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[zombiified]

ugly freak

[sn0wbat]

some lore for my vampire thing. vampire hair is strange indeed

[t-5secondsart]

Linktober Day 26: Overgrown

Shadow has never cut his hair in their life. And it grows... a little faster than your average person's.

[rowanhoney]

.

[mass4ubd]

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[luminnara]

Unheavenly Creatures III | Feyd-Rautha x reader (NSFW)

Part One | Part Two |

MASTERLIST

Requests are open!

Tags: @austinswhitewolf @aeilani @maneater17 @serrendiipty @belovedbastardremus @the-dark-dreamer25 @cauliflowercounty @mamawiggers1980 @catsinacottage @targaryen-madness @juliskopf

Warnings: group sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mentions of cannibalism

Feyd-Rautha’s holy birthday lasted a full week. All of Giedi Prime celebrated their na-Baron, and for the nobility, that meant several long days of feasting, gladiatorial spectacles, and pro-House Harkonnen propaganda.

Within the walls of the palace, yet another banquet was being prepared, all of the extra chairs already placed at the long table in the dining hall. All of the important guests would be present for this last great feast before they began their journeys home in the coming days, and, upon Feyd-Rautha's request--demand, really--you and your fellow concubines were to be in attendance.

"Do we often receive these dinner summons?" you asked, facing yourself in a mirror as a servant ran a razor over your scalp. Though you had received two rounds of Harkonnen beauty treatments intended to halt hair growth entirely, you had woken up that morning with a soft layer of peach fuzz atop your head. After a fair amount of taunting from Feyd-Rautha, whose ego seemed to be running particularly rampant after so many days of celebration, an attendant from the Baron’s spa had come to take care of the problem, rubbing you in more Harkonnen chemicals while the others prepared themselves for the day.

“On occasion,” Yarina hissed, smoothing a beauty cream over her brow.

“I prefer feasting here, with Feyd,” Issa said, sounding annoyed. “There are always many eyes on us in the dining hall.”

“I enjoy watching the other Houses,” Yarina said. “Sometimes there is even a Bene Gesserit.”

You hummed in thought as the spa attendant finished with you, bowed, and backed out of the room as quickly and quietly as possible. She likely feared you; after all, Feyd’s concubines had been known to bite, especially when hungry. Only the day before you had watched as Yarina snapped her sharp teeth at the Baron’s mentat when he walked too close, and you had heard stories of Feyd-Rautha returning to his chambers to find that she and Issa had slaughtered a servant. Once, supposedly, they had even killed a would-be assassin they had sniffed out, though the remains were far too mutilated for anyone to determine the offender’s House or origins.

“Do you recall how I spoke of my former House allying with House Harkonnen?” You asked, turning to look at the others in their seats.

They both perked up at the question.

“They will be in attendance?” Yarina asked with a grin.

“I assume so,” you said. “Perhaps we will see them today.”

Issa twisted in her seat to better face you, the motion fluid and languid. “Perhaps Feyd will serve them to us on a platter.”

The two bared their teeth at each other in delight, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever grow to become so ravenous. When they weren’t concerned with Feyd-Rautha, their cravings always turned to food, and they sometimes acted as though they were starving. You knew that couldn’t be the case; they ate at least two full meals a day, oftentimes three, with snacks sprinkled in throughout. This week, thanks to all of the feasting, they were surely not actually hungry…but they spoke of it more frequently than ever, eyeing the fresh corpses the ba-Baron left in his wake and hissing whenever he told them no.

“I think it is likely we will be asked to sit and eat quietly,” you said, testing the waters with your statement. “Don’t you? There will be so many important guests.”

“Not important to me,” Issa turned back around as she continued her beauty rituals, seeming uninterested now.

You sat and watched the two of them and wondered what they may have been like before falling into Feyd-Rautha’s service. Had they been the daughters of Harkonnen nobility, living in the palace and watching the na-Baron in the arena every other week? Perhaps they had known him in their youth, or at least Yarina had. You recalled that she had been with him the longest, though you did not know by what margin she surpassed Issa. Had they been Harkonnen celebrities? Models, perhaps? Feyd preferred to remain in the palace, and so you had never spent much time venturing forth into the capital city. Perhaps their images had been all over Giedi Prime, advertising synthetic food products. Perhaps they had both been the daughters of families with spice fortunes, or perhaps they, like you, had once been in the employ of noblewomen, and had found their way into Feyd-Rautha’s lap.

Or, you thought with a shudder, perhaps they had come from the Bene Tleilax, and they were simply some of their tamer genetically modified products. You had glimpsed the creatures kept as pets by the Baron, strange, mutated things that scurried about on too many spider-legs yet understood human speech. If Vladimir could purchase such things, then perhaps Feyd had purchased modified Harkonnen women for his own collection…though, you knew Giedi Prime itself hosted scientists and beauticians capable of making the changes Yarina and Issa sported, because they had made them to you.

You found yourself favoring the model theory, though it left room for improvement. Feyd’s darlings had a lust for human flesh that you had yet to see in any other Harkonnen. Even Feyd-Rautha didn’t partake in the same way. He ingested blood, most often yours, and you had seen him eat the prepared organ here or there, but they all acted as if you needed to consume them. You wondered if there would be lungs at this final feast.

You enjoyed lung.

As the others finished in front of the mirror, you stood, moving to the rack of clothing reserved for you. You did not know who created the dresses you wore, only that they were likely highly respected and revered. You regularly received new ensembles, and they were always simple—black, industrial, synthetic garments that matched the others’. Shortly after Feyd -Rautha took you in, you had been measured by a tailor’s assistant, a box of clothing arriving in your chambers the following morning. You often dressed yourself, but for special occasions, servants cleaned and laid your dresses out for you, and you had become rather pampered after a week of this.

Now, you stood facing a black dress, its shiny material soft and rubbery to the touch. A fair portion of the bodice was a thin, flesh-toned mesh, making it appear that the black, synthetic material of the dress only covered two thin lines stretching from your waist and up over your breasts. The skirt was long and opaque, and simple black slippers sat on the floor beneath where it hung.

You reached for it and slipped it over your head, enjoying the feeling of the stretchy fabric on your bare skin. It was smooth and without any blemishes, just the way House Harkonnen liked their things to be. Looking at your reflection now, you felt streamlined, welcoming the way the dress hugged you, the garment clinging as if it had been painted on.

Issa and Yarina had been gifted matching gowns, and when they had both finished their beauty rituals, a servant helped them dress. You should have requested—demanded—the assistance as well, you realized, but old habits died hard, and there were some things you didn’t think would ever come second nature. You were still too used to being the one summoned to help with the stately garments of your former mistress, and you continuously had to remind yourself now that you were one of the highest-ranking women on all of Giedi Prime.

“How do I look?” Yarina asked, though it was a rhetorical question.

“Divine,” Issa hissed with a grin, showing her teeth in a way that was anything but heavenly.

Yarina returned it, then looked to you. You agreed with Issa, lips stretching into a too-wide smile, before the three of you devolved into a fit of unholy giggling, the servants wincing as your shrieking laughter pierced their eardrums.

“I do so enjoy these events,” Yarina sighed, making her way towards the doorway.

“Why is that?” You asked, following.

You walked out into the main room in which Feyd’s bed sat, passing it as you trailed behind her, Issa behind you. You all three retired to the lounge area, sitting on the smooth black couches as a servant poured three glasses of a dark, viscous drink.

“The guests are fascinating,” Yarina said as she waved a hand, dismissing all of the servants. “Issa doesn’t think so. But I do.”

They quickly fled the room, shoulders hunched as they stared down at their feet. You had seen more and more of them all week, a result of the na-Baron’s birthday festivities. They were being worked round the clock, you surmised, and they were probably able to thanks to the chemical stimulants the Harkonnens so loved.

“Before I came here, i attended many dinners that my mistress hosted for the other Great Houses,” you said. “Or, I suppose, I helped her prepare for them, and was occasionally allowed to sit in. I was never so important there as I am here.”

“You’re very important,” Issa hissed, the sound coming out gentler than normal. “To us.”

“And all of Giedi Prime,” Yarina ran the back of her knuckles over your arm.

“And Feyd,” Issa added.

“What about Feyd?” A rough voice asked as the door slid open.

Your heart jumped in elation as Feyd-Rautha strode into the room. He stopped in front of the sitting area, looking over the three of you with dark eyes. He did this often; you knew he would spend hours watching you if he could, and he sometimes did, memorizing every curve, taking note of what he liked best and what he wished to change. Some of it had surprised you, and in some ways, he was far less demanding than men on other planets, including the one you had come from. In other areas, though, he was very specific, and you sometimes wondered why. He had his tastes, you supposed, and he had the means to indulge, unlike many others. You were his precious toy, a doll to be played with and modified as he pleased.

“We’ve missed you,” Issa purred, standing.

You followed suit. You would have crawled to him if you had to, but it was never a race, nor was it a struggle. You moved at the same pace as the others, and when you reached him, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, just as he did theirs, though his hand found its way to your waist as he draped himself over you in what could have been considered an embrace.

“I’ve missed you as well, m’darlings,” he murmured as he kissed you once more before letting go and moving on to Yarina.

“Do you like our dresses?” You asked.

As he leaned back, you felt his eyes rake over you. Then, he smirked, and you found yourself wishing to feel his lips upon you once more.

“Beautiful.”

And you knew he meant it, because he always did.

-0-

A servant fetched you when it was time, though Feyd seemed determined to make all four of you fashionably late, as he was too busy holding your hips down as you straddled his face to be bothered with leaving in a timely manner. Eventually, however, he had had his fill, and you were trying to ignore the slickness between your thighs as you followed him out of the suite.

The corridors were abuzz with activity, Harkonnen aristocrats and visitors alike pausing to watch as you passed. You heard whispers and saw hands shielding mouths as if that would keep their words from reaching your ears, and even if it could, you already knew what they were saying. They’d been exchanging the same shocked, starstruck expressions the entire week, their eyes glued to you as if trying to memorize every pore, every flex, every muscle. You had mostly grown used to the scrutiny of the public eye on Giedi Prime, and your skin no longer crawled when the hungry gazes of the aristocracy raked over it. your newfound celebrity fit like a glove, it seemed.

The dining hall was nearly full when you finally reached it, most of the long table’s place setting s occupied. It was rare that you ate within these walls, Feyd often preferring to take his meals in his chambers rather than with his uncle; he had never given any explicit explanation as to why, but you had always imagined he preferred the peace and time away from the Baron.

The banquet hall’s longest table, reserved for these special feasts and meetings, played host to a variety of foods, some of which you did not recognize even after all of your time living amongst House Harkonnen. You did spy, however, a platter of kidneys near another of livers, two organs you had grown increasingly familiar with as of late. They both sat before three empty chairs positioned near one end of the long, metal table, and you recognized them to be places set for yourself and your companions.

“Your na-Baron, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” a voice announced as you followed Feyd further into the room.

The dinner guests all stood quickly while the slaves lining the walls stared at the floor. The air was tense, as it so often was within the Baron’s walls, though Baron Harkonnen himself appeared to be rather at ease; he did not deign to rise for his nephew, choosing instead to slouch in his chair and spread his arms wide in a celebratory gesture.

“Finally, you join us, nephew,” came his voice like wet stones grinding over each other.

Though you could not see Feyd-Rautha’s expression from your position behind him, you imagined the glower you knew to be there. He had been cross with his uncle all week, ever since the incident with the not-drugged Atreides slave in the arena. You could not blame him for his disdain—Vladimir Harkonnen’s gaze still made your skin crawl whenever you felt those beady eyes upon you.

Without a word, Feyd walked to the chair nearest the door, directly across the long table from the Baron, who sat at its head. You followed in line, making for the third and furthest open seat from his with the expectation that Issa and Yarina would occupy the two closer to the na-Baron, indicating their seniority. You were surprised when they both fluidly sidestepped past you, positioning you at Feyd’s right hand while they took the two further seats, conspiracy shimmering in their huge black eyes. There was no time to question them, however; the moment Feyd-Rautha reached forward and drank from his wine cup, the spell of silence was broken and the feasting began.

The Baron spoke to his nearby mentat about something too boring for you to care to attempt to listen in on, and soon, the guests began conversing amongst themselves, the huge banquet hall filled with the low, echoing murmur of their voices. As you looked around at them, you recognized the fashions of a few Great Houses and wondered if you had once played host to these very same people on your home planet. You recognized thinly-veiled mannerisms of unnerved yet fascinated tourists, some of them trying their best to avoid insulting the greatly-feared Feyd-Rautha at his own birthday feast. Their eyes had a tendency to wander, even this early into dinner, and you watched as a few of them glanced over to him while conversing with their fellows only to quickly look away once more.

You noticed how they all seemed to be avoiding looking at you, their eyes seeming to skip past your corner of the table on their way to and from the na-Baron. In your peripheral vision, you could see that Issa and Yarina had yet to move, their silverware and metal drinking cups untouched as they, too, surveyed the room. You briefly thought of the story of how they had sniffed out the assassin, and you wondered if they were attempting to do the same now. If they were, it put a damper on your plan to speak to them; you certainly wouldn’t want to interrupt their work if there truly was someone nefarious afoot. Or at least, someone more nefarious than the average Harkonnen nobility.

As you looked down the table, you spied several intriguing figures—A veiled woman stood out, her food disappearing behind her covering. You recognized her to be Bene Gesserit, a witch whom you could never hope to understand, if she was anything like the ones you had encountered in your previous home. While you could not see her face, you imagined that she was watching the room much in the same way you were, though you were certain her thoughts were far more secretive and far more conniving than your benign observations.

Nearer to the Baron, you spied Feyd’s older brother, Glossu Rabban, the Count of Lankiveil, the rainy planet Feyd-Rautha had been born on. You had often wondered if Feyd remembered his true home…though it was incredibly difficult to imagine him residing anywhere else, when he so perfectly matched Giedi Prime’s harshness.

Glossu seemed happy to be seated near to his uncle. You could hear him laughing loudly, tearing into his food as he soaked up the attention his brother’s guests were obliged to pay him. The former governor of Arrakis still harbored a bruised ego after control of the spice-planet had been plucked out of House Harkonnen’s grasp, and you found it a bit difficult to believe that you were supposed to be afraid of him. Everyone called him Beast Rabban, and perhaps you had simply spent too much time around his younger brother to buy into the nickname.

As your eyes traveled back down the opposite side of the table, you recognized the textiles of your home planet and let your gaze linger. Had you really once worn clothing like that? So many layers of warm, knit fabric that would smother you beneath Giedi Prime’s sun? You had grown so used to the fashion of House Harkonnen and the stretchy, rubbery material you so often wore now that the thought of being weighed down by such heavy clothing made your chest feel tight. The dark blues and greens of your former home looked strange to you now, and as your eyes trailed upwards to the faces of the nobles who wore them, you found that you nearly didn’t recognize them.

There they sat, the Lord and Lady, the heads of your former House. She wore her hair long, and as you studied it, you remembered how it felt to brush every night and every morning, for she would never stoop so low as to maintain it herself. He bore a naive, jovial expression, that of a man who thought himself surrounded by nothing less than friends, a man who believed he could buy anything and anyone though his House was far from the richest or most powerful. To his credit, the people nearest to him enjoyed his company, laughing and smiling at his words. What he lacked in true power he made up for in charisma.

“Is that them?” Yarina hissed below the sound of conversation.

“Yes,” you replied, finally tearing your eyes away from your former masters to survey the food in your immediate vicinity.

“Hmph.” She scoffed.

“Unimpressed?” You asked.

“Highly.”

You heard a snort of amusement to your left and glanced in its direction. Feyd-Rautha was slumped back in his chair, cup in one hand while the other supported his chin as he leaned his elbow on the chair’s arm.

“Unimpressed, indeed.” He murmured, then leaned in and passed his goblet to you. “You may need this more than I, darlin’.”

Conversation around your end of the table lulled as the dinner guests paused to watch the na-Baron’s gesture. They had all been keeping one eye on him, you surmised, speaking with their peers whilst nervously watching for any change in his behavior. His movement drew their attention and soon their gazes were fixed upon you, intense, judgmental curiosity burning into you as you steeled yourself and accepted the wine.

“Thank you, Feyd.” You said in your best Issa imitation.

Feyd offered a smirk and reached for you, his hand lingering beneath your chin as his thumb brushed your cheek while you drank. The wine—if it could even be called as such—was thick, and you recognized it to be a mixture of blood and an as yet unknown liquid that made its appearance in Harkonnen cuisine regularly. It contained spice, you knew; you could taste it, a hot, somewhat savory tinge that sent a tingle down your spine.

“Of course.” He squeezed the back of your neck for a moment, something he often did absentmindedly, and took the goblet back.

Still aware of the guests’ gazes, you turned your attention to your food. Plucking a kidney off a platter, you chewed it slowly, eyes remaining on the table as you listened to the conversation pick back up.

“From where did you acquire your concubines, na-Baron?” Someone asked.

You glanced up at Feyd to see him watching a man across from you. He seemed to be deciding whether he wanted to play nice or demand an execution take place, his jaw set as his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. It was his holy birthday, though, and nearly the end of the celebrations, and you watched as he chose the more peaceful, talkative route.

“My darlings find their way to me on their own.” He said.

“How so, na-Baron?”

“He purchases them!” Baron Vladimir interrupted from the other end of the table, laughing loudly in a way that was not entirely free of mocking.

All heads swiveled to face him, yours included. Yarina hissed quietly, a noise of distaste. If she were any nearer to the Baron, you’d have been afraid that he would have heard and immediately demanded she be disposed of…but there, so close to Feyd, she was safe. And so were you. 

Feyd-Rautha glared at his uncle, who continued.

“My nephew is a man who knows what he wants,” Vladimir said. “Nothing will deter him—and nothing is too good for my heir. That is why when he interrupts trade negotiations to demand a new plaything be included in the deal, I oblige.”

Feyd’s expression was purely sour, his cheeks hollowing as his jaw clenched. When he spoke, you heard the restraint in his voice. “And I am ever thankful, Uncle.”

The Baron gave a nod, clearly pleased with himself, and as conversation began anew your eyes drifted to the rulers of your former planet. They seemed unable to choose how they should feel—you spied smugness in their expressions alongside confusion and mild alarm. Were they suddenly worried now? Concerned for the well-being of the handmaiden they had sold without so much as a second thought? You watched as they shared an uncertain look with each other before they forced smiles onto their faces once more.

You heard a quiet hmph to your right and realized that Issa and Yarina had also been watching them, their nearly identical faces parallel to your own. Would your previous keepers even be able to tell you apart from them? Had it been so long and had you changed so much that they’d be unable to choose you from a lineup?

“You may pursue them later,” Feyd rasped, cutting into a piece of meat. “Eat now, darlings.”

Issa hummed, the sound more akin to a purr, and you obliged as well, plucking a rare lung off of a platter and chewing it thoughtfully. The conversation around you blended into dull, white noise, and as always, your focus was more on Feyd-Rautha than anywhere else.

He conversed with his guests and you occasionally felt his leg or foot brush against yours beneath the table, a reminder that he was there. You ate in silence, sometimes sharing a glance with Issa and Yarina when something stood out in the sea of voices. You could tell they were more interested in the Bene Gesserit than anyone else in attendance, their black eyes fixated on the woman they could not even see behind the veil. Why they cared so much, you did not know…so you left them to it and tried to enjoy your first large banquet on Giedi Prime.

After a final course of black, bloody desserts, dinner concluded. Feyd-Rautha left the room first and you followed closely behind, hot on his heels as he strode out into the corridor. The Baron was next to leave, surrounded by his guard, and you hovered behind Feyd as his uncle said a final happy birthday before floating away in the direction of his private spa.

Feyd-Rautha glared after him, fists clenched at his sides. “I should kill him.”

The bold statement alarmed you, but the others remained calm.

“He will not taste good,” Issa hissed, leaning her chin on his shoulder as her hands spread over his chest from behind. “So much meat, gone to waste…”

Feyd still stared at his uncle’s shadow as it retreated around a corner. “He does not deserve to be eaten.”

“Why do you wish to kill him, Feyd?” You asked, stepping out to face him and gazing at him with big, black eyes.

The na-Baron’s head snapped around to look at you, and there he saw you for what you were; his newest, freshest, most naive concubine, whose home planet was half a galaxy away and who had nothing but him and his other darlings now. Though you had settled in well and called Giedi Prime your home now, he was reminded that you were not truly Harkonnen, and you might never be.

“Do you wish to speak with your former owners?” He asked, changing the subject.

You frowned at the attempted diversion, but took the bait nonetheless and considered his question. Did you wish to see them? In the time you had spent away, you had changed considerably, not only physically but mentally as well. Harkonnen customs were less and less strange by the day, and your memories of your old home felt odd and dreamlike now. What would you gain from revisiting the people from that life? Did you desire closure? Or were you beginning to lean towards speaking with them because a part of you was still angry about their abandonment of you, and you wanted them to see what had become of the handmaiden they left behind on Giedi Prime?

“I do, Feyd.”

“…then we will call on them tonight.” He decided, taking your hand and pressing a kiss that was smooth as a sharpened blade to the back of it.

“How exciting,” Issa hissed as the four of you made your way to the na-Baron’s royal chambers.

“We have never had such an opportunity,” Yarina said, eyes alight with mischief.

“Did you see their faces at the feast?” Issa laughed, taking your hand and twisting your fingers together with hers. “They did not know how to feel, knowing what happened to you.”

“I will not accept their pity,” you growled. “I do not need it, when my life is so much better now.”

“Pity?” Yarina asked, taking your other hand in hers. “Why should they pity you?”

You mulled your next words over, unsure of what to say. Not wanting to offend them nor Feyd-Rautha, you spoke carefully. “Because of how they must see me, through their eyes.”

The harpies seemed genuinely confused, looking at each other with tilted heads.

“They must see me as a slave,” you continued.

“Are there no concubines on their planet?” Issa asked. “Do they not know what it means to be one?”

“No, they…they are married and I do not remember any concubines there,” you said, now thoroughly confused by their confusion.

“…oh, pet,” Feyd-Rautha twisted his head back to look at you, pausing in his journey back to his rooms. “…you truly do not understand, do you?”

“What? What do I not understand?” You asked, looking between him and the others.

“Call yourself what you will,” he said, raising a hand to cup the side of your neck in a possessive way, “concubine. Pet. Darling. But you are mine, whatever you are. You bear no crown, but any heir you give me would be legitimate. You belong to a Great House with wealth and power far beyond that of your old masters’, and now, in the eyes of House Harkonnen and the Imperium, you are far more important than them.”

“I…am?” You asked.

“Of course,” Yarina laid a hand on your shoulder.

“It is nost pity they will feel towards you,” Issa said. “It is fear.”

-0-

Feyd-Rautha gave the Lord and Lady of your home planet precisely ten Giedi Prime minutes to prepare themselves before the four of you arrived at their guest room. You could imagine them scrambling, forever obsessed with their image and always wanting to impress the greater Houses. At this time of night, the Lady would have already been changing into her robes for sleeping, and once upon a time, you would have been the one dressing her for this seemingly impromptu visit. Tonight, you were assisted by your own servant, who dressed you in another smooth black dress that clung to you like a second skin.

As your arrival was announced by one of the guards at the door, it slid open to reveal plain living chambers. You recalled the rooms in the guest wing from your brief time staying in your own, when what had been intended as a brief visit to Giedi Prime became a permanent move. The walls were bare, the furniture sparse, and the suite’s inhabitants looked sorely out of place amongst the brushed steel and industrial trimmings.

They appeared flustered, dressed in heavy, opulent evening wear. It would be strange to host anyone so late in the day, and downright shocking to receive the na-Baron himself, someone who could—and should—have demanded they come to him and not the other way round. Yet there stood Feyd-Rautha with his entourage, hands folded neatly behind his back, knives sheathed at his sides. You stood behind his right shoulder, facing the people you once served, looking at them through different eyes. They seemed so strange to you now, so foreign; you could barely remember how it felt to braid hair like theirs, or handle the textiles they wore. You had grown used to the Harkonnen customs that surrounded you, and the ways of your own birth house had become entirely alien.

“Na-Baron, this is quite a surprise!” The Lord said nervously as he rose from his seat.

“The feast was positively divine,” the Lady added, standing as well.

“To what do we owe such an honor?”

Feyd-Rautha simply watched them for a long moment, looking on as they quickly grew uncomfortable beneath his scrutinizing gaze.

“We are not here to speak about the feast.” He finally said.

“O-oh?” The Lord stammered. “Please, how may we be of assistance, na-Baron?”

“You recall the pet I obtained from you.” Feyd said bluntly.

“The handmaiden?” The Lady asked, glancing away from him to look at his companions. “Yes, of course.”

“It was an honor to supply a servant to the esteemed na-Baron of House Harkonnen,” the Lord added. “Would you like more? We have several with us—“

“No.” Feyd-Rautha interrupted with a glare. “I have no need for more.”

You felt your heart swell with a smug pride.

“I came to show what’s been done with your former slave,” he said.

“Oh, no, na-Baron, we of our House do not keep slaves—“

“Shh,” the Lady hissed sharply, silencing her husband as Feyd-Rautha stepped aside to reveal his darlings in full.

You stood between the others, watching from your place in line as the Lord and Lady looked at each other uneasily. When their eyes turned to you, there almost seemed to be a spark of recognition there…but when they saw Issa and Yarina, it faded, and you realized they had no clue which one was you.

“Surely she is not here with us,” the Lord said, glancing to the na-Baron.

“Harkonnen beauty treatments,” Feyd said, grinning and revealing his black teeth. “And my own strict regimen.”

“And how have you been…enjoying her?” The Lady asked.

“Ask her yourself.”

Her eyes passed over you twice. “Is that you, my dear?”

Issa hissed.

The Lady looked even more uncomfortable, and it was then that you chose to take pity on her and stepped forward.

“I must admit, I am a bit disappointed,” you said, facing her evenly. “We used to spend so much time together, after all.”

“There you are!” She exclaimed, placing a hand over her chest in melodramatic relief. “Tell me, how do you fare? It has been so difficult finding a new handmaiden of your caliber. Good help can be so tricky, you understand.”

She looked to the na-Baron as if he could relate. He offered nothing but a slight grimace in return.

“When I was informed that I was to stay on Giedi Prime, I thought the world was ending.” You admitted. “Everything I had ever known was suddenly so far away, completely out of my grasp…and I was left in the care of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, a man whose reputation precedes him throughout the galaxy.”

“It was just business, you understand,” the Lord said.

“Business?” You asked, looking to him with your black, unblinking eyes.

“Well…yes,” he shifted uncomfortably.

“Darling, we would never have given you up for anything less than your worth,” the Lady said.

You wanted to recoil, but you held firm, your voice even when you spoke. “Only the na-Baron may call me that.”

“I beg your pardon?” She scoffed.

Issa and Yarina hissed quietly.

“Feyd-Rautha is the only one permitted to call me that.” You repeated.

“Call you what?”

“Darlin’…are you certain you do not want them dead?” Feyd interjected, one of his knives suddenly unsheathed.

The Lord and Lady both suddenly paled.

“Th-there’s no need for that!” The Lord stammered quickly. “My wife meant no harm, na-Baron—“

“Do not apologize to me.” Feyd-Rautha growled. “Apologize to her.”

The Lady looked as if she would rather drink the black sludge in the Harkonnen spa. “Na-Baron, she is a handmaiden—“

“I am a concubine,” you said sternly, mustering as much confidence as you could in that moment. “And you are a guest in my home.” You stepped forward to face her more evenly, staring at her. In the past, she had always seemed larger than life, and though you knew much more of her personal life than most on her planet, she has always been glamorous and untouchable. Now, you saw that she was simply a woman—much in the same way that your lovely Feyd was simply a man.

“Remind them to fear you,” you heard Yarina hiss quietly from behind you.

“I’m hungry…” Issa whined.

“Patience,” Feyd-Rautha muttered.

“I am the reason we are here now,” you said to the Lady. “It was my choice to come to this room and face you.”

“Why, then?” She asked, holding her chin high as she looked down her nose at you.

“So that you might see what became of the servant girl you left behind.”

“Am i to feel ashamed, then?” She asked. “We did what we felt was right.”

“You sold me.”

“Tell me, then, are you not happy here?”

“I am.” You admitted. “And I do not doubt you have lost no sleep over me. I suppose I chose to come here to see you again…to look you in the eye as an equal and ask myself why I ever thought you were my superior.”

Her face twisted then as she tried to hold herself back. Had you spoken to her in such a way while in her service, you no doubt would have received a lashing—but now, with Feyd-Rautha and two ravenous harpies mere steps away, she didn’t dare touch you.

“You were the final thing connecting me to my old life,” you said. “A part of me wanted to find out if I would miss it. If seeing you again would provoke some sort of longing inside me. But…I am very pleased to find that I feel nothing of the kind.”

“Then what is next, Lady Harkonnen?” She asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I will have your tongue served on a platter if you do not learn to hold it.” 

She blinked in shock.

“I once thought you to be some great and noble creature,” you wrinkled your nose. “But you are only a person. How silly i once was, to have ever feared you, when you should be the one who fears me.”

You turned your back on her then, returning to Feyd-Rautha. He stood with the others, testing his blade’s sharpness with his own fingertips out of boredom.

“Finished?” He asked.

“We are done here,” you replied.

“Do you feel better?”

“I do.”

He brushed his thumb over your cheek, smearing dark blood over your skin. “Let us leave.”

You felt your former mistress watching you as you fell in behind him and exited the room, and you could imagine her anger and confusion. You had no doubt given her too much to dwell on for the night, but your own heart felt a bit lighter now, and any doubts you may have had that Giedi Prime was truly your home had been thoroughly snuffed out.

“I wanted to taste them,” Issa hissed.

“Exotic food is so difficult to come by…” Yarina sighed, taking your arm in hers.

“Harder to kill leaders of the Great Houses,” Feyd glanced over his shoulder. “There are more questions asked.”

“Killing them would not have solved anything,” you said.

“It would have solved my hunger.” Issa said.

“We will find you fresh lungs,” Feyd grinned. “A snack, before bed.”

You saw her return the grin, her sharp, black teeth glistening in the low light of the corridor. When she looked to you excitedly, you found her joy to be infectious, and smiled back at her.

-0-

“Feyd?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Will you join me in the bath?”

He looked to where the others were sleeping in his bed, a tangle of limbs, both covered in bite marks the same as you. “You do not wish to sleep?”

“Not yet,” you said, standing before him.

He offered you as sympathetic a look as he was capable of and stood, placing a hand on the back of your neck as he steered you to his personal spa room.

The door slid open to reveal the steamy bath, always prepared and heated so that it may be used at any hour. There were no Harkonnen slaves lingering near the walls, leaving the two of you alone together for the first time that day. While Issa and Yarina slept peacefully, you slipped into the oily black pool, aided by Feyd, who joined you not long after.

He sat against the wall and pulled you into his lap, sighing and closing his eyes as he relaxed. “Something troubles you.”

You turned, resting your cheek on his chest as you gazed up at him. “I have been…curious about something you said this evening.”

He cracked an eye open to look at you. “Tell me.”

“Do you desire an heir?”

“I must secure my legacy,” he answered simply.

“Then why have you not yet?”

Both eyes were open now as you looked at you. “What do you mean, pet?”

“If you want an heir, why do you not have one?” You asked.

“They cannot conceive.”

His words were plain, and yet they struck you.

“Issa and Yarina?”

He nodded once. “Many of those on Giedi Prime are not fertile. They are no exception.”

“Oh…”

“Do not pity them. They have little interest in the entire ordeal.”

“Then how does House Harkonnen reproduce, if fertility is such a problem?”

“Treatments,” he shrugged slightly. “Many infants are too weak to live. We do not have large families. Only the strongest can survive on this planet.”

“Like you?”

“Yes.” He said smugly. “And my heirs.”

“So you do want them.”

“Will you give them to me?”

You pushed back against his chest to stare at him. “Me?”

“Yes.” He said as if it were obvious. “Who else?”

“A wife, perhaps?”

“I do not want one.”

“What if you must marry for politics?”

“Then she will be a lonely wife. You three are all I want.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and pulled you back against his chest. “You will give me an heir. In time.

“Yes, Feyd,” you sighed, pleased with your new distinction amongst your companions. “I will.”

“You know I care for you.”

“Yes.”

“I would kill for you.”

“I have seen you do it.”

“Not only for fresh food,” he said. “For any reason. I would have killed your former owners. I wanted to.”

“I thought you said it was more complicated?” You teased.

“It is. But I would have done it.”

You smiled as you melted against him. “I know you would have, Feyd. And one day, perhaps I will kill for you.”

He smirked. “I have no doubt you will, darling. Now…relax with me.”

He leaned his head back once more and sighed, and you closed your eyes, content within the warmth of the oil and blood.

[navybrat817]

Focus

Pairing: Motocross!Steve Rogers x Motocross!Female Reader Summary: You have a crush on Steve Rogers, but you don't think you're his type. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Crush, longing, slight insecurities, swearing, nicknames, Curtis is a good friend, Motocross!Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Finally an intro for Champ and Daisy in our Dialed In AU! Took me how long, @yenzys-lucky-charm ? Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ❤️

A 450 rider like Bucky with a lot of wins under his belt, Natasha was serious when she said Steve was one of the best riders in his class.

It was one of the reasons people called him “Champ”, a nickname he wasn’t overly fond of since some of the guys liked to tease him after races where he didn’t place first. It also gave him flashbacks of when he was younger and smaller, virtually ignored or told he wouldn’t excel in anything physically.

With a lot of heart and a late growth spurt, he proved them wrong.

Bucky said once that his nickname should be “Adonis” because of his now statuesque looks and the pit lizards fawning over him or “Golden Boy” because of his success and admiration.

Steve never let any of that get to his head and refused to let the pit lizards distract him. He worked hard to get where he was and continued to give it his all on and off the track every single time.

His determination was one of the many reasons you found yourself drawn to him. He was the kind of rider and person many aspired to be.

Your crush only grew the day you two actually met.

A rider yourself, you earned the nickname “Daisy” thanks to the flowers on your helmet and general sweet demeanor.

The helmet was the very thing Steve complimented you on when he walked by you at your first pro race.

You hadn’t meant to stare when he walked by, but his reputation preceeds him. Clad in red, white, and blue like a patriotic God, his blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight and his eyes looked like the sky on a cloudless day.

The sheer size of him almost made you whimper when he got closer. How a man was able to walk with such confidence and dominance yet still had an air about that said he was humble was a gift.

He even stopped to speak to a few kids who were eager to meet him and you couldn’t stop smiling when one little boy wrapped his arms around his legs in a tight hug.

Who wouldn’t fall for him?

You were certain you still had a dopey smile on your face when he looked your way.

“Beautiful.” The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down your spine when you realized he was speaking to you, which you tried to blame on pre-race jitters. “Your helmet. It’s beautiful,” he said when you didn’t reply.

You deflated slightly because of course he didn’t think you were beautiful. You were just a rider and not like the girls who flocked to him.

“Oh, thanks,” you croaked, clearing your throat immediately to try and save face. “I like daisies,” you added, mentally kicking yourself for stating the obvious. Why else would they be on your helmet?

The lopsided grin he gave you brought your smile back to your face. “You’re Daisy. Heard good things about you.”

Biting your lip and glancing away briefly, you didn’t catch his gaze following the movement. “You have?” You asked, slightly surprised that your name made the rounds.

“Yeah.” He nodded toward the track. “And I’m eager to see what you do out there.”

Your stomach did a somersault, but you held your head high. “I’ll try not to disappoint.”

“I doubt you could disappoint anyone,” he quietly spoke, looking over his shoulder when Bucky called out to him. “Gotta go. Good luck out there, Daisy.”

“Thanks, Champ,” you said, shifting back and forth on your feet when he stood up straight and flexed his gloved fingers. Maybe you shouldn’t have used his nickname. “I mean, Steve.”

You couldn’t read his expression, but you felt better when he gave you one more lopsided smile. “Champ sounds nice coming from you,” he said before he walked away.

You tried not to swoon or check out his ass when he went on his way, but Curtis clocked you immediately.

“You might wanna wipe that drool off your chin before your race,” he said, nudging you with his shoulder when you glanced at the ground. “Nervous? Don't be. You’re gonna kick ass out there.”

“Not nervous,” you said, biting your lip again. “He said he heard about me.”

“Yeah. Riders talk, you know that. And the guys saw you practice, so they know you have skills,” he said, sighing when you lifted your head and longingly stared after Steve. “Look, don’t let him distract you.”

“I’m not letting him distract me,” you argued, moving your helmet between your hands. “It’s just nice to get a compliment from such a skilled rider,” you said, especially since a lot of guys had a tendency to ignore you once they knew you loved to race.

Curtis narrowed his eyes. “I’m a skilled rider and I compliment you. I don’t see you walking around with hearts in your eyes and having a little crush on me.”

Your cheeks flamed before you hit his arm. “More like you bust my nonexistent balls. That’s not the same thing,” you said.

He didn’t move an inch when you hit him, the wall of muscle that he was. “Perk of being my friend,” he deadpanned, looking in the direction that Steve went, too. “I’m not one for gossip, but Champ is single.”

You put your helmet on so your friend couldn’t see your face. “Good to know, but I doubt I’m his type,” you said.

Because why would he like you?

“Rogers is a fucking idiot if he doesn’t want a girl like you,” he said sincerely before he hit your helmet with the palm of his hand, the familiar grumpy stare back on his face. “But enough of that shit. Get out there and win your fucking race.”

Which you did.

Steve's heart skipped a beat when you removed your helmet and smiled.

Because the truth was, you were exactly his type.

And he’d sweep you off your feet if you let him.

They're sweet, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[aventurineswife]

👀 Sunday with Kiana-like!Reader, tackling the roots of various problems instead of building of walls and cages and sweet dreams coughslikeSundaycoughs and doing everything they can to help and protect people from memetic monsters and other otherworldly threats while also running themselves so far into the ground they occasionally get sick or injured or both.

Think of the angst potential.

Between Waking and Dreaming

Summary: As the Charmony Festival unfolds, Sunday confronts you after yet another exhausting battle against otherworldly threats. Despite your relentless drive to help and protect others, often at the cost of your own health, Sunday encourages you to prioritize your well-being. Through his support and understanding, the two of you begin to bridge the gap between his vision of a painless dream and your determination to tackle problems head-on.

Tags: Sunday x Reader, Kiana Kaslana based Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Support, Opposites Attract, Self-Sacrifice, Angst with a Happy Ending, Tender Moments, Mutual Growth, Slow-Burn Potential.

Warnings: Mentions of self-sacrificial behavior and overexertion, Mild descriptions of physical and emotional exhaustion.

A/N: I like your thinking, anon🫣👀 (this may be ooc since idk much about HI3)

The sky was darkening as the city of Oak's heart, bustling with the Charmony Festival's lively spirit, began to quiet. The sounds of laughter and music still filled the air, but something in the breeze felt different, a hint of tension lingering between the edges of the revelry.

Sunday stood in the grand hall of the Oak Family estate, surveying the aftermath of a particularly taxing day. The festival was only a glimpse of what he strived for—the Sweetdream Paradise—a realm where everyone could escape pain, a dream of peace that seemed so far from reach.

But then there was you.

You, a beacon of light amid all the shadows.

You were his opposite in so many ways. While Sunday envisioned a painless world, an eternal dream that might shield people from their suffering, you rejected that ideal. You weren’t about building walls, much less cages, around people’s hearts. Instead, you believed in confronting problems, tackling the very roots of what ailed the world, no matter how impossible it seemed. You fought the memetic monsters and the otherworldly threats head-on, with all your heart and spirit.

And, much to Sunday’s dismay, you pushed yourself to the brink every single time. You didn’t stop, didn’t take a break, and refused to let anyone shoulder the burden of protecting the world alone, even if it meant running yourself into the ground.

But Sunday saw the toll it took. He always did. The days when your energy was completely drained, when your eyes were clouded by exhaustion or worse, illness. The way you fought through your own pain, convinced that you could bear it all if it meant no one else had to.

“[Name],” Sunday said, voice gentle but firm as he stepped closer to where you were sitting, wiping away the sweat from your brow. Your hand was still clutching your side, your breath shallow from the battle you’d just fought.

“You shouldn’t be pushing yourself like this.” His eyes softened as he crouched beside you, his angelic halo shimmering above his head. The wings at his ears glinted in the dim light, but they seemed almost dull compared to the brightness of his concern for you.

“I’m fine,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper. Your head rested against the wall, a deep, lingering weariness overtaking you. “We still have to take care of the memetic distortion. I’m... I'm okay.”

Sunday’s fingers brushed your hair back, a quiet act of tenderness. He knew you were anything but okay. The way you’d been pushing yourself had drained you, and it was starting to show in every sharp breath you took, in the way your body trembled slightly. The only thing that seemed to give you comfort was the thought of protecting others, yet you were blind to how much you were hurting yourself in the process.

“You’re not okay, [Name],” he murmured, his voice dipping into something softer, something that betrayed the stern leader he often portrayed. His eyes flickered with a hint of frustration, but it was frustration aimed not at you, but at the world that had shaped you into someone who believed sacrificing your well-being was the only way to protect those around you. “Why can’t you just rest? You’re no good to anyone like this.”

You tried to smile, but it was a weak thing, slipping away just as quickly as it had come. “Because if I don’t, who will protect them?”

Sunday sighed, kneeling down until his face was level with yours. His wavy(?) hair framed his face, the piercing angel wings catching the light. His gaze softened, but there was something in it—something resolute, yet filled with concern. “You’re so much like me. Always thinking of others before yourself. But you’re wrong. You’re burning yourself out, and you won’t be able to protect anyone if you’re broken.”

“You don’t understand,” you muttered, shaking your head, the weight of your thoughts pressing down. “This world isn’t a sweet dream. There’s so much pain. If I don’t keep fighting, I don’t know what will happen. I can’t let people suffer.”

Sunday looked at you for a long moment, studying your expression as you battled your inner turmoil. There was something in his eyes—a reflection of his own personal struggle. The very thing that haunted him: the idea that people couldn’t escape their suffering, not by his design, not by anyone’s.

“You’re right,” he admitted, his voice lower, softer than you’d heard it before. “This world isn’t a sweet dream. It’s a waking nightmare for many. And maybe it always will be.”

You looked up at him, surprised by the rare admission. Sunday, the stoic leader, the one who wished for an escape from all the pain, was agreeing with you?

“But,” he continued, “I’m starting to realize something. I’ve spent so much time building a paradise for people to escape pain. But you—you don’t run away from it. You face it head-on. You try to help, even when it feels impossible. And that… that is what makes you stronger.”

You blinked, feeling a strange warmth spread through your chest. For all the times Sunday had pushed his ideals on you, for all the times he’d insisted on the Sweetdream Paradise, here he was, acknowledging your own way of doing things. He was seeing you—not as someone who needed to fit into his dream, but as someone with a purpose of their own.

“I can’t fix the world alone,” you said, your voice quiet but filled with resolve. “I just… I can’t let people suffer. Not while I’m here. Not while there’s something I can do about it.”

Sunday reached out, his gloved hand gently cupping your cheek. His eyes held a quiet intensity, but now there was something softer—something that had always been there beneath the surface. “I understand. But you have to learn to take care of yourself too. You can’t save everyone if you’re the one who’s broken.”

You hesitated, then nodded, finally allowing yourself to lean into his touch, the exhaustion and pain too much to hold back any longer. “I’ll try,” you whispered, though doubt lingered in your voice.

Sunday smiled, the soft, warm smile that you hadn’t seen much of lately. The one that said, “I’m here with you.”

“I’ll help you. We’ll figure it out together.”

For the first time in what felt like ages, you allowed yourself to breathe. The weight of the world hadn’t lifted, but Sunday’s presence beside you, his quiet promise to help carry the burden, made it feel like maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for a different way.

And in that moment, you felt a spark of hope—a hope that, even in a world full of pain, you didn’t have to carry the weight alone.

[quitesins]

Pro Hero!Bakugou x Criminal!Reader 2

Masterlist | Part One

Tags: Sfw, Drabble?, Pro Hero!Bakugou, Criminal!Reader, Female!reader, Reader has short hair, reader’s hair can be carded through, Mentions of dried blood [in hair], this is kinda gross 😭

Another scenario in the same universe as this drabble, not chronologically linked but better to read the first one, since I forwent adding the contextualising details on this one…

“Can I take these?”

You’re in his office, twirling around some scissors he’s told you multiple times to put down already.

“So you can go out and gut someone in the street? Piss off.” Dynamight takes the scissors from you himself, setting them back on his desk like you won’t just grab it again.

“No.” You of course do reach out for the scissors. You’re hesitant to say why, the words coming out in murmur. “…wanna cut my hair.”

“What?” Dynamight prods.

You repeat yourself, sinking further into your clothes.

Dynamight stills where he’d been typing away, his head turns to give you a look over. He’d seen you so often in the past months, the growth of your hair snuck up on him too. But it is distinctly longer. Enough so that it pushes out your hoodie and curls around your cheeks. He could probably tuck it behind your ears if he wanted.

“It grew.” Dynamight says plainly.

“Yeah no shit.” You snatch the scissors quickly. Dynamight notes how visceral your reaction is. “So can I take them?”

“You just gonna hack at it?” His eyes don’t leave how tightly you hold onto the scissors, like it means something more than just a tool to get the hair out your face.

“Yeah, so?”

Dynamight presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek in thought. He sighs, having already made his decision.

“Sit down.” Up from his seat he ushers you to the one across his desk. You don’t listen, confused and wary. “I ain’t gonna get you, sit.”

You take seat, disliking that he now stands behind you. Your fingers are still harsh around the scissors so when he reaches out, he has to practically pry them before you remember to let go.

“Take your hood off.”

You turn and give him a scowl, but pull the hood down anyways. Your hair feels a mess and you’re scared it’s matted in the places you’ve let it grow too long. You wonder if Dynamight thinks you’re disgusting for it.

“Gonna touch your hair, aight?” Dynamight doesn’t sound anymore pissed than he normally does, the familiar gruffness comforting.

When his hands touch your hair, you sense it instantly. It’s uncomfortable and vulnerable and you feel stupid for even sitting down. Still, you let him inspect it, trying your best to show no weakness.

“You’ve got blood in it.”

“What?” You flip round too fast, before he can let go, so it tugs when you turn. You frown.

“Dumbass.” He snorts, showing you the dried blood that scratched off onto his fingers. “The fuck do you have blood in your hair for.”

Dynamight watches as your eyes shift in thought and worry.

“It’s not yours.” If it was, he’d drag you to the infirmary himself. Dynamight might not like you, but he is still a hero.

“I’m not sure.” You really aren’t. It could be anyone’s at this point. You just want it off. “Cut it.”

Dynamight scoffs and pushes the scissors so it slides further down his desk. You’ll have to get up if you want it. “Just wash it out. M’not ruining your hair over a little blood.”

“Stop touching it!” It’s a childish shriek when he pulls more from your hair. “It’s gross!”

“It’s in your hair.” Dynamight continues to comb it out, letting it fall to his office floor. You’ve seen him covered in blood and grime, soaked in it, but for some reason you feel embarrassed to let him touch the dirt form you. “Fucking nasty.”

You try to pull away but his large hand is on your shoulder. There’s something terrifying about how easily he keeps you in place.

It mildly hurts when Dynamight tugs at your hair, untangling the knots that you can hear come apart. You can tell he’s being gentle though, which makes you worry a little more.

It takes a few minutes for his fingers to be able to card through your hair. Not fully as you hiss when the smaller knots get caught, but his hands no longer pull your entire head when they move.

Dynamight lets out a contented hum, a weird sound that feels quietly smug, and pulls away to reach for some wipes on his desk. He throws you one and when it lands on your face he doesn’t hide his amusement.

“It’s a shower.” With his hands occupied, he uses his chin to nod to the second door in his office. “Get that shit out your hair.” He’s already walking over to the cupboard where he keeps his towels, not giving you chance to disagree. “I’ll cut it for you.”

It takes a second for your brain to catch up, you’re curious when you look up at him. “You know how to cut hair?” You look over his own. Through all his chaotic blonde spikes, it does somehow look uniform.

“Let someone else touch my shit? Fuck no.” Dynamight huffs like it’s something obvious and throws you the towel. He points to the bathroom door a final time. “Now, go.”

———

When you leave through the fire escape, dropping down to the shaded street below, your hair is much shorter, almost buzzed. It’s cold. But this time the biting air of winter feels like a blessing on your skin.

Was this mildly inspired by the fact I got a tiny bit of nail polish in my hair and it was a fucking chore to get out? No, of course not.

[sukified]

— his favorite ho.

❀ katsuki b. x fem!reader

❀ outline. teeny tiny drabble because i saw a car sex twt vid and it made me miss kats

❀ w. 18+ content, dirty talk, very light assplay, katsuki has anger issues, riding, car sex

❀ do not repost thx

katsuki has had a long fuckin’ day.

higher ups yapping in his ear and telling him that his poor attitude towards civilians has become a daily topic and he’s had enough. everyone who knew of the pro knew that his temper was short, that he wasn’t saving people to be friendly. no, he was doing his job, keeping japan safe and sound under his supervision without fake flowery bullshit.

not only that, his anger management classes have been kicking his ass. it was a requirement as soon as they threw katsuki on the front lines— he needed to attend regular sessions. it was believed that going to talk about his feelings, forced out of his protective shell of aggression and anger, would improve his performance.

whatever the hell that meant.

you know full and well how katsuki has been feeling about his current predicament. he brought it up all the time over whatever fancy dinner he treated you to, complaining about responsibility and growth and the likes. the man simply needed emotional guidance, he needed to learn healthier ways to deal with his feelings and mental hurdles because they were strong. everything about him was so very strong.

though, when he didn’t feel like running an irritated hand through his mop of thick ash hair while he spewed profanities about his braindead therapist or his dick-sucking bosses, he’d keep you stuffed.

it was a particularly taxing day on his end, seeing as though spring tends to bring out the evil motives and the villains. popping off explosions and knocking wrongdoers the fuck out could only go so far for his stress, for his mental constipation.

no, today he needed more. he needed to shut his brain up, needed to direct the anger and resentment and frustration elsewhere. what better way to deal with his problems than take it out on his pretty baby?

“been forever since i’ve given you good dick, hah?” katsuki hisses as his head lolls back lazily, thunking against the sleek leather of his backseat, rough hand planted limply on the curve of your waist. you look godsend hovering over him, your shoulders flexing as you grip on his thick thighs, trembling like a goddamn leaf as you fight to keep yourself up.

he’s got you riding him because he’d be damned if he put any extra effort into the shitty day. today was your day to take control, a rare one because he couldn’t be bothered. katsuki had called you up as soon as his patrol ended, voice void of emotion in fear that he’d end up snapping at you for any minuscule reason. after all, you hadn’t done anything wrong to deserve his berating.

your pussy cries and sobs as you bounce on his cock sensually, the strain making your mind fog up and blank on your train of thought. it was almost a routine for the pro to use your body for a nice shutdown, you felt it was the best way to thank him as a citizen. he sought you out on his worst days and you never failed to follow through, something he fucking adores about you.

his jaw is slack, blonde stubble decorating his skin, tongue slithering out to lick at his lips. you were so damn wet and tight around him, it was just enough to help him block out the spiel he had received earlier in the day about working on his rescue skills. nah, he didn’t need to change himself for the sake of others, you seemed to like him just as he was.

“shit, you’re filth. jus’ a filthy girl,” the sound of his voice, mumbled and distant, makes your cunt throb. your walls suction him tight, coating him in a glossy mess of your pussy drool. he swears he could die happy right here and his mind is nearly blank as he slips a thumb in your ass, huffing out a quiet chuckle at the way your back arches immediately.

no matter how nasty his attitude can be, you come back for more. you always do.

[l1tw1ck]

Clingy

bottom!afab!sub John Doe x top!masc!dom Reader

☆ Word Count: 958 ☆

↳ [REQUEST] | AFAB Language Used

CW: Yandere, Face Fucking, Sir Kink, Riding, Nipple Sucking, Orgasm Delay, Squirting, Creampie

You can't go a day without John Doe by your side or at a distance. Everywhere you go, they follow. No matter where. It was starting to get annoying. They even kill people for you, all those close to you are gone and all you’re left with is John.

John clings onto your arm as you walk home, their signature grin on their face. “Can we do it today?” He asks, rubbing his head on your arm.

You sigh. “Sure.” You reply, stepping into your house. You don't have much patience to deal with them today so at least they'll do something worth your while. Having sex is one of the few instances in which you're not annoyed with his presence.

You plop down onto the couch and John scurries over to slot himself in between your open legs, wasting no time getting your length out of its confines. They tuck their hair behind their ears before darting their tongue out and licking the tip of your cock. John drags their long tongue along your shaft, wrapping the unnatural appendage around it and getting you hard. You groan in pleasure as his warm mouth swallows your cock, his tongue still wrapped around your length as he sucks you off. He looks into your eyes as he does so, a red blush strewn across his cheeks.

You grip his hair and force him to move faster, his previous pace too slow for you. John moans as you fuck his face, happily letting you take over. He doesn't gag or drag his teeth along your shaft, one of the few things you love about him. He makes for a good cock sleeve. He reaches down into his pants to touch himself, jerking off his bottom growth as you make a mess of him. You make him deep throat you while letting out sounds of pleasure as he takes your cock without issue. John speeds up his hand movements, loving the noises you make. It tells him that he’s making you feel this good, that his mouth is bringing you this much pleasure.

“You’re better off as my cock sleeve.” You roll your head back. John blushes even harder, eyes rolling back as he orgasms. His moans vibrate along your shaft, bringing you closer to your peak. You pick up the pace, aggressively fucking his mouth before slowing down and dumping your load down his throat.

You pull John off of you, a cute expression on his face that almost makes you forget why he annoys you so much.

“Mo- more..?” He looks at you sweetly.

“If you stop following me around and killing off every person I talk to, I’ll give you more.”

If they stop, will you keep giving them what they want? Just the idea of it makes them excited. “Okay!” They grin.

You stand up and force them to lay on the floor stomach first. John raises their ass high and looks back at you with an intense and excited expression. You unzip their jeans and tug them down, not surprised to see how damp his underwear is. After taking off his boxers, you align your length with his hole and shove yourself inside their warm and welcoming pussy. John bites their lip, eyes rolling back as you fuck into him roughly.

“Yes!” John moans like a shameless slut. “Harder!”

“You don't get to make orders, whore.” You spank their ass.

They moan in response. “Sorry, sir~!”

You grip John’s waist tightly, fucking him even harder. You use your other hand to grab his hair and pull him back. His mouth hangs open, more moans falling out of him. “If you're good, I’ll come inside.”

They shiver. “I- I’ll be guh- good, sir~! So good~!”

“Yeah? You won't come before me, right?”

“I pro- promise!” They nod rapidly. They always come first but now that they're presented with a reward, they’ll try harder to hold back.

“That's a good demon.” You flip them onto their back and push up their shirt. You grope his breast, your mouth occupying the other, and start fucking him at the same pace. John rolls their head back, literally drooling as you stimulate all but one of their pleasure points. They're not sure if they can keep their promise anymore.

“Wa- wait-” They feel their orgasm quickly approaching. “I wah- wanna ride you, sir!”

You stop completely. “..Okay.” You pick him up and sit down on the couch with him still on your cock. John pulls their shirt off completely and starts riding you, moving slowly and sensually. You grope his chest, returning to once again give them the love they deserve. John moans softly as you suck on their nipple.

“Does it feel good?” They ask, gyrating their hips.

You pull away for a moment. “Yeah, move a little faster.”

They pick up the pace, rising up before forcefully slamming down onto your cock. Your moans are muffled by his breast but he can tell you like it. “Are you gonna come, sir?”

You take your mouth away from his chest and nod. You lean back, reaching your peak. John stares at you intensely, focused on how attractive they think you look when you orgasm. A grin grows on their face as soon as they feel your cum flooding their insides. They slow their movements to a halt and wait for your instructions. You rub their clit in circles, causing them to subconsciously roll their hips. You don't mind the slightly overwhelming sensation and help him get to his peak. John holds onto your shoulders and throws his head back, squirting.

“You’ll be good from now on, right? No more killing or stalking.”

“I promise.” John nods, looking at you hazily.

[damnhotmsimmons]

Pros and Cons of Criminal Minds: Evolution

Pros:

characters get to swear

grey haired Emily Prentiss

JJ in short sleeves and casual wear

Tara having a girlfriend with Rebecca

Emily and JJ getting high

Elias being both a hateable and entertaining villain

Cons:

is literally dark, like the lack of lighting is noticeable

Tyler Green existing and wasting time trying to be relevant

Rossi losing his wife Krystall and getting another love interest in the form of Gideon's ex wife

Luke being an extra for like half the episodes

the team making reckless and poor decisions when dealing with Elias

Elias overstaying his welcome moreso than Cat and Scratch

Garcia being reduced to a love sick puppy over Tyler and losing her character growth from s1-15

the excessive amounts of grays and brown in everyone's wardrobe

Garcia wearing less colors than in s1-15

the white men taking up most of the screentime, moreso than Hotch and Reid

[aluminumneedles]

The Great Knitted Christmas Gifts Bonanza of 2024

(Working title)

Besties and beloved mutuals, welcome to the chaos.

This will be wacky. Zany. Incredibly boring at times and possibly excessively dramatic for no reason at all except my (and hopefully your) amusement. We will laugh! I will cry! We will perhaps commiserate over things and also I will aggravate my carpal tunnel! I will ask for advice on things I don't know how to do! I will make polls because audience participation is enrichment for me! Good shit good shit let's get started

At the time of writing it is September 18, 2024, also known as 98 days before Christmas Eve, which will heretofore be known as The Deadline™️. I have, at present, four family members for whom I am making gifts. Now you may be thinking "Kay, that's only four people. That does not warrant a big post." But I'm making one anyway so here we goooo

PERSON #1

Mom. I already decided on my mom's gift, she's getting a shawl. It's my first shawl and I'm kinda geeked about it. It's the Cosmos Textured Knit Wrap from Mama in a Stitch

(photo taken from Mama in a Stitch's website I hope that's ok??)

Yarn is Red Heart worsted weight acrylic in Royal. Now here's the situation: I haven't made a wearable with acrylic yarn in awhile and I wasn't a huge fan of how it felt last time. But I know people do it literally every day, so: when the time comes I will be soliciting advice on how to make it soft and comfy. Plus I hate blocking and I'm gonna have to block this so yay growth!!

PERSON #2

My sister. Adorable, likes a pastel, super long hair, so I was thinking...scrunchies? And then I was thinking scrunchies are not necessarily on the level of gift I was aiming for so I thought...scrunchies + matching leg warmers (babydoll goes to the gym sometimes so i thought it would be cute)? And then. AND THEN. Was scrolling Pinterest instead of sleeping and I found these!!!

Now there are pros and cons

Pros:

I have been wanting to knit lace

I have been wanting to knit socks

Cons:

I have no experience knitting lace or socks

Oh well f*ck it we ball! Will still try to match the scrunchies to the socks. Send thoughts/prayers/advice/yarn recs, because idk what I am doingggg

PERSON #3

My brother. So, at the first of the year I started knitting a blanket kind of just because--I really liked the pattern and I wanted the feeling of starting something new in the new year. In April I decided it would be a gift for my boyfriend at the time, in May it became too hot to knit with wool, and in July the relationship ended. My brother has expressed interest in a blanket from the same pattern and has offered to take this one off my hands. I'm about 3/4 of the way done. Should be an easy gift, right? Maybe I'll throw in a matching pillow?

However, I once promised to make him this sweater:

(image snagged from the MomentsinTwine Etsy shop)

I bought the pattern, I bought the yarn, and I never delivered. (I started it and frogged it twice because my gauge was so so off.)

So uhhh PLEASE do the poll I need help deciding. Yarn would probably be a golden yellow wool blend, because that is the color he wanted 3 years ago and if I ask for an updated color choice he'll know what I'm working on 😭

PERSON #4

My dad.

Y'all.

I have no idea what to do for this man. He is a very classic "I don't want anything" person, and I am a classic "Must. Give. Gift." person. So already, times are tough!! What am I supposed to knit this man???

So I was thinking slippers-- I found a pattern for Woodland Loafers on Ravelry (pattern by Claire Slade) and I thought they were adorable. But then I was thinking why not make a whole, like, cozy care package? So I thought slippers, mug rug + mug cozy, maybe something else? He likes music, he likes to relax and watch his lil shows, he likes M*rvel?? Open to so many suggestions babes.

So...yeah. That's the show. I'll update as I go along, and if you're ever curious about how things are going or want to bully me about not making progress, please nudge me!! Sorry this was so long okay bye

[misserabella]

a deal with the devil

demon ellie williams x fem! reader

synopsis;; You had a dream, for your band to reach the stars. And you were capable of anything if that meant you'll make it.

Anything. Even make a pact with the devil.

cw; 18+content! satanic ritual, blood, wounds (made with a knife), sub! and virgin! reader, dom!ellie, possessiveness, oral sex (r receiving), scissoring, hair pulling, own-ship kink! (kinda), multiple orgasms (r), overstimulation, nudity (obvs), blood kink! (kinda), drugs (weed, not smoking though), teasing, cum swallowing,... MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I'LL HUNT YOU DOWN!

“Okay… Done.” you sighed, staring at the summoning circle you had drawn on the floor of your living room. “Thank god this shit comes with instructions.” you mumbled, cracking your back since you had been crouching down for the last 20 minutes scribbling with the worn white chalk in between your fingers. You were pleased, the lighted candles surrounding the summoning circle made it even better.

You then took the old grimoire, the pages almost falling apart on your fingers as you passed the pages.

“Fuck. I should have really paid attention to latin classes.” you whispered as you played cart wheel with the book, trying to see the right side to read it. Was this even latin? You couldn’t really know.

After finding out the right side, you laid the grimoire on the nearest table, where you could read, before taking the knife you had brought from the kitchen.

“Invoco te, diabole, tenebras, peccatum pro i manu tua, sanguine tuo et viribus tuis…” you started mumbling, trying your best to pronounce the spell as best as you could. “peccatum tuum, tenebrae tuae, pars animae tuae opus est…” the sudden turn off of the lights above your head startled you. That and the unimportant and completely normal growth of the flames of the candles, reaching the height of your knees. “Holy shit!” your heart was beating harshly against your ribs.

Breathe.

You reminded yourself. You could do this. You had to do this.

“Okay… Now for the finale.” you mumbled, pressing the knife to your palm and closing it over the weapon, with a quick movement slicing your flesh, crimson pooling at your feet on little droplets as you hissed in pain. “Age, precor, oro, sequere vocem, ingrediar ad terras, nam te sanguine dicam!” you finished as you let your blood fall into the protection circle, staining the chalk.

Due to a quick flash of the candles —which died and came back to life in a blink—, you stumbled backwards, falling onto the floor and grunting when you had to put all your weight on your good hand to not hurt your left more.

Your eyes adapted to the darkness and now dimmed lights —since the intensity of flames had blinded you—, skin growing in goosebumps when you felt someone or something lurking in the dark.

Your eyes widened when you met a pair of crimson ones that stared at you in fun.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty one?” you gulped at what stood before you.

A devil. With the most beautiful and haunting face and black leather intimidating wings at her back.

Sin in flesh.

“Oh god!” you breathed out as your cheeks turned red, eyes darting somewhere else as you wounded hand stood in between your sight and her body.

She was completely and absolutely naked. Soft skin on dispose for you to see.

This wasn’t what you were expecting at all… You expected blood, darkness, someone covered too…

Not this. Not her.

“Try again.” she chuckled, but then cooed when you would still shy away from her. “Aw, no need to be shy now…” a choked scream left your lips when, after a slight wave of her hand, an invisible force tugged from you up and close to the protection circle. You shivered when her hand took yours in a soft and icing grip. “It was you who offered yourself to me after all…”

This shouldn’t be happening. The protection circle was supposed to safely maintain the summoned demon inside, unable to scape nor ‘cause any type of harm to the caller. She shouldn’t have been able to pull you towards her, nor take your hand by reaching outside it.

So…

“Who are you?” you inquired, shock and fear on your voice as you stared into her eyes.

“I’ve been a lot of things…” she answered, gently examining the deep and dripping cut in your palm on her own. Your eyes hardly tried to not wonder from her face, although something deep inside of you whispered in you ear, tempted you to stare at her naked body. “From the favorite one: An angel… To the fallen one: A devil.” she muttered.

“What’s… What’s your name?” your breathing was stuck in your lungs, voice strained.

She smiled, staring back at you. She and you knew that, by knowing a demon’s name, you’d have power over them, be able to control it somehow.

Although that didn’t matter.

“Satan. Although I go by a lot of names now. Ellie is one of my favorites.”

Your breath hitched, your whole body tensing under her touch, as if it hurt.

Satan? He you been able to summon the ruler of hell? Wasn’t that almost impossible? You were expecting a smaller demon, one with which you could make a deal. Not the sin herself.

She could feel you try and pull away, but she didn’t let you, her fingers lacing around your palm, being careful with the cut.

“You scared?” she whispered, taking a step outside the circle, her free hand running up through your chest and resting on your shoulder. She could feel your quickened heartbeat.

But even though you felt every single bone inside his body shake, from your lips fell a quick:

“No.”

That only made her smirk grow. “Well, aren’t you stupid…” she cooed, and you shivered. “All the cute ones are always stupid.” she muttered.

You gulped when her sharp nails trailed up your neck, taking her time over your pulse point.

“What is it that you want, hm?” her voice was pure silk for your ears, like the sweetest nectar, trying to lure you in. “There must be something you must want to be messing with the devil.” she stepped closer. “What is it? Power? Love?” you looked into her eyes and you swore she could see your soul. She probably could. “Fame…” she chuckled. “Of course a pretty girl like you would want fame…” her thumb made its way to your bottom lip, which she slightly tugged. “Drive all the boys crazy. And the girls.” you trembled when she pushed her naked chest against yours. You could feel her perked nipples pushing against through your tee shirt. “Isn’t that right?” she mumbled against your lips. “I can give it to you. I can give you anything you want.” your eyes were focused on her lips.

You were no fool though, and she could see it in your eyes when you asked. “What do you want in return ?” As well as she could see that you would give anything.

“I want you.” she simply said, and although there was no change in her voice, no feeling of any kind, you shivered under her touch. “So… What do you say?” the hand that took your hurt one, raised it to her lips. You only could watch as her tongue darted out, a hiss leaving your own lips when she licked your cut, cleaning it of all blood. “You wanna play with me?”

And you couldn’t find himself to say no.

-

“I like what you’ve done with the room.” she nodded as she entered the bedroom, taking in every single detail. Some group posters, different guitars in corners and walls, full book collections, a full pile of tapes next to your walkman, a stash of weed… You smiled, picking a little bag in between your fingers. “You seem to know how to have fun.” she smirked when you quickly took it from her, pushing it inside your panty drawer and closing it.

“Could you… Could you maybe put on some clothes, please?” you said, watching her wander around your room, playing with trinkets here and there. She turned at your voice, eyebrows rose playfully.

“Why? Do I make you nervous, y/n?” you choked when she was back in front of you, painfully close. “Or maybe…, is something else?” you quickly captured her wrist when her hand trailed down your abdomen to the waistband of your pants. Your eyes were a mix of warning and that glint of fear that she so well knew by now. Although there was something more…

She stepped away, hands rising in a ‘peace’ offering, a smirk plastered on her lips.

“Alright…” she elongated the ‘i’, as if she were bored. “I’ll be good.” she said, but by the look in her face, she knew you didn’t exactly believe her. “Now. Are you gonna give me some of your human clothes or do you want to watch some more?” she teased you, one of her hands cupping her right breast. You didn’t even look, quickly turning away as she giggled at your back, getting back to her with a pair of your panties, one of your tee shirts and a pair of your sweats.

You then noticed: her wings.

“Oh, right.” she muttered, with a snap of her fingers making them disappear. “Is that better?” she questioned you, taking the clothes from your hands as you nodded and putting them on. “Huh.” she muttered, picking at the clothes. “Feels nice. Strange… But nice.”

“What. Have you never worn clothes?” you inquired.

And she only stood silent. Your cheeks flushing when she smirked.

She never needed them…

“You’re the first one ever to ask me to cover up.” human or not human. And from the place she came, no one really cared about clothes.

You coughed, clearing your throat.

“Okay, so… How does this work? I promise my soul to you and you instantly make me famous?” you changed subjects, crossing your arms over your chest. Feeling exposed. Her eyes fixated on how your tits popped.

“Sure. You can do that.” she shrugged, taking a seat on your bed, your shirt slightly rolling up to show her toned stomach. Your eyes quickly darted elsewhere. “Though all that ‘I sold my soul to the devil’ is mostly made up stories by the church. Whatever I ask for, depends on the person that summons me.”

“So… What is it that you want from me?” your eyebrows quirked, a strand of hair falling to frame your face.

“I already told you. I want you.” suddenly, the place where you had cut yourself —the same cut that had instantly closed after her tongue had made contact with it— burned.

With a quick movement of her hand, she pulled you closer to her and down by her side, hovering over you as one of your hands rested on your stomach. You jumped at her touch.

“I want you to be mine.” she smiled, and you shivered. “Did you think I wouldn’t know?” she pushed your chest against your as her hand trailed up and below your shirt, making you hiss when her fingertips caressed down your hips. “The way you keep avoiding to touch me, to look at me?” she smirked, her lips against your ear. Your breath hitched, unable to push her away, your whole body buzzing and burning up under her touch. She could smell the lust in you. “You though I wouldn’t notice that you’re a virgin?” a moan left your lips when her hand pushed down your pants, touching your pussy from over your panties. Your fingers curled around her wrist but didn’t make a move to pull her away, what only made her smirk grow.

“S—Shit…” you gasped, your head tilting backwards at her touch.

“I don’t think you really know how valuable your virginity is for a demon, do you?” you were now fully leaking below her palm. “We feed on it. Wrath, pride, jealousy, lust…” she whispered. “I want it. I want you.” your hips thrusted upwards in her hand, your mouth falling open. You were begging for more. She could feel it. “What do you think, pretty girl?” she left open mouth kisses down your neck, sucking and bruising the soft and tender flesh. “Do we have a deal?”

Your breath hitched when her thumb pressed against your clit. “Yes, yes…” you nodded as you swallowed more moans by biting your bottom lip, unable to talk due to the amount of pleasure your body was under. Her touch was wicked. Making your bones ache for more.

And if only you had your eyes opened, you would have seen the devilish smile on her face.

“Good.” you whined when her hand left your pants, your own tugging from her wrist for more. “Aw, don’t worry baby. I’ll take care of you once we seal the deal. Now, come here.” she tugged from your shirt, smashing her lips to yours in a wet kiss. Your mouth fell open in a moan, giving her the opportunity to slid her tongue inside your mouth and deepen the kiss. You hissed when you felt burning skin underneath the hand that she rested on your chest, pulling away so your eyes would meet with a new branded mark just below where your heart should be. It was strange, full of lines. Like a tattoo.

Her thumb brushed the rests of spit off your bottom lip.

“Now you are mine.”

-

“y/n! y/n! Please look here!”

“No, please here!”

“Please, tell us how does it feel to be the leader of one of the rising most famous bands in the whole world?!”

“y/n!!!”

“Oh my god, she is so hot!”

You couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe how in a matter of days after the pact, miraculously, a really important talent seeker had stumbled across one of your group’s gigs at the club and later on offered you and your band mates the golden ticket to fame. You had worked hard to release their first song, which quickly became a worldwide hit and catapulted you to the peak. You had been showered with a lot of support from the new fans and offered a contract for years in the best record label in the USA.

And there you were a couple of months later.

You were living the life. And even better, you were living it with you best friends: Dina and Jesse. They could not be happier, seeing themselves finally achieving their childhood dream.

“Thank you!” you screamed over the noise to a couple of fans that had gifted you roses and love letters. They were crying for your attention, what only made your heart jump. You were so grateful.

“y/n, please a couple of words!” one of the interviewers stopped you, the flash blinding your eyes a little bit.

You smiled at the camera.

“The thing is that I have no words!” you laughed, and the interviewer melted beside you. You were a real heartthrob. “Thank you so much to everyone that came tonight to see us! We love you, New York!” your smiled couldn’t get bigger, your cheeks hurting and eyes shining.

“y/n! Come on, we need to go!” Dina called out for you from the limousine, waving her hand. The security guard behind you tapped you slightly in the shoulder.

“I’m sorry I have to go now. But really, thank you so much!” you waved at the camera, quickly running later on into their car to get on the move to their hotel.

“Holy shit!” Jesse screamed when you were alone inside, and they all laughed.

“It was crazy out there.” Dina smiled, a bear plush in between her arms. Probably from the fans.

“We sold out for the next concert too!” Jesse pointed out and they shared a hand five.

They were like a couple of kids on Christmas morning.

You relaxed on your seat, a bright smile on your lips as you watched them enthusiastically talk about how good tonight’s concert had been and how many people had come.

Your whole body was fuzzing in adrenaline. Seeing your talent finally be loved and your hard work rewarded was the best feeling in the world.

But nothing would compare to the screams of the public as you screamed lyrics to the top of your lungs and burned your fingertips with the strings of your guitar on top of the scenery. It was like a fever dream.

“Night.” Jesse gave you a hug once you had safely returned to your hotel floor. Their room were separated though, each one further apart since the others had been already booked or were under maintenance. It didn’t really matter, you’d only be there for a night, and with security on your floor, nothing could go wrong.

“Nigh guys.” you smiled after giving Dina another hug, and unlocking your door. “See you tomorrow at seven.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me that, man. I’m exhausted.” Jesse groaned, exaggeratedly playing faint.

“Come on, drama king. Time to go to bed.” Dina said, tugging from him, nodding towards you one more time before they would enter their room.

You sighed as you closed the door behind you, turning on the lights and walking towards the desk to empty your pockets and get rid of your jacket, carefully leaving a side the gifts from your fans.

“Hard day today?” you jumped when a voice came from your back, startling you and making you turn around to face… Ellie.

“Fuck. You almost killed me- woah!” you screamed, your eyes quickly darting away when they came across her body on top of your bed.

She was on your back and almost naked, only a set of simple underwear keeping her from being fully exposed before you. You recognized it. She had probably found the clothes that you had bought for her and which you always carried around in your back for her return, you thought.

She smirked at his reaction.

You cleared your throat. “Mmh, yeah. Hard day. Very hard day.” you mumbled, trying not to stare too closely at her exposed skin, nor how hot she looked, or how her tits bounced when she sat and got up. You gulped when she walked towards you, only to drift away and get a hold on the roses.

“Cute.” she murmured, but still taking one of them from the bunch and starting to rip its petals apart.

“Weren’t you… Weren’t you supposed to be taking care of some things in hell?” you inquired. After you both had sealed the deal, she had disappeared, telling you that she’d be back soon. Although ‘soon’ seemed to be almost five months…

“Aw… Did you miss me?” she cooed, leaving the flower fall at your feet and walking towards you, her thumb and pointer finger taking your chin for you to face her since your eyes didn’t seem to leave her feet. “Still not looking at me? Even when I’m wearing what you bought for me? How mean…” she playfully pouted and that’s when you caught his attention. She melted a little bit when your puppy eyes found hers. There you were… She surrounded your neck with her arms, looking at you. “You look good. Fame suits you, saw your interview on the news. Looking all cute and pretty for your fans, hm?” you gulped. “I suppose our deal has been working well enough?”

You nodded. “Yeah…” you breathed out. Her being so close to you making your head feel all fuzzy, her voice as sweet as caramel to your ears. “It’s been amazing.” you almost moaned when her fingers dipped in your hair, softly scratching and pulling just the slightest.

“And I hope you’ve not forgotten who is it that you belong to, hm? Wouldn’t like any of those petty humans touching my girl…” you shivered in her arms when you pressed she chest against yours, one of her hands trailing down to push inside his tee shirt and press her palm just below the seam of your jeans, taunting, teasing…

“N—No…” you stuttered, a burning feeling spreading though your lower stomach as her lips trailed down the side of your neck. There was something about them that slowly but surely made you crazy.

“Good…” she hummed, leaning in closer ‘till there were only mere inches in between the two of you. “ ‘Cause I came for my payment.” she mumbled against your lips before crashing against them. You froze for a couple of seconds before melting into the kiss, Your hands griping her hips for support. You whined when she bit down on your bottom lip, making you open your mouth and pushing her tongue inside.

Your tongues swirled around each other, and she sucked on yours as she pushed you backwards and onto the bed. She looked at you for a minute, you looked so beautiful. With cheeks flushed and lips swollen and bitten… Gasping for air with half-lided eyes. She knew it was taking effect.

Your eyes widened when she got rid of her bra, her breasts fully exposed for you to see. You moaned, breath hitching when she crawled on top of you as she went back to kissing you.

You felt like burning up, her touch, her lips, her hips, her tits…Everything was driving you insane. You whined when she pulled away. You were feeling dizzy, drunk, high on her. Needy, and so horny your cunt was now fully leaking on your panties. You swore you would come if…

You let out a surprised and low moan when she pushed one of her thighs in between your lights, grinding against your pussy. She smirked.

“What is it, baby? Feeling good?” you shakily nodded, giving no resistance when she pulled from your dress up your head. “I bet you are…” a whine left your lips when she left wet open mouth kisses down your neck, leaving marks as she lowered yourself down your chest, her tongue licking over her mark branded on your skin and your exposed tits.

“Fuck.” you breathed out when she slowly lowered herself down your body, hands getting under your panties and pulling them down your legs. You were soaked, your tight hole twitching for something to fill you up.

Her mouth watered at the sight, her tongue sliding from your entrance to your clit as your hips jerked and one of your hands unconsciously laced on her hair. You whimpered when she sucked on it, hollowing her cheeks as she cleaned your folds of every remaining of your sweet slick.

“Oh, shit.” your head fell backwards when she started to eat you out like a starved woman. This couldn’t feel this good. It was impossible… She smirked when breathy whimpers started to leave your lips. You couldn’t understand. Why did you feel on fire. Had she done something to you? Had she cursed you? Why was it that you didn’t seem able to control yourself when she was around you? Maybe it was simply her. With her perfect body and wicked face. Maybe it was because she were a demon and you only a mere human. But you swore that you were in heaven with her lips latched to your cunt, with your her bouncing with every movement of her body, with her pretty emerald eyes looking up at you. “What have you done to me?” you breathed out, moaning as your hips started to thrust upwards against her mouth.

She knew how you were feeling. It was one of the effects of your bond, of her spit and her touch. Humans were not supposed to meddle about with devils, for they’d become obsessed, addicted.

“That’s right baby, moan for me. Let those fans waiting downstairs for you hear you. Let them hear who you belong to.” she teased you as she slowly pumped one of her fingers inside your tight and warm walls, making you scream.

“Fuck!” you moaned, loud enough for those next to your room to hear, probably the whole floor. “Fuck, Ellie.” you whimpered, her own pussy throbbing at your innocent and sweet reactions. She would brand your face when she pushed the second finger in on her brain if she could. How you moaned and shook when she curled her fingers and found your g spot.

You were gonna cum, fuck, you were gonna cum so fucking hard you would probably die.

She could feel it, feel it in the way your hands gripped her head and your hips started to fuck upwards, fucking her mouth. She let you, taking everything you would give her, using her tongue to drive you insane, her spit dribbling down her chin.

“Ellie!” you whined when her free hand took your hip to push you down on the mattress and keep you still.

“Don’t fucking move.” she groaned, going back to suck on your clit and making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Her dominance pushed you so hard to the edge that you started to mumble incoherent words. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” you moaned, his eyes shut tight, thighs shaking at the sides of her head. “I’m cumming, I’m-“ and then her mouth was being filled with your hot and sticky heavy cum, making her hum. You rutted your hips just the slightest, riding your high, which left you trembling in your spot and seeing white. Your hands let go of her head softly, her tongue lazily cleaning you up and making sure she’d swallowed everything up, groaning at the sight, her thumb dragging along your bottom lip, all red and swollen.

“Want a taste, baby?” you nodded, grunting in your mouth when you got up and straddled her lap, your tongue pushing in between her lips and inside to taste yourself on her mouth. Her hands gripped your hips when you started to grind yourself down on her lap, on her strong thigh. “Mmh, so greedy.” she smirked, hearing you whine when you pulled away. “You’re still so wet for me.” her panties were soaked at this point.

“Ellie, fuck, please…” you begged, her hips unconsciously bucking upwards against your warm core. She was already starting to leak.

“What’s the matter, pretty girl? Use your words for me, baby.” she encouraged when your voice came out as a mumble when you ground yourself harder against her.

“Fuck me, fuck me. Please…” she smirked, her eyes shining in a bloody red when you moaned against her mouth.

She rose up to let you fall once again against the sheets, pulling her panties to the side, letting her sticky and drenched folds show for your hungry and fucked out eyes. “You want this? Want my pussy baby? Want me to fuck the virgin out of you?” you whimpered, nodding your head as she got rid of them and manhandled your legs to make place for herself in between them. “Yeah?” her tongue wetted your bottom lip, making you shake and your breath hitch. “Are you gonna let me use this pretty pussy of yours, hm?” she whispered, one of her hands coming down in between your bodies to play with your flit, making you moan and hips buckle up once again, what made her smirk only grow more. “Gonna let me use you, doll?” you nodded in a haze, muttering pleads. You could not think of something you’d love more than feeling her in that moment. Her wetness, her warmth…

“Please…” your breath got stuck in your lungs when her cunt made contact with your, sliding against you in a moan, your open mouth inviting her tongue in a wet and messy kiss that had your head reeling.

You felt like dying.

“Oh shit. Fuckfuckfuck…” you muttered as dhe started to thrust her hips against you. Sticky wet sounds filing the room as she started to rub your clits together. Her lips latched to your neck, biting harshly when your head tilted backwards in a whimper.

If this was not heaven, you might as well love being in hell.

She could feel it, the way you were trying so hard not to cum, your thighs shaking like crazy.

“Are you gonna come for me baby?” she teased you, rocking herself against you. “Gonna cum against my pussy?”

“Ellie, stop please, i’m gonna-, fuck, i’m gonna cum if you don’t-“ she didn’t exactly care.

She continued moving although your soft and breathy voice filled the room, once begging for just a couple of seconds —since you felt mortified to be lasting so little even though you were a goddamn virgin— but now just moaning and whimpering without control with every thrust of her hips.

“Shit, fuck, Ellie, please, i’m gonna…” you couldn’t stop it, it all being too much. The feeling of her wet cunt against yours, the slick of both of you pooling and dripping down onto the covers, the wet sounds of skin against skin and the squelching of your juices… Her hands on your tits, her lips on your neck…

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me, let me have it.” you muttered, rolling her hips in a way that made you see stars as you gripped her hair with one hand and the covers with the other.

“I’m cumming, shit, i’m-“ you couldn’t even finish, since you were already spilling your hot and sticky cum against her, painting her in white. Both of you moaned in pleasure.

“Fuck pretty girl, yes baby, more.” she babbled out, her whole body buzzing with energy and libido striking up due to the sexual energy you were feeding her with. Her walls tightened as she watched you cum beneath her.

A moan ripped your throat when one of her hands came up to surround it and pin you down against the mattress, starting to thrust against your cunt this time harder, faster. “Ellie!” you were so sensitive due to your recent orgasm. The overstimulation making you throw your head back in pure ecstasy. It hurt, but it hurt so good that in just a mere seconds you could feel once again about to cum. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck…”

Your tits bounced with every new thrust, the cum in between your pussies making dirty sounds that you swore could be heard by everyone. It only turned you on even more.

She moaned out your name as she felt her own orgasm building up at great speed. She was loosing herself in you. “Mine.” she whispered against his lips when you leaned down. “You’re all mine, isn’t that right, baby?” toy moaned when you bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw out blood, her tongue swirling around the cut as you nodded. Her mind fuzzy with desire and the intense need to fuck her cum into you. “Say it for me, hm? Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, fuck, I’m yours…” you muttered in between babbles, Those words were enough to pull her closer. With a new thrust, you were stuttering. “Ellie, hm, I’m gonna…”

“Cum for me, baby. I need it. I need your cum.” she pleaded, and you were falling apart.

You cried out at the feeling, cumming in between moans with the sight of her auburn hair sticking to her forehead due to her sweat. Ellie was right behind, completely gone at the sight of your glazed over doe eyes totally fucked out and bloody bitten lips falling open to call her name.

Shee let out a ‘fuck’ as she continued to rub her clit against yours to help you both ride out your orgasms, sparks and stars shining underneath your eyelids.

You then used your trembling arms to sit up and your hands to bring her in a searing kiss that had her moaning in your mouth.

You sighed as her lips trailed down your neck and onto your chest, kissing and feeling up your breasts to make your high last longer. One of your hands tugged on her hair when you felt her suck on your skin, hard enough to bruise it all up.

And the biggest smirk curved her swollen rosy lips when her hoarse voice filled the silent in the room. “You are mine.” her breath fanning over a hickey that she had left over your heart.

-

⚰️deceased