This Was So Good - Blog Posts

sobbing so hard because I remember following handplates on that one comic dub YouTube channel but I've never actually seen the whole thing and now that I have I'm so happy to see all the things I missed

You know handplates and another comic called endertale and mobtale were the three comics that actually inspired me to start doing comics of my own. Which now that I'm older I hope to be posting my own undertale au, soon hopefully

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This isn’t saying you shouldn’t write bad or sad stories or anything, but from Gaster’s perspective as a character in those stories of course he’d want “happy” endings, haha.

But anyway, I kept telling you guys that when Handplates was over I would tell you. Well… here we are. After seven long years, here we are.

When I started I never thought I’d make it. To be honest, it doesn’t feel real to me at all. My brain still expects to do another page in about two weeks as it always does. I assume it’ll take a while to sink in. There’s a lot to say but this post is already incredibly long (sorry), so it’s probably suited to its own post.

But for all of you out there who read this story, whether you were there from the beginning or just came in now, thank you so much. And for all of you that were inspired by this comic, who created things for it, who blessed me with so many amazing gifts of art and fic and music and dubs and videos and so much more… I don’t know how to thank you enough. I never dreamed that an idle idea could have come this far or had such an impact on my life and so many people, but it did.

I kind of feel at a loss for words… again it’s very surreal. But I will say that Gaster wondering whether the kid is an actual human or not has an unintended level to it since my avatar is a fox but it’s TOO LATE NOW I GUESS lol.

( About how it’s a long, long, long journey that we’ve been on And it’s a long long long story that shall be told And it’s a long long day, and we’ve come a long long way But there’s still a long way to go

It’s a long long long way It’s a long long strong way It’s a long long long way Forward - [x] )

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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 2 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.

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Legs tangled in gray sheets. The lightning-quick flash of a silver dagger, held by a pale hand.

The images in the dream are more like fragments- impossible to discern and decipher. On the bed, asleep and vulnerable. . .

There’s you.

And then Feyd wakes up, heart hammering in his chest so hard he can feel it in his throat. Slowly his fingers crawl up, up, up the expanse of the bed in search of something. In search of warmth, of you. Nothing. He’s just as alone in his room as he was when he drifted off into sleep. He lays awake the rest of the night, tossing and turning with worry.

This dream felt more like a warning than just another disjointed nightmare. It felt real. He was used to having dreams every now and again which clearly depicted a future outcome. He saw you in his dreams quite often, more so once he was no longer a boy-child.

If someone thought to hurt you… he’d just have to hurt them first.

The customs you and your people practiced were completely different to those that were normal on Geidi Prime. You watched one of your ladies-in-waiting as she brought over another small bowl of sweet smelling bath salts, dumping it in and using her hand to properly dissolve them. For a moment you felt self conscious, running your fingers through your hair as you looked at their perfect complexions and shaved heads. What did they see when they looked at you? Someone beautiful and strange. . . or an alien?

Still, you would eventually have to disrobe and bathe. Pressing your luck and refusing their help would only solidify your place as an outsider. You were sure that whispers of your arrival were already spreading like wildfire, and it was almost guaranteed that no one was happy about it. An Atreides amongst Harkonnen’s? You were nothing more than a pariah on their industrial wasteland of a planet.

The air was even more acrid in your lungs than it had been the night before, and while the smell of the rose body oils and salts were thick and hazy in your room, you could still catch the scent of pollution. Already you missed the cool, crisp air of Caladan. You missed your horses, your parents and your brother to the point of pain. This was not where you belonged. Not here in Geidi Prime. Not here with Feyd-Rautha.

The urge to cry yourself hoarse was practically undeniable, and yet you somehow managed to resist. You were late to breakfast already, and surely the Baron was making some unsavory comments about your family and their taught “manners”. So you untied the front of your nightdress and shimmied out of it, letting the soft cotton pool at the ground beneath your feet. The women couldn’t help but gawk at the tiny imperfections they saw there- a beauty mark you’d had since you were a child, a scar you’d received while training with Gurney. You weren’t used to feeling so self conscious, and so you were quick to grab one of the women’s extended hands so that you could sit down in the murky bath water.

They rubbed floral smelling soaps into your hair and on your skin, making sure to handle you as though you were as fragile as porcelain. You wished they would scrub you raw. Even then they wouldn’t be able to cleanse you of your fears. You were in the hands of the Harkonnen’s now.

No one could save you.

“We are not very used to styling hair, my lady. It might not be to your liking.” One of the women said anxiously. The way that her hands shook as she gripped the hairbrush was not lost on you.

How cruelly were they treated here? Or even worse- what did she think of the Atreides family? What lies had they poisoned these people’s impressionable minds with? You didn’t care to dwell too much on such thoughts. Reaching out you gently removed the brush from her hands, flashing her the kindest smile you could muster before shaking your head.

“Leave this to me then. Why don’t you pick something for me to wear from my things?” Your bags were still packed, lying exactly where a few servants had laid them last night. You had denied every offer to have them unpacked for you.

Denial. You refused to believe that you were actually stuck here. This would never be your home. It couldn’t be.

“He’s not here,” Feyd was sitting at a long, slate-gray table by himself. The food on his plate had barely been touched, but he had busied himself with chopping the meat up into miniscule pieces, too small to even fit on the prongs of his fork. “If you were planning on trying to make a good impression, you can forget about it. He always has his food sent to his quarters.”

You thanked the two ladies that had shown you through the colorless halls under your breath, moving to sit on the other side of the table. At least eight chairs separated you from the Na-baron and it still wasn’t enough. You wished you were on an entirely different planet, lightyears away from the Harkonnen scum.

The room was practically empty aside from the large dining room table. No art decorated the walls or rugs to cover the floor. It was all cold, black marble with white accents.

“I don’t care, actually.” And you were being truthful. You didn’t care about getting on the Baron’s good side any more than you cared about getting on Feyd’s.

He smiled then, staring at you long and hard before licking one of his black painted canines. He was amused by the blase way you brushed off his uncle so easily. Indifference wasn’t something he was used to, especially not when everyone in the galaxy had tried so hard to get on their good sides. People tended to tread lightly as far as the Harkonnens were concerned. They were as wealthy as they were cunning.

“Be careful, little Atreides. Saying things like that might get you hurt around here.” His gruff voice was but a whisper now, and suddenly you felt as though there weren’t twelve feet of dead-air separating the two of you.

You had picked up your fork, ready to eat whatever bland food had been prepared for you, but froze at his words. Heat rose to your cheeks and you were quick to lean back in the ornate high-backed chair, the cool iron seeping into your back through your clothes.

“Do you mean to threaten me?” Your words were icy, tongue sharp and ready to give him a proper lashing.

“It’s not a threat, darling.” He was practically purring, reveling in the joy of referring to you whilst using a pet name. It suddenly looked as though a switch had been turned on, his eyes narrowing on you. “I know him far better than you do. He’s killed people for far less. Be careful.” There seemed to be something he wasn’t telling you. There was genuine warning in his tone.

A pause.

“Please.” And then he went back to eating.

So were you supposed to act gutted at his uncle’s absence? You picked up the fork and took a bite of whatever had been put on your plate. It wasn’t at all what you were used to. Even the food tasted. . . fake. The meat tasted like it had been pumped full of chemicals and was mealy in your mouth, like sand. Still, you swallowed despite your distaste and shoved the plate away from you.

“Who have you assigned to be my sparring partner? I’m sure that my father made your uncle aware that I train daily, correct?” If you didn’t physically exert yourself and blow off some steam then you were bound to get no sleep tonight.

Last night you had tossed and turned, unable to stay asleep when your body was constantly alerting you to possible dangers. Even now you were on high alert, eyes locked on the knife that sat on the right side of Feyd’s plate. Your own fingers danced towards yours it you watched. Waited. Worried.

“Training?” He tilted his head again, eyes narrowed in disbelief. You could almost see the cogs turning as he mulled over your words. “What good would training do you now? If there are any threats then I am here to protect you- that’s my duty as your husband.”

Ah, yes. Why would a woman train when she could just sit back and play the part of a perfect little wife instead? You could spit.

“Would you rather I just hunt down one of your servants and kill him for sport?” You hated that he was so good at getting a reaction out of you. Maybe you were acting too much like a brat, but you wanted to see him squirm. Seeing him mad must be better than seeing him. . . like this.

For a second he sat there, arms perched nonchalantly over the armrests of his chair, staring at you with a crooked smile. You jumped in surprise when a chuckle escaped him, the act itself so out of place, so surprising that all you could do was stare in horror. The chuckles soon morphed into frenzied laughter, and he was quick to lean back in his seat so that he could place a hand on his chest.

“Was that funny to you?” You spoke through gritted teeth.

He watched the muscle in your jaw clench and unclench with wild eyes, sucking in a deep breath in the hopes of calming himself. Still, to hear such a beautiful woman speak such hideous words. . . it was wonderful, bordering on perverted.

“If you do kill a servant, please make sure I’m there to watch.”

He was too busy watching your face to notice the knife that you slid into the sleeve of your dress. With a huff you stood up, your skirts dryly brushing along the ground as you started to make your way out of the large room.

“I require a trainer.” You tried to mimic your mother’s tone, straightening your shoulders as you turned to look at him.

Lady Jessica always had a way of commanding a room. She was powerful, your mother. You needed to channel that same power now.

“You’ll train with me then,” He stood up from the table, the height and build of him alone nearly causing you to take a step back. You’d forgotten how large he was. How formidable. “Consider it a wedding gift.”

This had you balking, mouth opening and closing as you tried to think of some way to refuse. He was already stalking past you though, ignoring whatever retorts you were bound to make.

“I recommend getting changed. . . Unless you want me to tear that dress to shreds.”

That awful, ugly, no good- 

“Bastard!” You whispered under your breath, wadding up your dress just to angrily toss it onto your bed. 

You sank to your knees, braiding your fingers into your hair so that you could give it a few good yanks. He was doing this to fuck with your head. All of this was calculated on his part, it had to be. Was it all just to get a rise out of you? Or did he truly want to try and hurt you? You couldn’t figure him out, and that boiled your blood. All Harkonnens were cunning, blood thirsty schemers. You wouldn’t put it past him to be unhappy with the marriage arrangement, choosing to resort to violence in order to end things. 

‘Now. Now is the time to strike.’ 

You’d already hidden the blade under the mattress of the bed. The Baron wouldn’t allow you to live if you killed his precious nephew, but you’d much rather put up some sort of a fight than be put down like a dog. After taking a few steadying breaths you somehow managed to pull on your trousers and shirt, your mind plagued with dangerous, dangerous thoughts. If the moment called for it you were certain that you could not kill Feyd in hand to hand combat. His skills with a blade was well known across the galaxy, and while you were more than able to defend yourself, you weren’t delusional enough to think that you could manage to beat him without using underhanded tactics. 

You’d have to wait until his guard was lowered. 

“Do all women take this long to get ready?” 

You hadn’t heard the door open, nor his footsteps approaching. Who knew how long he had been watching you. The intrusion was an unwelcome one. You looked up to glare at him, trying hard not to balk at his appearance. The clothes he wore were skin tight, a black material that caught the dim lighting- like it was made of pitch black oil. His pants were tucked into big black boots, laced up high on his calf. 

He stretched his arms up, leaning against the doorframe so that he could continue his awkward staring. 

He did a lot of that it would seem. Any time you turned your head to face him you found that he was already looking in your direction. It was odd. . . off putting to say the least. Of course you couldn’t know that he was currently tracing the lines of your face with his eyes, committing every detail to memory. You were so different when he compared you to the females that he was used to seeing. You were all soft lines, long lashes and doe eyes. He found it impossible not to look at you. Gorgeous… you were gorgeous. 

“It took me a while to get out of my dress on my own.”You shoved your way past him in the doorway, his chest warm under your palms. 

You were quick to jerk away, startled by the fact that this was the first time that you’d touched him since the two of you had reunited. 

You didn’t hate the feel of him, but you should have. 

“Then you should have asked for some help.” He said, reaching out to grab you by the back of your shirt when you started to walk off in the wrong direction. 

Feyd pulled you along like he would a pet on a leash through the triangular halls, ignoring your mumbled curses as you tried swatting him away. 

The shield vibrated in your ears as you switched on the button, enveloping you in its warmth. 

You used to find it uncomfortable as a child, the tight, foreign warmth triggering a mild case of claustrophobia. You were used to it now, wearing it like a second skin. You waited for Feyd to turn his on as well, the blade clutched tight in your palm. 

You waited. And waited. And waited. 

“Where’s your shield?” You asked him, motioning towards his hip with your free hand. 

There it was, that crooked smile again. He was laughing at you. Was he trying to infer that you were weak? Was he so confident in his skills that he didn’t even see you as a threat?  

“I don’t see the nee-” He didn’t get very far. 

You kicked your leg out, catching the back of his right knee. His legs buckled, and he was quick to adjust himself, his left arm flying up to catch your wrist before you could sink the blade home. For a split second the two of you just stared at each other. Mild shock in his eyes, your own alight with an anger so consuming that you feared you might be burnt up with it. He gave your arm a sharp tug, hard enough that the joint rolled uncomfortably in its socket. 

You kicked your leg out before he could throw you over his shoulder, landing a sharp blow to his ribs. You heard him let out a pained moan before you hit the ground. Using your weight to your advantage, you tucked your body in, rolling to the side so that you could easily stand up to your knees, blade poised at your side and ready for an attack. 

“You fight well, Atreides.” Feyd purred, spinning his blade between two fingers before letting it fall back into his pale palm. 

“Turn on your shield.” You growled, rising to your full height so that you could begin circling him, a panther ready to pounce. 

“Was it Duke Leto that trained you?” Still, he was ignoring your statement. 

“No.” 

“No, of course it wasn’t him,” He took a step closer to you, eyeing you down. No one had looked at you like that before. . . and it made your skin crawl. You didn’t want to be desired by this man, the thought alone was miserable enough to have bile rising in your throat. “Your father is too weak-spirited to ever train you himself, lest he accidentally harm you.” 

Your heart was beginning to pound in your ears now, vision tunneling. All you could see was Feyd. All you could imagine was the blade that you were currently white-knuckling sunk hilt deep into his chest. 

“How horrible it must be for Caladan to have a Duke so. . .  spineless.” 

You bared your teeth, and for a second you were sure that you would snap the hilt in half with how hard you were gripping your blade. You demanded blood for such an insult. How dare he. How dare he. 

“I should cut out your tongue!” You screamed, pointed the blade at him. 

‘Don’t come any closer’ you urged with your eyes, feeling the angry tears causing your vision to fog. A Harkonnen was insulting your father. He was insulting your family and now he was smiling at you. The bastard had the gall to smile and this time all of his teeth were showing. Wide, unabashed in his joy. He was terrifying. So much so that you felt your legs begin to shake underneath you. 

“But you’ll want to put this tongue to good use eventually.” His gravelly voice purred. 

“Silence!” And before you could even control yourself you were using the Voice. 

You might not be as talented as your brother when it came to hand to hand combat, but your mother had taken the time to teach you well. Feyd’s mouth snapped shut so hard that you heard his teeth clatter together. 

“One more word and I will gut you.” Your voice shook and before you could rethink your actions you were lunging forward, the blade cutting through the air. . . 

Aimed at his throat. 

He was quick to push your arm away with his forearm, and even with the shield up you could feel the bone shattering pressure he put behind the movement. He was stronger than Paul- stronger than even Gurney. He took advantage of the fact that you were put off balance and grabbed a fist full of hair, the shield around you flashing red as he pressed his blade as close as he could to the base of your throat. Your scalp exploded in pain, eyes watering as he gripped harder to yank your head back so that you were staring directly into his eyes. They held no malice towards you, even despite the fact that you were obviously trying to maim him. 

And then he leaned in closer. And closer.

“If I didn’t know any better then I would think that you were actually trying to kill me.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. You could practically feel the warmth of his lips against your skin as he spoke, your heart roaring in your ribcage. With your chests practically touching like this you could smell him.

 You’d only caught the scent of spice once in your life- and it was akin to bitter cinnamon. There was something else though, something more complex to it. Aromatic spices you couldn’t quite put your fingers on and. .  . the natural musk of his skin. 

“So you can speak again?” You managed to tease him through your pain, wincing as he brought you even closer against his chest. The blade that you clutched in your hand was now pressing against his side, the pointed edge digging into his skin. 

He didn’t wince, even when you put more pressure against it. 

“You think it wise to use the Voice on me in my own home, little girl?” He hissed as he pulled away from your ear, and the fire that was in your eyes was now mirrored in his own. 

Slowly you moved the blade away from him, the metallic clanging echoing around the room as you let it fall to the floor. Your palm hurt from the vice-like grip you had been holding it in. 

“Release me now.” You didn’t shy away from staring into his eyes, unwavering even when he pressed the blade even tighter, the shield vibrating louder and louder around you. 

He leaned in, even when your hands moved to press against his chest, willing him to give you space. You could barely breathe with him this close to you. His own knife clattered to the ground, and using his free hand he ripped the shield from off of your hip. The gasp that escaped your lips was uncontrollable. You could feel his breath on your lips as his eyes continued to swallow you up whole. 

They looked even bluer when you were up close like this, framed by long black lashes. For a split second you wondered what had become of that beautiful little boy you had met. Had Baron Vladmir beaten the beauty out of him? Or perhaps it had never truly been there to begin with. 

When Feyd looked at you, up close like this, all he saw was the object of his ever-present affections. Something yawned to life in his chest- the need to protect. All at once he felt wrong, disgusting and horrible for causing you any sort of pain. 

But you looked so lovely with those tears in your eyes. So much so that he gave your hair another small yank, a shuddered breath escaping his lips as you yelped in pain. He saw the hate in your eyes and he detested it. 

‘Fear me’ he silently urged. ‘Love me, do as I say and I will become your slave.’ 

His lips brushed against yours, achingly slow- painfully soft. 

“I yield.” You were quick to say, pulling as far back as you could even with the grip he had on your hair. 

Fire. Your scalp felt like it was on fire. 

And then he released you, taking a step back with a heaving chest. The spell now broken, it felt like the world around you suddenly resumed its orbit. Wordlessly he pressed a hand to his side- the side that you had pressed the knife- and when he pulled it away you could see that it was stained with blood. 

“Didn’t you say that you were going to gut me?” There was no hint of humor in his voice now. 

“I wanted to.” You conceded. 

“Then you should have tried harder.”

Again you lay in bed awake, unable to fall asleep. You told yourself that it was just homesickness that had you clinging to the blankets, but you knew better. What had happened today left you rattled and confused. 

There were a hundred times today that Feyd could have killed you. Everything that Gurney had ever taught you had disappeared like smoke in the wind the second that your father was mentioned. You had acted on instinct alone. 

And if it was an actual fight to the death then you would have lost. Miserably. 

There was something strange about it though. It never once felt like an actual training session. He taught you nothing and gave you no feedback. Not only that but. . . it never felt like he actually wanted to damage your pride. He didn’t turn on his shield before and after taunting you, almost as though he actually wanted one of your attacks to land. 

He had allowed you to get everything out of your system. You hated that it had worked. It wasn’t helping you to sleep tonight though. No, you had other things on your mind now. 

Like the fact that he had almost kissed you. 

Your knowledge was limited where men were concerned, but you were nearly positive that there was something sexual about the way that he had treated you. It was like he didn’t want to actually hurt you, but still went out of his way to touch you. 

You’d be sure to ask for someone that might be willing to train you again tomorrow over breakfast. Someone who wasn’t Feyd, preferably. Lunch and dinner had been spent in silence on your part tonight. He had tried to strike up conversation a few times, even baiting you in ways that might warrant annoyance and anger. You didn’t budge. Why? Because you hated how nervous you felt in his presence now. 

Was it because you were afraid of him? That had to be it. Hearing about his proficiency in fighting and seeing it first hand were two different things. He had practically swung you around like a ragdoll. It was absolutely humiliating. 

Yes, that had to be it. . . well, you hoped. 

“Atreides.” 

The sound of your name had you bolting up into a sitting position, willing your eyes to adjust to the non-existent lighting in the room. The sound of footsteps had your heart jumping up into your throat, adrenaline flooding your system once you realized that it wasn’t a voice that you recognized. 

No one had entered the room since you’d gotten back from dinner, which meant. . . 

Whoever this was had been hiding, waiting until you completely lowered your guard. You were in danger. Horrible, horrible danger. 

‘Be careful. Please.’ You remembered Feyd’s words from earlier. 

He had been trying to warn you.

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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part I 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. (needs to be edited, so please excuse any temporary errors!)

word count: 5.3k

The ancient walls of Castle Caladan were a fortress, the long winding halls a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with its layout. You had tried feigning sleep when you had been made aware of the surprise guest’s arrival, a one “reverend mother”- as your mother referred to her. The cool air from the hallway nipped at your exposed arm, which currently hung limply over the side of the bed. 

“She’s even smaller than your son, Jessica.” The voice sounded more like a wheeze- and it certainly didn’t belong to anyone you had ever met before. 

“As I’ve already said, the Atreides are slow to grow.” Your mother’s tone didn’t hold even a semblance of a bite to it, not like you expected. She was usually fiercely protective of you and your brother. 

Your finger twitched, causing the woman to stifle whatever disapproving comment she was about to make. Being caught eavesdropping like this certainly wasn’t ideal, but you found it impossible not to be curious. 

“She really is just like her brother,” More like he was more like you. You’d always been the rowdy one of the two. Paul must have been listening in as well, and you imagined that he was more insulted at the comments of his lack of height and muscle than you were. “The little rascals.” 

There was a beat of silence before the woman began to crone again. This time you opened your eyes just a sliver, staring into the dark abyss of your room so that you could make out the shapes of your mother and the stranger. 

“Rest now. Both you and your brother need to be prepared to meet my Gom Jabbar.” The reason couldn’t be pinpointed, but there was something about her tone that filled you with dread.

Your mother woke you up the next morning, bright and early. 

Not even the breathing exercises that your mother had taught you had been able to calm you down last night. The darkness had swallowed you whole, which resulted in a dreamless sleep that left you feeling just as unrested as you had felt the night before. Your mother noticed your hesitations, the skirts of her dress dragging against the stone floor as she moved in the direction of your closet. The dress that she picked out for you was one of your more official garments, the red hawk of the Atreides crest proudly sewn onto the right breast. 

“Did you sleep well?” She questioned as she laid the dress neatly onto the edge of the bed, urging you to stand once her hands were free. 

You blinked at her, nervously brushing your hands along the soft cotton of your nightdress. Your voice felt stuck in your throat, but you still managed to lie. 

“Yes, of course.” Your tone was flat, and for once she didn’t question you on the reasoning. She knew exactly what had you feeling so uncomfortable in your own home. 

Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. 

What exactly did the old woman want from your family? Lady Jessica was a Bene Gesserit, which could only mean that this woman was a higher up, sent to pay you and your brother a visit. You knew nothing about any “coming of age” rituals. 

Paul barged into the room, dressed in his finer clothes as well. He leaned against the wall of your room, lips pursed as if he was deep in thought. You tilted your head to the side, leveling him a worried glance. He simply shook his head, and you knew at once that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your worries. 

‘Not here. Later.’ His expression told you, and for once you obeyed. 

“The reverend mother is waiting on the both of you. Paul, get out of your sister’s room so she can get ready.” She commanded, her tone leaving no room for whining or disobedience. 

He groaned, pushing himself off of the wall so that he could head back out and into the hall. You shrugged out of your dress quickly at the hurried insistence of your mother, allowing her to do up the clasps of the dress for you. 

“Who is she?” You asked simply, brushing your hair to the side so that she could get a better grasp of the dress. 

“She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school and now she is the Emperor’s Truthsayer.” Your mother sighed out your name, turning you quickly so that you were facing her. “You need to do exactly as she says. There is no room to be prideful today, do you understand?” Her eyes were pleading, and you knew that she had your best interests in mind. 

You and your mother walked wordlessly out into the hall, catching up with your brother who was busy running his fingers along the uneven stone walls. You flashed a quick look at your mother before jogging to catch up with Paul, taking the hem of his sleeve into your hand. 

“What do you know?” You whispered, turning your head so that you could look at your mother. Much to your surprise she seemed to be in no hurry to separate the two of you. 

“I’ve had dreams about her before,” He whispered, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with his strides. “And mother told me this morning that I have to tell her about my visions.” 

Your mouth went a bit dry at the realization that this woman truly was here just for you and your brother. What is the Gom Jabbar and what did it entail? There was no telling. 

“She’s in my morning room, you two.” She called out after you. 

Jessica caught up, leveling the both of you a disapproving motherly look that had the two of you slowing your strides to match hers. She seemed a bit hesitant, eyes flickering between you and your brother and the closed door. 

The “reverend mother” sat in one of the tapestried chairs, her arms perched on either side of the armrests as she watched the three of you come in. The view behind her was beautiful, the sprawling, green farmlands of the Atreides family holding on full display through the large windows behind her. You glanced at your brother, eyes widening when you realized that he was already looking at you. He bowed in her direction and you followed his lead. 

“They are a cautious bundle, aren’t they?” The witch-like woman croaked, looking between the two of you. 

“As they have been taught, your reverence.” 

In this room, here in front of this woman, Jessica was no longer the Duke’s concubine nor your mother. She was reduced to that of a pupil in the face of her teacher. You kept yourself from fidgeting, clasping your hands in front of you. You fought the urge to reach out and grab your brother’s hand, as the two of you so often did when faced with anxiety as children. Fear hadn’t regressed you to that of a blubbering child in years. 

Your mother also seemed to fear the woman before her. There was something in her tone that led you to believe that whatever she was here for, it surely wasn’t a pleasantry. Your brother was tense at your mother’s other side, jaw tense as he stared the reverend mother down. 

“Teaching is one thing, but there are some things that cannot simply be taught,” Paul’s eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, and as if she was dismissing a servant of the castle, she waved your mother off with a flick of her wrist. “You and your daughter leave us. It will be her turn soon.” 

For the first time that morning your mother hesitated, eyes softened as she looked upon her son.

“Your reverence, I-” She began, but was cut off before she could finish whatever it is she was going to say. Surely it was meant to be an objection. 

“Jessica, you know that this must be done.” Her voice held a tone of finality. There was no room for your mother to try and wiggle the both of you two out of this trap.

“Yes. . . of course.” Your mother straightened, turning towards both of you. 

“This test. . . It’s very important to me, you two.” She spoke in a hushed voice, eyes still fearful. 

“Test?” The two of you questioned at the same time, looking at one another in concern. You were confused, even more so than you were before. 

“Remember that you’re the duke’s son.” And with that your mother was grabbing your arm, pulling you in the direction of the door. 

“I suppose that it is my turn?” Your voice shook with anger as you practically tore the door off of its hinges, anxious to take your brother’s place. His cries and whimpers did not go unheard, even with the thick wood separating the two of you. 

Looking at him now, his right arm still shaking from the pain, was like being slapped across the face. 

“Right you are, girl. Jessica, please escort your son out of the room.” There was a silvery glint in her bright eyes- a challenge. She could sense it in you. 

Your mother didn’t interrupt this time, and without any words exchanged the door closed. Your brother was too shaken up by whatever had taken place in that room to fully comprehend that the same thing was going to happen to you. He tossed a terrified glance over his shoulder at you just before the heavy doors closed. The sound of it echoed around the room, pulsing in your chest as you tried to steady the adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

“Your future. . . do you know what is expected of you?” 

You eyed the black box that sat next to her as you began closing the distance between the two of you. The question she had asked. . . it was a touchy subject with you. Of course you knew. A day didn’t go by that you weren’t mortified by the prospect of your future. You only had three short years to live and enjoy before you would be forced to abandon your family to join hands with another one. 

“Of course I do. It is my duty to marry.” Your voice had a bite to it, your eyes unwavering as you stared her veiled face down. 

“It is your duty to marry a Harkonnen. It is an honor to be the only reason that these two great Houses are allies. Your heirs will be powerful beyond comprehension.” The way she spoke. . . she truly believed the shit she was spouting. 

It was impossible to consider marrying Feyd an honor. It was an ever-present looming threat. 

“Put your right hand in the box.” She commanded, nodding her head in it’s direction. 

It seemed harmless enough, nothing more than a metal box. You bent your head ever-so-slightly, trying to have a look inside. It appeared to be a pitch black, endless void. No beginning or end in sight. 

You did as you were told, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from muttering anything too disrespectful under your breath. If Paul’s screams were anything to go off of then this was going to be painful. Still, you were shocked by how cold the box was. You wiggled your fingers a few times, feeling the metal encasing them. Slowly a tingling sensation began, almost as if they were falling asleep. 

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 

The tingling sensation somehow melded into. . . heat. No, not heat. Burning. It felt as though you had your hand held up to a bright flame. You flinched, but froze when you finally noticed that the reverend mother was holding something against your neck. Your eyes flickered the best that they could to her hand, not wanting to turn your head. 

“What I hold at your neck is the Gom Jabbar. The tip of the needle is dipped in poison. Remove your hand from the box and I will plunge it into your neck.” 

The palm of your free hand began to sweat, the gravity of the situation finally landing on your shoulders. You would be forced to endure the pain and there was nothing that anyone outside of the doors could do. No guards had come to protect your brother when it was his turn, and no matter how emotional your mother had gotten whilst hearing his screams she still hadn’t rushed in after him. You could truly die here in this room. 

“Why are you doing this?” You urged, wincing again as the burning continued to worsen. 

Now it felt as though you were almost touching a flame, fingers dancing dangerously close. It wasn’t just uncomfortable now but painful.  “To determine if you’re human. Now be silent.”

Meant for greatness, yet stifled before her prime. 

It was impossible for your clipped wings to take flight. The Bene Gesserit had instilled in you your purpose from a very young age, letting it be known that you were little more than cattle to be sold off to breed. The whole arrangement was dehumanizing, but this was the way of galactic high society. Every House had been developed by the close, watchful eye of the Bene Gesserit. Your mere existence was a result of a centuries long breeding program, so how could you ever expect for your own life to be any different? 

Every child, especially in their naive youth, dreams of greatness. There was a point in time where you had hoped to mean something. There were differences to be made, rules to be broken, wars to be raged- but you would never be at the helm of any of it. But Paul. . . Paul was different. 

“You know something that I don’t.” You weren’t asking Paul, rather telling him what you already knew. 

Where you were used to your brother pulling no punches, he had been overly cautious with his treatment of you during training today. For a second he just stared ahead blankly at the wall, and you wondered whether he would try to lie. The older you’ve gotten, the stranger other people’s treatment of you has become. Women were little more than something to be owned. It was a hard lesson to learn and was one you were still grappling with. 

Your femininity were the chains that bound you. And what of your ambition? It was currently acting as the flames licking at your boot heels. Soon you feared that it would fully engulf you; become your undoing. 

“Tell me.” Your lovely features crumpled, and as childish as it was you found yourself giving his arm a slap. 

He jumped at the sudden contact, eyes widening as he turned to face you after what felt like an eternity of prolonged silence between the two of you. The hard flooring felt cool beneath your legs as you stretched them out beneath you, and for a second you found it hard to keep yourself up in a sitting position. The world felt unsteady beneath you, both literally and figuratively. 

Paul didn’t have to say anything at all. You looked, you saw, you felt, you understood. Your shared connection had nothing to do with your genes, rather it had to do with your likeness. Two bodies, two minds, but one soul. Your twin’s features crumpled, mirroring that of your own as he pushed a few strands of dark hair away from his face. 

“So there is nothing I can do? My fate is sealed.” Your lips felt numb as you spoke. 

Your brother’s visions were more frequent than they had ever been before. “Horrors”, he’d described them.

“If there was something I could do. . .” He started, turning quickly to face you, tucking one leg beneath himself. “My hands are tied. Mother and father’s hands are as well.” 

Hiding you away or knowingly allowing you to escape your duties would be seen as an act of treason. You’d be putting your parents and their status in danger, and no matter how desperate you were to get out of any sort of marriage pact, it was far too late. Since the very moment you were conceived, this was what you were meant for. 

“When will the orders come down, you think?” You pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them tightly. 

You wished that you could stay like this forever, protected from the rest of the world. If only you hadn’t been born as twins at all. You wanted so badly to be like Paul. 

But the galaxy didn’t work like that. You were not fortunate enough to get what you wanted. 

“Soon.” 

You felt comforted by the hand that he placed on your shoulder, and even more so when he kept it there until you felt as though you were able to stand up. 

You were to marry into House Harkonnen. That was your purpose; to unite the feuding houses and birth powerful offspring. You had met Feyd once before, but only for a fleeting moment. It hadn’t been awkward- no, back then the two of you hadn’t cared enough to pay any mind to the looming threat that was your betrothal. You’d been too young back then to fully grasp the severity of the situation. 

You remembered being shocked by his size. He towered over Paul, appearing to be years older than he really was. His hair had been dark back then, thick and slightly curly. 

He had only just been taken under his uncle’s wing at the time. The environment of Giedi Prime had yet to fully sink into the young boy. The Harkonnen’s looks had always been startling to you, no matter how many times you’d been exposed to it. They were dark creatures, brooding, hairless with skin as pale as milk- not to mention violent. 

The desperate way that Paul had clung to you was not lost on you. You let him squeeze you as tightly as he needed, your arms locking around his back. This meeting would change everything. In a matter of moments your life as you knew it would be taking a drastic turn, and not for the better. 

You’d made that very same trek to the parlor room a million times. This was your ancestral home- had been in your family longer than you thought was conceivable, and yet this felt new to you. Wrong. The shadows from the windows were casting strange lights on the wall beside you, and your footsteps sounded muffled in your ears as your pounding heart nearly deafened you. Your father’s hand brushed against your palm a few times, his attempt at showing you physical comfort without causing any sort of scene. You knew that this was Feyd-Rautha’s right. 

You were Feyd-Rautha’s right. That simple fact alone was enough to send you reeling, that morning's breakfast churning in your stomach. 

“It will be fine.” Your mother’s fingers shaped the words at her side, a comforting and silent presence. 

Your parents had always protected you. They had taught you well in all aspects of life. She was right. You had to trust yourself just as much as you trusted them. This will be fine. You will survive. 

But god, you wanted to live. 

Your worst fear was being locked up like a caged animal, only taken out to be played with or paraded around. You didn’t want to be somebody's little wife; you were no homemaker or bed warmer. 

‘I am better than this.’ You thought to yourself, your hands balling into fists at your sides. 

As the double doors began creeping open, you felt the sudden urge to run the opposite direction, your parents be damned. The feud between House Atreides and House Harkonnen would surely become deadly if you were to turn your back on the promise now, and that was the only thing that steeled your feet. You stood, back straight and hands clasped tightly at your front. 

You looked to be a pillar of strength, but oh- you were so close to crumbling. Your father took a step past the threshold, eyes hard as he bowed his head respectfully in the Baron’s direction. There was still time to turn around. The door was right there, and you were sure that you could commandeer a ship. You’d piloted a few times before in your life, and while you weren’t the best, you were certain you could get yourself the hell off of Caladan. You shuffled your feet, eyes wide as you looked up and caught your mother’s gaze. Her lips were parted, and you could tell that she was trying to decipher your expression. 

“What are you doing?” Her hand moved quickly at her side, the flowy gauze-like material of her skirts hiding her frantic movements from the visitor’s view. 

Nothing. You were doing nothing. There were no options yet. If you fled then the insubordination would fall back on your parents. If you downright refused then the outcome would be the same. There was nothing you could do but keep your mouth shut and try not to show the Harkonnen even a semblance of vulnerability. 

Disdain rolled off of you in waves as you breezed into the parlor, eyes locked on the side of your father’s face as he conversed with the baron. Tensions were high, even now. No pleasantries were being exchanged, that you were sure of. The Harkonnen’s stark black attire was a startling contrast to their pale skin. There, in the middle of two other men, whom you were sure were present for reasons of protection, was Feyd. 

He looked the same as the rest of them. Hairless, blue eyes dripping with something that could only be described as malice. Gone was the curly haired child that you remembered. In his place stood someone unrecognizable to you. You wanted to question what the Baron had done to Feyd, but you already knew. Perfection was expected on Geidi Prime. 

He had shaped Feyd into the very likeness of perfection. The once dark haired boy was now a walking, talking machine; not even a dead leaf echo of the boy you met all those years ago. 

You tried to map out every single one of his microexpressions, searching desperately for any sign that he might disapprove of the predicament the both of you had found yourselves in. He tilted his head to the side, observing you with a horrifying level of concentration. The Baron began to speak, saying something that you didn’t care enough to listen to. You were too distracted by the terrifying man before you. 

“She will come back home to Geidi Prime with us. No objections, correct?” 

You were marrying him out of an obligation, this he was already privy to. He had seen the reluctance written plain across your face as you’d entered the room. You’d wanted to run. Away from him, away from your responsibilities- and he could not blame you for it. His understanding stopped there though, simply because this proposal wasn’t going against his own wishes. 

“The wedding isn’t taking place for another week.” The Duke didn’t seem to like the idea of his unwed daughter leaving his side. 

Feyd fought back a smile, having known that the Baron’s sudden request would have this effect on the Atreides family. He watched you squirm like a bug under a magnifying glass, your hand moving at your hip. For a second he thought that you might be tugging at the seam of your dress, writing it off as nothing but a nervous tick- but then he saw the way your mother’s eyes followed those movements. 

The two of you were communicating. 

“That may be so, however I think that it is only right that your daughter,” Baron Vladimir motioned in your direction. “Becomes better acquainted with Feyd. You don’t agree?” 

His uncle decided that it was best to test the boundaries of this alliance. He was pushing the Duke, seeing how far he could get. Leto’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering thoughtfully towards you. Feyd was finding it hard to pay attention to anyone else other than you in the room. He’d spent years imagining what you would look like as an adult- dreamt about it. He’d eagerly been awaiting this moment, counting the days that he could finally be reunited with you. 

It wasn’t just because he had been promised powerful heirs. It was the thought that someone was fated to marry him. Since before he was even conceived, you had always been promised to him. That idea had been put into his head since childhood. You were the constant topic in his mind, a person that was unavoidably meant to be in his life for the rest of his days. 

In a strange way he had loved you since he was but a child. 

Seeing you for that first time had been better than he had anticipated. You were a beautiful little girl, but now? The child that he had met all those years ago did not hold a candle to the grace and brilliance of the woman that stood before him now. Nobody else could ever compare. You didn’t have to fall for him right now, he was content with that. Hell, you didn’t even have to tolerate him.  He would find pleasure in wearing you down. He was going to make you love him.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. 

The adrenaline had run its way out of your system, leaving you cold and alone on a planet that was so incredibly alien to you, you weren’t sure how you’d ever be expected to adjust. Even the oxygen felt different in your lungs- the sweet, acrid smell of chemicals tinging the air around you. It was nothing like your home on Caladan. Your home was a stone castle, but this? This was a cold, black fortress. 

You weren’t sure if it was meant to keep people out. . . or in. 

You thought back to that fateful day with the reverend mother. 

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 

You couldn’t chew your leg off to be free of this. No, you had to lay in wait. Only then could you strike if the situation called for it. 

“Striking” could wait until tomorrow though. For now you wanted to rid yourself of the anxiety. Sleep was the only cure you could think of. 

“Is the room to your liking?” That husky voice of his was already grating on your nerves. 

Feyd had only attempted to speak to you a few times and already you were sick and tired of his presence. He was a constant reminder that you would never know what it was like to be free. Then again, was anybody in the galaxy truly free? Feyd sure seemed to be carefree in his current position. 

His tone felt off, like he was toying with you. 

“I would be far more pleased about my new living quarters if you were to leave.” You said simply, pulling the slate gray blanket up and over your chin. 

You weren’t sure if it was due to his ill-breeding, but he didn’t seem to care that you were in nothing but your night dress. He walked into the room in long-legged strikes, letting the door shut behind him. Never before had the two of you been alone together, not since you were children at least. If you were back in your family home you would feel safer during a moment like this. 

You were in his territory now, meaning he had full reign over everything. Your father and family name couldn’t protect you on Geidi Prime. 

“You’re in quite the rush to be rid of me,” He didn’t falter for even a second as he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the plush mattress with a small sigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you didn’t like me.” He didn’t seem upset at the notion of you disliking him. In fact, there was a glint in his eyes. That same sort of silvery glint you’d seen in the reverend mother’s eyes all those years ago: a challenge. 

This was nothing but a challenge to him. You were a conquest, and you detested that. Your stomach soured, your face becoming pinched as you glared at him. This was all too much too fast. You were in the comfort of your own home not even four hours ago, and now you were expected to make small talk with the source of your life-long discontent.  

“And what of your concubines? Could you not pester them tonight and give me a moment's peace?” 

“I dismissed them from their duties, permanently, weeks ago.” He said simply, his fingers running along the cotton of the comforter. 

“What?” You’d never heard of such a thing. 

“Spending time with them would be a waste.” His blue eyes flickered up to meet your eyes. “Acquiring concubines had just been a show of status.” 

It took you a few moments to process what he was saying, the burning hatred you had felt just moments ago flickering out into a dull flame. 

“Why would spending time with them be a waste? Am I expected to spend that much time with you?” A horror, truly. You had hoped that you’d be able to get away with spending a night or two a week with him, if only to achieve the Bene Gesserit’s goal of siring an heir. 

“A waste of time. A waste of seed,” He looked at you pointedly, his lip pulling up into a smile that revealed more of his black teeth. “And both of those things are important to me.” 

Your stomach hollowed out as you were once again reminded of what was expected of you. You had a week to prepare mentally for your wedding night, which you weren’t sure was enough. 

“And what happened to the concubines? Are they still being housed here?” 

“Why? Are you jealous?” He was smiling even wider than he was before. 

A shiver ran through you as you noticed how predatory his body language was- you felt like prey under his haughty gaze. It was hard to believe that Feyd had been administered the Gom Jabbar test and passed. 

This man was no human. He was an animal, that you were certain. 

“Wickedly.” Your tone was flat and noncommittal. Even now, you never saw Feyd as a potential lover. 

The man that was your so-called “destiny” was also your jailer. 

“Well then you’ll be happy to know that they no longer live here. . . or anywhere, for that matter.” He sat up, rolling his shoulders back to stretch his broad muscles.

The blood drained from your face as you stared up at him from your spot on the bed. He must have felt the weight of your gaze and turned his head, his eyes alight with. . . pleasure. Violence was as ingrained in him as breathing was. It was his life. Standing before you was the prince of death- pale, striking and terrifying. 

Animal, indeed. 

I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. 

please message me if you'd like to be added to my taglist!

A/N: this chapter was plot heavy, I know, however it was crucial to give you guys some background information so that I can better build tension. the beautiful dividers were created by @ kitsunecafe!

BRI & JO’S TRYIN’ SHOW! Ep.10: The End

Nobody Pinch Me

A mysteriously locked door keeps Harry and Draco trapped in the room where they’re serving detention.

Words: 18k

Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Mystery, Angst, Bickering, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Blowjobs, Anal Sex, Top Harry, Bottom Draco, D/s Elements

“You’re twisted,” says Harry. “I’ve chained you to the wall not because you’re a twat who tried to take my head off just now, but because I want to shag you, or something, is that right?”

Draco laughs in delighted shock. His stomach twists, and not with fear or hatred this time.

“You tell me,” he says goadingly. “I didn’t say anything about shagging.”

@dracoladon

miguel o’hara x assistant!fem! reader

SPOILERS ??!!

now we all know this man has some serious anger issues lmao but who wouldn’t love a grumpy man having this deep unspoken sexual tension between the two of you, right!? right. and along with that, SMUT! such a beautiful combo. but mild smut for now.

but here is some mild miguel smut for y’alls horny ass (and mine) <3

mild smut under the cut

｡･:*˚:✧｡

spiderman 2099. miguel. miguel motherfucking o’hara.

leader of the spider-society, an elite crew of various spider people from all across the multiverse, their mission to protect the multiverse from any threat that may come. sure, knowing how crazy it sounds that the multiverse is real and that— there are more variations of the spiderman you knew since all before this shitshow happened.

and to say, your relationship with the leader wasn’t all that bright in fact.

you’re not a spider person yourself but sometimes you wish you are seeing how fucking cool spider-woman, jessica drew, a fellow member, along with other members coming in are (hobie, gwen, pavitr and so on.) but no radioactive spider ever bit you sadly. you are human, human as ever working under miguel o’hara as his assistant (more of a manager really) even though he has lyla, the virtual sweetheart, you still had some things you can do which are a big help in all the management for the spider-society.

miguel, as a boss, well— he’s a fucking menace sometimes as you grit your teeth to yourself, walking swiftly into the familiar hallways you always passed through, captured anomalies around your vision until you arrive at the fairly narrow one, meaning you were almost close. all the people knew how fucking grumpy he was, always snapping out of nowhere, sharp comments and unnecessary hurtful ones too when he’s super mad. you’ve dealt with all of that since the foundation was found— and he’s kinda a loner. you sigh, knowing from the looks of what has happened today regarding miles morales, things weren’t looking so great. and you had to ask him somehow about the situation and see how it goes, well not or not.

your feet echoed through the vast space of his lab, his platform was up high as always and you can hear him grumbling a top, watching every scenario of what happened. your heels clicked as you stopped, looking up, blue light restricting your vision as you coughed for his attention. cringing already inside as you heard the audios pause.

then silence.

silence….

more silence….

silenceeeeeeeeeeeeeee-

“what?” he asks from above in a clip manner.

“heard from lyla.” you merely quip back, shrugging your shoulders.

“and?” he grunts, resuming his work as the platform above descends down. ah, sassy. you think, usual miguel— not the mad one, real lifesaver for whatever you’re gonna say right now.

“nothing.” you say, waiting for the damn platform to come down faster. “i may have a few questions where this leads-“

“what questions?” he asks, the platform finally stops at the usual height, making miguel who’s back is turned from you visible.

“about the situation. miles morales.”

“ask lyla about that.” he dismisses you again, tone a little sharper. the back of his muscles flex, super suit clinging tight, his mask the only one that was removed. tousled dark hair seen as he clicks away on his screen, the voices of miles and gwen emitting. you gulp, sighing as you tried for one more.

“it’s more of a personal question for you-“

“has it ever occurred that i don’t answer those kind of questions?” he cuts you off, the footage he was watching paused as he slowly turned around to finally face you. your eyes meet his, familiar red ones looking down at you, face scrunched a bit as if he was annoyed already,

“i know.” you slowly say as he crosses his arms. muscle bulging, making you avert from his gaze for a moment, which embarrassed you. “but all i’m saying or asking is that are you going to make it easy for the kid?”

something in his eyes snap at your question. he jumps down, landing swiftly in front of you as he stands up, towering your frame. you roll your eyes, his shadow blocking the light from you as his hands were situated on his waist, meaning he was ready to argue. but you can’t argue how eager you feel seeing how close he is. heat radiating from him, the way he never leaves his eyes off you and his overall presence.

“what is easy in all this, really, huh?” he harshly spits out. “the faith of the multiverse is in danger. and who’s responsible to fix that? me! so no, i’m gonna make it easy for the kid. he was the one who started all of this if you can remember.”

“oh, i remember and i remember clearly telling you how all of this— this is happening is very much-“

“no, no, no. that is completely out of the logical reason for why this happening. not the reason at all.” he says, his brow scrunching together as you too became fairly annoyed that he was cutting you off. an ass really.

“out of the reason? maybe it is the reason if you think about it!” you retort back, huffing out a sigh as he shakes his head turning away from you.

“miguel.” you call out to him. “miguel, for once, try and see through this. through miles.”

“i have a lot of things to do, y/n. arguing with you is not one.” he commands, as your shoulders sink, the familiar feeling of disappointment washing over you from his words.

“maybe if you could listen to me, we wouldn’t be arguing.” you stared at him with hard eyes, he tensed, looking to the side before he swiftly walks towards you again.

“why would i, huh?” he glares at you. “do you know everything i know enough to make everything right in the multiverse?” he stalks over to you, intent to make you listen clearly as you back away a bit from him but he doesn’t stop. “no. so no, there is no point in listening to you.” he growls the last sentence, the lump in your throat bitter as you two stared down at each other before he utters his last insults. the buzz of something blooms between you both. you could feel it, he could feel it. the two of you were just contemplating in the inside as miguel steps a bit closer to whisper it.

“you’re my assistant, know your place.”

your eyes widened at his words. but you could not shake the fact how deep he said it, the rumble in his voice making your brain go haywire at all the emotions you are feeling right now for him. the breaking point of your patience at its peak as you glared at him harshly, his face close to yours as you cursed at him.

“fuck you, miguel.” you spit out. his face suddenly changed as he fucking smirked. smirked! you stare at him as he opens his mouth to spit something out as well in retaliation for your insult.

“really? that’s all you got? i thought you were better at this, churri.” his smirk widens as you shy away, suddenly flustered at how fast he can make you embarrassed. you could feel his chest close to yours as you avert his hard gaze, making the said man snap something inside of him seeing you all crumpled beneath him.

“you’re all bark but no bite, sweetheart.” he whispers as you didn’t look at him. “look at me.”

the subtle growl in his voice caused you to obey him. you look up to meet his eyes again, seeing them red as ever, red with that low gaze that makes your thighs clench hard. the slow breaths between the two of you are only heard as miguel leans down, face closer to yours now.

“what’s making you shy, huh?” he asks, the argument from earlier clearly out of his head as he focuses on you. his one hand creeping up to gently caress yours, urging you to say it.

“miguel, please, stop playing with me.” you grumbled, ashamed how you liked how he was acting now. “it’s not funny.”

“i’m not joking around, am i?” he sasses but you held your hard gaze on him which he surrenders. “alright, i’m sorry.”

“no you’re not.” you sighed, knowing there will never be a genuine sorry from him which leaves you utterly defeated, more upset how you know he’s toying with your emotions right now. “i’ll take my leave.”

“y/n, don’t…”

“please stop.” you raise your hand for him to stop.

“i’m sorry.” he genuinely says, gripping your hand gently back down, squeezing it softly. his big gloved hand envelops yours as you studied his face to make sure he wasn’t fucking around. miguel practically knew what’s going on between the two of you, which of course why he liked arguing with you. the way your eyes would dilate all the time and beat of your heart racing whenever he gets super close to your personal space. addicting yet a dick move he was doing because in all, he very much likes you. and this time, this time it all snaps at the pinnacle seeing you shamelessly stare at his lips.

“thank you.” you softly say, glancing at his lips, the fangs subtly showing behind them as miguel swiftly dips forward to finally kiss you with such fervor.

your eyes widened as you gripped his broad shoulders, toes tip toeing, heart pounding as his arms wrapped around your waist. you moan out on his lips as you kissed him back the same passion. months of ignoring the unspoken tension between the two of you and at this moment it happened! you think that this all sinks in because of the situation, and you are right in your head. all of this should happen.

“miguel.” you pant breathily between his lips as he shushed you with another one, too lost in the moment.

“miguel please.” you begged for more as his hands dip down to squeeze your ass, lifting you up effortlessly with his spidey strength as your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips.

“i know.” he kisses your chin down to your neck, slowly walking to the desk nearby. your breasts squished together with his hard chest as you grind down, feeling the evident bulge underneath you.

“you’re an ass, ya know?” you mumbled in his ear as he sits you down on the desk, objects scattering at the impact. he continues his ministrations, the things he was supposed to do are far long gone in his head as his hand dip down to where your legs were open for him.

“that i certainly know.” he admits, you giggle suddenly knowing how defensive he is when people point that out.

“but right now, i’m being very nice, amor. very nice.” he whispers, nipping your ear as his gloved hand touches you there, the pencil skirt you were wearing scrunched up above your knees. you gasp, clutching his shoulders again as he chuckles lowly, feeling the wetness as his eyes stared at you with this animosity as he kneels down, kissing your thighs before he sharply opens your thighs wide. your covered cunt staring right before him, begging to be eaten and he sure will be. he looks up to see you, this wild look in your eyes as you nodded for approval which makes him genuinely smile.

“i’m feeling generous today. it’s a once in a lifetime scenario, huh? so you better feel lucky today.”

｡･:*˚:✧｡

I HOPE I DIDN’T MAKE MIGUEL OOC CUZ I ONLY WATCHED THE MOVIE ONCE. ANYWAYS PART 2? <3

⁀➷ ∵ the soft blue guy

⟶ oc!na'vi x reader

⟶ cw. pure fluffy thirst, short smut, unprotected sex, size kink, SIZE : P na'vis are huge after all, established relationship, interspecies, alien!sex, lots of kissing, lovey dovey + more

⟶ note. hi! this is really short : ) just testing the waters

you never realized how pretty they were. well, from the photographs they just seemed like overly large blue cat people. up close, it's different–like any other species their skin had multiple hues.

soft fingers skim his sharp cheekbones, hues of turquoise and sky blue–darker, richer hued stripes peppered his warm skin. his eyes shut feeling the heat of your touch, and softness continues to linger across his lids–long dark lashes against your fingers. just like his hair.

his noise twitches when you touch it. your lips spread into a cheeky grin and a chuckle leaves your lips. he scrunchies his wide nose bridge shaking his head playfully as if trying to get you off him. "play nice."

"nice? you're making my eyes water with your tiny fingers poking around at it." little strands of hair loosen from his braids from his day out. you scoff, reaching quickly to nip his ears between your fingers.

"ouch." his eyebrows stitched holding onto his pierced ears, littered with hoops all over the cartilage.

you lean towards his face and press your lips against his nose, a gentle kiss that makes his skin brighten and face flush. "hush, you crybaby."

"i am an adult, not a baby."

you lean back onto your palms, "it's just a term, to tease you."

"i do not enjoy your teasing." he nudges into the crook of your shoulder, taking a chomp of your skin, "mate."

"i'm not your mate. you forget."

he breathes, groaning against your skin. "i recall, my love. you refuse to mate with me."

you roll your eyes, drawing his face into your palms, "do you recall what we're doing?" you breath out a moan, feeling him thrust upwards into you.

his lips stretch into a grin, "of course, i enjoy how warm you are." his lips blue, dusted with some purple press a wet kiss on your throat as he sucks on it. you throw your head back, releasing more music to his ears. you're sure this is his favourite position, after all it's uncommon for you to be his height in most situations.

riding him allowed that, and he loved feeling all of you. kissing all of you whilst you did so, he almost rarely allowed you to control the pace of it all–constantly interrupting your rhythm with his hungry ruts. you took too long, as he says.

you roll your hips into him, holding onto his large thighs on your sides as you did. your legs rested on his hips, whilst his entirety punishes your insides. "i still want you to be mine."

"i am yours."

he growls, "i want you to be mine, i want to devote my love to you under eywa."

you know what he means. yet you don't even know if it's possible, it's barely possible to think right now. your mind drunk on his touch and body burning with heated arousal. the angle was almost painful, his cock larger than anything you knew, you recall the first time you took him–he was so proud, pleased you were capable of taking him.

seemed like fucking him inside your makeshift treehouse and home for this mission wasn't enough for him. "my love, eywa is everywhere, is she not?"

his eyes glimmer, you were right. after all, all the sacred lands were destroyed, where would you perform such mating ritual and well, you weren't exactly capable to joining yourself to him in ways the na'vi would.

he loved the way you spoke, so intelligent, so wise. you always knew what to say. his large hand holds your cheek with love, he smiles, "will you be mine?"

he captures your lips. warm and tender it was. he picks up his pace slightly, causing your body to burn. it becomes sloppy, hungry–lips attempting to devour one another. between his heavy strokes and everlasting kiss you manage to catch your breath.

"i've always been yours," you say, breathless–dazed, "now stop asking, and fuck me properly."

he lets out a snort, shaking his head. "my love, your tongue is primitive." he pushes off his butt, pushing you into the soft blankets and cushions splayed across the floor, the bed wasn't big enough to fit him. he angles you, ready to pound, your toes curl feeling him enter so slowly, "but of course, i will fuck you properly."

© moongumi 2022. all rights reserved, do not copy and publish my writing anywhere else.

You know the "break the bed during sex" trope? How do you think Adrian would be if that happened to him and his partner?

break the bed

(afab gn!reader) (nsfw 18+)

a/n: this is absolute filth. thank you for the prompt ily anon <3 (also i havent been assed to proofread anything rn sorrryyyyy)

In hindsight, it was absolutely mind boggling that the calamity and you and Adrian were making hadn’t prompted a nosy neighbour or passer-by to call the cops.

“Oh fuck yes- Oh fuck yes- OH FUCK YES!” you cried as Adrian fucked you into the bed relentlessly, the lewd sounds of skin slapping punctuating each and every thrust.

“Fuck-Fuck-SHITYOUFEELSOFUCKINGGOOD” Adrian whimpered, his cock slamming into you at a merciless pace as his white-knuckled hand gripped the headboard.

With each thrust, you wailed.

With each thrust, he growled.

And with each thrust, the bed frame began to wobble and screech.

The two of you were too far gone to notice the bed’s dwindling stability, even less so when Adrian hit a particularly erogenous spot hidden deep inside you, prompting you to rake your nails down his back and draw fresh blood with another shrill “FUCK YES ADRIAN DON’T STOP!”

Adrian bit down on your shoulder hard, his curly hair mopping the sweat of your face as he buried his face in your neck to leave harsh, wet, open mouthed kisses, biting and tonguing and moaning against your skin.

“M’gonna fuck you till you can’t walk anymore. M’gonna fill you with my cum and fuck it into you till you can’t even fucking think anymore.” Adrian growled, his possessiveness quickly drawing your orgasm near.

Your hands finished wreaking havoc on the porcelain skin of Adrian’s back, one of them grabbing him by the ass to hoist your hips up even closer to his, rolling them as best as you could under his brain melting pace to push yourself over the edge.

“Adri- ADRIAN! Fuck- I’m gonna-“

Your other hand made the mistake of pressing itself against the headboard to leverage yourself as Adrian was, pulling his body towards it with every thrust so that every last inch of his cock would be inside you. You could feel your legs start to quiver involuntarily as your cunt clenched around him, signalling the start of your undoing, and the very notion of you cumming underneath him brought Adrian to his own orgasm.

The second your hand pushed back on the frame, the entire structure came crumbling to the ground, the mattress falling lopsidedly atop the pile of wooden planks and metal beams.

Adrian was too swept up in the moment, too enraptured by how you made him feel, hence why he continued to fuck the both of you right over the edge, wailing and groaning through the rumbling in your ears and the stars in your eyes and the dust of the disaster settling around you.

“So fucking good-“ Adrian snivelled into the crook of your neck, never ceasing his thrusts as he began to leak out of you and onto the mattress, “-Pussy feels so fucking good cumming around me- Fuck!”

In due time, the two of you settled into a bewildered silence, puffing and panting as Adrain lay on top of you with his semi-hard cock still nestled inside you.

It was like Adrian hadn’t even noticed what’d happened as he wrapped his arms around you, holding your sweaty bodies tightly together as he enjoyed the slick sensation of skin-on-skin and pressed small, sweet, kisses along your jaw.

Your lack of reciprocation soon caught Adrians attention, and he lifted his head up just enough to look at you with those big, innocent green eyes with not a thought behind them and a creased brow.

“What’s wrong babe, you okay?” Adrian asked, eyes scanning your face for missed signs of injury or upset.

“Adrian, we-“ you chortled, so shocked but so impressed that he’d missed the event entirely, “-We just broke the fucking bed.”

“What?” Adrian gasped, curls bouncing as his head frantically whipped around in every direction to take in his surroundings.

And just as you had explained, the mattress was teetering on top of what was essentially a deconstructed ikea flat pack. To put it mildly, Adrian was very pleased with his discovery.

“FUCK YEAH DUDE, LET’S DO IT AGAIN!”

✦　₊　˚　♡ .　₊ ✦ .˚　♡ .　₊ ✦ . ₊　˚　♡ .　₊ ✦ .　˚　♡ .　₊ ✦

vigilante taglist: @redpool @lothiriel9 @darththrog @kingdindjarin @trash--blog @bbwithaknife @nottobegaybutmen @torchbearerkyle @666abby6666 @allukanezuko @fanofverymanythings @hypnoash @chelseaxteens @ellabellabus07 @vlkyriesgf @panickinanakin1 @caramelkatsukis-bitch @leaf-dont-leav

AHHHH GOING FERAL BABE THIS IS IMMACULATE

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this was the winner for the pick of fic, im so sorry it's out later than promised- i just wanted to make sure it wasn't rushed <3 i hope you guys enjoy it!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bodyguard!frank castle x reader

𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤/𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 & 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝! 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭/𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬!

𝟏𝟖+ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+, language, unprotected sex, size kink, oral (m & f), taunting, fingering, praise kink, light cockwarming?, sorry for any missed typos

Traveling with your parents while they're on business was better in theory. It was a lot of waiting around in hotel rooms or conference halls- and it was more boring than you could even imagine. The cities you were in weren't even worth city seeing.

Tonight, while they're out at a charity gala, they left you with your "bodyguard"- or adult babysitter, as you called him. Your parents thought it was best to have extra protection with you, as you're in foreign cities, and they "didn't want anything happening to their only child." Codeword for: we don't trust that you can protect yourself.

Frank traveled with you guys the whole time but never really said anything to you- only small talk and giving you the rundown of the day ahead. He was a grump- and gorgeous.

He stayed with you all day and all night, staying in your hotel room till your parents came back- then he headed to his room. Frank didn't mind you, but you talked a lot more than he liked (you did it mainly to annoy him- see how far you could push him).

The majority of the time, you could convince him to let you sneak off or push him enough to where he clenched his jaw and glared at you. Tonight, on the other hand, was especially hard.

He wasn't budging; he caught on to your little game three cities ago- and if there was anyone as stubborn as you, it was him.

Frank had to keep himself together around you; if he didn't, he would have fallen for you completely. You were nothing like him- and that's what he liked about you. You were like a shot of espresso, always ready for the next thing and challenging him in ways that caught him off guard.

He wanted to be with you, and every day it got harder to push the feelings away.

"Do you ever speak?" You're on the bed with your arms crossed, blankly staring at the tv.

Frank sat in the chair, watching the tv and occasionally watching the door. Nothing has ever happened since he's been with you- not even the slightest threat, but he never let his guard down.

He didn't respond. You sighed,

"What's with the silent treatment?" Sitting up and leaning against the headboard, Frank didn't flinch, eyes still focused on the tv.

"Did my parents tell you not to speak to me or something?" He shrugged, not answering your question.

With each question, his irritation grew- tonight, he was not in the mood for your game.

He inhaled in irritation,

"Do you ever stop talking?" You rolled your eyes.

Huffing, you got up from the bed walking into the bathroom to change. The later it got, the less interested you were in waiting to say goodnight to your parents. You changed out of your sweats and hoodie into spandex and a fitted tank top in the bathroom. Not bothering to put on a bra, you decided to up the anty.

You always wondered what he was like in bed. He was so rough, you wondered if it translated to bed.

Frank does a double-take as you walk out. His eyes instantly fell to your chest- your shirt clung to your breasts, the outline of your nipples peaked through the thin fabric of the shirt. It was the first time Frank had seen this much of your skin- most nights, you opted out for the hoodie or waited till he went to his room to change.

"See something you like?" You tease, not bothering to look at him while putting your phone on the charger and putting away your reading materials in the drawer.

He doesn't say anything but watches as your tidy up your area. Bending over in front of him, picking up your shoes, or grabbing your bags- every move you made, you could feel his eyes burning through you.

Frank tried to look away, but he was mesmerized by your body- and the bounce of your breasts as you bent over. He shifted in his seat, quickly adjusting his jeans, clearing the lump in his throat.

Chuckling, you sat at the edge of the bed- looking at him.

"So, you don't talk, but you stare at my chest?" You ask, watching him avoid eye contact with you.

He clenches his jaw, taking a deep breath- heat rose to his cheeks. Confidence soars through you each time he shifts in his seat, knowing he was finally gonna let you win this round.

"Am I making the big bad punisher blush?" You taunt him further.

"You're a pain in my ass, you know that?" The rasp in his voice sent a shiver up your spine, pebbling your nipples.

"Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?" Laughing, you stand up to walk back to your bed.

Frank laughs, sitting up in the chair. He wasn't going to let you win- especially not that easy.

"Nothing you'd be able to handle." Stopping straight in your tracks, you turn around. He smirks, looking up at your stunned face. Not the response you were expecting from him.

"You're too easy." Frank laughs, taking a swig from the water bottle next to him.

Sitting back down on the edge of the bed, you could feel your blood beginning to boil.

"Easy? I handle anything. You're probably just bluffing anyway." Standing your ground, your eyes follow Frank's as he stands up.

His body toward over yours- and you immediately feel small and instantly regret your words. Frank didn't say anything, just stared your down. Knowing he had you exactly where he wanted you.

Arousal pooled in your panties as the gap between you got smaller. Your breath falls inconsistent, and your heartbeat begins to rise.

"Is that right? You can handle anything?" His voice falls below a whisper.

He wasn't touching you, but your skin burned, and you felt a faint heartbeat in your core- already aching for him.

Standing your ground, even though your legs felt weak, you shook your head.

"Alright, since you can handle anything, why don't I fuck that smart-ass mouth of yours?" Your eyes widened, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

Frank smirks, thinking he's calling your bluff- but you agree.

"Okay." His cock throbbed against the fabric of his briefs.

The image of his cock in your mouth alone was enough for cum to leak from his tip. You kneeled in front of him- the size of his bulge made butterflies flood your stomach. Soon you'd be eating your own words. You unzip his jeans and pull them down.

Frank pulls off his shirt and tosses it on the chair behind him. Looking up, you notice the toned abdomen, and your chest becomes heavy. You tugged his briefs down and bit your tongue when his cock sprung free. The ache between your legs grew, and the arousal dampened your thighs.

Sitting back on your legs, you were hesitant to touch him- he was big- bigger than you think you could handle. Frank watched your eyes widen, and your hand shook as you reached out. He hisses as your cold fingers wrap around his length. You begin to stroke his cock, slowly- locking eyes with him.

Frank liked the sight before him- you on your knees, nipples poking through your shirt, innocently looking up at him like you didn't have your hand on his cock. Running your tongue along from the base to his tip- closing your lips around his head.

Frank hisses as you begin to take more of him in your mouth. Sinking your nails into his thighs, you use him for stability. Letting saliva coat your mouth, you take a deep breath and attempt to take him all. Gagging against his cock, you pull off of him- gasping for breath.

"What happened to 'I-can-handle-anything'?" Frank coos, watching tears well in the corners of your eyes.

Determined to prove him wrong, you slip him back inside your mouth- gagging and tears falling from your eyes; Frank guides your movements. The ache between your legs gets so loud, you swear Frank could hear it.

You relax your jaw and bob your head while he continues to slowly thrust into your mouth. With each thrust, his cock touches the back of your throat. The gags are mixed with moans. Frank's cock twitches in your mouth. Pulling you by the hair, your lungs fill with a full breath as Frank pulls you off his cock.

He was impressed with your determination and loved how small you looked in front of him.

"Good girl..." The praise made your pussy flutter.

Adjusting your hips, you tried to relieve yourself, but nothing helped. You returned to Frank- he was close, pre cum dripped down the side of his length. Licking up the pre cum, you collect the saliva on your tongue and let it drip onto his tip. Not breaking eye contact, Frank was stunned at the act.

You twist and stroke his length using one hand as your other hand begins to massage his balls. Your tongue swirls around his tip. Pleasure rushed down, and Frank's hips buck; within seconds, he's gripping your hair and shoots ropes of cum in your mouth. A string of curses falls from his lips.

You smile devilishly up at him. Frank guides you back to your feet, not hesitating to press his lips against yours. In your mind, you had the advantage back- but Frank had you where he wanted you.

His fingers slipped inside your shorts, you whimper into his mouth. His middle finger circles around your clit, warming your core. Frank's free hand slid up your shirt, holding you steady. Your legs felt numb, and your focus slowly began to slip.

"So wet... Is this all from me fuckin that pretty little mouth?" He whispers against your ear.

Your forehead pressed to his shoulder, your mind felt foggy the more he toyed with your clit. Frank hiked up your shirt over your breasts.

"Fuck," He grunts.

He backs your body back toward the bed, fingers still between your folds. Once the back of your knees hit the bed, he removed his fingers from your cunt. Frank's calloused palms slide up the sides of your body, removing your shirt.

You snap back to reality as soon as your back hits the mattress. His mouth is on your jaw and traveling down your neck. Your fingers run through his hair and your back arches; he makes his way down the valley of your breasts.

His tongue glides down your navel and to the band of your panties. Within seconds your panties are being pulled down your legs and tossed somewhere in the room. The tv still played whatever it was that you two were watching- and you were thanking God you had your own hotel room this time around.

"Christ," He almost whines, spreading open your thighs, finally seeing your cunt.

It's dripping with arousal. He hooks his arms under your legs and begins to kiss the inside of your thighs. Gently blowing on your sensitive skin. You squirm and whine the closer he gets to your clit, and denies the pleasure.

He teases your clit, kissing around your thighs and teasing your hole with his finger.

Frank's lips finally closed around your clit. Sucking on the sensitive nerve, his tongue swirls around it. Shamelessly, you whimper and moan. His palms are caressing the top of your thighs, soothing your squirms. He takes his time, licking up every last drop of your juices- moaning into your cunt.

Your body went into overdrive. The pleasure began to build in the pit of your stomach. You balled the comforter in your hands, tugging on it as your back arched and hips dug into the mattress.

Frank looks up as his middle finger circles around your clit, before he slips two fingers inside you. He starts off slow, watching your body roll into his fingers impatiently. As soon as the pleasure begins to overwhelm you, Frank pulls away.

A frustrated whine leaves your lips, losing your orgasm.

"You wanna cum? You're gonna have to work for it." Frank uses your thighs and pulls your body towards him.

"What?" You hiss, irritated at the lost pleasure.

"You're gonna have to ride my cock, princess." The thought alone made your stomach flutter.

"Unless... you don't think you can handle it." The challenge was enough motivation for you to sit up and huff.

Frank chuckles lay down on the bed. You straddle his hips, taking a deep breath- wondering if you'd rather be right or be able to walk tomorrow.

Frank stares at your body on top of him. The way your breast hung in front of him, the way our thighs sat perfectly on the sides of his, and the way he wanted to wrap his hand around your neck and fuck the attitude out of you.

"I can do it..." Suddenly the confidence you had minutes ago disappeared.

You took a deep breath and lined his cock with your entrance. Frank grunted as you sunk down onto him. You could only take an inch or two before you pulled off. His cock stretched your walls more than ever before- you whimpered and lined him up again. Tears soon well in your eyes the more you try to take.

"You can do, princess. I believe in you," Frank taunts, rubbing over your thighs.

Ignoring his remarks, you went down further, moaning and falling forward. You caught yourself putting your hands on his chest, using him as stability. Taking another breath, you sunk down again. Frank's palms rest on your hips, helping you along.

"Fuck!" You moan, digging your nails into his chest.

"Am I too big for your little cunt? It's okay to admit when you're wrong, princess."

You're unable to form sentences, too overwhelmed with pleasure.

His cock fills your cunt, stretching your walls out completely. Staying still for a moment to adjust to his size- before Frank starts to thrust upward. Yelping in pleasure, Frank picks up his pace. Your body goes numb.

Frank had to find a steady pace, or he'd cum too early. Your walls pulsated around his cock, pushing closer and closer to his orgasm- but he needed you to say it, say that you were wrong. He wasn't going to let you finish until you admitted it.

"Look at you, fucked out already?" Frank teases.

Frank wrapped his arm around your back, adjusting your body, so he was upright. The adjustment pushed him deeper inside you, and your arms wrapped around his neck- muffling your incoherent sounds into his neck.

The deeper he went, the tighter the knot in your stomach became. One last adjustment, and you're on your back with your neck at the edge of the bed. Your legs wrapped around his waist, meeting his strokes halfway.

"You're gonna cum, aren't you? I can feel it, princess." His lips press against your jaw while other is cupping the other side and teasingly falling to your neck.

All you could do was nod your head and whimper; you couldn't think anymore- he won, and you didn't care anymore about winning. All you wanted was to cum.

"If you wanna cum, tell me I'm right." Another deep, slow stroke, taunting you.

"Tell me I'm right; tell me how good I'm making that needy cunt feel." Gathering enough words in your head, you mumble.

"You're right..." Frank moves his mouth away from your jaw and looks you in the eye.

"And?" Your eyes are locked on his, and it's getting harder to hold back your orgasm.

"... you feel so good inside me," That's all you could muster before he picked up his pace once more.

"Yeah?" He holds the eye contact.

"Show me. Cum for me." With permission, your mouth falls open, your hips squirm and dig into the mattress, and your nails sink into his back.

Your walls contract around him, and he hisses in pleasure.

Frank follows soon behind you, filling your cunt up with his cum. He watches your face relax, and your chest falls back into a steady rhythm. Frank holds himself inside you for a moment to catch his own breath. Once your body calms down from the high, you lean forward and press your lips against his.

While your lips are on his, he lays on his side, pulling you into him- still inside you, you place your leg over his.

"Stay here tonight..." You whisper, tracing up and down his bicep.

Not realizing what he has gotten himself into, he nods- kissing your forehead.

Jschlatt Imagines - Party Meet Cute

I've had this sitting in my drafts forever! I def wanna go back and add more (maybe with some nsfw) but I wanna put this out anyways. If you guys like this enough, I might just make a part 2! Or a full blown fic?? Idk. Please comment/reblog your thoughts.

No warnings, really. Mentions of partying and drinking. fem/gender neutral reader. Enjoy this party meet cute with the big guy!

Schlatt literally fell into your life one night.

A friend of a friend invited you to Charlie's party, begging you to be their plus one. You figured, why not? You were free and there would be a bunch of streamers there, so you decided to see what the night had in store for you.

At first, you were nervous as hell, stuck to your friend's side like a leech. But your worries slowly dissipated as you started chatting with people. 

You meet a lot of Charlie's good friends, including Ludwig, Ted and Hasan. They all seemed way too nice to have literally millions of followers on twitch. But hey, it was a great group of people AND you were having fun at a party! Yipee!

Maybe it was the constant blaring music or the shot of Titos you had earlier, but you swear you heard the word “shat”, like, multiple times. And it seemed like it was addressed... to a person? What??

Whatever. You shrug it off. Maybe it was an inside joke in the streaming community.

You decide to take a break from all the socializing to slip into the kitchen, where you find your friend and hunker down next to the fridge.

One moment, you're gossiping and having a nice time, and the next you're pushed sideways and shrieking. Some strange man barrels into your body and shoves your head into your friend's shoulder to prevent his fall.

“The fuck?” You shout, almost chuckling at the bizarre situation unfolding. His hand practically engulfs your entire face.

“Woah! Sorry, toots. Lost my cool there.” He chuckles nonchalantly and peels his sweaty hand off your face, wiping it on his leather jacket which makes you cringe.

Ugh. How drunk is this guy?

He quickly straightens himself and readjusts his jacket. Amidst your disgust and confusion, you take a better look at him.

Oh no. Oh fuck. He's absurdly tall and super fucking handsome. Strike one.

He had these mutton chops that could cut through steel. An odd look for the 21st century, but you admit, it suited him surprisingly well. Strike two.

What really drew you in, though, were his eyes. Despite his intimidating broad figure, his eyes were a soft chestnut brown that just… left you staring for way too long.

Strike three.

“No, yeah. It's all good. You okay, dude?” You ask. Your voice quivers as you take in his intimidating presense. You can't help but blush when you catch him checking you out.

Or, at least that's what you thought he was doing. He could've been 12 shots deep for all you knew.

With a quick nod, he flashes a lopsided grin and by god does your heart skip a beat. 

“That's not how I usually carry myself, by the way. I don't just go stumbling into cute girls thinking I own the place.” His words floated off his tongue effortlessly, almost like he had said this a million times before.

Is that... is that a New York accent? He leans down to meet your gaze. Oh my god. Holy fuck.

You laugh at him - probably a little too loudly. “Sorry again.” The mystery man says, sticking his hand out to you. “The name's-”

“SCHLATT!!” Ted's booming voice cuts through the quiet murmur of the kitchen. He bursts through the door and immediately puts the guy in a headlock, scratching his head vigorously. 

“Ow! Hey, man! Cut it out!” The man grumbles, trying to pry Ted's arm off of his neck. 

The others lingering in the kitchen laugh at them, even your friend. Huh. This must be normal, right? Ted and…?

Oh, wait. 

Schlatt. This is the guy everyone's been talking about. 

Ted finally lets go, gritting his teeth playfully and ruffling Schlatt's hair. “You owe me for that whiskey, buddy.” Ted exclaims, letting him go and pointing a finger at his chest. 

“Hey, it's not my fault the Jack Daniels was just sittin’ out like that.” Schlatt slurs. “Finders, keepers, dude.” He smirks at his friend playfully.

Ted scoffs and glances between you and him. “Ah, Y/N. You've met Schlatt. Careful. He can be a real pain in the ass.” 

Schlatt smooths his hair back and rolls his eyes. “If you're really that sour, man, I'll just buy you a new truck. So, ya know, we’re even.”

“Fat chance!” Ted calls out, walking backwards and swiveling on his heels to going back into the living room. "This isn't over, bitch!"

And that’s the rest of it! :D The background cracks in the Flash were done by rah-bop, and that’s why they arent’ included here! It really was a blast drawing this, and I’m glad ya’ll enjoyed the update as much as I did! ^u^

I’ll probably put a bonus section later for some drafts that weren’t accepted hehe! :)

Thank you for all your support!