Send a message to our people in the desert. Paul Atredis is alive. We have to kill him before he and the rebels start a revolt and destroy our plans. Clean up here too. Tomorrow we have half a tribe of these rats to interrogate."

You nod dumbly, trying to understand what the hell just happened. Just a few hours ago, you were afraid for your life, and now that you... have pleased him, he acts like nothing has happened. You come to the conclusion that it bothered you more than when he pressed his blade against your throat.

"Ah, and Y/N." He says, stopping at the door and turning to look at you one last time before leaving the room. You can tell by the mischievous smile on his lips that he has nothing good planned for you. "I want to see you in my chambers tonight."

He doesn't wait for your reaction or response. He just walks out with a springy, energetic step, closing the door behind him with a bang.

You shiver as you find yourself alone in the room with Lady Jessica's corpse. You look around, and, in a desperate attempt to find some positives, you decide that at least your blood isn't staining the floor of the ship... or at least not yet.

His chambers in the main base on Arrakis are not as... ornately terrifying as those he had in Giedi Prime. You wouldn't guess that someone important lived there. It was an ordinary room with a bed, a chest of drawers, and a bathroom. No amenities, just a commander's room; definitely too poor for a na-baron.

You shiver as you feel his hand on your hip. He pulls you to his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your hair. He sighs, inhaling your scent. The warm air on your neck is tickling you gently. You think about how it's been too easy for him to sneak up on you lately. You've gone out of shape.

"Are you planning how to escape, little witch?" He whispers hoarsely, playing with the fabric of your nightgown.

"I didn't. And believe me, I had better opportunities in the past. So why would I escape now?" You answer his question with your own one, irritated by his suspicions.

"Because unlike me, you are very reluctant to welcome our Kwisatz Haderach into this world." You roll your eyes at his words and turn your head to give him an annoyed look. He shrugs with a smirk. He presses a kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder before resting his chin on it. "You're obviously trying to distance yourself from me, too." He adds, seeing the irritated frown on your forehead.

“Weren't you the one who thought the Bene Gesserit prophecies were just bullshit from stoned old women?” You ask, raising your eyebrows in challenge.

"I did… but this particular one seems very convincing..." He purrs into your neck. He moves one hand from your hip so his finger can trace the red line of the wound he gave you with the dagger. He tilted your head back, forcing you to rest your head on his shoulder as he placed a trail of kisses on the small scar.

"Where are your harpies?" You ask when he starts showing too much interest in your neck, peppering it with kisses.

"Should I call them? Would you like them to join us?" You wrinkle your nose, at which he laughs, amused, tightening his hold on you.

"Of course not. You know that I have... no sympathy for them." You grumble, trying to break free from his grip, which, of course, he won't let you.

"The feeling is mutual. You know, they think you're stealing me from them. And that I will quickly get bored with you, like with other... oriental pets I had, and I will come back to them."

"What are you waiting for, then?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. He chuckles darkly, shaking his head. His hand plays with the strap of your black sleep gown, gently stroking your bare skin. He leans down, nuzzling your temple, and whispers in your ear:

“The problem is, my dear little witch, that you have taken over every ounce of my thoughts. My dreams, my nights, my days… it seems only right that I get back the time I wasted dreaming about you, right?”

You shiver, both from his words and from the way his hand slides over your body like a snake. He strokes your breasts, taking a moment to focus on them before his hand rests on your hips again. He presses you against him, clinging to you like a second skin.

"Let's go to bed. It was a very long day. For both of us..." He says, directing you towards his bed. You resist him slightly by digging your heels into the floor, but he quickly counters this by lifting you up gently, leaving your feet dangling in the air.

"Wouldn't you rather sleep alone? It's pretty warm here." You try to get out of it one last time, feeling the soft silk of his black sheets beneath you as he gently places you on his bed. He laughs mockingly, amused by your poor attempt at escape.

"Not at night. You know that well. I'd rather keep an eye on you, little witch. We don't know what monsters may be lurking in the darkness of Arrakis after we killed the Reverend Mother of those rats." He purrs, laying down next to you. You sigh as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to him, knowing full well that your safety is the last thing he's worried about right now.

"If Paul Atreides survived, it is very likely that he could be Muad'Dib. He will come here. To avenge his mother and unborn sister." You warned him. You're trying to make this situation more… normal. Lying in his bed and in his arms wasn't the least bit normal for you, but making plans with him was. You needed to keep your mind occupied until you could fall asleep… if he let you fall asleep.

"You didn't stop me from killing her. You didn't say a word. Why? Were you afraid you'd be next?"

You shake your head. You're not going to tell him the whole truth about what you felt back then, but you know you can't lie to him. You have to tell him at least half the truth if you want to regain some of his trust... at least until you escape.

"Lady Jessica believed that Paul was the real Kwisatz Haderach, since she gave Duke Leto a son instead of a daughter. The Bene Gesserit resented her for this. She was supposed to give him a daughter. A daughter who was to marry you and give you a real Kwisatz Haderach. By disobeying their orders, she fell into their disfavour... until she gave them the idea that they might as well... fuse me with you to secure your bloodline. But the Bene Gesserit came up with the idea that I was going to be the mother of the Kwisatz Haderach. If I hadn't gone with you that night... I might as well have died at her hands. I… I guess I was glad that I survived her."

Not looking at his face helps you partially open up to him. You didn't like remembering your past. This was the one thing you had in common. You try your best to reveal as little to him as you have to, unconsciously tracing patterns in his hand as he keeps hugging you from behind. If you turned around, you would have seen his small smile at your gesture quickly disappear as he sensed the growing tension within you at the thought of Lady Jessica.

"If I had known, I would have made it more painful for her." He states, taking your hand in his and squeezing it. You look down at your joined hands and frown as he slowly strokes the skin of your hand with his thumb.

"Why?" You ask in a whisper, not moving an inch when he buries his nose in your hair.

"Because no one hurts what's mine."You snort, knowing full well the true meaning of his words. If you were just a naive young girl, you would believe in the good intentions behind these words. However, you know Feyd Rautha too well to naively believe that he won't break his favourite toys. He grabs your chin in a tight grip and turns you to face him. You swallow thickly as his intense gaze meets yours. You've never had the chance to look so closely at his icy blue eyes... "I want you by my side all the time. I need to make sure you're not planning anything behind my back, little witch."

"Haven't I proven my loyalty enough?" You ask, placing your hands on his bare chest and pushing yourself away from him gently. He chuckles darkly, letting go of your chin in a split second to grab your wrists in a tight grip. He lifts your hands, pushing them away from him and twisting them so you can't move them.

"I believe you are capable of doing much more." He murmurs against your throat, pressing kisses there and lazily sucking at your skin, which was already irritated by his dagger.

You squirm in his arms, trying to somehow protect your neck from his wandering lips. Your attempts fail, as you only give him more fun by grinding against him in a desperate attempt to escape.

Eventually, he gets bored and decides to let you go. He lets you turn your back on him again, but you don't get far. His arms wrap around you, holding you in a cage as he takes on the role of the big spoon.

"I will bring you the head of Atreides on a golden plate. There is only one Kwisatz Haderach—our future son. I won't let some dog from Caladan tell people otherwise." He whispers in your ear. You shiver, half-wishing you were stupid enough to believe in his devotion. The fact that someone can do anything you want for you. But it wasn't love. It was just an obsession. You had to remember that.

"Maybe he really is the one… or maybe it's all just nonsense made up by those old hags? Maybe there will be no Kwisatz Haderach at all? What's then?" He doesn't answer your questions. However, you manage to get some reaction out of him.

He pulls away from you, the bed creaking beneath him as you hear him turn over to his other side. The sudden chill of not having his body close to yours makes you shiver.

You find yourself regretting for a moment that whatever you said made him distance himself from you. You shake your head and sigh, sinking deeper into the pillows. You try to find the most comfortable position possible when settling down to sleep. But for some reason, you don't feel tired at all. Your eyes are wide open as you listen to his soft breathing, the only other sound in the empty room.

"How did you find out about… uncle?" His sudden question makes you turn towards him. He remains turned away from you, ignoring any movement from you. You think for a moment, staring at the scars scattered across his pale, muscular back, before answering him.

"I have eyes and ears. And enough brain cells to… deduce a few things." You whisper, tracing a particularly nasty-looking scar on his back with the pad of your thumb. "I also... I went through something similar. I've told you that before. Bene Gesserit was to me what your uncle is to you." He turns slowly to face you at your words. His eyes examine you so thoroughly that you feel another shiver run through your body.

This time, when he reaches out to cup your cheek, you don't fight him. You let him, trying to decipher the unreadable look in his eyes as he continues to consider your words.

"Tell me... how could I resist when you're like this? How could I ignore you and leave you in your shadows when everything you do fascinates me to a madness that only you can heal?" He asks, tracing the line of your lips with the pad of his thumb.

"You wanted to kill me today." You remind him in an accusatory tone. You bite the tip of his finger, which only brings a smirk to his face as he moves his hand away from your face. He places it on your hip, squeezing it in a silient warning.

"I wanted to scare you. You lied to me, so you needed some punishment. Besides, you know perfectly well that if I really wanted to kill you, you would already be dead."

"Not telling the whole truth is not a lie. Besides… your intentions don't make this situation any different to me." You huff, rolling your eyes. He laughs huskily, caressing your hip through the fabric of your nightgown as he moves closer to you on the bed. Your chest is pressed against his. Both of you are breathing steadily and slowly, staring intently into each other's eyes.

"Are you afraid of the little old me, my little witch?" He asks teasingly. You catch yourself watching the sparkle of amusement in his eyes shine surprisingly brightly under the light of the Arrakis moon. You can't make yourself turn your gaze off of him. And that's what terrifies you.

"Should I?" You ask in a whisper, trembling, not giving him an ounce of trust. Seeing your extremely distrustful and hostile attitude, he stops smiling. He looks at you more seriously, as he is deep into his thinking.

He doesn't respond to you. He places a kiss on your forehead and turns your back to him. He holds you tightly, buries his nose in your hair, and slowly falls asleep, wrapping himself in your warmth and scent. On your back, you feel his heart beating calmly in his strong, well-built chest. You allow yourself to sigh shakily, being finally 'alone' for the first time since this fateful day began.

And you realise that you're not afraid of him at all. The only person you are afraid of is yourself. That you would give in to your strange attraction to him one day and seal your fate. You didn't want to die. But you'd rather find yourself buried under the sands of Arrakis than let those Bene Gesserit witches control your life ever again.

"If you tear this, you'll be walking around with my hand around your throat." He warns you, seeing you struggling with the black leather choker around your neck he gave you. It looked like a fucking collar. And it was a bit too tight for you to feel comfortable in it.

"You give me so many options…" You snort sarcastically, leaving the damn choker around your neck. "I look like a fucking whore." You say and turn towards him to look at him carefully.

He wore his more formal black armour with a cape that was as dark as the rest of his outfit. He smiles sarcastically and walks over to you. He smoothes the fabric of your dress on your waist and places his hands on your hips.

"Whore? Not at all. More like my pet." He hums, trying to take in your form in a form-fitting black dress. The silver chains on your hips and chest connect into a spider's web that flows down with the fabric of the skirt of the dress, which surprisingly doesn't cling as tightly to your body as the bodice of the dress does.

It's... definitely a bolder outfit than you're used to wearing. And this time, your hair was loose. The maids put silver accessories and small diamond jewels into your hair. You were a nicely wrapped gift, especially prepared for the Na-Baron's birthday.

"What's the difference?" You ask, raising an eyebrow defiantly.

"Calm down, little witch. Rumours about your past spread quickly. We can't let people see me as a weak man who fell under the spell of a Bene Gesserit, can we?" He teases you. He leans towards you and nuzzles your cheek before his lips start to trace a path along your jaw to your neck. You sigh slightly and place your hands on his chest, trying to keep him at a distance.

"Please. Don't pretend you're not doing it for your own fucking satisfaction." You snap at him, still trying to push him away. He puts the dagger on your neck rather quickly and too suddenly, making you refrain from any form of protest for a moment as he decorates your neck with hickeys.

"I'm not even trying to deny it at all… you look stunning, by the way." He growls hoarsely. His blade moves from your neck to the top of your corset, pressing the tip against the valley between your breasts. You sigh, feeling the coolness of the blade against your chest.

"They are waiting for you." You whisper as he nuzzles his nose against yours.

"We have a moment... besides, it's my birthday. Don't you want to celebrate my adulthood?" His low tone of voice sends shivers down your spine. Even after he tosses his blade aside, you make no move to try to walk away from him.

"You're still acting like the horny teenager I met. I doubt you will ever grow up."

"Watch what you say… I can always show you how hornier I became." His warning is not just lip service. He shows it to you... very clearly as his hard length rubs against your thigh.

You grab his jaw tightly and take a step away from him. He laughs, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back into his arms in one quick movement. You gasp in shock, falling into his chest. You struggle in his embrace until he slaps your ass. You glare at him furiously, at which he only tightens his grip on you.

"I want you to paint my body before the fight." He mumbles, caressing your cheek as you try to pull your head back from him.

Leading members of the high houses gathered on Arrakis to celebrate his birthday and the fact that he had managed to restore the mining and export of spices to extraordinary levels.

Feyd was to put on a spectacle, killing the most dangerous Fremen who managed to be kept alive during interrogations. However, you and Feyd have bigger worries to take care of right now. Like the baron and the emperor. Or Paul Atreides... or rather, their Muad'dib, who has not been found by you yet. Something Feyd decided to ignore for now in favor of groping you and trying to get into your pants.

Over the last few weeks, he has clung to you like a limpet. It made it very difficult for you to do any work or spy, as he was literally following you around. You felt like his favourite dog on a leash, taken for walks around the building before locking you in his chambers for the night, keeping you close to him. Even his harpies couldn't take his attention away from you. Something you really hoped would happen soon.

"It's always been… your harpies' privilege." You say as he tangles his hand in your hair.

"And now I want you to do it." He says it calmly, caressing your cheek as you try to pull your head back from him. "Do you mind?" You huff at his condescending question.

"Don't ask me questions like that; otherwise, I'll start thinking that I really have a choice here." He laughs, showing you a set of his freshly painted black teeth and shakes his head at you.

"We both know you're too smart for that, my shrewd little witch." He says this and leans in, gently brushing your lips with his. He keeps a tight grip on your hair as his kiss becomes more intense and possessive. He tightens his grip on your waist, tugging at the fabric of your dress, causing the silver chains on it to clang against each other with every move of his hand.

His hand reaches for the strings of your corset at the back, but before he can untie even one of them, there's a knock on the door.

"My Lord Na-Baron, the Baron, and your brother have just landed on Arrakis. The emperor should also be arriving soon."

You feel him tense slightly as he pulls away from you. His face hardens as he puts on his emotionless mask, staring out the window, where he could probably see the ship landing.

"Come on, little witch. I don't need to remind you to be on your best behaviour, right?" You roll your eyes at him, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow.

"I think I can play your concubine for a day. Consider this my birthday gift to you, my Na-Baron." You say it sarcastically and sweetly, walking with him out of his room and towards the great hall where he would greet everyone gathered. If you were lucky enough, you might be able to escape from him for a moment or two...

"In my chambers as well?" He asks teasingly, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him trying not to smile, but the corner of his lip twitches, giving him away (at least to you).

"Anywhere but there." You reply quickly, making him smile this time. At least for a second. After all, he has a reputation to uphold.

"That's okay. We don't need to do it there. There are so many other places…" He whispers hoarsely in your ear before you enter the room where the first party is to be held. You can't stop a cold shiver from running down your spine.

Doors are opening for you. You wait for him to let go of your waist and move in front of you like he usually does at these types of parties with the concubines he brought for company, but he doesn't do that at all. Instead, he tightens his grip on your waist and holds you by his side as he navigates through the sea of people. You can't help but blush slightly.

If you had any doubts over the last few weeks that he was no longer interested in you, they were gone with his small gesture. He will indeed ruin you. As soon as he finds the opportunity suitable. You were afraid that the evening of his birthday might be considered in his eyes as a perfect time to do this.

But somehow you manage to get out of his sight. You position yourself against the wall, having a perfect view of the most important people in the room. The Baron and Feyd were talking about something with the Emperor and his daughter. You look at them curiously, especially since the Harkonnens have their backs turned to you. And looking at Princess Irulan in a silver dress that was constructed to resemble armour, you see in her your chance for freedom. If Feyd married her, he would probably get over his strange obsession with you.

"Lady Y/N." Feyd's older brother's mocking greeting reaches your ears. You turn to him, taking your eyes off Feyd for a moment, and nod to the man standing next to you.

"Count Rabban."

"I heard you and my brother dealt with the rats of Arrakis. My congratulations." You are quite wary of his civilised attitude. The last time you saw him, Feyd made him kiss his shoes. And yours. So you definitely didn't stay in... a neutral relationship after that.

"Na-Baron is a great commander." You reply with a polite smile. Your eyes involuntarily wander to Feyd. There's a knot in your stomach when you see him talking to the princess. You frown, wondering what the hell is wrong with you.

"I have no doubt." He nods, also looking at Feyd. "He will destroy you. Like any toy he had before you. When you lose your usefulness, he will throw you to his harpies. He's more unpredictable than me or even my uncle. But you know that... so what are you still doing by his side?" He asks, turning his gaze on you.

"I am his right hand. I live to serve him." You answer automatically, shrugging your shoulders.

"If I had known that Bene Gesserit witches were so devoted, I might have appointed one to be my right hand."

"Believe me, count Rabban, the overwhelming majority would not serve him or anyone else so loyally as I do. They would probably prefer to poison themselves." He laughs at your words, taking two drinks from the passing servant. He hands you one, but you shake your head. "I don't drink if I don't have to. Old habits from my home planet. My mother would slap my sisters and me on the hands until she could see our bones as a punishment for stealing a drink or two." You're half lying when you remember how the Reverend Mothers made sure you were completely… untainted by any substances that could make you less healthy. All for breeding. Like farm animals.

"And they say the Harkonnens are monsters. At least you can get drunk with us… well, before we torture you to death or accidentally kill you."

"I've gotten used to it. Fortunately, I have fast reflexes." You reply with a smirk, knowing full well what he's trying to do. He wanted to ingratiate himself with you while you were still important in the Harkonnen court. His brother currently despised him, and his uncle probably did too. He saw an opportunity to increase his political influence when he spotted you alone.

Suddenly, you feel someone's intense gaze on you. You turned your face to notice that Feyd's eyes were on you and not on the princess, with whom he was still talking. Judging by the way your skin was burning from the look Feyd was giving you, you could tell he didn't like his brother being close to you at all.

And Feyd was incredibly pissed off and furious. In his eyes, Rabban wasn't worthy enough of your time, attention, or even being close to you to have the pleasure to smell the scent of your perfumes. But not only did his brother have the courage to talk to you; he even made you smile. Feyd was already planning in his mind how to tear his head off.

Na-Baron would have done just that if an arrow had not suddenly passed between him and Princess Irulan.

Panic filled the room when suddenly, a hail of arrows hit random people. You grabbed your blade and were about to move towards the first archer you noticed, but suddenly a cold steel was pressed against your neck. The Fremen woman holds you tight. You can only stand there calmly and watch as they overpower the more important representatives of the great families, leading the less important people out of the room. Feyd's blue irises are focused on you all the time, which surprisingly makes you feel a little better.

"Silience!" You freeze when you see Paul Atreides emerge from the crowd of Fremen.

Your informants haven't told you much about him. He had done well since he was forced to live on Arrakis among the Fremen. He became stronger, smarter, and more ruthless. He had no weaknesses… except one. You look around the room, your eyes locking on the woman who stood a few metres away from you. His lover.

If living among powerful men taught you anything, it was that they only had a few weaknesses. Fear for their lives, property, title, and, among those younger and less experienced in life, their loved ones. But Paul Atreides changed on Arrakis. He wasn't the little boy you knew during your training with his mother. You could only hope that he loved his woman enough to consider rescuing her. Maybe you will buy enough time before your trops, waiting on ships above Arrakis, come to rescue you.

"Let me go. Give me your blade. Keep your mouth shut and close your eyes for the next 30 minutes." You use your voice on the woman who holds you.

While she does what you told her, you try to get to Atreides' lover unnoticed. You ignore his speech; your heart is racing in your chest, and all you can hear is the sound of your blood flowing in your blood vessels.

When you reach the Fremen woman, you quickly disarm her and press your dagger to her neck. Atreides stops his speech. Before anyone can react, you take a deep breath and say loudly:

"Everyone ten steps back. Stay still, or slit your throat with the nearest weapon." Everyone in the room is listening to you. You have to take a few steps back with the woman you have in your iron grip. You tremble as you feel the eyes of everyone in the room on you, especially Feyd's. However, your gaze is fixed only on Paul Atreides.

"This is impossible… what are you?" He asks in shock, not moving after you forced him and everyone else in the room to back away from you.

"It doesn't matter, Atreides. Take your men and get out of here. I advise you well." You growl furiously at him. You feel the blood start to pulsate in your veins. The old wound on your side is slowly starting to open up under the pressure your body is going through. You're glad you're wearing a black dress. At least not all of them will see the blood stain on your dress when it will be leaking out of you more and more by the second.

"You cannot keep them under your will forever. You'll soon get tired, faint, or bleed to death." He reasons, fully aware that your crowd control is time-limited.

"My men will be landing here soon. They'll take everyone who counts and fly away with us, raining nuclear bombs on your precious little desert. The spice from these areas may have been contaminated for several centuries, but we still have the opposite pole of Arrakis to exploit and extract it. So better choose wisely."

He frowns at your words, looking at you carefully and analysing your facial expressions carefully. You stare at him hard and unfazed, even though you feel the fabric of your dress sticking to your open wound. You have a staring fight with each other until you press your dagger a little more into the woman's throat and take her blood. He looks briefly at his girl before he opens his mouth to speak.

"We've met before, right?"

"You have one minute to make a decision before I make your woman bleed to death in front of you." You say hoarsely, feeling your muscles tremble slightly. But you hold on with all your might, maintaining your calm, dangerous, hostile attitude.

You all wait in suspense to see what he will do. He might as well attack and kill you, risking his men overpowering any reinforcements that come to your rescue. But you hope he's considerate enough to back off. If not because of the people who came after him, then because of his girlfriend or concubine, whose life now depends solely on you.

You almost sigh in fucking relief when he takes a step back. You let him get out of your control, looking at him carefully all the time. You swallowed and let go of his woman.

"Follow your Muad'Dib." You command the people of the desert. They stare at you for a moment before their eyes rest anxiously on their leader. He nods at them as he slowly leaves the room.

As quickly as they arrived, they left. You stand at attention for a long time—a minute, an hour, or hours—until you hear the ship approaching and the movement of the sands of Arrakis under the influence of sandworms.

They left. You realise this with relief. However, it is a very short-lived relief. It ends when your eyes meet the eyes of the reverend mothers, who are clearly communicating with each other. You fucked up. You revealed that you were a Bene Gesserit, or at least that you knew some of their tricks. Unconsciously, you completely let go of control over the gathered crowd.

"Why didn't you wait for your people so we could kill them? Kill him?" The emperor's voice reaches you vaguely. You raise your head and meet the gaze of an old man standing a few steps away from you.

"I bluffed, my emperor." You reply shakily, feeling blood start to flow from your nose as well.

"What?" He asks in shock, unable to believe that all your talk was a pure bluff. You don't have the strength to explain anything. You can stare blankly at the floor, feeling your strength slowly begin to drain away after you use the voice on the people gathered in the room.

"I bluffed." You repeat, feeling your heart beat rapidly against your chest. Your vision becomes completely blurry; all you can hear is the buzzing in your ears, the pounding of your heart, and the slow dripping of your blood onto the floor.

"But… you…" Whatever he was about to say, he's interrupted by you falling to your knees. You don't register at all what's happening around you. The only thing you are sure of is that there are suddenly a lot of people around you.

You're clinging to what little consciousness you have when you suddenly feel something pull you against the hard wall of muscle. You lean against the unexpected support, slowly drifting into blissful unconsciousness as you no longer feel the pain from the open wound on your side. The hoarse call of your name makes you a little more aware, enough to distinguish Feyd's voice from the indistinct gibberish around you.

"Get a medic here!"

He whispers something else to you as he brushes your hair out of your face, but you don't hear anything anymore. You let yourself go into the blissful darkness, happy that you can rest, at least for a moment. And you feel surprisingly comfortable, with the warmth of his arms and his scent being the last things you feel before passing out.

You're surprised that when you wake up in the hospital wing, there's no one at your bed, looking at you like a guard dog. Once you get used to the feeling of being fully aware, you rub your eyes. The moonlight shines through the window, illuminating a dark and empty room you found yourself in.

You ignore the strange twinge in your chest when you don't see your Na-Baron anywhere near you and slowly sit up on the bed. You check the status of your wound and are pleased to see that you are in a more stable condition than you were a few hours ago.

You place your feet on the floor and slowly stand up, testing your muscles. You're relieved to see that it's not as bad as it was in the past. You walk over to the chair where a black silk robe is hanging and put it on. You take a moment to search the room, smiling hugely when you find your daggers on the nightstand next to your bed. You attach one to your thigh and tuck the other inside the sleeve of your robe. Maintaining great silence, you tiptoe out of the room.

You sigh in relief as you wander the empty corridors again, hiding in their shadows. You feel like a newborn, like a fish that has returned to the current of a familiar river. You weren't aware of how therapeutic it was for you to wander the halls alone at night until Feyd trapped you in his arms and his bed practically every night. You missed it. Very much so.

However, today's attempted attack by Atreides made you realise that you were too focused on getting away from Harkonnen and trying to keep him at a distance. You had to take action. Otherwise, Paul Atreides will cut off your head, just like his mother once wanted to do.

You shudder as you remember the day you escaped from the Bene Gesserit sisters' sanctum.

You ran barefoot through familiar corridors in the cold, dark night. You didn't need a torch or other light. You had lived within these walls long enough to know which corridors ended in dead ends and where to turn to reach each gate. But Lady Jessica knew them as well as you. You had to be a lot smarter if you were going to escape the woman who wanted you dead.

Yesterday there was a great meeting of Reverend Mothers after Lady Jessica failed to give birth to Leto Atreides' daughter at the right time. The Reverend Mothers had to find... a new breeding mare for Feyd Rauthy, from whose blood the Kwisatz Haderach was to be created. They chose you. And now, because of this honour that had been a death sentence for you from the very beginning—a curse, an evil fate that seemed to have stuck with you since your birth—Lady Jessica had tried to kill you in your sleep and was now trying to complete her work.

You decide to go to the ramp, hoping that you might be able to capture some small ship—something flying around—that would get you away from those damn Bene Gesserit.

You knew you were too weak to fight Lady Jessica. She taught you a lot, but not how to defeat someone stronger, like her. If you wanted to live, you needed to find a way to escape.

You speed up as you hear the click of her heels behind you. You run as fast as you can, reaching the door just as Lady Jessica appears at the end of the hall. You close the door behind you with a loud snap. You sigh, leaning against it for a moment. You freeze as you feel the blade against your throat.

"Step away." You order in panic before opening your eyes. A cold chill runs through you as you see Na-Baron Harkonnen's cold blue irises staring at you in shock as he obediently steps away from you.

You stand there for a few minutes, staring at each other without saying anything. Na-Baron examines you carefully: your dishevelled state, rapid breathing, red cheeks, and bare feet. You have no idea what he deduced, but it was enough for him to not immediately slit your throat for using the voice on him.

"You should go back to your sisters, little witch. Unless you want to join me, I wouldn't say no to the company of... such a pretty mouse." He speaks hoarsely. He doesn't wait for your answer, though. He simply turns and walks slowly towards the ship his men are packing. You swallow and wonder: Is death at the hands of Lady Jessica or at the hands of Harkonnen? Your pride chooses for you.

"I'm not a mouse, I'm a warrior." You reply, gathering all your inner courage. Na-Baron stops in his way.

His raspy laugh sends another shiver down your spine as he slowly turns back to face you. He approaches you slowly, each step perfectly calculated as he stands a few millimeters in front of you, invading your personal space. You raise your head proudly and meet his gaze with your own, determined one.

Which impresses him.

So much so that he reaches for the dagger strapped to his hip. You don't flinch when he runs the tip of the dagger across his tongue. You watch him closely, waiting for him to either slit your throat or accept the challenge. Feyd is surprised. And very curious—too curious—to simply walk away and continue on his path. That's why he takes your hand in his and hands you the dagger he was just testing.

"So show me what you can do, little witch. Except for using that honeyed voice of yours." He says it mockingly and takes two steps back, drawing another hidden blade from his armour.

You don't remember the entire fight clearly. The adrenaline was pumping through you so much that you only remember snippets of that dance with him with daggers in your hands. Surprisingly, neither of you disarmed the other. You stopped as you both placed your blades against the other's flesh—at points that would guarantee instant death if either of you decided to press the blade against the skin a little harder.

"You fight well, little witch." He praises you, moving away from you. "You're wasting yourself here." He says, looking at you acutely for a long time, considering something. But finally, he nods at you and turns again to join his men and board the ship. You quickly grab his hand before he gets too far away from you. You feel him tense at your touch, but he doesn't make any moves.

"Let me go with you. My blade will be an extension of yours, Na-Baron. I'll be your spy from the shadows, just... get me out of here." He widens his eyes slightly, unprepared for such a request. He turns towards you and glares at you with his icy irises.

It could very well be a trick from those witches, but Feyd would be lying if he didn't say that you caught his attention the first day he saw you training. And he really wanted to see what you were really capable of doing. Few had the guts to challenge him. And he found it somehow charming—how your eyes shone with determination every time you held the blade in your hands.

"Your sisters won't be happy when they find out that I took one of them to Giedi Prime." He says, feigning hesitation. His people knew him well. If he wanted something, he took it. A group of old witches wouldn't stop him, not now that he saw... great potential in you. Maybe not only as one of his soldiers.

"With all due respect, your house is not known for following anyone's rules except those you set. I… I can't stay here any longer."

His heart beat faster, seeing the desperation and helplessness in your eyes. Normally, he would laugh at someone who showed him weakness and kill him on the spot without much thought. But you... when you stared at him with those pleading eyes of yours, flushed from fighting him... it did something to him.

Feyd knew the feeling of helplessness. His uncle loved making him feel this way. And Feyd himself finds great enjoyment in making others feel that way. Humiliated. Weak. Scared. Somehow he didn't like the fact that staying in the sisterhood made you... feel like that and do such desperate actions as coming with him to Giedi Prime.

However, he had no intention of letting go of such a valuable bird that was voluntarily pushing itself into his cage.

"Well, you fight better than most of my men... I will make you my right hand. And as for your Bene Gesserit sisters..." You sigh softly as he reaches for your hair and cuts it in half. He cuts your shoulder and dips the cut hair in your blood. You see him put a few strands in his pocket, before he handed them to his servant, growling something at him in his native language. You raise an eyebrow at him. "I told him to convey my thanks to the Reverend Mother for... sending me a delightful toy. He might also mention that my darlings liked your meat." You nod, swallowing. He laughs mockingly, patting your shoulder. "You have many things to learn, little witch. You better prove to me that I wasn't wrong about you, or you will suffer exactly the fate that my servant will pass on to your sisters. I don't like weakness and disappointment."

"I have no intention of disappointing you, Na-Baron."

"Good. Come with me. I'm fed up with this planet. Besides, you need to change your clothes if you don't want my men to think you're a whore they can enjoy while on our journey." He nods and walks towards the ship. You follow him like his shadow, casting cold, sinister glances at the people staring at you.

"I am perfectly capable of defending myself, my lord." You reply confidently as you walk with him up the ramp to the Harkonnen ship. You see a small smile appear on his face at your words.

"I don't doubt that. However, I wouldn't want to lose more people than necessary. It's supposed to be your job to clean up after me, not the other way around, little witch." He responds, testing you and carefully watching your reaction. You don't flinch, perfectly prepared and familiar with... the brutality of the Harkonnens.

"Duly noted. There's only one thing I don't understand." He doesn't stop in his steps, but he gives you a quick glance and hums, allowing you to continue and ask a question. "I appreciate it very much, but… why didn't you kill me at the entrance?"

He chuckles hoarsely at your question and stops at a specific door. He turns to look at you, a spark of amusement shining in his eyes as he studies you like a predator would its prey before deciding to answer you.

"You didn't apologise or beg for your life. I found it... very refreshing." He says, opening the door. The metallic smell of blood fills your nostrils. You look into the room and see several prisoners chained to the wall of the ship with some strange cuts on their chests—probably some words in Harkonnen."Your first task, little witch. My darlings are very hungry. They will need the meat of my enemies. Come back here in an hour... I should finish by then. And change that rag you wear. I want to see you only in black." He orders, closing the door behind him with a bang.

You stand in the hallway for a moment, blinking and staring at the door, as you are suddenly thrown into a new reality that you have to get used to. You mutter a series of curses under your breath as you go searching for... any clothes or shoes. The cold metal of the ship's floor and the dried blood in some places made walking around on your bare feet quite uncomfortable.

Feyd-Rautha was indeed psychopathic... but it was better for you to be the devil's right hand than his mistress. And it was certainly better to inhale the toxins of Giedi Prime than to smell the flowers from underneath your grave.

You find yourself in front of a door that you don't want to go through. But you know you have to do it if you want to remain free and independent of anyone. You couldn't escape now. Not before Feyd-Rautha. You had to pay the price of your freedom with someone else's freedom. And you were ruthless enough to do it without blinking an eye. Maybe the years of living with Harkonnen really made you one of them...

You knock and enter the cave of Feyd's three harpies.

As you might expect, they don't welcome you very warmly. As soon as you close the door behind you, you hear their hisses. They stop feasting on some Fremen and glare at you, slowly approaching you.

"Relax, ladies. I'm here... to make a small agreement." You announce, taking a seat in the only chair that, surprisingly, isn't covered in anyone's blood. The women look at each other distrustfully and approach the table where you are sitting.

"Agreement?"

"With a little witch?"

"We don't make any agreements with our meals; we simply eat them."

You don't flinch at their words. Instead, you nod and draw your dagger when they get too close to you. Two of them move away automatically, but one—the oldest of them—continues to look at you. You give her a cold and dispassionate glare as you play with the blade in your fingers.

"But that's exactly what I'm talking about. About... a food. A great meal. A feast you will remember for a long time, ladies." You try your best to sound encouraging.

Their eyes light up, interested as you meet a fresh meal. You know perfectly well that they haven't eaten anything... desirable for a long time. They probably had to drag the body of this miserable man to their chamber themselves since you didn't have time to... make sure they were fed. And if there's one thing you can get on Giedi Prime with something other than power and sex, it's food.

"The little witch is planning something…"

"The little witch is up to something interesting…"

"The little witch wants to do something against our master…"

You look at them unfazed as they read that you have no clear intentions at all when it comes to working with them. But anyone who managed to survive on Giedi Prime and Arrakis was surely a man whose conscience had gone a long time ago.

And maybe your plan wasn't good for everyone... but it was definitely good for you. And Feyd. He'll agree with you... or at least you hope so. You're still not sure if his obsession with you was just a passing whim or if he really wanted to keep you with him. But you didn't want to end up like his concubines and pets.

"Possibly... but isn't that what you want? For your master to give you his attention again instead of taking care of me?" This seems to interest them even more than the promise of food.

"What do you want, little witch?" The oldest harpy asks you, looking at you carefully. You give her a mischievous, sinister smirk.

'"Have you ever thought of feasting on the Baron?" Your question hangs in the room. The harpies watch you carefully, smiling slowly and showing a row of black teeth.

Nothing united women like a common enemy.

To be continued... Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x y/n #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd oneshot #house harkonnen #dune part 2 #oneshot #feyd supremacy #feyd smut #feyd rautha x bene gesserit reader #feyd imagine #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen x you #smut #dark romance #toxic behavior

[kneelingshadowsalome]

prefacing this by saying I have absolutely no information on this period of history, but Rome was sacked and ultimately destroyed by Germanic tribes.

And naturally, the first thing I thought of upon learning that was Invader!König X Roman Maiden!Reader. Similar to your story, I’m thinking he decides to take the Reader as a trophy of war similar to his comrades. You and plenty of other maidens are tied up, thrown across horseback or across shoulders, and dragged off back to Germania. Depending on how dark you want it, König could wait for his little prize to want his cock, or he could have no patience at all and fuck her as soon as he gets a chance. Of course, he’s still somewhat of a gentleman, he’ll make sure she enjoys it, but like it or not his cock’s going in her.

I think this is an opportunity to lean even further into the barbarian König idea, with varying levels of darkness.

Save me dark barbarian!König... 🖤💋

CW: dark content, noncon groping, noncon cuddling, fear of SA, König's idea of hot sex is problematic to say the least, reader's level of enthusiasm/consent is ambiguous

He doesn’t care about your delicate sensibilities or noble background, he’s here to bring your Empire down and your weak men to their knees. It’s about time someone burned Rome to the ground; no amount of foreign perfume can cover the smell of shit in these streets…

But he won’t say no to gold or jewels, they might some day decorate his future wife's neck and wrists perhaps. Neither will he ride homeward without a slave to keep him warm. He hasn’t had a woman in months, the only thing closest to a cunt has been his calloused fist and he’s grown tired of that, nothing can compare with the real deal so a soft little female is exactly what he needs to keep him company when he and his warriors return North.

Your options are either freezing to death or crawling inside this giant’s cloak when he holds it open for you come nightfall, the voyage to Germania bringing with it the first snow and cold winds straight from Hades. You have no option but to go to this man for some body heat, the low rumble in his chest resembling the pleased purr of some untamed beast as he envelops you in wool and a hungry embrace.

He never speaks to you, only talks with his hands that roam all over your body as you cling to him with clattering teeth. Examining the wideness of your hips, the plumpness of your ass and tits, he serves himself a handful and some pinches as if he’s sampling fruit at the marketplace. Rubs your nipples between the pad of his thumb and pointer until you flinch from pain, mutters something pleased when he sees your skittish reaction. He won’t allow you to pull away however, not when you’re finally here, so back to his arms you go as he crushes you against his chest.

He’s amused at your attempts to both huddle closer and squirm away: why are you being so difficult when clearly, you want this too?

He saw how you looked at him back there when he was drenched in blood, that’s the reason he chose you. You’re sweeter than an apple, didn’t even scream when he swept your hair from your face to have a better look at you, you only eyed him with challenge when he inspected your lips, waistline and hips. A scared female would have avoided his eyes and begged not to be killed or worse, but you only lifted your chin and spat on his face, practically begging to get fucked…

And now you’re acting like you don’t want his cock while at the same time, you continue to stare at him like a deer in heat. If you don’t want him to fuck you then you should stop making him hard, but in truth König is only glad that he chose you out of all women. The ride back home won’t be dull with a fiery fox woman like you, he has to be careful that he doesn’t get bitten and bruised… How his men would laugh in the morning if they found out that the vixen he stole has made him hers, little teeth marks decorating his skin and betraying everyone your claim.

He would only be proud of you if you did that; women are quite adorable when they have some fire in them. But make no mistake, he won’t let you go no matter how hard you act like you hate him… Everyone here knows you want to jump on his cock; had he decided to inspect your pussy too while covered in your husband’s blood, he could’ve bet all his fortune along with his horse that you were already wet for him.

He could take you right now on this cold, hard ground, try to see how long it takes to make you wet and pliant. The only thing really keeping him from doing so are his men, no doubt wanting to see how a Roman lady takes their giant leader's cock. But he’s not going to give them the satisfaction of seeing you naked, let alone watching him fuck you, he'd have to kill them all afterwards...

So he settles for making his naughty little slave warm, and both of you a little breathless. He can find a more discreet place for you tomorrow, order a break or two to ease the heaviness of his sacks, the aching hard ons he’s had ever since he saw you. He has to be careful not to break you, and remember to kiss you on your neck, he heard that that’s the key to make women wet and willing.

You seem so fragile and frail when you fall asleep, finally surrendering to him, your body yielding and molding against his. In the morning, you whimper sweetly when he squeezes your now warm, plush body, and plants kisses on your face, your neck. You have no idea that the warriors are already mocking him for “making you wait so long”, that he has listened to stupid jokes all morning with you securely tucked inside his cloak. You bite him when he tries to come too close, all the brutes around you burst to laughter as he howls from pain.

Not feeling at all sorry for him when he rubs his neck and looks at you with drowsy curiosity, you rise and spit again on the ground as if you had just tasted something vile. He can’t stifle his smile then, your idea of foreplay is much more fun than what he had in mind…

And you aren’t flung over his horse, but actually get to ride it with him, the arm around your middle like iron as he keeps you as close to him as possible. You don’t know that he’s reluctant to take an unwilling woman, and that this preference makes him the laughing stock of the group. Neither do you know that König has already pictured you inside his hut, baking bread and scolding children like the firebrand that you are, giving him a naughty little wrestle and a fistfight every night before bed... Shuddering from want like you do now on his horse as he exposes your breasts to the approaching winter.

You are about to faint as tiny snowflakes land on your nipples, melting instantly as this man starts to fondle your tits. Slumping against his blazing form, you can do nothing but accept your fate as the horse keeps walking and the men around you shout and whistle at the sight of your breasts. The rough barks of your captor quickly end their excitement upon seeing your exposed tits, the whistles stop and the men turn their eyes quickly away from you.

The man behind you is now perfectly content, riding in the crisp morning air while pawing your breast with one hand and holding the reins with the other, his groin grinding against you with the movements of the horse, making it clear that he might soon stop this torture altogether and take you to the nearby woods for a quick fuck…

#barbarian!könig #dark content #spoils of war #historical au #tw: slavery #tw: dark themes #cw: dark content

[crowcravesmore]

Dead Girl Walkin' (Frank Castle x F!Reader)

AKA 'Bounty & Bliss'

Frank Castle x F!Reader (18+)

+ After a mission gone wrong, you end up on the wrong side of Fisks gun, and now you're a wanted woman. You have 30 hours of freedom before every bounty hunter in New York has his eyes on you, so of course you run straight to Frank. Oh how he loves the sight of you.

Word Count: 5.1k ( It's actually impossible for me to write a "short" fic. I'm a wordy bitch, I can't help it. I love to talk.)

Warnings: Cursing, violence, reader getting beat tf up (She's got powers it's fine), explicit content/smut, Frank being such a softie for you, fluff (is that a warning?).

A/N: LETS GO FRANK CASTLE LOVERS! I absolutely adore this man, and I think it shows in how I write him. This is an oldie from my previous blog, but it's one of my favorite fics I've ever written. It's a long one so buckle up. (This fic was absolutely based on the song Dead Girl walking from Heathers the musical. Take that as you will.)

+ + +

It was an absolute fact that you weren't gonna die a peaceful death. Yeah no, you were gonna go out one of two different ways. One, a Bruce Willis, Die Hard type thing with at least two explosions. Or two, someone else is gonna punch your card for you. Full stop. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, that's it. 

Frank threw a guess in once. Said you’d probably go out saving a bunch’a kids from a burning building or something, because you're a soft ass like that, Sunshine, that’s why. He was three stitches deep on his right arm, and shooting you looks from his side of the couch. Ain’t that right, Sunshine?

Nope. nuh-uh, not even close. You get a grand total of thirty hours, all Courtesy of Mr. Kingpin himself. Fisk. What kind of name is Fisk anyway? It sounds too much like Fist, or fish, either way it’s awkward. You’re just being pissy, because you got caught, and Fisk is rubbing it in your face. 

Third punch is to your jaw, and that’s the one that knocks you, and the chair you're strapped to, back. You’re taking this whole thing in stride, you haven't passed out or anything. Be proud of that. After the fourth punch Fisk finally waves his hand and lets— what's his name? Rick? This guy looks like a Rick —stop. You ever been hit with brass knuckles by a heavyweight? It sucks. 

You were hired by an unnamed client to sneak into Fisks club, and put mics anywhere you could. It was easy getting in without being noticed, unfortunately for you Fisk has eyes everywhere. Fortunately for you one of your powers is strength, so a couple of blows by a heavyweight won't kill you. It fucking hurts though. 

Fisk says something, but he’s standing on the other side of the room and your ears are still ringing, so he really says nothing. He turns, catches your eyes, and there's a curious sort of smile on his face. Your ears are still ringing but, over all of the noise, you catch him say ‘Again’, and brace yourself for impact. 

Rick, son of a bitch, knocks you hard, just under your eye and you can practically hear the bruise forming. You must’ve blacked out for a second because when you blink there’s Fisk, dropped to his haunches in front of you. It takes thirty seconds after you start drooling blood for him to start back up. 

“You’re a real woman, you know that?” 

“And what does that make you?” Your voice doesn't even sound like you, it’s too scratchy, and your words are hard to make out. 

Fisk sort of ignores you and says,“And Because I'm a nice guy,” Pulling a white handkerchief—Christ—out of his shirt pocket and wiping your mouth. “I'm gonna make this easy on you, how bout’ forty eight hours? Sound good?” 

You’re so stubborn. Like, way too stubborn for your own good, that’s what you’re gonna tell Frank when you explain why you spit your blood in Fisks face. And because you’re a real woman. 

“Thirty hours,” Fisk says, gripping the bottom half of your shirt, using it to wipe his face, and standing up. “Butch,—” So that’s his name, he looks like a Butch. “Show her the door.” 

Brace for impact. 

You can't be that mad though, I mean come on. After that stunt you pulled at the Quagmire tonight you’re surprised you’re even still walking-uh -running. So yeah, thirty hours and after that you’re gonna be a goddamn beacon of come get me for every baddie in New York. Okay, you gotta stop running or else you’re gonna pull something, and catching a cramp probably isn’t the best thing for you right now...just sayin’. 

You pitch from a sprint to a light jog and eventually stop, bowing over and pressing your hands to your knees. A long groan crawls out of you, and you shake your head. The middle of 10th and 42nd isn’t the place to let it hit you. Clear your throat, spit, stand back up, keep walking. 

You decide to swerve out of the road and onto the sidewalk, that way you’re not ass out for everyone to see. And it’s a helluva sight. You’ve got a bruise forming just under your right eye and your nose is busted to shit, not to mention the blood- that you’re not even sure is all yours- caked over you. All that and you probably smell like a back alley. 

You shift and adjust, turn right toward the dock, and pick up the pace. 

‘I can run,’ you think, digging your thumbnail into your palm. ‘haul ass to Seattle, become some poor fisherman's wife.’  

That doesn't sound all too bad, besides the fact that Fisk has got eyes all over this goddamn city. You so much as even look toward the bridge and his thirty hours-oh-mercy are gone. Poof! You won't even make it out of New York.

A street light flicks off for a second before coming back to life, and you dig in your back pocket, fishing for your phone. It’s a mess of cracks and smeared blood, but still manageable. You click it on and the screen gives a few half assed flashes of light before turning on. Yeah, still manageable. 

You wipe the screen against your shirt and pull it back, checking the time. Twelve oh five. Good, he's still up. 

•

Frank's van is static under the west bridge, just next to the pier. It’s a beige camper he’s had since way back when, and is still too sentimental to give up. It’s rusted, a hubcaps gone missing, and the battery is standing on it’s last leg, but don’t ever tell Frank it’s anything less than perfect.  Seriously, buddy, don't do it. 

You called it a piece of junk once, something mumbled between Frank trying to turn the engine over and almost flooding it. 

“If you don’t like it that much, Sunshine, you can walk back.” He shakes his head and turns the key over again. The engine makes an almost awkward sort of noise. Something like a cr-r-r-eek! Before gray smoke creeps its way from under the hood. “God fucking damnit.” 

You're ninety percent sure the only reason he didn't knock your head through the window is because he's got a soft spot for you....Eighty-five percent. 

Your boot knocks against an empty can, probably oil, and Max pokes his head up. He's lying right outside the van's side door, tucked halfway under it with his head on his paws. You go still and try to remember if this dog actually liked you or not. 

When he doesn’t move you chalk it up to a definite maybe, and start walking again. He lets out a few half assed growls before crawling from under the van and barking, loud and proud. You throw caution out the window and speed walk toward him, forgetting the fact that he’s a full grown pitbull, and wave your hands in front of you, shh shh shh! No, doggy. Nice, Max! You got a million different scenarios playing in your head, and none of them are good. 

Max is howling now, nose pointed to the sky and oh sonofabitch.

You hear a gun cock over your head and now you're staring down the barrel of a shotgun. This was the fourth scenario. At the end of that is Frank, standing in a pair of raggedy sweatpants, an old NYU tee, and-Christ he's not even wearing any shoes. 

You're still a little wobbly in the legs so you press your hand against the doorframe, and lean. That's it. Play it cool, nice and steady. 

“Hey, Frank.” You say, and then. “Can I come in?” You're batting against four hours of sleep and maybe a concussion, so hey, frank is the best you're gonna do. 

His shoulders slump down and he points the gun away from you, eyes moving three speeds too fast. Like I said earlier, you’re a helluva sight, girl. 

“You look like the back end of hell.” He says, side stepping to let you in, eyes catching on your knuckles. They aren’t the worst of it, but you can tell a lot about a person from their hands, and Frank’s getting the whole goddamn story. 

You step up into the kitchen—living room?—and focus on everything you’ve already seen before. The sketchy stain on the ceiling, the empty Budweiser cans, your feet. Just for good measure you pick up a roll of gauze and turn it over in your hand, because this is the most interesting thing in the world, not your bloody knuckles. And definitely not Frank who’s staring down your back, shooting imaginary laser beams your way. Pew pew pew.  I’m calling it now, he’s gonna get mad. You know it, I know it, so just fucking face the music before he- 

“So,” oh-Kay. He clicks the third deadbolt, and leans his back against the door, gun cocked on the wall, and arms crossed over his chest. “You gonna tell me what happened or am I gonna haveta’ guess?” 

He doesn't have to guess, because he already knows. But, he's gonna lean back and give you a chance to say it before he starts pulling teeth. 

“This was once in a lifetime, Frank.” You're pushing out excuses and he's barely said anything. “There was an opening-” 

“Y/n, what the hell did you do?” 

Franks more worried than actually confused. He knows you're in some deep-I'm talking chasm into hell deep- shit, he's just worried he's not gonna be able to pull you out. 

“I went to the Quagmire, and Fisk was there.” You wring your hands because of the look he gives you. Priceless. “I had a shot, I took it, I—” 

“Tell me you killed him.” He's shaking his head, tilt up, and looking at the roof. He's about to start praying, and lord knows he hasn't done that in a while. “Tell me you killed him, Y/n.” 

The throbbing behind your eye is enough to remind you that no, you didn't. You came damn close though, I'll give you that. 

Frank blinks, slow squeeze, and groans something low in the back of his throat. He drops his head and drags a hand down his jaw, you're gonna be the death of him if you keep this shit up. 

“And,” you gotta get it out now, if you don't do it now you're gonna hate doing it later. “I got a bounty on me.” 

“Course you do,” he's looking at you again, but his foot is tapping against the linoleum, so he's beyond mad now. “Is it active?” 

You shake your head. “No, I got thirty hours.” You would have forty eight, but he doesn't need to know that...or why you don't anymore. 

“Shiiit,” he almost laughs. “Bastard gave you a helluva’ lot more time than me.” His eyebrows tilt down and you catch the way his eyes track along your knuckles. You're standing in front of him, and in this light he can finally get a good look at you. And he doesn't like it. “What'd they do to you, Sunshine?” 

There it is. You let out a halfhearted dry laugh and say. “Butch, son of a bitch has a solid right hook.” 

“I bet I got better,” He says, lips upturning a bit. 

You say. “Oh, I know you do.” And that's it, you're both drawn back into a moment that definitely shouldn't happen. Christ, girl, the man's a vigilante with a truckload of baggage. Stay away. Don't do it to yourself. 

You gotta dodge this shit, so you say. “So, what do I do now?” 

He gives you a quick once over and pushes himself off the wall. “First, you gotta take a shower, get your mind right.” He stalks over to the hall closet, and starts pulling out random things; a towel, a washcloth, sweatpants, and one of his Rolling Stones T-shirts. He tosses a Then we'll talk, and figure out our next move. over his shoulder and that knocks you back a minute. 

Our. Don't dwell on that. Nope, nope, do not do it. You nod, walk over to him, and say. “Thank you, Franky.” Franky’s something only you’d get away with saying, just like he gets away with the whole sunshine thing. It’s weird, you’re weird, leave it alone.

When you reach him he pulls back, giving you this half look between you really okay? and it's okay if you're not. Oh, God, he's gonna have your eyes in the shape of hearts if he keeps this up. 

“I'm fine,” You reach a bit more, and he meets you halfway, pushing everything towards you. “You better have hot water though.” 

“Baby, you know I do.” 

“Mhm, that's what you said last time.” 

He says. “Just tell me if it's not hot enough for you, I'll fix it.” And you're positive it's borderline flirty. You gotta occupy yourself with turning on the bathroom light, or else he's gonna see fuuuck written all over your face. 

You gotta say something back or it's gonna be one sided, and awkward so you push out. “I'll call you if I need you, Franky.” Low and slow.

Did you just? 

Franks mouth pulls up into a grin and he's gotta wipe his hand over his cheek, as if he's just feeling the stubble. Look what you did, you're making him nervous. 

Before either of you have a chance to react, the door’s closed and you're pressing your back against it. If you didn't know any better you'd think the man was making a move, but you've got a migraine from hell so you're gonna chalk it up to friendly banter. 

You're gonna opt for a cold shower though, just in case. 

•

The shower does wonders for you. Your regenerative powers help too, giving your body the chance to heal a bit under the water. You walk out dressed and unstressed with your clothes balled up in your arms, just about to call out Franks name when you hear him say. “Back here.” 

You turn and walk into the small bedroom space, just big enough for the two of you. He's laying on his back with his arm thrown over his eyes, looking like absolute sin. Okay, yeah, you're cut off from reading tacky romance novels. 

“You can just put your stuff on the table, we'll get em’ washed tomorrow.” He sounds tired. 

You walk to the kitchenette table and drop your clothes on top of it, before walking back to the room and saying. “Or we could just get my clothes from my apartment, that's a pretty good idea.” 

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “We could, and, you know what, why don't we go to the police station while we're at it and tell them about the bad man named Fisk?” 

“What?” 

“Oh, sorry, I thought we were stating dumb ideas.” He says nonchalantly, before adding. “You and I both know that it's not safe for you to go to your place, or else you wouldn't be here, right?” 

He lifts his arm off of his face and looks at you. Yeah, right. You nod and he nods back, covering his face up again. “Right.”

Truth be told, you'd probably still be here even if it was safe. Truthfully. 

You crawl onto the bed next to him and the springs groan out something light and metallic. Lay down, face up, be quiet. 

“Y/n.” That's not quiet.

“Hm?” 

“You're not doin’ this alone,” Okay. You turn your head to look at him but he's still got his arm over his eyes. “Not while there's air in my lungs.”

You say, “It's not your fight.” And Frank finally looks at you. His brows tip and he props himself up on one arm so he's leaning over you a bit. 

“Hell it's not, you think Ima’ just let that bastard have at you? Nuh-uh,” He shakes his head. “Sorry to disappoint, but that's not how this works.”

“Then how does this work?” You're not mad, just curious. If this is going where you think it's going, God willing, Frank’s gonna be the one starting it. 

He's the one with the brick walls here, so you're gonna let him be the first to break them down. 

His eyes drop to your lips and roll over the curve of your jaw. It's sharp and soft at the same time, just like the rest of you. You shift, catch his eyes, and his sight slips off to the wall. 

“I, uh.” he rolls onto his back and clasp his hands on his stomach. You're making him nervous and he's the one doing all the work. Jeesus, one of you do something. This is embarrassing. 

“I don't wanna die.” What? You-pfsshhh. Yeah, okay, start there. 

Frank has to blink that in, but he's still too chicken shit right now to look at you. So he asks. “Why not?” 

For the love of God. 

“Why not?” You repeat, frowning at the ceiling. Frank squeezes his eyes closed and shakes his head, backtrack. 

“No, not-” He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand and gives himself a second to get it. He doesn't, so he just nods and says. “Yeah, okay why not? Why don't you?” 

You sit up and turn to look at him. He's circulating between frowning at you, and the ceiling, and the door, so when his eyes hit you on their third rotation you say. “I don't wanna die, because I'm not ready yet.” Simple. 

“Says the girl who went all Annie Oakley on a mob boss tonight.” 

“It was his henchmen-”

“-henchmen?”

“-and that's not the point.” You ignore him. “The point is I'm scared. I thought I could do it tonight, but I didn't and now look at me.” 

He does. In the weak light from his bedside lamp he can see all of you. The bruise forming (and healing) under your eye, and on the bridge of your nose. The scratch along your neck that dips just below the collar of your-his shirt. It's a lot. You're a lot. 

He shifts and pushes himself up a bit before opening his arms. “Come here.” 

Then your head is pressed against his chest, with your hand resting on his abdomen. Fingers curled in. You can hear his heart beating, thu-thump. Thu-thump. 

His arm wraps around you and you can feel his fingers brush against the middle of your back, right at the dip. A train's horn blares in the distance and suddenly you feel really mortal. 

This is it, Kid. 

You've finally hit fuck it, because now you're lifting up and kissing Frank Castle. You half expect him to push you off, but nope, his hand pushes straight to your hips, your shirt hitching up around his forearm. 

There's no awkward is this okay kisses, nope, you're both just diving for it. You push your hand up to his shoulder and-oh okay, yeah you do that- slide your leg over him, so you're halfway straddling him at least. 

You push both of your hands to his neck, thumbs pressed against his jaw, and lean in. It's an awkward approach, something he wasn't exactly ready for this time because your teeth collide, and you're about to pull back and apologize when he reaches down and grips your ass. 

Oh-Kay. He tugs you back up toward him and this time you're both ready. Especially you, because your tongue dips into Frank's mouth and he's just here for it. 

After a while of just that, you lift up and press your hands against his chest. His other hand scoots up to your hip, and he starts rubbing up and down your thighs. 

“Y/n-” 

“Hold on.” You scoot so you're really on top of him and sit back a bit, feeling him rub against your clit. He lets out a sharp exhale of a groan and you lift up, before sitting back again and grinding against him. Frank tugs off his shirt and you follow suit, pulling yours up and over your head before tossing it off to the side, and Frank is on you. 

You’re not wearing a bra, so he just dips his head down to lick your nipple into his mouth. He reaches up to gather your other breast in his hand, and you bring your hands up to his shoulders just to hold onto something. You bury your face in his hair, shift, and kiss along his head. 

Frank starts peppering sloppy kisses across your chest before biting down on your other nipple. 

“Shit,” you whisper. “Frank.” 

“Mhm,” He’s got a vice grip on your hips, and then he’s bucking up into you. Slow and steady, and meticulous, and—Jeesus. His tongue swirls and bites, and you’re tilting your head back. Eye’s closed just feeling him. 

Okay, you gotta-hold on. You push against Franks shoulders and his mouth comes off of you with an almost obscene pop. He starts to ask what’s wrong when you dip your head down and catch his mouth against yours. It’s slow and nasty and good, something almost too sensual to be Frank, but it is. It’s just you and him. 

He mumbles. “Com’on.” Against your lips and rolls you over so he’s pressed on top of you. You’re rubbing your hands up his arms and over his shoulders when he —oh Christ, okay—reaches up to grab each of your wrist pinning them over your head. This is more of what you expected, you’re not gonna stop him though. 

He peppers kisses along your jaw and down to your neck, before sucking. 

“Fra-ank.” God you’re whiney right now, and Franks sucking hickies into your neck, so who the hell cares? 

“What’s wrong, Baby?” Frank is an A-1 goddamn tease. Before you can get an answer out he pushes against you. Languid downward rolls of his hips, catching against you and pushing your body up juuust a bit with each thrust. “Hm?” 

Your mouths open in an ‘O’ shape, and you’re positive you're not gonna be able to make clear sentences, so you lock your ankles behind him and drag him closer to you. He groans out a breathy ah, shit and pulls his head back up to kiss you again. When he lets your arms go he’s quick to get back on you, sucking and biting his way down your body, and you’re still too dazed to really get what’s happening until he says. 

“Y/n.” 

He’s sitting up, leaning back a bit onto his legs, with his hands resting on your hips. You prop yourself up on your forearms. “Yes?” 

His mouth tips up into a half smile and he says. “I said you gotta lift up,” His fingers tap the waistband of your sweatpants. Oh, yeah, okay. You lift up your hips and he starts tugging your pants down, fingers hooked in your panties too. You lift up your legs and then he’s got everything up and off of you. 

He settles back down, onto his stomach, with his head between your legs and looks up at you. You’re still propped up onto his shoulders, and you’ve got a pretty damn good view of him. He dips his head down and starts kissing along your thighs, and again it's strangely intimate for him. Out of your peripheral you catch a car's headlights move past the window, and you think to say something when you feel Frank slide his hands to the back of your knees and fold your legs back on either side of you towards the bed. 

You feel him blow cool air against you and you gotta take deep breaths. Scoot, shift, and his face is right between the junction of your thighs. Your hand is in his hair when he drags his tongue up your pussy and over your clit. Your head hits the pillow and you push your other hand into the other one next to you. Gripping. 

“Frank,” You breathe for no reason other than it’s just him. “Oh, God, Frank.” 

He moans into you and that’s enough to get your back arching a bit. He starts in earnest, jumping between circling your clit, and looong strokes up your vulva. You start to wonder if he’s spelling his name down there, when he pushes his tongue aaaalll the way in until his face is practically buried inside of you. His tongue is pressed flat against your labia and then he’s licking inside you. There’s a pause while you gasp out a ‘Fra-a-ank’, before he starts tongue fucking you.  You’re not sure what your sound limit is here so you’re doing your best to keep it to a minimum. Rotating between a string of Oh god, Yes, fuck, and Fraa-aank-just to be safe. 

And then he plants his mouth over your clit and sucks, pushing a finger inside of you. Your back is almost full rainbow, pushing your head into the pillow, and your moaning out a loud. “Ooooh, fuck, Frank!” 

He hums, and, without missing a beat, his tongue starts circling your clit, and he adds a second finger. Languid and intinse. Faster, tighter, you’re really pushing the sound limit here. He’s still working you to the edge, but has enough time to say. “Come on, Y/n. Come in my mouth, baby.”

You groan. “Oh shit,” But he pulls his fingers back a bit, curve, and he’s finger fucking you against your G-spot. He’s an angel. 

You’re loud. Like-you’re voice is probably gonna be strained in the morning- loud. Frank pumps into you, tongue circling tightly, and gets just a little rougher with it. “Ah, fuck, Frank. Please-God-please…” He latches his lips around your clit and sucks, and it's gotta be biblical the amount of times you’ve said God’s name tonight. He presses against your legs and tucks his fingers, moans against you. Your jaw drops and you squeeze your eyes shut, pushing your other hand down to the back of Frank's head and pulling his face into you. 

A strain of ecstasy pushes its way through you and you just can’t get out fast enough. “Frank-frank, oh GOD AAaaahhh!!” Your chest has a slow rise and fall to it, and Frank is back to being sensual. Kissing around your still sensitive clit and up your thighs. He lets go of your leg and pushes both of his hands onto your hips, you can feel your wetness on his fingers. 

He pulls himself on top of you and this kiss is rougher, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. He props himself up onto his forearm and reaches down to push off his sweatpants, throwing them off to the side with the rest of his clothes. 

“You ready?” His voice is wrecked, something you’re really not used to hearing from Frank. You think, and push up on his shoulders before wrapping your leg around his hip and rolling so you’re on top. Franks got this dazed smile on his face, and lord he is cute. Really, Frank Castle is cute. 

He grabs onto your waist and lifts you up with almost ridiculous ease, before shifting his eyes down and watching as you wrap your hand around his dick and slowly guide yourself down onto him. 

You press your hands against his chest and raise up, just to grind back down, and Franks gotta focus on his breathing or else he’s gonna cum way too fast. 

You go like that for a while, a slow and steady rock, but Frank’s been sporting a hard on since you laid next to him so he’s not as patient as he could be. He adjusts his grip on your waist, hikes his legs up so he’s digging his heels into the mattress, “You ready, baby?” and starts to buck up into you. And you thought you were leading the show. 

You’re panting out little ah’s with each thrust, and you gotta brace your hand on the headboard for some kinda leverage. Frank pulls you down onto his chest and kisses you full, mumbling a string of “You like that? Huh? Ah, fuck.” against you, before wrapping his arm around your waist. You grind down and meet each of his thrust and he’s done for. He pushes his face into your neck as he starts pistoning into you, lips mouthing at your neck. His thrust start getting sloppy, uncoordinated, and he moans out. “Com’on, Y/n.” Before reaching down and circling your clit. 

And it's building and building and you rasp out. “Frank, I—”

He bites down on your shoulder and Oh, okay, yes that. You dig your nails into his shoulder and he’s forcing every ounce of himself not to scream. “Y/n!” Low and breathy. He still does. His hips stutter as he cums, and you pick up your pace, fucking him through it. His hips eventually stutter and he bucks a couple of times before sighing into your neck, spent. 

You both just stay like that for a while. Breathing in each other, enjoying the come down. You can’t help but let your mind drift to thoughts of Frank outside of this. Domesticated, and lovely. He just came inside of you, so the idea of having his kids passes through briefly. You’ll deal with that tomorrow. He coaxes you off of him and onto the bed, sliding the sheets onto the both of you. Sliding his arm under your back he pulls you into his side and closes his eyes. You rest your head against his chest, hyper aware of how intimate this is. Neither of you are sure whether or not you should dwell on that or not. 

He, Christ, reaches down and plants a kiss on your forehead before laying back and saying. “You’re not getting your card punched, not while I’m still here.” 

Does he know what he’s doing to you? You just nod, because you’re not really sure if you believe him or not, and he sees that. 

“Hey,” He says, nudging you a bit. You sit up and look at him, and he’s got this look in his eyes. Something like worry, and hope, and so much love for you it almost breaks your heart. “I’m serious, I’m not letting him or any a’ them get to you.” 

You’re the closest thing this man has got to a friend, hell even a family, so yeah. You believe him. You nod and lean up to kiss him, before laying your head back onto his chest. 

Thirty hours.

+

A/N: I'm actually obsessed with this man. Y'all please leave comments letting me know if you liked this / what you think. I wanna hear back from you! Have a great day, beautiful.

#I love writing so much what a great outlet #frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x female reader #frank castle fluff #the punisher #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #kash writes

[nymphoheretic]

Just the tip

Nymph: I'm fucking weak for them.

Synopsis: You learn just how much is really "just the tip" with the clones.

Warnings: praise, teasing, degradation, implied anal (on Sekido’s part), vaginal penetration, knotting, biting, blood play/kink, somno (on Urogi’s part), teasing, squirting, wing play, cervix fucking, breeding/creampie.

Word count: 2.4k(fucking help!)

Pairing: Aizetsu x fem!reader, Sekido x fem!reader, Karaku x fem!reader, Urogi x fem!reader

Netowork: @enchantedforest-network

Sekido doesn’t believe in “Just the tip” and why should he? You’re his plaything.

You should have tried harder to stop Karaku and Aizestu from having their way with you. You knew that if Sekido got his hands on you, you would be punished for something that you literally could not stop. You belong to them and there was no way you could ever tell any of them “no.” The word had been trained out of you.

The first thing Sekido had done was to bend you over his knee, the thin kimono you wore did nothing to stop the pain of his palm striking you. This was your punishment for being a needy whore. Karaku had told you that they all could feel when they fucked you. Being made up of the same cells of the Upper Moon demon, Hantengu, it was inevitable. 

Feeling his large hands slide the material of your short kimono up over your hips, Sekido welts your bare ass with a series of quick smacks, each one causing the skin to heat up until it felt like it is raw. Your cunt clenched around nothing as your slick began to pool and bubble at your entrance as low moans left your throat.

“You’re such a slut. Aren’t you the once proud Demon slayer who was supposed to kill us. Yet look at you, drooling over my lap like a fucking dog.” The light “Hn” that leaves his throat as he lightly traces his claws over the angry looking marks on your ass before he grabs your wrists and pulls you off of him. “Get on the bed, face away from me on your hands and knees. You want to drool like a bitch in heat, I will breed you like one.”

-0-0-0

You feel hot tears roll down your face from the brutal thrusts that Sekido was giving your already sore cunt. How long has it been since he snatched you from Aizetsu’s room when the gentle clone left to gather food for you. How long has it been since he slots his hips against yours and bullies his fat cock inside your hole?

“Sekido, please? The others can feel you.” You cried out when he slaps his fingers against your sensitive clit before rubbing rough circles on it. “Sekido, it was only supposed to be the ti–” Your words are cut off as he wraps his hand around your throat, his thumb applying just enough pressure to silence you.

“Shut up or I’ll fucking shock you into submission.” He growls, hips never slowing as he grits his fangs to stop himself from burying them into your pulse point. He knew that you had to know just how jealous he was that his counterparts enjoyed your body without him. His hand was never good enough. It wasn't as soft, warm or wet as your pussy. 

You really piss him off. Walking around in that short little kimono Karaku had gotten for you. Your sweet scent invades his senses and makes him rock hard beneath his own robe. Sekido wanted you all for himself, but he knew that he had to share you. But right now, in this moment, you were his fucking toy. His cumslut. His plaything. And he would not let anyone else take you. He didn't care if the others could feel him as he stroked so fucking deep. 

"Let them fucking feel as you soak my cock like the needy slut you are for me." Sekido snarls, the rapid gooey wet pat-pat-pat  of his cock sliding through your swollen cum filled walls fills the air around you two. Placing his hand on your lower back, he forces you to arch deeper for him as he speeds up even more, relishing in the screams of pleasure you let out.

“S’ too much, ‘kido. Pul...” you stammer out, thighs trembling and arms threatening to give out. “Please, m’sorry.” 

Sekido leans over your back, his lips to your ear. “You’re sorry? No, but you fucking will be.” Fangs bite down into your pulse point, skin breaking under the pressure of his jaws as warm blood trickled over his tongue. The low moan of pain you gave only made him lock his jaws more tightly on the spot where your neck and shoulder met. Blood pools in his mouth, the sweet elixir tasting like the finest of alcohol to the demon as he swallows. “Fucking sweet.” 

Drunk off the taste of your blood, Sekido gently tongues the puncture wounds, sealing them shut with his saliva before trailing the tip of his tongue down your shoulder blade to your spine. He licks a wet line down your back, lapping up the droplets of sweat that forms there. A low pleased grunt leaves his throat as a smile curls at his lips. The salty taste of your skin mixes so well with the metallic flavor of your sweet blood. Sekido almost wanted to eat you alive.

And he did.

Pulling out, his cock glistening with your slick juices. He continues to slide his tongue down your spine over the roundness of your ass before grabbing each cheek in his hands. “Just fucking look at you. All wet and messy. Only a nasty slut like you would want a demon like me to fuck you like this.” He slips two of his fingers down your soaked slit, gathering some of it. Sekido's Kanji tattooed tongue slips out as he places the pads of his fingers against it. “Mmmm...”

Sekido’s hands spread your ass and he stares at your twitching holes. “I fucking wish you could see the way your slutty holes are twitching – begging to be filled.” He traces his thumb over the tight puckered hole of your ass. The claws of his other hand digs into your ass cheeks when you flinch, trying to move away from his touch. “Don’t you fucking pull away from me, nasty whore. Your body is mine to play with however I please.”

Pushing his thumb in deeper, slipping past the first layer of tight muscles, he lowers his face to your dripping cunt. “You should feel lucky that I‘m willing to do this for a slut like you.”  His tongue glides through your slick folds, tasting you. The smile that spreads over his lips as he hears your saccharine cries as he fucks you on his long tongue. It was laughable that you, a former slayer, was now reduced to being the whore of the Upper Moon Four. 

Your thighs tremble as you feel him suck on your clit as he pushes his thumb even deeper into your tight hole, making your back arche even further. Broken cries of his name fall from your lips as your arms threaten to give out from underneath you. “‘Kido, please...I ca–”

Sekido pulls away and replaces his tongue with two of his fingers, alternating the thrusts of the two in your cunt and his thumb in your ass. “If you finish that sentence, I will show you no fucking mercy.” His smile widens, the absolute lovesick look on his face as he watch as you twitch from his finger fucking. “You gonna cum like the whore you’re trained to be? Or should I keep you right there on that edge?” 

“Hah~ Please, ‘kido. ‘m sorry. Mercy.” You plead even though you knew that the demon would do no such thing. He was jealous even if he would never truly admit it. Rocking your hips back you try to seek out your orgasm, whimpering when he pulls them away just as your walls quiver around his fingers.

“I didn’t say you could cum, yet.” he hovers over your back, the thick tip of his cock brushing over that tight inviting asshole of yours. He wanted to slide home inside it and fuck you until you didn’t remember your own name, until you learn that only his cock could satisfy you the best. Sekido pushes against the rim of your hole. “Should I fuck this hole?” His hands spread your cheeks further as he lines the tip up.

You bite your lip as a whine builds up in your throat, your eyes shining wetly with tears. You hated when he teased you because it was something he rarely ever did. That was more of a Karaku or Urogi thing. “Sekido...please? I need it.” You pant as your brain went fuzzy from want and need, “Please, daddy.”

Sekido pauses as his eyes widen. What did you just call him? He leans over your back, lips to your ear as his hand tangles in your hair. “What was that?” His tongue pets the lobe of your ear, hot breath fanning out over it and making you shiver involuntary. When you repeat yourself in a shaky tone, his lips spread into a feral grin. “Have you called anyone else that? Or...” He fists his cock in his hand, rubbing the tip through your creamy folds. “Am I the first?”

“Just you.” Before you could finish that sentence, Sekido pushes the thick length of his dick back inside your pussy, bottoming out in one rough thrust. “Fuck! Sekido!”

A dark chuckle leaves him as he bites down on your shoulder once more, marking you – claiming you as his. “That’s not my name right now, slayer. I’m your fucking daddy.” The slick sounds of your pussy clinging to his cock as he pulls out, looking down to see it covered in a thin layer of cream. “You should see the way this slutty pussy is creaming on my cock. You’re such a naughty little bitch for your daddy, huh?”

You arch your back further for him, moaning as you desperately rock your hips back against each heavy thrust. “Ahn~” Your moans fill the room mixing with the wet pat-pat-pat of skin meeting skin. You try to look at him over your shoulder, show him the lustful glow in your eyes as you moan out, “More, daddy, need more.” But he was quick to wrap his fingers around the back of your neck and push your face down into the pillows.

“Daddy didn’t give you permission to look at him.” Sekido growls. He’d be damned if he’d let you see the way his thick hair was disheveled, framing his face in waves as his fangs were grit as tiny rivers of drool seeps down his lips. Or see the way his vermillion eyes glow with a lovesick light. He snaps his hips against yours, the thick tip bullying its way against your cervix – battering it with brutal thrusts. “Ha~ You feel so good around daddy’s cock.”

You mewl as the only thing you could do was surrender to the harsh pounding Sekido was giving you. You chant out the name he wanted you to use repeatedly. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. You screamed it until your throat was raw. But then something felt off. Like he was swelling inside you and not in the typical way when he was about to cum. “D-Daddy, are you...?” You could feel the thick breeding knot pressing against your entrance, stretching its way inside.

Sekido pants as he works the large swollen knot past that tight ring of muscles of your tiny hole. “Fuck, you’re such a tight bitch. Even after Karaku and Aizetsu have bred you. Such a pathetic excuse for a human. You’re just a cumslut for me, aren’t you?” His eyes narrow when you didn’t answer him. Crack! A heavy palm strikes at the rounded flesh of your ass. “Answer me. What are you, human?”

“‘m just a cumslut for you, daddy!” You cry out, feeling the thick breeding knot slip inside you to rub against your walls. The stretch burns. Sekido was big. Almost too big for your tiny body. Your arms were shaking, trembling as drool seeps out of the corner of your lips. Feeling your clit twitch with the need to be touched you let out a whine. “Please, need to cum. Need you to touch me?”

Another grin tilts at his lips, the short “Hn" that leaves him as he leans over your back, “You need me? A Demon Slayer needing the touch of a demon to cum? How low can you fucking get, slut?” But even as his harsh words left his mouth, the hand that was pressing your face into the pillow slips between your legs – two rough fingers flicking over your puffy little clit. “Go on, cum for me. Cum for me like the dirty whore you are.”

A gargled cry leaves yoour throat when he finally touches your neglected bundle of nerves. Your body jolts as a small stream of hot liquid drips out of you as your arms give out – all strength in them gone. “Fuck...” You whimper out as the new position allows him to slide even deeper, the swollen flesh of his knot rubbing against your silken walls.

Sekido hand tightens around your waist as he pulls you back even further on his cock, the thic ushroomed tip battering your cervix, almost fucking into your womb. “Hah~ Only an easy bitch like you would squirt like that for a demon. Now, the question is: Do you deserve my cum inside this sluty pussy. You’ve already been filled by Karaku and Aizestu...”

“Please, daddy!” You shout, tears of pleasure soaking the pillow along with strings of your saliva. “I want you to cum inside. I need it, please?”

Your words went straight to his dick as his knot swells even further, creating a plug as his heavy balls draw up as they release his cum deep into your womb. Sekido thrusts into you once more until his tie prevents him from moving. “Look at you, crying and begging for daddy to knot and breed you like the bitch in heat you are.” He gathers you in his arms and lays on his side. “You’re so pathetic, human. But you’re my pathetic human.”

You let out a sigh when Sekido began licking at the sweat that forms on your skin as his hands move to cup your breasts. You knew that this was his form of aftercare. “Mmmm, Sekido...”

“Sleep, slayer.” He grumbles out, his voice devoid of any malice or rage. “You’ll need it.”  Sekido would make sure that he would be the last thing on your mind when you fall asleep and the first when you wake up. And what Sekido wants, Sekido gets. He may share you with his counterparts, but he wants to keep you to himself when it is his time alone with you. He had to make sure that it was his cum that was the thickest, the warmest, the first and last thing that fills you up every single day.

©️2022-23 nymphoheretic - I do not give permission to copy, edit, alter, or distribute my work. Do not adverse on tiktok. Do not repost on any other platform.

#nymphomanic♡ #kny smut #kny sekido #sekido x reader #sekido smut #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #hantengu x reader #kny hantengu #hantengu clones #sekido x you #kny x reader #kny x you #kny x y/n

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

We'll give it a shot

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 30/31

Prompt: New year's resolutions

Rated: G

CW: aftermath of injury; aftermath of trauma

Tags: Established relationship; recovery; fluff

Notes: Continued from days 3 and 18 - @house-of-the-moving-image and I just wanted them to be happy after all we put them through. 😭❤️

Steve has always been all movement, all fluid grace, for as long as Eddie remembers. On the pitch, in the pool. Shielding others with his own body, his strength. He was proud of this. It was the one thing he knew he was good at.

And then Vecna nearly twisted his limbs from his body. Broke his arm in three different places, his leg in five.

“They say I'll need to be patient,” Steve tells Eddie a few months after everything, hands tangled over the middle console of the van. It's late December and they're on their way back from physical therapy. “Could be months before I walk without crutches. Years maybe before I'm back to the way I was before… or close.”

Eddie clenches his free hand around the steering wheel, like Steve clung to that stupid handrail earlier. White-knuckled and pale-faced, jaw locked tight as he struggled to take a few shaky steps. Not for the first time, he wishes that he'd been faster, pulled him out sooner-

“Eds.”

He snaps back to the present as if pulled by a bungee rope. Steve’s eyes are warm and soft.

“Stop it,” he says, gentle and firm and so very strong, so very Steve. Eddie needs to swallow against the sudden thickness clogging his throat. “You've nothing to hold against yourself. You saved me.”

“You saved yourself,” Eddie huffs, eyes stubbornly trained on the snowy road. “I helped, is all. You can do this, too. You'll be walking in no time, you just wait.”

“Dunno,” Steve mutters. He sounds so small, so broken, so very much not like himself, and Eddie wishes he could resurrect Vecna, simply to kill him again. Make it more painful this time, let him suffer like he made them suffer. “You saw me just now. Feels like I need to fight forever for every little inch of success.”

“Let's make a deal?”

The words are out before Eddie can think better of it, but the sadness on Steve’s face has given way to curiosity, so he shoulders on.

“We could make it a new year's resolution. If you manage to walk by … July, let's say, I'll quit smoking.”

“Oh, please!” Steve's eyebrow quirks. “As if you could.”

“Of course I could. I'm tired of you whining about my cigarette breath anyhow. What's wrong, big boy? Scared of getting your ass handed to you?”

“Fuck off,” Steve grouses, but his mouth is curling into a smile and his eyes are sparkling. “It's on, dude!”

“Hell, yeah!” Eddie makes no attempt at hiding his smug grin. Count on Steve’s competitive streak to win him over. “It's so on!”

*

“Oh God,” Steve squawks the second his hands lose contact with the crutches. “It's off. Eds, it's off, give’m here.”

“Nuh-uh!” Eddie dances a step back - not far, still close enough to catch Steve in case he falls, but far enough to keep the crutches out of reach. “Just give it a shot, c’mon. You got this.”

Over the distance between them, their eyes meet.

“I've gotcha.”

Steve's eyes light up and a small laugh bubbles from his throat.

And then he walks.

Eddie makes sure to stay a bit ahead, spouting a never-ending string of encouragement and jokes and sweet nonsense. Just keeps talking so that Steve can focus on something other than the fear and the doubt. Guides him with his voice like he's done before, like he'll keep doing for as long as Steve needs, as long as he wants.

The first steps are unsure and wobbly, but soon enough, Steve finds his footing. They've both kicked off their shoes, and the dry summer grass is brittle under their naked feet, the earth soft and warm. The sound of their footfalls mingles with the whirr of the cicadas in the grass, the rush of his own blood in his ears, their mingled laughter, a gorgeous, wonderful symphony of alive, alive, alive.

When Steve’s legs give out and he stumbles, Eddie is there. He cushions their fall with his own body and they go down in a tangle of limbs and laughter, lips meeting before they even hit the ground. The crutches go clattering somewhere to the side.

“I did it!” Steve gasps against his mouth, and Eddie can't tell if the sound is more laugh or more sob. “Shit, did you- did you see that? I did it!”

“You did it,” Eddie rumbles, hands in Steve's hair, kissing his lips and nose and eyes and anything he can reach between words. Both their cheeks are wet with tears, but they're good tears, finally good tears, and he can’t tell whose they are anymore. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that they’re alive, and here, and together. “Fuck yeah, you did, always knew you would. So strong, so amazing. Love you so much.”

Steve makes another sound, a raw thing so full of emotion it makes Eddie’s heart flutter, and crashes their lips together again, firmer, longer. Eddie sighs as a hesitant tongue coaxes at his lips, opens up, lets him in.

And then Steve groans and pulls back.

“What?” Eddie asks, insides twisting with worry. “Shit, did you hurt yourself? What-”

“‘m fine!” Steve wheezes, glancing up at him with watery eyes. “You just taste like an ashtray, is all.”

“Oh, c'mon!” Eddie grouses while Steve rolls off him, flops onto his back in the grass. “I had like half a cig this morning.”

“Half a cig too much, then,” Steve beams up at him, all glinting teeth and gold-streaked hair in the sunlight, eyes sparkling with mirth and alive, alive, alive. “I win.”

Eddie pouts. “What though? Can't remember agreeing on a prize, this was all fun and-”

One strong, nimble hand tangles in the collar of his shirt, pulls him in.

“Shut up and kiss me, ash breath.”

Eddie has never obeyed an order more gladly in his life.

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #steddieholidaydrabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

[krashoutluv]

You’ve been given AK Jason so much love thx ☺️ if it’s not too much… what are some of AK Jason’s comforts? Does he have comfort foods? 🥘 Does he like the sound of the rain? 🌧️ Naps on the couch ? 🛋️

Thx 🥰

ill give this man love anytime💟

and its never too much anon, i love writing for him and yall!

Comforting Ak!Jay

(IM SO PROUD OF THIS I 💟 MY AUTISM)

(ngl this also just turned into my character analysis of Ak!Jay’s psychological gymnastics from Comics ((AK Genesis & Batman: AK)) and games) (still wrote the comfort shit tho)

hc, but i dont think any jason todds like the rain. it reminds them too much of the time he was a kid, didnt have a place to stay and went to sleep cold and wet

or when he was still young and with his family, his apartment would get flooded.

BUT ANYWAYS—

alone, i dont think jason can comfort himself very well.

beats himself for it when its over, drops him back into a spiral

just very much not healthy

HOWEVEER with someone is very different ,,

I Ramble Abt Jason Todd

post writing this, i feel like that one tweet thats like, ‘i never realized she was holding a plate of corn in this scene.’

Ak!Jays spirals or episodes come from two things, his self-esteem or self-worth, along with his lack of self-identity

Ak!Jason (Post/During AK) has a very hard time with his self worth, it solely stems from wanting to prove people wrong about himself. he obviously doesn’t like being perceived in the wrong way.

Ak!Jason (Post/During AK) says he’s move pasts his traumas, yet his identity and reasoning is constantly rooted in them, leading to so much contradictory dialogue and mental FUCKING GYMNASTICS.

ak!jay juggling if he wants to be loved by batman/batfam or wants to end it

i think he often ponders if he was better off being killed by the joker, or if he can really be redeemed from his actions as Arkham Knight by helping Gotham as Red Hood.

and if it’s enough for the people around him or someone to accept him.

if he can truly ever be loved

he has a lot of crisises about his identity and purpose more often then not b/c he cant find a reason for either besides his own anger and approval addiction.

, his biggest fear is losing, being worthless, and unwanted.

his constant drive is winning and proving himself as the best.

it causes his always feeling the need to prove himself, just so that hes wanted.

full pic is him on hid knees begging alfred for help,, my baby—-

the first introduction of his internalized self-deprecation is with his father, other then the Arkham Knight Annual

though he rejects this “truth” in the Annual, showing his determination to prove himself more then what Bruce and the Joker idealizes him to be, I think its a good mirror into Jasons mind and what really makes him start cracking

Ex. , his biological father canonically telling him he was a loser growing up, and his mom seems to personify/objectify Jason as gothams gravitation keeping them in gotham.

another example is the way he is talked to throughout scarecrows psychotropic

throughout the comic and game he goes between or showing a desire for a connection with bruce and praising joker for his upbringing, then chastising them.

its very clear jason has an identity issue, with him isolating himself because he believes he is too broken (game dialogues), his need for validation stemming from his childhood, his fear of abandonment, and overall internal dilemmas of wanting a connection or not. obviously hes not good with working out his emotions on his own without doing considerably impulsive things.

jason wanting to be his own person v jason wanting to be a better person for the people in his life

He see’s the place he was tortured as a rebirth for him, along with his plan to destroy Gotham and Bruce.(AK: Genesis)

This only comes from his desire to want his own separate identity, by ending these cycles of Bruces actions and Gothams nightmares he also believes that he will be truly free.

his only true identification with himself is anger and resentment, being built, gravitated, and broken by anger. feeling like hes always losing or lost, and his desire to just win something and therefore be wanted

okay to stop a fuckton of more rambling jason todd, abandoment issues, jealousy/obsession issues, need for connection, validation, relationships, self-destructive isolation, brainwashing induced perception issue, intense mood swings which also cause perception issues.

i guess it could try to be argued that Jason doesn’t actually want validation bc he got over the psychotropic; but i disagree with the way he constantly talks about being underestimated and feeling like he has to prove himself throughout the comics and his dialogue with Barbra in game.

i also want to make it clear that throughout the ak!comics he does help civilians so it does really have morality for other people. He does separate Gothams Gravity from the people, and claims the worst of the worst (villains and such) are the people who succumb to gotham.

(im only stopping bc im on mobile and couldn’t put anymore pictures)

im so upset.

theres so much i didnt get to talk abt

Ok Actually Comforting

so its pretty god damn hard to comfort this dude, he’s a chronic over analyzer, could probably turn anything and everything you say against himself or you, and yet would crave validation and intimacy.

which makes him a bit of a trip,, but i love him. so.

a lot of the time you’ll have to go with his flow

if its really bad he’ll isolate himself, he feels like he’s letting you down by breaking in front of you. He can’t let you see him as weak because to him its a liability for your relationship.

as well as the fact that his perception becomes very extreme/warped when very emotional. he’ll can range from believe your lying to him, to he’s not worth that kind of comfort and he’s wasting your time.

it takes a lot of patience for him to accept that he isnt an inconvenience to you and you do actually care

overtime, a lot of fucking time, he’ll slowly come around to this. instead of leaving for days or weeks at a time, Jason will leave for at most a day or two, but around midnight he’ll be home craving your presence.

he cant be alone again, he really doesn’t wanna be alone again, he needs to make sure you don’t wanna leave him.

probably just goes to sleep facing you, or holding your hand if hes feeling especially mushy.

he’d be so quiet, having the internal battle of leaving you or letting him feed into his desire of just having you around him.

In his words, needing a home. feeling safe, and warm. (I LIED I DELETED TWO PICS TO SHOW THIS)

jason thinking of alfred as home>>

Jason needs that in a partner! Someone who is warm to him! someone who makes him feel wanted or needed! Someone who makes him feel safe!

I think if you catch him just as he gets triggered/begins to spiral, you can help him not crash out.

Being over the top mushy with him isnt gonna work, he needs someone to ground him and be 100% with him.

sometimes he doesn’t need to talk or just doesn’t want to, again presence.

but acknowledging him every now and then to make sure he knows your not brushing him off or forgot about him.

when you’re in a closer relationship he definitely just wants you in his arms, needs to hold you close.

Home-cooked meals with him, justing going about your life with him, making him feel wanted, making him feel acknowledged.

i think he’d open up every now and then, but i think he’s also still a self-assured person who needs guidance at the right time. to just be sure he’s on the right path and youre with him.

one of his triggers is his own jealousy, accidentally making him feel like he’s replaceable or him believing you’ll get tired of him.

he needs so much reassurance.

just be there with him, guide him, love him, make sure he’s on the right path.

he needs a lot of things, sometimes its naps, sometimes its food, sometimes just to be in your arms, sometimes to help you cook, sometimes watching you work, sometimes he’ll have you lay your back on his chest and read with him, sometimes he just wants to fall asleep with you, sometimes he wants to cry in your arms, JUSDHRIDJDJDISO JASON TODD COME HOME WE MISS YOUUUU

HES MY HIGH MAINTENANCE GF

this was so satisfying to write i <3 jason todd

rq/inbox is open !! if you just wanna yap or wanna request somethin’ go ahead!

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #arkham knight x reader #jason peter todd #arkham knight #skullkidwithsunglasses #i ramble about arkham knight heheheej #jason todd headcanon #red hood headcanons #red hood x reader #red hood

[redtsundere-writes]

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader

Part 4. Our Fight.

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Spynosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Cursed words. Sexual harassment. Smut. Physical violence. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. MNDI. +18. Word count: 4692 words. A/N: Hello, peeps! Long time no see. I just bought my first PC, so I can finally write without slamming my old laptop for it to work. This is a long one, so enjoy!

There was something about eating a simple cup of noodles in a hotel room after a tiring day of training. It was somewhat special and comforting, like a mother singing a lullaby before taking a nap. That cozy feeling of surviving another day of training before a big fight. Yuuji settled the kettle and prepared the cup of noodles in the small kitchen area of our hotel room. We bought them in a nearby corner store when we took our break from Sukuna’s training.

We slurped our feelings away and let our bodies melt away with the hot broth. I sighed as my back laid fully in the cuck chair that every hotel room has for some reason. Yuuji ate his noodles like he hadn't eaten in days. Our bodies ache for all the training, but we could finally relax in the small room. 

“He is going to fucking kill me one of these days,” I sighed before grabbing a mouthful of noodles. 

“Same. I don’t know how I have been able to keep up all these years,” Yuuji said with a weak smile. 

“Gojo told me you guys have trained since you were little, how was Sukuna back then?” I asked with curiosity, putting my feet up in the closest furniture piece to get more comfortable. 

“He was a menace. He is still a menace,” Yuuji giggled. “Our parents were so tired of his ratty and chaotic behavior that they sent him to a pediatrician. She told our parents that they had to find an activity for him to get his energy out. They tried everything. Mountain biking, climbing, dancing. He ended up liking kickboxing.”

“Damn. I feel bad for your parents.”

I could imagine a small Sukuna trying all of those different activities. Riding a dirt bike and acing every trick he could learn, even if that meant breaking a bone or two in the process. Being one of those kids who wants to try the hardest path on the climbing wall but falls over and over trying to prove himself he can do it. A smile appeared on my face when I pictured him trying ballet in a cute pink tutu. That would be adorable. 

“They are really proud of him. Except for that time when he slept with Choso’s fiancé, of course. Dad was really pissed at him, but Mom tried to defend him,” Yuuji remembered as if it was yesterday. 

“Your brother is still single?” I asked curious, trying not to be too obvious. 

“Yeah. He told me it was hard going back to dating when he has trust issues,” he answered. “Why do you ask?” 

“No reason. Just curious,” 

“Really? I thought you liked him.”  I coughed out the noodles from the shock. Maybe I was too obvious. Yuuji looked at me in shock. “Oh shit, you really like him. I was just joking.” I blushed immediately. I outed myself, just like that. 

“I mean… he is kinda cute,” I said as I fake like he wasn’t the big deal. 

“Maybe I can set you up on a date with him one of these days. What do you think?” Yuuji asked me. 

“If Choso is okay with that, that would be great,” I answered. I really didn’t want to bother him if he was still healing from his brother's betrayal.

The night rolled in Dubai. Little by little, the city was shutting down under the cloak of darkness with a vibrancy that rivaled the stars overhead. The skyline, a jagged silhouette against the ink-black sky, was a testament to human ingenuity and ambition. The air was balmy, the gentle breeze carrying the scent of the sea from the Persian Gulf, mingling with the exotic aromas of spices and perfumes that wafted from the open doorways of the bustling souks. 

A ping on my phone woke me up in the middle of the dark room. I grabbed it weakly to check what it was. The white screen flashed my eyes for a second, blinding me. My eyes blinked a couple of times to get used to the light. It was a message from Sukuna who was responsible for waking me up. 

Cocky Bastard: Come to my room. 

I looked at the time on my phone. 2:31 am. “This bitch…” I thought as I sat on the edge of the bed and slid my slippers in while yawning. I put my hair up in a ponytail and grabbed a hoodie to cover the fact that I was in pajamas. I was getting out of the room when my phone pinged again. 

Cocky Bastard: Now. 

“It better be important, or I’ll fucking kill you,” I thought as I typed angrily an answer. 

You: Omw. 

The hotel halls were an embodiment of luxury and tradition, where polished floors and golden lantern lights welcomed me into a clear path to Sukuna’s room at the other end of the hall. Ornate lanterns cast intricate shadows on walls adorned with rich tapestries and art, bridging ancient and modern worlds. The air, perfumed with jasmine and sandalwood, carried the blend of traditional Arabic melodies and contemporary tunes, adding to the ambiance.

A slam on the door woke my body up in a survival instinct. The sound of clicking heels against the marble floors were coming right to me. A beautiful and hot woman in a stunning red dress walked angrily past me while mumbling something to herself in Arabic. She was fuming. I wanted to help her, but I don’t think we spoke the same language. 

I got to the room and knocked on his door three times like a secret code. He yelled to get in from the other side, naturally, I followed his order. The elegant living room of the most expensive suite of the hotel welcomed me with open arms. I walked in to see Sukuna drinking some red wine in the hotel’s comfy bathrobe. 

“What the hell are you doing up at this time? You should be resting,” I scold him as I get to him. I tried to take the glass of wine out of his hands, but he pulled it away. Instead, he poured another glass for me. 

“I’ll get straight to the point. I am a little bit desperate, you see,” Sukuna scoffed as he pushed the glass of wine to me without looking. “I have a luck ritual before every fight, I have to have satisfying sex before the fight to win.” 

Oh, that's what it was… Was Sukuna really asking me to fuck with him? I was only his coach. I didn’t know he could see me with those eyes. Maybe he was really that desperate. The red wine was tempting me, I really needed alcohol in my system after hearing that. 

“So you want to fuck with me?” I asked bluntly. 

“‘Want’ is a strong word. If I wasn’t in this situation, I wouldn’t fuck you. You are not my type at all. I like petite girls I can easily break,” he scoffed. For some reason, that last comment made my blood boil. “It’s just to avoid my jinx. I won’t ask you to do it again.” 

I was about to suggest hiring a prostitute, but I remembered we were in a very conservative country. There were very strict laws against prostitution, so looking for one would be an impossible task. 

“Fine, I’ll do it,” I said as I grabbed the glass and stirred it to oxygen the maroon liquid. 

“That’s all the convincing I need to do?” He asked, a bit surprised. 

“At least that way, you won’t fuck another person’s fiancé.” Sukuna laughed, clearly offended. 

“Yuuji told you?… That bastard.” He smirked, not believing his little brother would tell on him with his own coach. 

“Yuuji told me about your jinx, so I believe you,” I said before gulping down the wine in one shot. “Since this is a one time thing, let’s get this done then.” I said before pushing him by the chest, cornering him back against the counter to kiss him. 

Our lips collided into a frenetic dance to show each other who was really in control. We tilt our heads to deepen the kiss and reach for our tongues. He bit my lower lip to pull me closer to his face. His hand reached for my scalp to pull my head closer by my hair. My sneaky fingers snaked around his neck and shoulders to grab the back of his pink hair to make him behave. We were two wild dogs whose owners were pulling on their leashes to control them. 

His big hands wrapped my waist to turn the tables. Sukuna pulled me up to make me sit on the cold kitchen counter. I grabbed him by the robe to keep him in place. Kissing Sukuna was like surviving in a thunderstorm. It was fierce and strong, but oddly warm once you get to the coldness. He grabbed me by my ass to pull my pelvis to his crotch. He was too damn good at this for his own good. I could feel my panties getting wet. 

“I didn’t know you were such a slut,” he moaned against my lips. I pulled away to slap him across his face. He smirked, surprised by the sudden act of violence. 

“I am sorry, did that hurt?” I asked in a fake innocent voice. 

“Oh… you’ll fucking regret that,” Sukuna spat as he tossed me over his shoulder and spanked my ass. I squealed and covered it as I could with my hands. “I am sorry, did that hurt?” He imitated me. I scoffed in shame. 

Sukuna took me to the sofa and tossed me in it. He quickly removed his bathrobe to expose himself to me. I took a quick scan of him. His fluffy pink hair was a mess with black hair poking underneath. His massive pecs were shaved and ready for tomorrow’s show. He had perfectly toned abs to die for, but what really surprised me was the star of tonight’s show, his massive thick cock. I was long and meaty, perfectly straight. With that cock, he could be a porn star. I couldn’t help but gulp with worried eyes. 

“Don’t be scared, it doesn’t bite,” he said while stroking his already hard cock. “Quick. Take off your clothes,” he demanded. 

“You are the one with the jinx, not me,” I barked, offended. “If you need to fuck me, show it.” He rolled his eyes and got close to me. 

“You are such an annoying brat.”

He unzipped my hoodie, took off my shirt, slid down my shorts and ripped my underwear off me. Sukuna didn’t want to waste any time on a meaningless task. Once my whole body was exposed to him, he manhandled me to make me bend over the couch. He gripped my thighs hard to shove his monstrosity in one back shot. I gasped for air. It was too big. I opened my ass so it could fit better in me. 

“Take your hands off there,” he spat as his hands grabbed both of my hands to put them behind my back. “I’ll have to teach you some fucking manners.”

That first thrust almost killed me. It was powerful and desperate. From the very beginning, he wanted to go all fucking in. I moaned every time he shoved his dick in my poor pussy, which wasn’t ready for a massacre. I opened my legs wider to give him better access. The slight pain was fading away with each thrust as my body was getting used to his stiff stick. 

“You are going to fucking kill me… ‘kuna…” I moaned in despair as my breasts and ass cheeks bounced in perfect synchrony. 

I was used to getting beat, punched and kicked, but this felt completely different. He was beating me to an addictive rhythm I could barely resist. The worst thing about it was that I didn’t want him to stop. His cock was hitting every inch of my intimacy so good that I just needed more. I felt full, but I could eat some dessert. 

“Fuck, you are taking me better than that hoe I hired,” he groaned as his hips were hitting my ass in deep strokes. 

“So, I wasn’t the first option…” I thought. I was a bit disappointed. I shouldn’t be. Sukuna was horrible enough to not want to fight another woman over him, but my competitive soul wasn’t happy with it. I knew I wasn’t a sexy bombshell, but I was pretty enough to be the first option. Shit, I was really offended. 

“Turn around,” Sukuna ordered as he pulled out of me to put me in another position.

When I turned, he freed me from his grip. This was my opportunity. I pushed him to make him sit down on the wood coffee table. He was clearly in shock. If he wanted to avoid his jinx, it would be under my conditions. One of those conditions was making him understand I am the top dog and not a simple bitch he could hire on a Tuesday. I grabbed him by his chin and pulled his face towards me. 

“Open wide,”  I demanded. 

“Why would I do that?” Sukuna argued with a smirk. I pulled his hair hard to make his chin face me. 

“I said ‘Open wide’,” I repeated myself, forcing him to open his mouth.

I was starting to get tired of his whining and his bullshit. He needed to learn some fucking manners. If this was the way I had to do it, fine. I’ll do it in my own way. Sukuna tried to close his mouth, but he was going to behave, like it or not. I spit directly on his tongue and closed his jaw. 

“That wasn’t that hard, wasn’t it?” I asked him with a smirk. I could see in his eyes that he wanted to be offended by it, but he low-key liked it. 

My hands pushed him so he could lay down against the coffee table. He tried to fight me to regain control, but I grabbed him by the wrists and pulled him further back so he could stay still. 

“Just fucking relax for once. I’ll do the dirty work from now on,” I whispered against his ear. My tongue flickered around his earlobe, just for the funsies. Sukuna retaliated and tried to fight me over, but when he saw that he was already under my claws, he stopped. 

My hips humped against his crotch, and his cock twitched against my pussy in excitement. I slid his dick on me slowly and pushed it deep. He wasn’t just handsome and had a fantastic physique, his dick was perfect as well. It was big and thick, but it wasn’t scandalous enough to be scared of it. He was the perfect man, too bad he had a shitty personality. No one was really perfect. 

My hips ride his cock without mercy. It felt like heaven and hell at the same time. His moans and grunts were a clear sign that I was doing a good job. I could feel he wanted to free himself to latch onto my body, but I was in charge tonight. I moved in slow circles, and he jerked his head back in satisfaction. He closed his eyes and his toes curled as I rode him like a real cowgirl. My breasts bounced, following the rhythm of my movements. Wet and squishy sounds with our moans filled the air, creating a perfect symphony of lust. 

His dick was pushing and rubbing every part of my insides. It was raw and rough. I was desperately getting myself dumb fuck with the new toy I just borrowed. I never felt more tired and alive at the same time. I haven't felt this way in a pretty long time. I had to make the most of it.  The coffee table was creaking with every hard bounce.

“F-Fuck… I am so close,” he moaned under his breath. 

“Do you want to cum in me, baby?” I asked him in an innocent tone. He nodded in response. I smirked and made a full stop. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” He yelled at me with a slight blush on his cheeks. 

“You need to ask for it nicely,” I asked. Sukuna frowned. “Say ‘Please, mommy. I want to cum.’” I got close to his face as if I was about to kiss him. “Just once, and I’ll let you cum all over this warm and slutty pussy,” I offered. Sukuna looked away. He was actually thinking of it. It was either saying the magic phrase or jinxing his own fight. I only saw an easy answer. 

“Please, mommy…  I want to cum…” He whispered while blushing intensely. 

“I can’t hear you,” I said with a mischievous smile. Sukuna scoffed and bit his lower lip. He didn’t want to repeat himself. 

“Please, mommy. I want to cum so bad,” he repeated, avoiding eye contact.  

“Good boy,” I said before releasing his wrists. “Go crazy.”

He clasped his hands on my ass and made me ride him like I was just doing previously. He shook my hips up and down to ride him in a wilder rhythm, trying to compensate for the time we lost. The wood table was creaking and squeaking in pain. It didn’t take long for it to collapse, but that didn’t stop Sukuna. His hands continue bouncing my ass to his cock as he thrust against me. 

“Just like that ‘Kuna…” I begged as I arched my back towards him. My nipples were rubbing against his pecs with each rough move. My legs were barely resisting. My eyes were tearing up from the power his cock held over me. He spanked me a couple of times as a celebration that he gained control over me. He pulled my hair to the side as he grunted to the rhythm of his hips. 

“Sukuna!” I moaned as I drooled over his shoulder. The pressure and stiffness left so good inside of me. My tight pussy hugged his big cock every time he pushed it in. After a couple of wet strokes in, I felt it inside. His thick and warm milk inside of me. It was what I needed to reach the climax. His cum felt like that cup of noodles after training. 

“Shit…” we both moaned as we relaxed our bodies. 

I pulled slowly out of me and laid next to Sukuna on the broken coffee table. Our breathing and gasps filled the silence that always came with every climax. I came back to my senses after what happened. “I just fucked my trainee,” I thought as I closed my eyes, embarrassed. What have I done? I needed to go now. No one could find out. 

“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked in a shy tone as I picked my clothes up from the floor. Sukuna pointed in the direction as he kept lying down on the table. 

I ran to the bathroom and washed my face to fully wake up. I looked straight at my face in the mirror. The face of a slut. I gripped the zinc and sighed out loud. It was already done. I fucked him. It was a one time only thing. There was nothing I could do now. 

“Just live with it,” I said before putting my clothes back on. 

I exited the bathroom and looked for Sukuna to wish him a goodnight. I found him sleeping on the couch in just his bathrobe. “This dumbass will catch a cold,” I thought as I looked for something to cover him up. 

I went to the fancy master bedroom to just grab a decorative blanket. I was just going to grab the blanket and go off, but something caught my eye. There was a Polaroid photo on top of his night stand. It was a cute picture of a little trio. Sukuna, Choso and Yuuji as kids at what appears to be a kickboxing tournament. They were wearing their cute sporty outfits and smiling as they showed their participation medals with pride. I knew he looked adorable. 

Taking important photos everywhere is a habit only sensitive people have, like artists or musicians. I didn’t think Sukuna was the type of guy who kept memories like that. 

Why did Sukuna carry something like this? I thought he hated his brothers. What made him act so cold towards them? I didn’t know, and I couldn't get answers. I didn’t care about the old Sukuna, I just needed the present Sukuna to behave. I placed back the picture where I found it and went back to the living room. 

I placed the blanket on top of his massive body and moved around the cushions to make sure he would sleep well. His eyes shut, his chest going up and down from breathing and his fluffy messy hair was a delight to see. It was the first time I have seen him so relaxed. I wish I could see him more like this so he didn’t have to overwork himself. 

“Why do you have to be an ass to everyone who cares about you?” I thought out loud. 

The next day, under a starlit sky, the UFC Championship Night unfolded with electrifying intensity. The arena, alive with the roars of fans from across the globe who were watching live, set the stage for a night of unmatched athleticism and spirit. Fighters, embodying determination and skill, clashed in the octagon, their every move watched by an enraptured audience. 

Between bouts, the energy never waned, as performances dazzled and discussions flourished among the diverse crowd. The main event, a pinnacle of strategy and strength, held spectators in a spell, culminating in a moment of pure triumph and emotion. As the night waned, the echoes of the event lingered, leaving behind memories of a spectacular evening where sport and spectacle had intertwined beautifully in Dubai.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the event that everyone was waiting for! Give it up for Sukuna “The King of the Ring” Ryomen!” The host welcomed him and his team to the big stage. 

The Search by NF started playing as his anthem. His fans went crazy as he made his great appearance. He flexed his boxing skills with a couple of ghost jabs to warm up to the adrenaline rush of what being on the octagon meant. He looked focused and ready. I knew he was ready. I was confident he could beat Toji. 

After last night, he ignored me the whole day. In the morning run, he avoided me. In the warm-up session, he didn’t even look at me. I didn’t know what I did wrong to deserve his cold treatment, but he followed the schedule I made, so I didn’t have any grounds to be mad at him. My legs could be weak, but my pride was strong. 

After the medical and cheating check up by the referee, he got up on stage. Gojo, Nanami, Yuuji and I put ourselves by his designated corner, ready with our supplies for each round. 

Toji and his staff made their own great entrance, and he got up to the octagon as well. The referee made them get close to recite the rules so they could bump gloves. After that, the real show was about to start. 

“This is a no-blinking fight, everyone!” The commentator announced, and the public went crazy as the two strong fighters were about to clash. My palms started to get sweaty, and my eyes were focused only on him. 

“Fight!” The referee announced, and they threw themselves at each other. 

Punches, jabs and strikes cut the air in the tight space. Toji was the one who was building up his way to Sukuna’s space. He was conquering the fight little by little. Toji knew how strong Sukuna could be, he needed to take his time before he could kill him. After some minutes of teasing and a minute left on the timer, he went full beast mode on him. Sukuna wasn’t doing any offensive, he was just surviving being in the same cage as him. Gojo and Yuuji kept screaming incoherent instructions to him, but the public was so loud that Sukuna probably couldn’t hear him. Ten seconds on the clock and Toji connected a perfect jab to his ribs, taking air out of him.

The bell rang, and the referee separated them. Gojo, Yuuji and I quickly got inside the octagon to assist Sukuna for his next round. 

“I thought you were in the winner’s team,” Toji yelled at me. I ignored him to get to Sukuna. 

“You see what you have done? Are you trying to embarrass me?!” I yelled at Sukuna while Yuuji was showering him with water and put an ice pack on his ribs. My fighter looked at me with a frown. At least he wasn’t ignoring me now. “Now you are listening. You have to get closer. He has longer arms than you, he will rail you in boxing. Go for his legs, man!” I ordered, and he nodded, knowing I was right. “Make me proud, Sukuna.”

The next round started and Toji noticed the change in Sukuna’s attitude. He was wilder and straightforward than before, so he acted accordingly. They had three other rounds, but this was looking like the last one. Toji tried to connect a kick to Sukuna’s ribs, but his opponent took that opportunity to drop him to the ground. The audience stood up to get a better look at what was going on. 

“Get it, Sukuna! Just like we practice!” I yelled at him with the highest pitch I could, so my voice would stand out. 

Sukuna crawled and fought to get to Toji’s neck. “Is he going to do it?” I was shocked. He quickly got onto him to lock his opponent down against the mat with his legs around his neck and torso. Toji tried getting up, just like with Geto in his fight against Sukuna, but he wasn’t going to let him go so easily. Toji growled under his breath. He punched his sides, but Sukuna couldn’t give up. He latched his left leg on his right arm, causing Toji to turn around slowly. 

“Oh my god…” I mumbled without losing eye contact with his physique.

“Is he…?” Gojo thought the same. 

Sukuna made Toji turn on his belly. The black haired reached for his pink head, so he could only choke hold him in between his biceps. The euphoric screams from the audience kept getting louder as the fight got closer to the end. I saw Toji start to breathe with difficulty while his hands tried to loosen up Sukuna’s powerful grasp. He wasn’t going to let what happened in Las Vegas happen again. 

After seconds of contemplating his options to win this, Toji noticed he had zero. It was over. He got him, so he tapped his arms three times to release him himself in defeat. The referee allowed it and Sukuna loosened up. The buzzer went off to indicate the fight was over, and the audience went wild.

“Did you see that?! I taught him how to do that!” I screamed in excitement to Yuuji who was as excited as I was to see his brother keeping his title. 

Sukuna jumped over the fence to better hear the excitement of the public. The whole staff, the cameramen, and round girls entered the octagon to celebrate. The fighters got to the middle and the host announced Sukuna as the clear winner by technical knockout. Sukuna shook hands with Nanami, Gojo and Nanami in celebration. 

“I knew you could do it,” I said, bear hugging him to piss him off. 

To my surprise, he hugged me back. He was sweaty and clammy. His heart was rushing from adrenaline. His arms were trembling from exhaustion. I patted his back to show him my support. A smile appeared on my face when I realized that, for the first time, he was being sweet. 

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[buckyalpine]

Baby Boy

18+ Minors dni

Mommy!kink bucky x reader 

Bucky discovering he has a mommy kink. Idk what this is. I have like 1000 wips, who the fuck asked for this. No one. See you in the next post if mommy kink isn’t your thing  Warnings: Smuuuttt, mommy kink, swearing Fluffff

Word count: 1.2k

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“Awww you look so cute here!” You giggled, looking at a picture of two year old Bucky, with chubby red cheeks, his dark brown hair combed to the side. There were not a lot of pictures but the few that existed were adorable. You sat in his lap while he had his arms around you, cuddled to his chest. 

“You’re still adorable baby boy” You kissed his nose, your thumb caressing his scruffy cheek as you continued to look through the album from when Bucky was little. 

Baby boy. 

Hm.

He felt his heart jump for a moment as soon as the words left your mouth. Bucky adjusted himself as you continued to flip through pictures unaware of your boyfriends shifting. 

“You’re so sweet, look at you” You cooed, looking at the picture and then back at him, carding your fingers through his hair. Bucky preened under your touch, nuzzling his face into your hand like a cat. Your soft voice stirred something in him, the way you looked at him, fuck he wanted to be your baby boy so badly- wait what. 

Bucky blinked, shaking his head in confusion, No. nonono. Bad Bucky. 

“Look at my baby” You smiled, looking at a picture of Bucky in his army uniform, clean shaven face, eyes bright, handsome as hell. You still didn’t believe he was a virgin there, how does one look like that and just not fuck all day long.

“My handsome baby boy” Dear God, you were going to kill him. You traced the picture, your own fantasies interrupted when you heard a quiet groan.

“You okay Buck?” Bucky looked at you with wide eyes. You cupped his face, while he nodded, biting his lip, not trusting himself to speak. You hummed, looking at the other pictures of Bucky in uniform, he’d been through so much and still remained an absolute teddy bear on the inside. 

“You’re so beautiful my baby, so proud of you” You pecked a sweet kiss to his lips, before looking at more pictures of your gorgeous solider boyfriend, while gently playing with his hair. 

Bloody hell. 

*****

Once Bucky pieced together what his body was screaming for, it just got more difficult to control. 

You soft touches. 

When you’d let him be little spoon.

When you’d cuddle him after a nightmare. 

Your sweet gentle voice. 

The way you’d always praise him about how proud of him you were, how much you adored him, how he was so perfect for you. 

He was going to combust on the spot at this rate. 

*****

Something was...off. 

It felt good, when the hell did it not feel good. But you could feel Bucky’s mind was elsewhere, his dazed expression, not meeting your eyes while you looked up at him, his cock hitting all the right spots, thrusting in you, but his mind was elsewhere. 

“Bucky?” 

He slowed, looking at you worried he’d done something wrong. 

“Did I hurt you?”

“No baby, but what’s on your mind?” 

Bucky swallowed thickly, shaking his head, he’d bit his tongue multiple times already, just wanted to moan for you while you took care of him. Wanted to call out for you, he didn’t want to moan your name, he just wanted to call you mo- 

“Sweetheart you can tell me, its okay. Do you want to just cuddle instead?” You smiled softly at him, wiggling from under him so you could sit up, taking his hands in yours, your thumb rubbing over his knuckles. “What is it Bucky?” 

Bucky’s mind was racing, he couldn't tell you, but fuck he wanted to let go to you so badly. Maybe if he just...

“C-could you get on top?” He whispered, hoping it’d give him a bit of satisfaction without fully confessing what he needed. 

“Of course baby” You giggled, letting him lay down before straddling his cock. You teased the tip of his cock at your entrance, a needy whine slipping past his lips. 

Huh. 

That was new. 

You started moving up and down on his cock. your hands on his chest, moaning as you rocked your hips. As much as you loved him on top, there was something sexy about having him under you, letting you take more control.

“Does it feel good baby?” You moaned while looking at him with heavy eyes, parted lips, your breasts bouncing up and down, God you were gorgeous. 

Bucky pawed at your boobs. squeezing the soft flesh in his hands, oh for fucks sake this was so much worse. His hips started rocking from under you, he knew what he needed, blinking up at you with glassy eyes, his pretty little mo- no. 

You noted the way Bucky shifted under you, his cock harder than ever, your combined slick making an absolute mess all over him, dripping down his balls. You hadn’t seen him like this before, he was acting so...needy. 

Interesting.

“What is it my baby” You cooed while Bucky whined and whimpered under you, his cock throbbing when your thump brushed over his pouty bottom lip, tugging it down before slipping the digit in.

Bucky’s eyes widened before they rolled back, greedily sucking your thumb, while moaning, his tongue swirling around your thumb. 

“Tell me baby, do you feel good” You pulled your hand away, looking down at him, with so much love, your pussy clenching around him, your beautiful fucking face and soft skin, sweet voice, and perfect body was too much for him, holy shit. 

“Feels so good mommy” 

Bucky froze, expecting you to jump off his cock in disgust, only to end up moaning loudly when you rode him faster, your fingers grazing his scalp as you picked up your pace.

“Yeah sweet boy? Does mommy make you feel good?” You bit your lip, your stomach clenching over the way Bucky's lips parted, his chest rising and falling, you could feel every ridge of his cock stiffen, he wasn’t going to last long.  

“So good mommy, so so fucking good” Bucky’s legs squirmed under you, his hands fisting the sheets, scared he’d hurt you with how badly he just wanted to grab and hold you. 

“What is it baby, hm?” You took his hands in yours, kissing his palms, 

“W-want to touch you? C-can I mommy?” You nodded, placing his hands on your boobs, moaning as he grabbed them, his hands flying all over to touch you everywhere he could. He continued to squirm, his cock leaking at this point, the head swollen and sensitive “Wanna cum” Bucky whined, his lip reddened from biting and chewing down on it.

“Awww, baby boy, you want to cum?” You cooed, rolling your hips, faster, your own orgasm waiting to tear through you at any given moment.

“Feels so good, please mommy, please please” His begging sent you over the edge, cumming around his cock making him nearly sob, he was so sensitive, so full of cum and you were squeezing his cock, practically strangling it in your tight walls.

“Go a head Jamie, be a good boy, cum for mommy” 

“M-MOMMMY” He cried out, rocking his hips up, your walls milk every single drop of cum out of him. You gently climbed off him, kissing his face before grabbing a cloth to clean the both of you up, giggling when you came back to find him sound asleep, cuddling your pillow to his face.

God he was adorable. Your adorable baby boy.  

-

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[veryinnovative]

and what if i drop the first 1.4k wc quarter?half?1/3rd? of the jirgin chronicles ino prequel fic. mild nsfw (it's the build-up) (james has dirty thoughts and dirty talks) (he is obsessed with regulus) special thanks to my hivemind members @sommerregenjuniluft @messymoony

James’ head is buzzing.

He’s only had one drink if the cheap, bottom-shelf beer that tastes like a water-vinegar concoction can be described as such. One drink and a touch of Regulus Black, the latter being far more inebriating than their fraternity’s beverage selection (half of which has been purchased using a masterfully falsified ID made by none other Barty Crouch Jr).

Just twenty minutes ago, Regulus had agreed to body shots. The fraternity adaptation of body shots, that is. An assessment of resilience if anything, the type where it’s required you lick the salt off from between crevices that aren’t a conventional part of the intoxicative process. Nothing remotely sexy about it.

But Regulus had done so without complaint, not even a hint of disgust. He had climbed on top of James—who had been waiting while sprawled across the table, almost hard in anticipation—bent down and licked the salt straight out of his armpit before allowing James to spit the shot of tequila into his mouth. Spit, with a capital S, because Regulus had swallowed with terribly arousing indifference and even licked away a droplet that had dribbled down James’ chin.

James has had felt attraction before. But in his twenty years of living, no one has ever done it like Regulus Black. 

Regulus Black from the upper crust echelons who undoubtedly attended family-hosted dinner parties where all old-money patricians gathered for an evening doused in extravagant splendor. That same Regulus Black who showed up to their haphazardly organized party dressed like a Y2K model—a cropped, sinfully tight-fitted shirt clinging to his chest and a pair of jeans that hung dangerously low on his hips. Barty’s clothes, no denying it. Sirius had let out an elated laugh when he showed up and confessed how proud he was of his little brother resembling a slutty college-dropout replication of himself. 

Although Sirius managed the gone-rogue family disappointment look with remarkable ease, Regulus could never quite embody it convincingly, especially when he fit perfectly into the mold of any director’s ideal casting for a Dark Academia movie. 

This, somehow, made him even hotter in James’ eyes. The prodigy, the Black family’s pride, the apple of Walburga’s eye… Walking around in a crowded living room with the remnants of James Potter’s saliva in his mouth.

He will die if he doesn’t make out with Regulus tonight. Or maybe Sirius will kill him for not finally making his move. According to him, “Regulus is only coming to these parties because of you, James. Honestly, fuck you. Fuck everyone! My brother does coke with his stupid best friend and has eyes for mine. Actually, you can all go to hell—”

The thing is, James is quite experienced in the making-out department, but terribly lacking in all other areas of physical intimacy. According to his friends, he’s a good kisser. A terrific one, even. Though other than kissing and being handsy, James hasn’t really done anything else. And boy, is he terrified of disappointed Regulus out of all people. 

Worst of all, he’s ruined him for all others. Just three months ago, James tried making out with someone as a means of practice. It had lasted for two solid minutes before Kingsley pulled back and confessed James kissed with the enthusiasm of a bingo host. 

In any other circumstance, James would have fought to redeem himself. But in the moment, he just ruefully sighed and confessed how head-over-heels he is for Regulus. Amused and ever eager for some juicy deets, Kingsley promptly ordered another round of drinks and encouraged James to share every tantalizing detail. The mood shifted from amusement to subdued shock when James revealed that he had been attempting to extinguish his seven-year crush for a quite while, only for it to be kindled with every stolen glance because James out of all people didn’t know how to approach him.

“Shit, that’s sorta pathetic,” Marlene had admitted, having eavesdropped the entire conversation. “I mean, really. Watching you eye-fuck was funny at first but now it’s just sad. Do something about it before we resort to seven minutes in heaven.”

And tonight is the night James does something about it in true Potter fashion: unplanned, flying by the seat of his pants—no, literally. He’s walking up the stairs without a smidgen of prudence, movements spurred on by want and want only. It’s the little horny creature wedged between his brain hemispheres that compels him to open the bathroom door, with none of his conscience at present to moderate his actions. 

The handle slams against the wall and Regulus, in front of the mirror and no longer trying to fix the smudge of charcoal eyeliner, jolts in place at the loud sound of impact.

No going back now.

Regulus blinks at him, a little befuddled, then at the door, and then back at him.

“Your bathroom door’s lock is broken,” he mentions, and, oh, James is a goner for the smooth timber of Regulus’ voice. He swallows, mouth cotton-parched, and can only focus on the memory feel of Regulus’ tongue touching his skin just moments prior. 

Especially now, bathed in the fluorescent lighting of the white-tiled room. His hair is properly disheveled, milky skin on wide display—bare arms, the flat of his stomach, hipbones jutted out above the edge of his jeans. James zeroes in on the dark dusting of hair leading down his belly button, disappearing behind the stupid, stupid denim.

He needs it off. All of it, actually.

“—James.”

And that’s Regulus voice, imbued with a sense of dominance—some other Black family inherent trait, probably.

“Hm?” James hums, finally looking up to meet his gaze, only for his eyes to drop down to Regulus’ bare stomach again. He wants to stick his tongue in his belly button.

“The door,” Regulus repeats himself, now frowning.

Oh, right. The door is open. They can’t have that. So, James enters the bathroom and closes the door behind him. 

Regulus, wholly unimpressed, arches an eyebrow at him. Yet, James can discern the flicker of amusement in his eyes. That’s no mistake there, especially when Regulus makes no move to stop him or send him out when James slowly shuffles forward, closing the gap between them. Even as he towers over him, almost cornering him into the wall, Regulus does nothing else other than tip his chin and look at him. Put on that infuriating tone when he whispers and asks, “Need something?”

James needs. Oh, he fucking needs. His grip around the countertop’s edge tightens.

Only a breadth away, he can finally closely study Regulus. His lashes are thick, long enough to touch his eyebrows when he’s forced to look up at James like this. The skin around his nose and cheeks is dappled with freckles, barely recognizable in the early Spring. But James has seen them during the Summer when they sneaked off to lake houses or hitch-hiked to the beach, the merry lot of them. Has seen much more too. Regulus’ swimming shorts wet and rucked up, revealing the soft, milky inside of his thigh. The high arch of his sole, the lovely curve of his calf. James couldn’t care less about feet, hates it when Sirius toes off his boots around them, but would fall to his knees to look at Regulus’ toes and their crescent-shaped nails. 

He would fall to his knees for him. For anything. Fuck, he would do it now. He will—

“—suck it,” James whispers, bringing his introspection finally to life. “Let me suck it.”

Right off the bat, unapologetic in every manner of speaking, a blemish on the rind of all his household-taught courtly philosophies. All coherent thought ejects James’ skull the moment he’s left alone in four walls and Regulus’ company, leaving him nothing short of painfully aroused and with the rabid animalistic desire to consume—

“It,” Regulus repeats him, drawing James from his reverie. He’s confused for a second… before a look of knowing crosses his eyes. Regulus knows. James fucking knows he does. Still, he holds onto a pretense of ignorance, giving a little cocky, sideways tilt of his head. A loose curl falls into his eyes and—James has never wanted to chew on hair this bad.

His hand reaches down to cup Regulus between his thighs, right over his jeans.

“Let me suck it.” James steps forward, gently pressing their bodies together, moving Regulus up against the wall while his hand remains nestled there. He almost preens at the sound of his soft gasp. “Let me suck your cock.”

#jegulus fics #ino microfic tag! #<- its not gna be a microfic when finished lmao #I GOT WORK TMRW BUT I NEEDED 2 WRITE SMTH.... #the body shots idea i had a month ago nd i could finally fit it here...

[bloodycherry22]

Brat. | Rick grimes

Genre: smut. spoilers

Summary: Rick gives you strict orders, in pure spite and annoyance you disobey him, sneaking out of Alexandria. You get caught and Rick makes sure you know to never do that, ever again.

Warnings: Anger, harsh language directed to reader, smut, degrading, praise, cussing, blowjob, oral, male receiving, hard fucking on a table? choking? I dunno, straight up raunchy, pure filth. RICK BEING MEAN TO READER. Like he literally bites and slaps her.

Not proofread

Rick scoffed, his arms crossed over his chest as he shook his head, eyes skimming over your figure “y/n, I told you, you can’t be going on runs in such a small group, especially after last time.” He confidently stated, a hint of proudness to his tone. A week or so back, while on a short run, you may have broke something and almost gotten killed by a small scale herd, leaving Rick the most worried man on the planet when he found out.

In annoyance you groaned, beginning to walk away from him, simply feeling like you had no more to say to that man. “Y/n..” A deep voice warned, stopping you in your tracks. “You can be mad at me but it doesn’t change my answer, you aren’t going out there without me or Daryl present” he shrugged, watching you calmly.

With a huff, you kept walking, making sure to add some pressure to your steps as you headed for your house. It was unbelievable the way he acted towards you, as if he owned you. As if he had every right to tell you what to do. Truthfully, he has no authority over you, meaning you didn’t actually have to abide by his rules.

With this idea in mind, grabbing your gear was a necessity, and once you had it, you were on your merry way out of Alexandria, sneaking over the wall the second you got the chance. The day growing short as the sun slowly set, leaving just the dim lighting that shone through the lower parts of the forest around you. Feeling quite content with yourself, you took a few long strides, inhaling the fresh air, sure it was no different to the air in Alexandria but it felt free. Like you weren’t being bossed around by a man or trapped inside by Deanna.

With almost no meaning to be out, you found yourself growing bored swiftly, deciding it really may have been a silly idea to come out here, meaninglessly killing walkers, sure it was good practice, but pointless as of right now. Just as you sighed to yourself, turning around you bumped into a hard chest, smelling an earthy, musk like scent. Mumbling a light curse you looked up, meeting the dark eyes of Daryl Dixon.

“The fuck you doing out here kid? Getting yourself killed” He scoffed, letting his crossbow down and raising his brow at you. You just pursed your lips and slid your knife back into its casing. He laughed under his breath and shook his head “you sneak out?…badass, you know Rick will be pissed right?” He asked sternly, his tone laced with sarcasm. You nodded and pinched the bridge of your nose, realisation setting in, no way in hell would Rick have magically not noticed that you left, let alone this late.

“Yup, your dead meat, come on, we’ll get ya in without the bosses seein’, just can’t promise Rick won’t know” he snickered, shaking his head, mumbling something about you being fucked as he grabbed your arm. With a whine you followed him “now, I sneak out sometimes, when you just want that fuckin’ moment of freedom…there’s a hole in the wall down in a more..overgrown area, hard to see so they don’t have many people there..it should work” he explained, his accent thick. You nodded, feeling a little more secure.

The walk felt short, almost wanting it to last longer so you could avoid the lecture you would get off Rick. Regretting ever coming out in the first place. Once you had reached the area Daryl had told you about, he helped you in before stepping in himself and you smiled, successfully entering Alexandria without being caught, it was a relief and Daryl seemed pretty proud too. Or so you thought. A deep, cough could be heard, on turning to see where it had emerged from, you met ricks eyes. He stood with his arms crossed and his brow quirked, glancing between both you and daryl, as he cleared his throat.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me” daryl mumbled and you suddenly felt ashamed, seeing ricks face, his deep eyes staring daggers into your soul, his jaw clenched in what seemed to be anger yet somehow his face was almost unreadable, his knuckles white at how hard he was holding onto the fabric of his shirt. He uncrossed his arms and stepped towards the both of you. Even daryl seemed a bit intimidated by the silence.

“Rick-“ you started but he shook his head.

“No, you don’t get to explain” he began, turning to face Daryl “You don’t think I know about your little time outs? I see you…fuckin’ escaping every couple of days, I kept quiet, but really, you decided to show y/n?”

“Rick, he didn’t show me, I snuck out myself, he just…caught me while I was heading back” you mumbled, looking down to fiddle with your fingers and Daryl chuckled. “Don’t blame me, I was just hoping to get her in without Deanna spotting her, she’s already suspicious” Daryl explained and Rick shook his head in shame. He took Daryl to the side, pointing at you and telling you sternly, to stay put, and so you did, he was intimidating in a state like this, never once did you think you would be on the receiving end of angry Rick.

After giving Daryl a short lecture, he turned back to you, walking over and grabbing your forearm, nudging you forward with a sense of aggression. You could tell he was leading you to his place, and you allowed him, staying completely silent as you both walked at a fast pace. One inside his house, he slammed the door and looked at you, placing his hands on his belt, he took a short breath before looking at you. Staying silent for a moment.

“The fuck are you playing at y/n? Going out..what? Minutes, after I told you not too! And at fuckin’ night! You asking for a deathwish?” He shook his head and raised his hand, almost speaking with it, exaggerating his point.

“No I-“

“Then why the hell did you go out? On your own! What if a group of walkers came? Or a group of men? Huh?” The question was rhetorical but his voice was loud, sending shivers down your spine. He stopped speaking for a minute to let out a breathy laugh, taking a few steps around the room to gather and calm his thoughts. You took the chance to walk towards him, placing the palm of your hand on his bicep, earning a flinch from him, but he didn’t stop you. Just sighing in return.

“Your trouble, you know that? You don’t listen, you put yourself in danger, you put the group in danger, what if someone other than Daryl found you?!” He exclaimed, not daring to look at you.

“Rick i kno-“ He cut you off, your shame building into anger in reaction, he wouldn’t let you get a word in.

“You could’ve gotten godamn killed y/n! God knows what could’ve happened, you think it’s funny? To go against my will like that? What if you got hurt?” He yelled and it was like a breaking point for you.

“I know! Rick, I know! But I didn’t! You happy? I didn’t get hurt, I didn’t get caught, and nothing happened, yes I went against your will but your not the fucking boss of me!” You stepped back, removing your hand. He finally looked into your eyes, scanning your face, the air grew hot and thick, suddenly your breathing displaced, feeling shock as you collected the events.

His eyes narrowed, tilting his head, contemplating your words “you done? that little outburst make you feel good? Huh?” He asked, his voice so demeaning and degrading, almost like he knew he was the one in control, even if you acted like he wasn’t. He lifted his hand, running it through his hair and you noticed the veins, his hands always being attractive to you. You shook your head, deciding you were better than listening to a man. “I’m done Rick.” You stated, pushing all your thoughts away, no matter how filthy as you took a step forward, attempting to push past him.

He lifted his other arm, blocking the door “don’t fucking be like this y/n, you know damn well it was stupid of you to go out like that and you know damn well, if you leave, you’ll be back by tomorrow begging for it” he spoke, his voice annoyingly calm, anger burning inside you at his words. Something took over and you simply reached your hand into the air and slapped him, hard. Across the cheek.

He stood for a second, his face to the side as he collected what had just happened. He lifted his arm to touch his cheek, redness taking over the skin already. “You really know how to piss me off? Don’t you? Fucking bitch-“ he had slipped, never would he ever be so rude to you, but in the heat of the moment, with his temper through the roof, it was expected. You wouldn’t take it, raising your had again, going in for a second hit, pure rage filling your body but he caught your wrist. Eyes instantly looking into yours, snickering, his grip tight as he shook his head. He would never hurt you, but he sure would mentally humiliate you.

“Oh no..sweetheart, you can get the first hit but there’s no way in hell your getting a second” his voice was deep and gravelly, the pet name standing out drastically compared to the rough things he was saying. “Rick..I’m so sorry, I don’t know wha-“

“No, your just a fucking brat, you know that?” He asked, pushing you against the door surprisingly gently, your arm still in his grip as he looked down at you, a smirk plastered across his face. He held your arm above your head and out of habit you found yourself lifting the other for him, how pathetic.

“I..Rick I’m sorry-“ you almost found yourself begging, in return he just laughed, his large figure hung over yours. He leaned his head down to the crook your neck, his breath hot against your skin and hummed.

“Your not sorry, I bet tomorrow you’ll be doing it again, fucking disobeying me, like the brat you are” he insulted, his beard tickling your collarbone as his other hand dragged along your waist, his fingertips barely even touching your skin, but enough to make you shiver. Your knees grew weak at his tone, finding yourself becoming a mess for him, ashamed at how quick he was able to control you. You were speechless, having no words that could explain the feelings in your chest, the pace of your heart faster than safe.

He hummed at your silence, lips brushing over your throat, pressing tender kisses to the hot skin, as if claiming it to be his. He peppered short kisses up to your jaw, and you could finally feel at ease in the situation, feeling like maybe he had calmed down, even if it was just a smidge. He ghosted a few short kisses to your jaw, whispering in a low tone.

“How can a brat like you be so pretty yet so pathetic for me?” He asked, a sadistic, short laugh erupting from him before a shooting pain was felt through your neck. His teeth sinking into the skin, as sharp as your blade which was currently discarded somewhere on the floor, ripping into your skin hard enough to leave puncture marks. You yelped at the sudden burst of pain, shrinking away the best you could but you were caged between his body and the door. Although, being slightly embarrassed, the pain his action brought a new feeling you had never felt, burning building up in your stomach and rushing all over your body before settling into the heat which had been growing between your legs.

Frantically, your hands moved in his grip, desperately wanting to latch around his neck and tug at the dark curls. He pulled back slightly to suck gently at the tenderness, leaving what you assume to be dark marks before fully pulling away, his eyes flickering between yours and your lips. You knew you looked a mess, eyes half lidded and watering, skin red and hot, lips parted, dry, desperate for his touch.

He shook his head and laughed at the sight of you “look at me” he ordered, his free hand lifting to gently tap at your chin, forcing you to hold eye contact with him. “You regretting going out there yet?” He mumbled, the tone of his voice enough to make you collapse, barely able to hold yourself up any more. His face grew closer, millimetres away, his lips dancing over yours sensually, as if he was purposely teasing you.

A small whine slipped past your lips and his grin spread, looking into your eyes for a moment before allowing his lips to press against yours, humming in content, his hand falling back to your side, feathering light touches over your curves and rib cage, as if your body was carved especially for him, his large hand, even though barely making any physical contact, made your knees buck, finding yourself so overwhelmed you couldn’t even hold yourself up.

He caught you, by the back of your thigh, magically without breaking the kiss, open mouths pressed together as you panted desperately into his. His fingertips drew small circles into your thigh, his touches felt like waves, crashing down all over your body, sending signals to your core, thighs squeezing together in return. A light chuckle pushed past his lips, against yours as he hummed “so fuckin desperate” he mumbled into the kiss, his words causing your breath to hitch, getting caught in your throat.

After a few moments, he pulled back from the kiss, looking at your bruised lips in awe as you caught your breath, eyes scanning over your face. “What should I do with you…hm?” He contemplated, his hand rubbing soft shapes into the plush of your thigh growing closer to the part of you that craved so badly to be touched, big doe eyes looked at him, whining desperately.

He just laughed, his other hand freeing your wrist’s to touch your face, dragging his thumb across your cheek. Shaking his head as he tutted “I could…teach you a lesson..fuck you till your begging me to stop” he hummed. “Or, I could leave you here, begging for me, let ya think about what you’ve done” he grinned, teasing you, his voice lower than usual.

“Rick..come on, please” you started, hand reaching for his bicep as the other started at his chest, pushing it up. “Please..” your voice was embarrassingly whiny, as if he had actually managed to take full control over you. He snickered in return to your touches “just cause your treating me all nice now darlin doesn’t change what you said before, what you did.” He shook his head. His voice bubbled inside your stomach, the low tones doing something awfully filthy to you.

With a groan you pushed back against his chest “Rick, fuck I’m sorry” the way he was treating you had made you almost, less sorry, maybe you wanted it to carry on. Maybe you wanted him to treat you like this more often. He raised his brow, looking at where you had pushed him, pathetically obviously, he had you trapped in an awkward position you could escape from if you tried. While watching his facial reactions, you decided to knock yourself further down, shoving his chest “stop fucking teasing ri-“

Slap. A harsh stinging spread throughout the skin of your cheek, the pain pleasuring in the most confusing way as you shakily gasped. Without giving you time to think his hand slipped under your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes, it shouldn’t feel this good, you should be embarrassed of scared, but you aren’t, the way his eyes stared deep into yours, breath heavy, made your stomach tighten, letting out shameful whines as he looked at you in the most demeaning way possible.

“Not nice is it? Being slapped?” He started, thumb brushing over the spot he had just abused “or maybe you did like it? Maybe your that dirty of a girl you want me to hurt you” he smirked, shaking his head as he spoke. Lowering his head, dragging his lips over the sensitive skin of your neck, lightly kissing every so often, leaving you shaking.

“Rick..I’m so sorry, please, please just touch me” Delicate hands fell into his hair, instead of tugging like usual, you gently wrapped it around your fingers, not wanting to anger him any more. He hummed into your neck, sure he loved teasing you, but it also meant teasing himself to do so. He kissed at the bruised skin from earlier for a longer moment before lifting his head. He removed his hands from your thighs, letting you drop to your knees as he began to unbuckle his belt. Excitement grew in your heart as you realised he was finally getting to the good bit.

“If you do a good enough job here sweetheart, I might just give ya what you want..” he pulled his belt off agonisingly slow. “Arms up” he mumbled and wrapped the belt around your wrists once you did “but..” he carried on “If you don’t..we’ll you sure as hell will know to listen to me from now on” he snickered and unbuttoned his jeans.

“You have an issue with that?” He asked, it sounded rhetorical but truthfully he was checking on you, wanting to make sure he wasn’t taking it to far. You shook your head, a sense of desperation in your action as he just smirked, his hand tucking a hair behind your ear “good..fuckin’ girl” he murmured, tugging his pants down, along with his boxers, just enough to free his cock. Swallowing thickly at the size of him, a few shaky breaths leaving your mouth. He wrapped a hand around the base of his length, swiping precursors over your lips as you parted them for him, looking up at him with doe eyes as he cursed under his breath.

Slowly, you took his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him with a sense of certainty, focused on the task at hand, so badly wanting ti reach out, rest your hands on his thighs and dig you nails into the skin but being completely incapable, your wrists bound behind your back. With more confidence you took more of him into your mouth, humming at the taste of him on your tongue, sending vibrations through his body, his head tipping back in euphoria, letting out a low groan at the feeling.

You couldn’t fit his full length into your mouth but you did what you could, his tip hitting the back of your throat rhythmically as you held back the urge to gag, eyes brimming with tears as you watched him from below. His eyes fluttered shut as he reached one hand to the back of your head, fisting your hair into a makeshift ponytail. He let out a strain of curses, pushing your head further onto his cock, controlling your pace with his fist, tugging gently at your hair. “Fuck, that’s it..right there” he grumbled, hips sputtering as you began to feel choked up, he gave warning signs that he was close, his movements sporadic and curses growing faster.

Happily, you helped him, speeding up your actions to try and rude out his high as he came undone with a few lone thrusts, the taste of him strong on your tongue. He slowly pulled his length out of you mouth, watching as you swallowed, lips swollen and a few tears running down your cheeks. He just smiled, removing his hand from your hair to swipe his thumb over your lips, cleaning you up slightly. “Fuck…look so pretty like this” he chuckled lightly “stand up” he moved back, reaching his hand out to help you up before snickering, remembering you couldn’t move your hands. He walked around you, agonisingly slow, the senior thick as he slowly undid his belt from around your wrists, freeing them with afew soft kisses to the skin.

You were on your feet in seconds, looking at expectantly, silently pleading with just a pathetic facial expression. His eyes flickered over you, tilting his head “does the pretty little thing think she deserves to be touched?” He asked, hand stroking over your cheek, wiping one of the stray tears away, you nodded desperately, hand landing on his. He nodded “mkay, think you’ve learned your lesson huh?” His hands went to the back of your thighs, lifting you into the air and placing you on his dining table, swiftly making work of pulling your shirt over your head. You stayed silent, feeling like you had no more words, stuck in place, throat dry and eyes half lidded as his lips brushed over the skin of your chest.

“Hey, I asked you a question” his voice was clear and stern, lifting his head to look at you once again, his eyes intimidating you in ways you can’t describe, his fingertips dragging over your thigh, rubbing small circles into the plush. In return you nodded “I’ve learned my lesson” you mumbled, thighs squeezing at his words, earning a low chuckle from him.

“Good” he stated, tugging your pants down to your ankles, his other hand spreading over your thigh, gripping ever so slightly, digging into the skin as he leaned back down, giving you what you had wanted, more drastic touches, actual kisses down your collar bone, nipping at the skin gently with his teeth as small whimpers left your mouth.

His hot breath against your skin was like a relief, blood shooting around your body, heat rushing straight to your core as he muttered degrading things against your skin, your hands falling around his neck, playing with the collar of his shirt. “Rick..” you whined and he just grinned, feeling it against your chest. His finger trips dragged over your thigh and to the hem of your underwear, toying with the fabric, brushing over your clothed heat. You found yourself panting, even the lightest of touches caused your lips to part, quiet noises escaping from your throat.

He just ignored any kind of noise you made, enjoying how greedy he could make you feel, his calloused hands feeling amazing against the hotness of your skin, burning up in his hands. After what felt like a lifter one he finally tugged your panties down to your ankles, smirking at how quickly you lifted your hips for him. “So fuckin desperate..you gonna misbehave again?” He asked, letting his right hand slip between your thighs, thumb gently circling your clit, his hot breath fanning your chest as he spoke.

With a sharp gasp, you shook your head fast, overjoyed that he finally touched you, he applied a slight more pressure and asked you again “are you going to misbehave?” And with that you spoke up, voice shaky and dry “no, I promise Rick, I won’t” He nodded at your answer and stood up straight.

“You need any prep?” He asked sincerely, his left hand rubbing your thigh affectionately, still being the kind man he was. Quickly, you shook your head, don’t think he realises just how much you needed him. With that he nodded again, lining himself up with your cunt and looking into your half lidded eyes, already looking worn out from how he had treat you. He smirked and leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours, both of your eyes fluttering closed. You could feel him pushing into you, filling you up, his size still bringing slight pain and shock to your core no matter how many times he did this. He let you grow accustomed to him, deepening the kiss, your lips parted as you let out quiet whimpers into his mouth.

A few seconds passed before he began to move, the kiss becoming less stable and more sloppy as he even let out gruff moans, your noises becoming louder and less pathetic. His left hand flew to your lower back, holding you in place as he thrusted into you, the kiss broke when your head tipped back and he took his chance to drag his teeth over your throat, kissing at the skin like earlier, both of your bodies moving in sync as he roughly began to pound into you.

You swore the table was moving with you both, your hands fumbling with his hair, tugging at the dark locks. He sucked sharp, dark marks into the skin of your neck, your core tightening as your thighs trapped him in place.

“Rick- fuck..I’m close” you mumbled out in between moans, eyes screwed shut as his thumb began to circle your clit at a faster pace than earlier. “That’s it sweetheart, cum for me” he mumbled into the crook of your neck, his movements becoming less rhythmic as you assumed he grew close. A few harsh thrust brought you over the edge, pleasure coursing through you as your thighs found themselves shaking ever so slightly. He watched your orgasm intently, riding out your high as he came undone. “Fuck you look so good-“ he mumbled under his breath, moving a few more times inside of you before placing his hands either side of you, resting his head in your chest. “Holy shit”

You let out a breathy, worn out laugh and so did he, his hand stroking your back “you okay?” He asked, lifting his head to look into your eyes, his other hand reaching to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over the skin gently. “I hurt you to bad?”

“Definitely not.” You stated and smiled at him, he pulled out of you, helping both you and him get your clothes back on before heading to the sink. He poured a small glass of water and took a sip himself, walking over and handing it to you.

“Hey, if that’s how you act when I misbehave, might have to do it more often” you joked, taking a sip and he just shot you a disappointed look.

This took me SO LONG to write and I had to ask Kate for so many word ideas because I had used up all my usuals, fucking funny.

#rick grimes twd #rick twd #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes smut #twd smut #twd fanfiction #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes #twd rick

[retroellie]

The Weight of the World

Summary: the horrors of the world are once again nipping at you, decisions that could lead to deaths lay upon your shoulders. Daryl wants to cheer you up in the way he knows you love.

A/N: I know it’s late but I wanted to post another Daryl fic because I’m a whore for him :) This is kinda sloppy and I made in like 2 hours on very little sleep so hey :) enjoy <3

Warnings: NSFW, mentions of torture (regular twd things) , dirty talk, unprotected sex

Word count: 3.7K

This week has been exhausting, mentally and physically. Your body felt as though someone had piled pounds of bricks on top of you, all the while scratching at your bruised skin. It was draining you of your emotions and ability to function. The whisperers were gaining on Alexandria, the threat of the hoard being released floating over everyone’s heads. This caused panic and worry, the walls wouldn’t be able to withhold them and the people inside couldn’t fight them off.

This led to everyone in the council, you and daryl included, to make some hard decisions. Everyone that ran the town was on their toes at all times, always looking for answers to every problem that threatened the town you called home. These problems led to you having to take care of alphas daughter, trying to hunt down Negan and now you even had a whisper tied up underneath your home. You were barely getting any sleep, barely eating and you had no time to spend with Daryl which meant your relationship wasn’t doing the best.

Obviously Daryl understood this, he was also dealing with shit and didn’t have time to do anything for himself. With trying to locate the hoard as well as trying to keep Carol from killing everyone, he had his hands full. The way this was affecting you hurt him though, seeing your exhausted eyes, all red and puffy all the while you were trying to come up with a plan to hunt down negan… it pained him. He was used to having so much on his plate that this didn’t affect him too harshly, he could go days without sleep and only live in crackers but you weren’t like him.

He tried to tell you to get some sleep and even tried to force some food down your throat but you didn’t have time. He just let you take your time because that’s all he could do, is wait for you to realize that none of this shit mattered. You would always find a way to get everything back to it, it always worked out for y’all so Daryl wasn’t too worried about you going sleepless and hungry for too long.

For now though you trudged up the stairs to your shared home with Daryl and Carol, or pretty much everyone who came and went a lot. You were exhausted and honestly disgusted at what you just did. Before this moment you had watched carol beat the ever living fuck out of a whisperer and you even got a few punches in there. This didn’t feel like you, you weren’t the type yo torture someone and you were even the one who was strongly against it. Well that’s until the man started talking, he gave strong details about what he’d do to you if he was a free man and found you in the woods.

You were mad, you couldn’t help but lay him flat on his ass and maybe you even took a few fingers with you. But right now though, you told Lydia to make herself at home. You made her comfortable in your guest bed room, giving her blankets and towels for if she wanted to wash up. After that though you walked downstairs to the basement to yours and Daryl’s shared room.

When you stepped foot into the room you saw Daryl, he was unpacking his backpack, setting his crossbow and bows down. You stared at him for a minute, wondering what he was thinking. He did just see you torture a man, well a man that was talking about sexually assaulting his girlfriend. Daryl has done things he’s not proud of, he has seen the dark underbelly of people but what was he thinking about his “innocent '' little girlfriend doing those same things.

You shook your head, walking towards the coach and plopping down. You laid your head back, trying to stretch out your stiff muscles and shake the exhaustion off tired bones. You sighed, putting your feet up on top of the coffee table as you shut your eyes for a split moment.

“You need sleep.” You heard Daryl say, not turning around to look at you.

You looked over at him, seeing him mess with his backpack. You rolled your eyes slightly, you hated when he said that. It was maybe the 30th time you had heard those words come out of his mouth and everytime it annoyed you. I mean how could you rest when everything, the fate of Alexandria, the protecting of your friends, the capturing of the man who killed your friends, was all on your shoulders.

“Yeah…” was all you said, you didn’t feel like protesting.

You sat up, starting to untie your shoes. They were muddy and covered in blood. Come to think of it, you were covered in blood. The whisperer's blood still streaked your clothes, still fresh but it was starting to dry on your skin. You quickly took off your boots, not wanting to think of the horrors you just did and just wanting to lie on this couch with no worries, if that was even possible. When you succeed with pulling your shoes off you stand up once more, pulling off your bloody sweater.

You lifted it up to see all the blood had stained it, still bright red and standing to attention. You rolled your eyes, throwing it over to the dirty clothes basket and then making your way to the dresser that sat right next to the table Daryl stood at. You dug through the drawers, trying to find another shirt you could wear.

Daryl couldn’t help but watch as you dug through the drawers, watching your bra covered breast heave up and down. He knew it was wrong of him, seeing you in such a distressed state and getting all hot but he couldn’t help it. While you both were neglecting your relationship, your sex life hadn't been much better. So the slight glimpse of your unclothed body would send Daryl in a mood of wanting your touch.

You found a shirt, a clean band tee that you’ve had forever now and you stood in the mirror that laid against the wall. You could see yourself in your entirety now. The blood had stained through your clothes and onto your stomach along with your chest but also you had new bruises forming which added onto the pain of your exhaustion. You didn’t even hear or see Daryl sneak up behind you, you were too focused on your blood soaked body right now.

He had crept his hands around your waist, being careful as to not press too hard onto your newly formed bruises. You jumped slightly before remembering he was in the room with you, then you melted back into him.

“Even all bloody and smelly, you’re still the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen..” he whispered, taking one hand and moving your hair from your neck.

You chuckled as his lips attached to your neck softly. He kissed the spots that made you nothing but putty in his hands, your eyes closed slowly as he did wonders with his lips. His hands gripped onto your hips softly, rubbing soft circles on your skin. He tried to be careful with your fragile body, knowing you could take anything that comes your way but wanting to be the one thing that made you feel like you didn’t have to try.

His lips attached to your neck, biting down lightly on the spot that made you gasp. You pressed yourself into him, your ass grazing his hardening cock. He let out a soft groan, biting down harder onto your soft skin. One of his hands made their way up to your breasts, needing one of them in his hands gently. This caused you to throw your head back onto his shoulder, moaning softly at the sudden touch.

He sucked harder on your skin, your reaction fueling his actions. You couldn’t deny how touch starved you were, how weak in the knees you had gotten when seeing Daryl in his button up shirts, all sweaty and dirt streaked his face. This was hell to you, not being able to be with him every day. It ate you up inside and Daryl knew it, there just wasn’t enough time. It was either you were gone or he was gone or Gabriel asked you to do this or Carol asked Daryl to do that… it was never ending. Moments like this you basked in them, you soaked them up and right now you were going to take it.

“What you did to that man…” he spoke in between his kisses.

The hand in your hip lowered down to the top of your jeans, unbuttoning them slowly. His actions were drawn out, going as slow as he could to take in the moment with you.

“Seein’ you like that… so angry and aggressive” he continued.

He unzipped your fly, giving you feather-like kisses on your skin now. His fingers danced above your panties, teasingly slow as you grabbed onto his hand that was continuing his movement on your boob. Your body had turned burning hot and he was the only one that could cool you down now.

“I think that might’ve been the hottest thing I had ever seen you do…” he admitted, slipping his fingers into your panties before teasing your slit.

Daryl watched you from a far as you beat the living hell out of the whisperer, watching him beg for you to stop as you put the blade against his throat. You were angry, you hadn’t been this angry in a long time and the anger just kept building up until you couldn’t handle it anymore. He watched as your arms flexed every time you threw a punch, making the blush on his face more noticeable. He was so in love with you, with everything you did even something so disgusting like what you were doing.

You’re finger dug into his hand, practically begging him to touch you without even saying anything. He chuckled lowly, giving you everything you wanted and more. He shoved two fingers in you without hesitation, making you gasp out into the air. The feeling of the delicious stretch blurred your senses, leaning more on Daryl than you already had been. It had been so long since you two have had such an intimate moment like this, weeks maybe a month at most. The stress of it all really affects your desire for intimacy but your love never dulled.

You bucked your hips against Daryl’s fingers, your wetness already making a mess out of them. It didn’t take you long to become a quivering mess, your moans trying to escape your mouth but being swallowed back down. You were embarrassed at your sensitivity, you were well respected around town for being so high headed but all it took was Daryl’s fingers to show what you really are… a needy little whore.

“Come on honey… don’t hold up on me now.” He whispered in your ear, biting your lobe lightly.

Daryl curled his fingers in a rough way, grazing your g-spot.You bit your lip harder, not wanting the two girls who were just above you to hear what was happening just below them. Daryl grinned at you, knowing exactly what he was doing. He sped up his movements, thrusting his fingers deep inside of you before curling them to graze your spot again before continuing to thrust deeper inside.

Your body felt like it was on fire, your blood streaked skin turning bright red and your face had a small sheet of sweat that coated it. You wanted more of Daryl … no not wanted, you needed it. You could cum with just his fingers now but you wanted all of him inside you, you wanted to feel him so deep inside you that all the horrible things that man said to you were far gone and all you could think about was how good Daryl’s cock felt inside you. You were nobody’s bitch but Daryl’s, no matter if you admired it or not.

“Daryl… please.. just fuck me… SHIT.” You yelled out at a particular delicious angle that Daryl hit.

Daryl didn’t hesitate to your surprise, with his fingers still deep inside you, he walked you over to the desk that he was once sitting on and slammed you on top of it. You felt your bruises as he did so but it felt so good, you didn’t mind it.

“Dirty slut… so needy for my cock” Daryl hissed, taking his fingers out of you and quickly shoving them in your mouth.

It took you a minute to register what was happening, your body still aching from injury but when his fingers hit your tongue and you could taste your own juices… you sucked them clean. Daryl’s free hand grabbed your hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail so he could pull you up to watch as you sucked on his fingers.

“You like that hmmm..???” He teased, shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth until they reached the back of your throat. “You like when I treat you like the whore you are hmm… so cock starved for me?”

You licked every crevice of his fingers, loving the taste of yourself mixed with Daryl’s flesh and all Daryl could do was watch you. He subconsciously rubbed against your ass, getting insanely hard just watching you.  You moved your head to the side, looking at him with puppy dog eyes. He took his now clean fingers out of your mouth, watching as a single piece of your saliva connected the two.

“I just want you inside me Daryl!!” You started bucking your hips back onto his hard cock. “Please, I’ll do anything!! Just please fuck me until I can’t stand, in anyway you want too just please!! I want you!!” You pleaded

You sounded pathetic you know but you were desperate for him. You have wanted him so badly for weeks now, the sexual frustration building up until just now when all you can think about is him rearranging your insides. Daryl grinned, pulling on your hair tighter. He thought about all the ways he was going to make you suffer tonight, thinking about how he’d fuck you silly until everyone in the whole town could hear and he couldn’t wait to make his thoughts a reality. Daryl moved his hand down to your pants, ripping them off your legs and then started to remove his own.

“You're gonna wish you never begged me hun…” he said, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down. “Because I ain’t going to hold back…”

Daryl moved his hand from your hair to your neck, wrapping his hand around your neck before tightening his grip. He lined himself up to you, teasing your entrance slowly, getting his cock nice and wet so he could fuck you nice and smooth.

“Gonna fuck you until your just a cock dumb whore…” he whispered, putting small amounts of pressure on your neck.

You bucked your hips back at him, wanting him inside you already and he was going to give you what you wanted. He shoved himself in you quickly, feeling your velvety walls along the way could make him cum just then. He held himself back from going at an animalistic pace, trying to allow you to adjust to him since it had been a couple weeks. You swore you could feel your eyes go cross eyed, he was in you so deep right off the bat.

He stayed there for a moment until he couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to fill you up, he needed to fuck you until you couldn’t think straight. He pulled himself almost all the way out before ramming into you nice and deep once again. He kept his slow deep pace for only minutes until his hips began to have a mind of their own and started thrusting into you wildly.

His hand on your throat, the table digging into your hips, his cock filling you… it was enough to send you off of earth completely. You couldn’t stop the moans escaping your mouth this time, they fell out of your lips like honey and Daryl basked in them, they only encouraged his movements.

“God…you’re so fuckin’ tight…” he spit out, his free hand exploring your body, making their way to your bra that had somehow still been on.

He grabbed at one of your boobs, feeling the soft flesh beneath his fingers as he played with it. This sent you to overdrive, you were so close to an orgasm and Daryl knew too but he had no intentions of stopping. He only sped up his actions, fucking you at such a fast pace you were cumming in mere seconds after that.

The orgasm ran through your body, leaving you shaking and unable to stand properly. Daryl kept his pace, only slowly down when you clenched around him tightly, making sure you were okay but then keeping up with his same pace before. You didn’t want him to stop, even after orgasming once you still craved the feeling of him filling you to the brim.

His hand on your neck tightened more once again but this time he brought you up, pulling your flush against his front. Brought you into a kiss, a sloppy wet kiss that had no real rhythm to it. Teeth masked, tongues collided and lips were bitten. Daryl’s hand on your boob hooked around the cup of your bra, pulling them down along with the straps.

“Lemme see those tits hmm…” he hummed in between a kiss.

Your tits bounced free which caused Daryl’s attention to be turned to them. The way they bounced every thrust made Daryl feral, he couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled out of your for only a split second, taking the time to flip you over onto your back and placing you on top of the table.

Your reaction was delayed due to your post orgasm brain fog but also you being on the verge of yet another orgasm. Daryl spread your legs as far as he could, spread you out so deliciously for him and than he went right back to fucking you. Your head cocked back, resting on the wall as your face was stuck in a look of pure pleasure.

“Daryl! Please.... FUCK... cum inside me....” you screamed out, wrapping your legs around his waist basically pinning him inside you.

Daryl thrusted harder and harder, his hips becoming more wild as he came closer to his orgasm. You pulled him closer to you, kiss him roughly as you pulled his dark locks. You were so close to your second orgasm when Daryl came deep inside of you, his cum filling you up so nicely. Daryl’s hips slowed but still continued to fuck himself through his own orgasm while also brining your closer to your own . You bucked your hips into his as your brain was once again taken by a earth shattering orgasm that almost knocked you clean out.

You felt Daryl twitch inside you as you came, his orgasm wiping him out as well. He stayed close to you as you saw stars, his hand rubbing your back softly and comfortably. You were shaking violently underneath him, his cum along with yours mixed onto the table and created a sticky mess. You two stayed silent for a minute or two, taking in the stillness of the room.

It was moments like this that you would choose over anything. Moments so intimate yet so filthy, it was pure heaven to you. Daryl felt the same, he would give anything just to be able to be in this moment forever. You comfortably stroked Daryl’s back with your fingernails, pulling him close to you.

“I missed you…” Daryl whispered

You had been here this whole time, you guys never left each other’s side… you had made an agreement not too a long time ago when you first met in Atlanta. Daryl couldn’t explain the way he missed you though, you were there but you weren’t THERE to him. Only a stressed out shell of what you used to be. He can’t blame you, you’ve been through a lot these last couple of months and he’s been with you through it all.

“I’ve been here the entire time dar…” you spoke, voice worn and almost gone.

“No I mean.. I missed YOU… I missed the Y/N I have always known.” He explained

He didn’t mean that in a mean way but he just knew that this world changed you into a person you weren’t and he could start to see it happen to you. The shy little book reading girl you once were was disappearing and being replaced by this emotionless woman. He loves you for every version you were but he wanted to see the real you and not the one the world has forced you to turn into.

“Well… you Daryl Dixon, are the only one who can ever bring me back to earth…” you stated. “And that’s why I’m so pathetically in love with you.”

Daryl smiled, pulling you into a long kiss that this time felt more romantic and less sloppy. You knew the decisions you still had yet to make were just right out your door but for now you would like to bask in this moment with your lover. You could worry about the horrors of the world later, it can wait and it can be put in pause so you can make this night yours.

#daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #the walking dead fanfiction

[nickybloodhead]

oh my god your recent post was so good. could you expand/write something about literally dominating james in bed though!! please and thank you you’re the best <3

Oh yeah, let's make James a bitch now, shall we?

James was lying on the bed with you on top of him holding his wrists, you smiled smugly at him having him speechless and with flushed cheeks.

"What's the matter handsome, cat got your tongue? You teased him with a sly look, he was sighing shakily as watching you take control was doing things to him, he gulped and shook his head. You chuckled and moved up to his face to steal a quick kiss accompanied by a playful bite on his bottom lip, James' hips moved up a little and bumped against your crotch.

"Baby, come on…" His voice was huskier than usual, with his eyes begging for mercy to finally feel some pleasure as you had been playing with him for too long. You smiled mischievously at him and released his wrists, of course not before giving him a warning look to keep his hands to himself.

Slowly you moved down to spread kisses along his neck, chest and abdomen, you wanted to make him lose his mind with pleasure. You fiddled with the waistband of his shorts and pulled it down to reveal his fat, throbbing erection, you licked your lips at the sight of that delicious cock standing proud and erect that you would soon have in your mouth.

"Shit, I always forget how huge you are" You spit into your hand and wrap it around his girth so you massage up and down as you look into his eyes, James gasps and drops his head back with a big shuddering sigh.

"You're going to kill me if you don't do something now, please" His voice falters as he tries to pronounce the words correctly, his abdomen contracting with each caress. You pout derisively and chuckle at the sight of him reduced to a panting mess.

"Aw, aren't you cute when you beg like that?" You kiss his inner thighs without breaking eye contact with him, James can't help but moan this time as his cock twitches. You bring your mouth to his length and lick a path down it to finally put it between your lips and suck his tip, massage his balls and squeeze lightly as you love watching the mighty Hetfield squirm like a little slut. James has the cutest moans as despite his deep voice, they come out higher pitched than necessary plus his face contorts into a grimace that makes his lips look deliciously fleshy and pink. You suck him for a while, taking as much of his cock as you can, lick and jerk him off for a while until you know he's close, then you stop suddenly causing him to moan in desperate whimpering.

"Fuck, don't stop" He mumbles completely gone in his cloud of ecstasy to the point where his hand moves to grab his cock, of course you don't allow it and slap his hand away.

"Hands still, remember sexy little thing?" You reprimand him and climb onto his lap, his length rubbing against your dripping wet slit. "Ask nicely and I'll be sure to ride you good, I might even let you cum this time" You raise your eyebrows and look at him condescendingly as your hands roam his chest in a tantalizing caress.

You felt his body shudder under your weight, his eyes glistened with lust. You knew he could throw it all away and just turn you over and fuck you wildly, however James was enjoying watching his girl take control over him too much, he was really turned on so swallowing his pride, he decided to beg.

"Please pretty girl just…let me have you" You tilted your head in pleased at his words so you lifted up a little and lined his cock up in your hole to let him sink into you, you closed your eyes and moaned his name as you felt your walls accommodate to the large size of his girth, rested your hands on his chest and as promised you started to ride him.

You both moaned in complete pleasure as you rocked your hips to create friction against your clit, you were leaking all over his abdomen with every bounce as your pussy swallowed every inch of his cock, his hands gripped the sheets tightly as watching you take him so well was driving him crazy. The sound of splashing echoed throughout the room, you were both making a fucking mess but it felt so good that you didn't really give a shit; your thighs clenched around his hips as you were on the verge of orgasm.

"May I?" James was so lost he could barely utter these two words, he was fucking cute as he asked you for permission to dump his load on you. You weren't much better, you nodded granting him your permission to cum as you slammed into him faster.

With what little strength he had left he sat up and wrapped his arms around your waist to hold you down and fill you with his cum, he grunted as he spilled his release deep into you, that caused you to clench his cock as you cum with a satisfied squeal.

Then with his arms still holding you, you both fell to the bed completely sated and exhausted, your pussy still fluttering around his length milking every last drop of cum out of him.

"How good you were to me, you definitely earned the right to breed me, handsome" You whispered with breath still hitching, making James to chuckle softly and cradle your face for a languid, lazy kiss.

Imagine calling James sexy little thing 🤭

#this was pretty vanilla #but anyways #I'd love to be a little bossy with james in bed #make him desperate enough for me to beg #jaymz #early 90s james #james hetfield #james hetfield smut

[theflagscene]

Not to be that guy, but Night wasn’t actually to blame for the car crash that caused Day’s TBI that lead to him losing his eyesight. Night got fall down drunk yes, Day was his designated driver but he didn’t have to go, he could’ve sent a cab/uber/car to get him. But they clearly were close enough that he wanted to get his older brother home without getting him in trouble with their mother, so they were brotherly once. Night was near passed out in the back of the car, Day was chastising him for being a brat and getting drunk and having Day chauffeur him around again. A little argument that sounded like they had many times before, so this was nothing new. Whilst no doubt annoying to Day, not really that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things.

But when Night started to dry heave in the backseat, Day was far more concerned about the possibility of a mess in his car instead of actually worrying about his brother being sick. He was so worried about his car’s interior that he ducked his head below the console to look for a plastic bag for Night to vomit in, instead of maybe just pulling over onto the shoulder of road or finding an exit to locate a gas station. No, he took his eyes completely off the road and leaned over the centre console to dig around the passenger side area looking for a bag. Which led to him either swerving into oncoming traffic or not seeing another car swerving into his lane, but Night saw it and screamed in terror, which alerted Day to his massive fuck up.

The car crash was completely Day’s doing, Night wasn’t even in the front seat. Day could have very well killed himself, his brother and whoever he hit in the other car. Like I was saying to @negrowhat, Day should be happy all that happened was that he ended up going blind from his injury, instead of ending up in prison for vehicular manslaughter.

Trust me, I understand survivors guilt, too damn well. But the fact that Day is torturing Night to the point that even Night blames himself for what happened, it’s just unfair. Yes, Day is in pain, he’s angry, he’s lost everything and he feels like Night is taking over as the golden child, which Day used to be. But it’s not like Night asked for this, he was proud of his baby brother, he didn’t need to be the golden child, he was perfectly fine boasting about his talented nong to other people. But now Night has been painted the villain and by Day himself, Night’s self-loathing for getting drunk that evening and the ‘if only’ thoughts are driving him to the point of allowing Day to basically use him as an emotional punching bag.

Day has every right to feel as upset as he does, trust me, as someone who is slowly going blind themselves, and from a car crash too - although I was not the driver, I was in the backseat - I completely understand where he’s coming from. His whole life has changed, people are treating him differently, his entire future has shifted, people talk to him like he’s a small dumb child that needs a pat on the head and to be pitied. But none of that is Night’s fault, Day’s anger is so damn misplaced. Day doesn’t just need Mhok in his life, he also needs a damn good therapist!

#last twlight the series #last twilight night #last twilight day #last twilight meta #last twilight spoilers

[countryclubkook]

Too kind for your own good

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, blood, death, language, toxic father and son relationship, small mention of abuse (ward slaps Rafe), guns, spoilers for obx, language, very violent and intense situation, there is no happiness here, this is pure heartbreak and angst with no fluff in sight

Summary: You find out the truth about Rafe and he doesn’t take it so well, now he has to make a choice. You or his father, but things don’t exactly go as planned and he has to suffer the consequences of his own selfish actions.

A/N: I don’t know how I feel about the ending because I could not figure out how I wanted this to end but I needed to get it out so I hope you enjoy. The timelines in this are a bit different from the show and there are certain things mentioned here that happen at different times in the show than in the story and that is solely for writing purpose,

“Oh princess, can’t say i’m surprised to see you turn against us. You always were too kind for your own good” Rafe’s voice was slow and taunting, a sadistic look of happiness on his face at the way your body tensed up and how your eyes went dark at the sight of him.

The gun that he’d used to shoot Sarah waving around in the air as if it was his prize. Her blood still staining your mind from the picture you’d seen when they talked to the police, not knowing whether or not she’d made it after the adrenaline inevitably wore off made you sick. It wasn’t until the three of you got back to OBX and Kelce ran to the country club telling Rafe he’d seen her and John B that you’d known she was still alive. You never thought Rafe would try to kill his own sister, you didn’t think he was capable of killing anyone until you found out the truth about Peterkin.

“I’ll miss you Y/N. I’ll make sure your pretty face is the headline of every news station though, can’t just let you die without the fame of it all. And John B over there,” he nodded to the unconscious body of the innocent teen boy that was blamed for all this mess, the boy who had been through so much for wanting to find gold and be with the girl he loves, “He’ll be easy to frame for your…tragic end. I mean come on, you’re my girlfriend, you tried to reason with him and keep him away from my dad and I because he was becoming unhinged and it got ugly, he shot you and then himself. Problem solved”

Your breathing hitched as you tried backing away from him. Your legs felt like jelly and your hands were shaking uncontrollably, you’d never seen Rafe like this and it was scaring you. He wasn’t actually going to kill you right? The way he took long strides towards you was telling you otherwise, the crazy yet calm look in his eyes as if you were nothing to him hurt you more than any weapons could. You remained quiet though, something that seemed to piss him off.

“Why are you so quiet huh? Fucking answer me bitch!” it took everything in you not to flinch. Instead, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath in.

“What do you want me to say Rafe? What am I supposed to say in this situation?” your voice trembled slightly and you cursed your body for giving away your true fear. He let out a humorless chuckle and began to circle you.

“You can beg, I know you’re good at that. All those little home videos of you on your knees begging me to use you, to hurt you, to do whatever I want, they prove that” you swallowed back tears and gave him a look of acceptance. There was nothing you could do to prevent your death, why bother fighting it and giving him the satisfaction?

“Why? Why not just kill me now huh? Kill me and John B and take what you’ve always wanted Rafe, make your daddy proud” he looks at you with furrowed brows and tilted his head slightly.

“What?” he asks in confusion, watching as you slowly walked towards him with seemingly no fear.

“I said,” another step towards him until you were directly in front of him “kill me. Fucking kill me Rafe”

His face tensed, you were supposed to be scared, beg him to let you go, not beg him to kill you. What the fuck was happening right now?

“Y/N-“ you cut him off with a harsh shove to his chest.

“Murder me Rafe! Fucking murder me like you murdered Sheriff Pete” shove.

“Shoot me like you shot your sister!” another shove before you began beating on his chest with closed fists.

“Murder me Rafe! MURDER ME!” you began screaming as something inside you snapped. All the fear, all the betrayal, the confusion, all of it coming to the surface and exploding.

“Y/N stop! What-“ again he was cut off by a combination of hits and shoves as you broke down in front of him.

“MURDER ME! MURDER ME! MURDER ME! MU-“ a harsh gasp leaving your throat as you gripped onto the fabric of his shirt. Neither one of you looked down knowing it wasn’t good.

He watched in pure fear and panic as his father pulled a knife out of your back and shoved you to the ground. His face was void of emotion as he watched Rafe fall to the ground with you and cradle your bleeding out frame. Tears had fallen onto your cheeks like little rain droplets as Rafe’s eyes teared up just the same.

“Dad, what did you do? What the fuck did you do?!” his voice came out in a broken yell as he tried to apply pressure to your stomach in hopes it would stop the bleeding.

But the blood kept pouring out, staining his hands. The ring you’d bought him for your one year anniversary now covered in your blood, he was going to have to hold you as you died, all because of him, with the jewels you gave him. How fucking twisted was that? Your pained groan pulled him out of his thoughts as he quickly realized he couldn’t save you. Your clothes were soaked in blood as were his pants, and the pool of blood had soaked your hair and left small streaks on your face.

Ward stood there with a look of disappointment at the scene in front of him. “We need to take care of him now son. We can’t let emotion get in the way, I mean it’s not like you loved her that much anyway seeing as you were about to kill her” he was right. Rafe was about to kill you and pin it all on John B solely because you’d seen how much of a monster he was and wanted to leave. All his potential to be good and have a good thing ruined just for his dad’s acceptance. But it’s not like he could change it now, especially when your blood was caked onto his hands.

“W-well, I guess this is how it ends. Who would,” you cough, blood pooling in your throat as you do, “who would have thought” a sad yet lazy smile on your face.

“I-i’m sorry baby. I’m so fucking sorry” he meant for everything. For dragging you into this mess, for being the reason you died, for being so fucked up and needing his dads approval and acceptance so bad that he threw all the good down the drain just to get it.

All he could do was mutter small apologies as he cradled and rocked your cold and bloody body while your breathing got slower and slower until it stopped, one final raspy breath in and a small gurgle sound caught in the back of your throat. His face screwed up as tears formed in his eyes, he couldn’t be bothered to wipe them. He wanted to keep holding you until you were pried from his hands, but Ward had other plans. There was no time for him to mourn on his schedule.

“Rafe. come on son,” a deep sigh filled the room as Ward wiped his hands on his face “Let’s finish this. Make me proud, we’re so close to this being done”.

Right. John B was still there, this was all for gold and not just some tragic accident that he could genuinely say he had no part in. His hands reached for your face, gently moving his fingers to close your eyes that he used to look so deeply into out of pure love and admiration, to trace every last feature of yours one last time. You looked so beautiful even in death, that’s all Rafe could think about. How his girl managed to look so beautiful even after being fucking stabbed and covered in her own blood.

“I love you. I’m sorry” one last kiss to your cold and parted lips before he stood, gently laying your body on the ground.

“Good, now come on. Help me with John B, if we kill him here we can make it look like a set up” fuck, this was crazy. Sure Rafe hated the pogues and wanted to get the gold…but he also loved you. But he loved his dad as well and he was just starting to be proud of him and accept him as his son, what was he supposed to do?

“Rafe!” Ward's voice pulled him out of his thoughts “Come on son, what are you doing?”

He watched Rafe pace back and forth, his hands pulling at his hair before roughly pressing onto his eyes. He was starting to get nervous at his son’s erratic behavior and knew he needed to help ground him before he lost total control and did something that would fuck them both.

“Dad, I'm not okay. This isn’t okay, oh my god you killed her. You killed her dad, why did you do that?” he repeated to Ward over and over again before he came over and placed his hands on both sides of Rafe’s face.

“It’s okay, you’re okay son. We’re going to get the gold and everything is going to be fine'' Rafe scoffed and rolled his eyes before pushing his dads hands off his face.

“None of this is okay dad, you fucking killed her!” slap.

“Watch your tone Rafe. All of this is your fucking fault, you fucked us all! Now either you help me with John B or you go down for it all” he watched Rafe swallow harshly as he touched his face, time was running out and he couldn’t wait for his son to gather his emotions.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry dad”

“There’s my boy, let’s end this. Now” Ward moved over to where John B remained unconscious and signaled Rafe to come over.

Rafe would do anything to make his dad proud and he hated it, especially when your bloody and lifeless corpse laid just inches away from him, serving as a reminder of his choices. All he could do was look at you while his father talked to him, your hands almost as if they were reaching for him even in death, and he fucking hated himself. He wished you would have just stayed away, that you would have told him to go fuck himself months ago and left to save yourself. But you always saw the good in him, and as he always reminded himself, you always were too kind for your own good, and your kindness got you killed along with his selfishness.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #obx imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #outer banks netflix #outer banks #obx angst #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x fem!reader #obx fic #rafe cameron fic

[slicznymartwy]

Hi, can I request pig pet play with Billy? With him being the pig? Gn reader is fine

this is probably my favorite request .. thank u nonnie i love thisso much omg warning: contains submissive billy and mentions of violence

☾⋆⁺₊ billy lenz x gn!reader

“Oink for me.”

Billy coughs instead, ugly and hacking. He coughs until he gags, and he can feel his spit dripping onto the carpet when he pushes his cheek against it. Groaning into the floor, he lets his weight rest on his shoulders and the side of his head. 

His knees hurt, even with your shaggy carpet underneath him. His muscles ache with how long he’s been in this position. Agitated, like Claude when he gets wet, Billy curls his toes in his shoes and digs his fingers into the backs of his thighs. 

He forgets why he’s there. He can’t remember why he can’t touch you. Billy wants to stand up and shove you onto the bed, pull your legs apart and fuck you until you scream, but he can’t. He wants to be good; he can’t remember why, but he feels the need to make you happy so deep in his bones. You’re making it so hard. 

“C’mon, Billy. Can’t you oink? I’ve heard you do it before,” you say from somewhere above him. Billy hates you and Billy wants to make you love him. He can be good for you, even when he thinks about cutting your head off with a big pair tree cutters. 

Billy can hear you sigh, and you’re disappointed in him. He can tell that you don’t love him right now, and Billy sobs into the carpet. He feels your foot nudge up from under his shoulder, and he knows what you want. He wants to give it to you. He wants to fold in on himself until he disappears into your carpet. 

Slowly, he pulls himself up, returning to the position he was in when this all started. His dick feels swollen in his pants, and it would be so easy to take it out and hump your leg like a dog, but he can’t. He’ll be good for tonight. He’ll make you proud, with his hands kept behind his back just like you asked him. 

You put your foot against the bulge in his pants and Billy grunts, thighs burning as he tries to spread his knees apart a little further. 

“That’s close, Billy. Almost an oink. Silly piggy Billy,” you taunt him. Billy wants to pull on his hair, but he clutches his fingers together instead.

“Piggy cunt,” the words slip from his lips without him really meaning them. He licks his lips, his spit threatening to spill over, and tries to press his cock up against your foot. 

You don’t let him get away with it, though. You move your foot lower, pushing it up painfully against his balls. Billy tries to close his legs to hide away from you, but you don’t stop. Moving your foot more quickly now, you shove his cock around in his pants. 

It hurts and it feels so fucking good. Billy’s head hangs down as he tries to get his mind straight. He thinks he’s going insane. He wants to cum and he wants to kill you and he wants to marry you in an old church like he’s seen in movies. He’s sorry, he’s so sorry, he’s so so so sorry. 

You put your hand in Billy’s hair and pull, forcing him to look into your eyes. 

“Oink,” you command. 

“Oink,” Billy parrots, voice shaking. He’s breathing heavily, has been since you put him on his knees. You don’t let go of him. Billy sniffles once, and then snorts. Piggy Billy, you called him. Pig piggy pig. He snorts again, and you smile, and Billy feels a great weight off his shoulders. 

“Good job, piggy. Do it again,” you tell him, so Billy does. He snorts and oinks, and he feels disgusting, but your foot rubs on him gentler and kinder. You love him, he thinks blissfully. He’ll oink for the rest of his life if it means you love him. 

“Who’s my little pig? Are you my little pig?” you coo at him. You hand is gentler now, too, and you stroke his hair instead of pulling on it. He nods against your touch, quick and eager. “Does my piggy want a taste?”

Billy oinks, because he does. That’s all he wants, more than your foot, more than coming in his pants. His head feels swimmy but clear, like he’s underwater on a Hawaiian beach, with blue crystal water. He’s the pig on a spit getting roasted over a fire, and you’re going to eat him and you’re going to love him.

He’s sure he’s drooling, and he tries to swallow some back, but it’s pointless. He doesn’t care, because he’s just a pig. He’s your pig slut, and he feels happier than a pig in mud when you finally press his face against you’re crotch. Billy’s a very good pig. 

a/n: reblogs appreciated hehe .. i loved this prompt so much fr fr fr

#billy lenz #black christmas (1974) #billy lenz x reader #slasher x reader #₊*. ⋆༘ — requests