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#(who is ? no-one can touch the master)
seagull-scribbles · 9 months
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They’re out of time (cancelled)
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khruschevshoe · 3 months
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The fact that literally anything and everything was retconned in Moffat and Chibnall's eras but the end of the universe remains the same...humanity dying on their search for utopia...the Master making them into toclafane and then the toclafane getting sent back into the desolate dying universe when the paradox machine ends...like damn, that might be the most depressing thing to ever happen in Doctor Who and it's still canon
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I know you mentioned you’re down for prompts in the integrated AU. I’m a simple girl and would love to see Gale wrapping Maureen in ALL the layers when it’s cold or sharing body heat?? I don’t know if that’s what you meant by prompts. Love the fic and can’t wait to see what you have planned for it. Gale and Maureen, and Bucky and Ida have my heart!
I AM SO DOWN!! This is so what I mean, I’ll most happily incorporate this as I think we alllll need and want to see this. Thank you for popping in and spreading love for it, I’m so touched y’all are enjoying it already.
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imminent-danger-came · 10 months
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Sorry if you‘ve been asked this before, but since we know you‘re fav lmk characters, I was wondering what you‘re favorite duos and trios were?
And/or however many characters you wanna group together. Just in general, the character dynamics you find neat!
(My guess is that MK and Mei are somewhere on the top of the list- if not THE top)
One of my favorite things about lmk (of which there are many lol), is that you could throw two darts, and whatever two characters the darts land on are bound to have an interesting dynamic.
One of my favorite episodes is the Sandy and Huntsman episode (2x08), Tang and Macaque also have an intriguing conflict in 3x08, and Pigsy and Chang'e (3x07) have such a heartfelt shared passion that you can't help but enjoy their on screen time together.
I'm someone who wants a sort of Ne Zha and Yellowtusk "we reluctantly work together" arc, where even though Yellowtusk may have helped nearly bring the world to it's destruction, he ultimately helped save it, and he also happens to know a thing or too about keeping the Jade Emperor's power contained. I think it'd really fit in with lmk's "past mistakes vs making the right choices now" theme—in all honesty Yellowtusk has already paid his time with an eternity spent in the scroll—and now he can truly help make a better world. I think it'd be a neat way to keep him involved in the story, give Ne Zha someone to bounce off of (they both view power as sacred and a huge responsibility, unlike Wukong for example who is much more flippant with power), and would give some juicy drama ("You would betray your brothers?") between Peng and Yellowtusk later down the line.
Though anon you're 100% right, MK and Mei are at the top of my favorite dynamic list lol (They're whole motivation is to protect each other out of 100% platonic love. Obsessed with them). I'm also really partial for the MK, Mei, and Sandy trio that pops up here and there (1x03, 1x04, 3x04, 3x06). Traffic light trio is a treat, and the sunburst duo has my heart forever and always (I love seeing the way MK and Wukong's relationship has developed over the course of the show, both for the better and worse). Pigsy and Tang are always a delight (thank you 1x04, 2x03, 2x04, 3x05, 4x04, and specifically the line "Sometimes it's that little bit of char that makes for a more flavorful meat! Even if it is a bit tangy."), they're definitely at the top of my list. Obviously I like shadowpeach, and shadowpeach + MK (ooooo the monkeys are such delicious/tragic foils oooo), and I think Mei and Wukong have a really interesting dynamic (Wukong seeing Ao Lie in Mei, Mei viewing Wukong as someone who has hurt MK). Wukong and Azure's dynamic is also super interesting (Azure with his unrequited crush and heartbreak), so is LBD and MK's (could talk forever about these two), however I'll cut this off here since I could probably go on for a long while about this specific topic.
#no one's asked me this before and it wouldn't be a bother if they had!#Sorry I kind of went on a tangent about different dynamics in the show and my Yellowtusk and Ne Zha agenda adsfafs#Come on Mr. "Wukong is not the loner he pretends to be'' see the good in Yellowtusk. Let him help keep the world from breaking.#Do it for me#Am I perhaps a bit too invested in a character that's honestly not had that much screen time? Perhaps#But what we are given is *muah* I love Yellowtusk#''This is not the change we dreamnt of'' lowkey the moral backbone of the brotherhood.#His little ''Azure...no!'' in the s4 special gets me too#He's just like Mei and MK fr fr#Yes. Maybe I DO like characters that would chose the person they care about over the world. What of it?#lmk writers are fucking masters at giving the most characterization with the least amount of screen time#And I'd say they mainly do that through parallels/foils/themes but I'm no expert#You can just usually put together a lot of who a character is and their arc based off how they interact with what's been established#I have a long rant about Pigsy's arc rattling around in my brain that I want to write out at some point#I will say this though: Pigsy being a man of tradition/family (2x04 - 3x07) and then giving him qualms with his family in s4 is. *muah*#Like. The thing that get's him to soften up about Zhu Bajie is learning he worked hard to become someone better#Like DO NOT TOUCH ME. I LOVE THAT PIG MAN GOD#I'm a pigsy stan blog now#Actually I love every single character I'll be real this is just who I am#I just also happen to love MK Mei LBD and Azure a little more than the rest afdasdf#asks#lmk#lego monkie kid#monkie kid#lmk speculation
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oveliagirlhaditright · 8 months
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So for no reason at all I'm thinking about this:
Sora was not chosen by a Keyblade Master to be a Keyblade wielder, but he becomes a Keyblade wielder before anyone else in the Destiny Trio (yes, I know, Riku's Keyblade--the Kingdom Key--had shown up on the Destiny Islands for Riku, but when Riku chose darkness over light, it opted to go with Sora instead: and there it would ultimately stay and Riku would get a different Keyblade later).
Riku was chosen by a Master to be a Keyblade wielder, and he's the third of the Destiny Trio to get his Keyblade, though still treated so much better than Kairi is, and truly gets to use his Keyblade before her (in having big adventures where he gets to use it, and whatnot): as I'm sure no one is really counting the three Heartless that Kairi killed with hers in KHII.
Kairi was accidentally chosen to be a wielder by a Keyblade Master (Aqua triggered the Keyblade Inheritance Ceremony with her by accident, that is), and this actually happens before the scene where Terra chooses Riku. But it's an accidental thing, which definitely stings a bit. And Kairi is the second of the Destiny Trio to get her Keyblade... though in a lot of ways, you wouldn't guess that.
Edit: I'm wrong. Riku gets his Keyblade second, and Kairi gets hers third, as Riku has his Keyblade when he protects Kairi and Naminé from Saïx. I, and another user on her at what point, just got confused because of Riku (if you talk to him as Sora when you beat Luxord) mentioning how he doesn't think Sora needs the power of darkness or his Soul Eater yet, which almost sounds like he still has Soul Eater at the time, when he doesn't. What a weird line just overall. -shrugs-
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When British writers come up with an American character’s dialogue and give them the most painfully British things to say with their American accent and inflection and it makes the actor come off as stiff. :P
#The Oxford Murders (2008)#I mean it was a very well-done movie visually (that flowy choreographed camera work in the beginning WOW)#The plot was apparently hard to follow and it’s not just my lack of spoken dialogue comprehension and attention working against me#I always have to check reviews to make sure I’m not the only person having a hard time following a story#because I’ve been trained through life not to trust my own mind due to its faultiness…#Anyway: When Seldom said something like “…only mathematics can be proven. Basic statements like two plus two equals four#are the only things sure in this world” I— 💀 HELP no no no… one of the previous characters you played#would like to kiss this new character of yours on the mouth for what he just said— ashsisksnsksjjsjdjdmsksk#That is until you elaborated on it and then basically took the side of his persecutor… THAT sucked#And I know my speech right now does not come off as naturally as it once did (or is it) I have no idea#if this is my real voice or the absorption’s afterglow causing me to speak in such an uptight manner#but I don’t mind it#but I do mind it#because no matter what combination of words I use it doesn’t sound or feel as if I am the one speaking — I stitch together what I hear#or have I only been conditioned to think the way I speak isn’t natural because nobody in my immediate life speaks like this#Who says stitching together words into a gigantic quilt isn’t natural for me?#But that still leaves me with no soul. I’m Pete the Parrot. Or Bumblebee.#Maybe I shouldn’t speak or write; maybe I need to master visual telepathy#or a language comprised entirely of touch and eye movement#I always feel the need to create languages so I can express myself without falling into cliches and dialects#I want to be free of stereotypes#I’m tired of speaking this language… EXHAUSTED#I speak in predictable patterns and when I think I’m not using a pattern by being unpredictable; the unpredictability becomes a trend
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collecting--stardust · 11 months
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This semester's summary: existential crisis, existential crisis, existential crisis
#ah and 💸💸💸#so im always good in words compared to action so theory is not bad but my skills is lacking#im aware of it but im always a bit slow to catch up and all and that's one of my biggest insecurity#anyway today we had our last review skills session and i was unfortunately standing nearest to the trolley#so i was selected to do the tracheostomy suctioning and boy thats one of the skills that im really bad in#and i was struggling so bad and im shaking and my group has the top students and while i give no fuck you can see how they judge me#and the person in charge for that section is a master student who is having her assessment and i really dont want her to get bad results#so more panic and insecurity#but throughout the session she still guide me patiently and even say like its okay youre doing great and all#and by the end of it i got the grip of it but i was so upset with myself and regret everything#but then she lightly touch my arm and said its okay youre doing really well when i obviously fucked up#and then i just.. cried#what a good thing i wear a mask because two of my course mates are tested positive today because damn#and i keep on pretending to wipe my glasses when i was actually hiding my tears like damn this is embarrassing#but... i really want to thank her personally but i cant even talk just now and i dont even know if i will meet her again#because i really am doubting myself lately and that word is really comforting and i really needed to hear it#god 2nd year sucks i didnt even cry throughout my first year even when i did the worst presentation of my life and look like a dumbass#i always rant here you guys must be sick of me lol#personal.txt
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werecreature-addicted · 2 months
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okay but what a fallen angel who you happen to stumble upon all bloody and bruised. and we must take him home to care for him and oops somehow we end up in his lap taking care of him in other ways…
poor thing. pathetic and wretched. He doesn't deserve your soft touch, but he accepts it anyway. who cares if he's being selfish right now, greedy and sinful. He's already fallen, how much worse can it get? you treat him the best you can, his injuries heal on their own, but he doesn't tell you that. He like your touch, and the way you coo at him that "this might sting a little bit". It does sting but he doesn't mind. He's fascinated by this new sensation of pain. Injuries never touched him before in the heavens. it's... not good, but it is fascinating.
His wings heal, and work again but the feathers turn black, marking his fall. You should be disgusted with him, he's defied his master, and now he's something unholy. You seem fascinated by his wings, running your fingers through his soft wings, and telling him how pretty he looks. and your laugh, heavens above, your laugh is sweeter than any church bells, he thinks he'd do anything to hear you giggle for him and see you smile.
He's obsessed with your touch, with the warmth your hands bring. He doesn't know what "touch starved" means until you explain it to him but it perfectly describes him and how he feels. He's an angel, not a human, he shouldn't need skinship like you do. but he does crave it. he doesn't want to let you go when you hug him. he finds himself pressing his face into your palm, forcing you to cradle his cheek the way you did that first night when you found him.
As an angel, all be it a fallen one, he's never had sex but he wasn't born yesterday. Lust has always been a temptation he struggled with. He knows what it means when his heartbeat quickens every time you're near. he knows he wants to kiss you, touch every inch of you, fuck you. He's aware of his own carnal desires, he's just so used to denying these wants he isn't sure how to act on them.
He truly does have pure intentions when he pulls you onto his lap. holding you in his big arms. But then you shift a little too much and your mouth is already so close to his... you'll take care of him, right? you'll take his big cock and make him cum like he needs, right? you're his savor, and now bringing him to ecstasy like this, He'll gladly devote himself to you, just keep riding him like that.
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washeduphazbin · 3 months
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Hello! I really loved the Adam x Reader Wife interaction hehehe reminds me too much of the dialogue: -You're an Idiot. -Yes... But I'm YOUR idiot... And forever 😌 Can we see a little more of this relationship?
You ABSOLUTELY can because it's the only thing on my mind since writing it. This will mostly be snippets of fluff between Adam and a female reader from my last one-shot. This is much shorter, but I wanted to give more of this dynamic before I work on a bit of a longer request someone sent in for them during the finale.
TLDR: Welcome to the Adamverse
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
"So this absolute cunt really thought it'd be okay to take one look at me and suggest that those Losers in hell can really make it into heaven and be redeemed!" You hummed as Adam sat with his head in your lap, complaining about his musical meeting with Charolette Morningstar. He looked up at you through his black lashes with a pout on his lips; you very clearly weren't paying attention. You had a book in your hands, which was taking more of your attention than Adam was taking up.
Now, that was something he couldn't let happen.
Your book was thrown halfway across the room in one swift movement, "Adam." You huffed, looking down at his innocent face, twirling his brown hair around his finger.
"Reading will rot your brain." He brought a clawed hand to his head and made a crazy motion against his temple.
"Pretty sure you've got that backward, darling." You felt his wings shiver under your touch as you stroked them tenderly, finally giving him your undivided attention. He stretched out in your lap like an oversized cat; Adam hummed pleasantly,
"Readings for losers, and my wife is not a loser." He shot back, yelping as you tugged on one of his feathers. "You bitch, the fuck was that for!"
"You seem to forget how much your bitch wife loves to read fuckhead." You shot back with a dirty look,
"Jesus, what's got your panties in a twist! I'm the one who had a rough day. First, I got blue balled and couldn't get to finish inside your sweet pus, and then I had to go to the most painful meeting of my life with the biggest doe-eyed fool I've met since her father. Now my wife is ignoring me when I'm clearly in distress." He watched in amusement as you tossed your head back with a sigh; you...his favorite winner. You caught the softer look in his eyes as you glanced down at him,
"Adam, you know I love you more than anything."
"I'm aware of how great I am, yes- if you keep giving me those bedroom eyes, I'm not going to be able to hold back."
"Glaring Adam. I'm glaring at you. I in no way want to fuck you right now."
"Impossible. No one ever glares at me AND no one ever doesn't want to fuck the fuck master; I'm a goddam delight, sugar."
He watched you take a deep breath of air in, "You did not just call yourself the 'fuck master.'"
"Ugh, duh, of course, I did. I am the fuck master. I've never heard you complain about this dick babe."
"You're an idiot."
"Ugh, duh. But I'm your idiot, forever." He mused, wiggling his fingers with his wedding ring on it. "Because you're gross, and you love me,"
"Unfortunately."
"HEY!" He sat up, brows furrowing in frustration. His jaw was set in a way you only recognize as a moment of slight panic and stress. "The fucks that supposed to mean?" You sucked in a small intake of breath, cupping his cheeks between your palms. He glared at you but still nuzzled against the soft palms of your hands.
"Darling." You spoke softly, moving to rest your forehead against Adam's, "I love you. I wouldn't want to be with any other person in heaven, hell, or on earth." His eyes softened, and you could see his face drop, "You're annoying as hell. But so am I; that's like our thing." You gave a crooked grin, nuzzling your nose against his, only to nuzzle his nose right back against yours. "I love you and that you're trying to keep everyone here safe and protected."
"I am; I want to keep you safe. You don't belong down there with them, and they don't belong here with us." He nodded rapidly, "You're so...good."
"You're giving me far too much credit, I didn't do drugs, and I didn't kill anybody when I was alive. I wasn't like a saint."
"You're a saint to me." You felt your cheeks burn, and you hit Adam gently with your wings; you saw his face light up and snicker. "What? You are. My saintly wife," You let out a strangled sound of embarrassment as he began to pepper kisses against your face. "Who's so good at praying on her knees-"
"And you ruined it." Adam tossed his head back in a laugh, pulling you close to his chest. You hummed as he nuzzled his face into your breasts, “Adam?”
“Hm?”
“I love you.”
“Love you too.”
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sweet-as-an-angel · 4 months
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so! you mentioned in the 'p0rn preferences' post that Gaz is not the one who jerks off the most in the 141, and I humbly ask you, who would that be?
I don't mean this as a request, just a little discussion, cause I feel like Soap would just be going at it at any chance possible, like a bunny. he probably doesn't care much if someone hears it, but that's just me thinking too much into it.
Who Jerks off the Most in the 141 + König
Warnings: 18+, Heavy Mentions of Masturbation, Male Masturbation, Implied Reader in Individual Headcanons, Accidental and Implied Voyeurism, Edging, Brief Mention of Injury, Men Who Moan <3, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except 'You'.
A/N: As per Anon's question (which I just had to turn into a post of its own) I present to you the list of the 141 members (and König) who jerk off from the most to least <3
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Soap
I have to agree with you here, Anon - Johnny is most definitely the king of self love when it comes to the 141.
He doesn't much care where he is or who he's with; when he has to satisfy his needs, he'll do so.
Though, he'll spare whoever's with him the sight of watching him throwing his head back, trying to stifle his moans behind gritted teeth whilst the wet sound of his hand slipping up and down the length of his shaft fill the room.
Unless they want to.
For one reason or another, he's nigh-insatiable when it comes to his libido, and the fact that his stamina affords him the luxury of beating himself off until his cum is practically translucent doesn't help.
The slightest thing can set him off.
Someone brushing past him ? Hard.
Someone stroking his ego a little too enthusiastically ? Bricked up.
He sees something that's shaped to be a little too curvy or phallic ? Stiff as a pole.
He remembers something mildly suggestive you did three years ago in that restaurant ? He's going to the Horny Realm.
Yes, his teammates have complained about his incessant moaning-come-grunting-come-whimpering through all hours of the night, his voice contorting through a spectrum of desperation and Johnny always ending up spent and overstimulated by the time the sun comes up.
And then he's ready to do it all again the second night touches the horizon line, giving his teammates a knowing smile when he walks into the room sporting nothing else save for a pair of boxers and a monster that looks to be trying to tear itself free from them.
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Gaz
Dude's young. Of course he's throttling that rooster on a nigh-daily basis.
The only reason he's not at it as much as Soap is because he likes to believe he still has a few threads of his self-restraint intact.
He doesn't.
Especially when it comes to you (regardless of whether you're dating yet or not).
But he doesn't need to know that.
Honestly, the only thing that separates him from Johnny's unmatched libido is the fact that it takes a little more than the slightest provocation to get Gaz going.
Albeit, that line is a thin one.
If he so much as accidentally sees something explicit for upwards of three seconds, he's hard.
The only advantage of his need for satisfaction is the speed with which he can achieve it.
He and Johnny actually timed each other once to see who could get off the fastest.
Gaz won. Though, only by a slim margin.
Needless to say, that made for a rather interesting conversation with the Captain when he walked in on two of his best soldiers sat panting on the edge of their cots, an almost-translucent spray spattered across their stomachs, eyes half-lidded and hazy.
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Ghost
The third-in-line for the Throttle Throne is none other than our beloved Ghost.
Unlike Johnny and Gaz, Ghost is more likely to leave himself alone at the first sign of trouble, toughing it out until he can will his mind to less lustful pastimes.
He won't make his jacking off known to anyone, either, often doing it in the shower where the water beats down so harshly that no sound can be heard for the water's fall.
That, and he's a master at keeping his voice low, no matter the circumstances.
More often than not, Simon makes quick work of jerking off purely because it’s a means to an end. However, if it’s you he’s thinking of, he’s much more likely to take his time — to immerse himself in the fantasy of your body around his, taking him so well in one capacity or another. Fucking yourself dumb on his cock.
During these times, he’s thorough — much more likely to edge himself, to throw his head back and growl between gritted teeth, to savour the sensation coiling in his stomach, his balls growing tight.
Otherwise, he’ll stroke one out as quickly as he can, getting back to business as usual.
And to look at him, on the surface, you'd never know that he just spent the last three minutes rubbing one out in the bathroom (yes, he is also a contender for first place in the 'Who Can Jack Off The Quickest Competition', but he'll never allow Johnny or Gaz the luxury of witnessing his unprecedented skill; that's for your eyes only).
Until he corners you, breathing down your neck, scolding you for tempting him - a man whose restraint lies only in his ability to hold off from reducing you to an exponential reflection of his prior state, breathless and covered in fluids.
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König
Have you seen the size of that thing ? Man should be in the olympics for being able to throw that weight around.
Similarly to Ghost, König only gets himself off when it's absolutely necessary.
Only if he doesn't have you lying around to help him, of course.
Though, he lets himself have a bit of fun with it. Especially if it's been a tough day.
He's vocal, too. Though he tries not to be.
He just can't help it. Days' - maybe even weeks' - worth of unspent adrenaline and semen is hardly any way for a soldier like König to go about his life. So, he expels it in the privacy of quite literally any isolated space he can find.
König is not an adventurous spirit by any means when it comes to self pleasure, but when needs must, he's willing to shoulder the weight of the prospect that someone on his team could walk in at any second and catch him spraying his stomach or the wall white with, let's face it, thick ropes of cum.
Hong-Jin's actually caught him doing that before now.
That's actually how the two became friends: Horangi heard König grunting in the store cupboard and, knowing how stubborn his Colonel was with letting others know when he was injured, sought him out. Wanted to offer his help.
Catching Colonel König in the act of throwing his head back whilst growling the name '(Y/N)' into the darkest corner of the room was, suffice it to say, not what Horangi had been expecting.
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Price
You just know he's cool with it. And by 'cool', I mean incredibly intentional, controlled, and not ravenous in the ways our other favourite military princesses are.
Sure, Price has gotten hard on the job a few times.
Who hasn't ?
But thanks to his level head, unwavering devotion to his work, and absolute refusal to acknowledge that he did, in fact, get a little bit of a chub during a shoot-out, he's managed to gain control over every facet of his body.
Until he comes home to you, of course.
Until he's able to loom over you like an omen and run his hands down your sides, stopping at your hips and pressing kisses that become more open-mouthed the further down the side of your neck he dips.
Pressing his hips into yours. Something demands your attention.
There have been very few occasions where a cold shower wasn't a quick enough fix for him.
When the days of having you milk him are too far out of sight, he's had to suffice with his own hands before now. Had to imagine - remember - what yours felt like in his place, your lips curled up as he gripped the chair arms, breathless as he moaned into the warm tones of your shared apartment.
But don't worry ! He'll be sure to catch you up on everything you've missed while he's been away once he returns.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
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toxicanonymity · 11 months
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that scream blurb that you posting about Ghostface being unconscious and the reader testing to see if he’s hard…. you have to make the full fic now pleaseee omg it was so good
Every inch
1.4k / m!ghostface x f!reader / from blurb.
SEQUEL: EVERY INCH 2 🔪 THREEQUEL: 3
Slasher master list
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Warnings/notes: I8+ noncon (ghostface unconscious) somnophilia. Based on the car scene from Scream II, but it's modern day (cell phones exist).  You can HC this as anyone but he's night walks coded if you read my other stuff.
Your skirt grazes his robe as you carefully stretch your right leg over the driver’s seat, trying not to touch him, trying not to wake him up.  It’s tricky crawling over Ghostface to get out of the car.  He smells faintly of weed and sweat.  You’ve never been close enough to smell him before. You’ve never been close to him at all for more than a few seconds, always with his knife in hand.  You hear him breathing behind the mask and assume he’s knocked out from the impact of the crash, but can't know for sure. 
He could be pretending for his own amusement, planning to taunt you then stab you at any moment. You’re going to have to open that car door sooner or later - it’s the only one left you haven’t tried.  It'll definitely make a noise. You hover there straddling him, delaying the inevitable. Straddling Ghostface, you think to yourself. Is this a nightmare? 
You slowly lower yourself into his lap, throbbing at the possibilities of what might await you.  Your heart pounds in your chest.  You put your hands on the edge of the seat to pull your body  closer and your heart nearly stops as  your inner thigh softly nudges  his hand.  But he doesn’t wake up – or if he does, he doesn’t show it.  Emboldened, you lower yourself a little more until your damp panties arrive at a warm bulge in his robe and your breath hitches.  He’s only somewhat hard,  but obviously packing.  He still doesn’t move.  His chest is rising and falling with his breaths.  You know he’s alive.  Unable to resist, you lower yourself a little more.  You tilt your hips and gently grind yourself against his package.  
What if the nightmare became a wet dream? It’s always turned you on, at least a little, but especially lately.  It’s been harder and harder to separate arousal from fear.  You’ve wondered if it was a sexual thing for him, the way he pursues you.  Stabbing is penetrative after all.  Does the thought of killing you turn him on? Would it turn him on to wake up to you straddling him?  After all, he’s only a man.  Why not, you think.  This could be your best chance to find out.  This might be the most power you’ll ever have in the situation.  You’re turned on thinking about it.  If you’re mere seconds from potential death, you have nothing to lose.  Plus you're curious what's under all this, and it's too risky to lift up his mask.
Fuck it feels good, and the fact that it’s Ghostface, the one who’s been stalking you, killing your friends, trying to kill you - that gives you such a rush.  The tables have turned.  You’re on top of him now.  You look around for his knife and it’s landed on the floorboard along with his voice changer.  You reach down to grab it then quickly stab it into the back of the driver’s seat at an angle so you can grab it if you need to but he won’t know where it is.  Then you return your crotch to his and a bolt of arousal slices through you when his hard package swells against you.  Holy shit he's hung. You slowly roll your hips against him, grinding into him, trying not to be too aggressive, but it’s hard to control yourself. 
-
His breathing changes and your heart jumps to your throat. You wonder, Is Ghostface seduceable? It might be your best shot if you're already getting his dick wet when he wakes up.  But there's always the chance he reacts violently, and now that you're up against him, it's clear you'd be no match for his strength.
Then you have a thought.  You carefully lift his gloved hand, and he doesn’t react.  You lift the dead weight of his heavy arm all the way above his mask, and he still just sits there, breathing.  You pin both his hands above his head, between the metal pegs of the headrest. His hands are large and the two of them together barely fit through the gap.  Then you slam down the headrest, pinning him there by his wrists.
His mask moves.  He seems to look at you.  Then a soft, low sigh.  You lower your crotch again and he’s harder.  You rub yourself against him slowly with your hands braced on the seat and have to stifle a moan in the shoulder of your dress as you grind against him and his cock swells even harder.  A soft groan muffled by his mask makes you wetter.  
You’re going to have to have him.  This is your chance and you can’t resist it.  Your inner thigh muscles begin to fatigue as you push yourself off his lap to hover again.  You lift up his robe, exposing PJ pants. Strange and not at all imposing, but convenient.  You arrange the robe behind his raging erection, then take a deep breath and pull down his waistband.  His stiff member stands at attention. You cover it with your warmth before the cool air wakes him up. A stab of desire shoots through your core as your wet panties meet his hard cock.  You rub yourself against him and your clit throbs.  Your core aches to be filled. 
You pull your panties to the side and nestle the swollen head of his cock at your entrance.  Then you sink down and fail to suppress your gasp at the stretch.  He moans but doesn’t move.  Your body makes way for him as you slide down and sheathe him entirely with your cunt.  His cock is nice and thick, it makes you feel so full.  It’s crazy this cock has been under the robe the entire time.  You wonder if you could just fuck from now on.  If he’d agree not to kill you - that is, if the threat of it doesn't turn him on.
You rise up, then sink down on him again, his size making you grateful for your ample wetness.  You lift and lower yourself and roll your hips into him. You try not to breathe too heavily as you feel it building in your lower belly.  You start to ride him less restrained, unable to resist fucking yourself on his nice, hard cock.  
-
His mask begins to move as though confused, and he grunts as he tugs at his arms,  unable to free them from the headrest.  He’s groggy and weak.  You’re not going to stop. You're too close to coming.  You greedily keep filling yourself to the brim with him.
His mask looks right at you. “Always wanted this cock,” ghostface says weakly, making your heart race.  “Knew it.”  Then it echoes from the voice changer on the floorboard.  Always wanted this cock.  Knew it.   He tugs at his hands more violently, then gives up.  
“Nasty girl,” he says, voice getting stronger.  Nasty Girl. 
He thrusts his hips up powerfully and you moan uninhibited. He thrashes his arms and stabs upward with his cock, bouncing you on his lap with the power of his hips.  Your whole body tingles and tenses, then you bite your own arm as your walls clamp down around him.  You come on his dick, then pull yourself off and he groans in frustration but has no way of getting you back.  
You open the car door and you’re torn about whether to make him come or leave him with blue balls.  You decide to jerk him off as a power move.  You kneel into the open door frame of the car.  You wrap your hand around his girth and fuck his fist.  “All ya had to do was ask,” he says.  All you had to do was ask.  You grab the voice changer and throw it down the street.  Now he's nothing but a man with his dick in your hand.
“Woulda given you every inch," he says. Maybe every inch of his blade.  He nods down to his crotch. "Now you know." His voice is coming back to full strength, smooth and low. It's a voice you can't quite place.
You know you should stab him while you have him tied down, but you're thinking with the wrong head now, unable to bear the thought of this cock going to waste. You slow your hand way down and edge him mercilessly.  His big, stiff cock twitches in your hand and you can tell he's dying for more.
You take your phone out of your bra and take a short video of him trying not to whimper, dick sprouting out of his unimposing pajama pants.  Then you finish him off and take a dick pic selfie with cum all over his robe.  You take the knife out of the back of the seat and leave him stuck in the car.
-
Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Even if you're reading this way later I would love to know your thoughts in a comment! Knowing what you liked helps me write more. 🖤🖤
Thanks @darkscape for helping me brainstorm his tagline. 
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exhaslo · 6 months
Text
Kinktober Day 18- Master!Miguel x Maid!Reader
"Did you hear? Another maid got fired for trying to flirt with the master." One of the head maids whispered. Another sighed,
"That's five this month. When are these young girls going to learn?"
"What about (Y/n)? She's been here for a while, has she made any comments about our master?"
"Thank goodness no. She is so focused on work that the poor girl might never get a boyfriend!"
        You frowned as you listened to the head maids chatter. You moved away from the wall you were hiding behind. You had no choice but to focus on work because of your bills. It would be a lie if you said you were not interest in the master of his household. Your master, Miguel O'Hara, was a wealthy man who always disappeared for business work. No one questioned anything. You were all hired to keep his mansion clean and tidy.
        Your job was to clean the main dining room. Due to other young maids, no one but the head maids were allowed to clean the master's bedroom. It was too dangerous. It was obvious as to why. The master was tall, toned and handsome. The only time you truly got to see him was when he returned home. Everyone in the mansion greeted him. You always tried to glance at him any other time, but you were afraid of getting caught and fired.
        A soft sigh escaped your lips as you thought about what the head maids said. You wanted a boyfriend, but it felt impossible. Every time you went on a date, something would happen to the person you were seeing. You started to wonder if it was you. As you walked down the hall, you heard a low grunt. Confused, you followed the strange noise and stopped in front of your master's room. You were told to stay as far away from here.
"Um, M-Master, are you okay?" You hesitantly asked, more worried about getting fired.
        It went silent. Taking a step back, you looked around to make sure no one saw you. Perhaps now would be best to leave? Right as you were about to turn your heel, the door opened.
"(Y/n)?" Miguel groaned lowly, leaning against the doorframe. You gulped, staring at him since he looked like he was in pain,
"Are you okay, master?" You asked.
        God, he looked so sexy. His shirt was undone, exposing his toned chest. Miguel was panting for air and sweat was rolling down his forehead. Realizing that your master was in pain, you immediately panicked.
"Master, shall I fetch you some medication? You don't look well," 
"It's just a headache," Miguel told you before sighing, "How are you with head massages?"
"Excuse me?" You were caught off guard by the question. Miguel faced you,
"Medicine won't work, but I'll be better with a head massage."
"Oh, um, I can try. If not, I'm sure one of the head maids ca-"
"I'm asking you. Not them."
        You flinched towards his demand. Agreeing to his request, you followed your master into his bedroom. The one place that all those other maids had failed to enter. You hesitantly followed him, taking in every little detail. The room smelled so good. Hopefully, this won't get you fired. You watched as Miguel laid against the couch, patting the space above his head. 
        You were nervous. What if you did a horrible job? Sitting down, you scooted closer and gulped as your master placed his head on your lap. He was so close! You inhaled softly before starting to rub your fingers against his forehead. You're watched enough videos, so hopefully you could copy what you saw. Hearing his rumbling groan, you bit your lower lip. God, he was so hot.
         Miguel groaned lowly as he relaxed to your touch. His headaches have been getting worse with his workload lately. That and the fact that you kept trying to date men who weren't good enough for you. With all the drama with other maids trying ti flirt with him, Miguel never had a chance to talk to you. You, the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on. You, the determined worker. You, the woman he wanted. Miguel was thankful that you passed by his door. This was pleasant.
"Is this alright, master? Am I doing okay?" You asked.
Master.
        That word rolled so nicely off your lips. Miguel lowered his hand to hide his growing erection. Oh how he wanted to hear you cry for him. To drill you with his dick as you called him, master.
"Si. I'm feeling better already," He lowered his voice.
        Miguel was just happy to have his head on your lap. Like a soft cushion. He needed you to keep visiting him. He may be the master of this mansion, but he was still a man. Closing his eyes, Miguel relaxed under your touch. He was going to get used to this.
---------------
        You tried to hide your smile as you hurried to Miguel's room with his dinner. Ever since he had you massage his head, Miguel had requested you to do for stuff for him. It made your heart flutter that you were getting close to him. All of the head maids shook their heads towards ypu getting cozy with the master, but hell! He requested you!
"Master! I've brought your dinner!" You chirped, knocking befoer entering. Miguel was sitting on his couch,
"(Y/N), you look awfully cheerful today." He said, adoring your smile. You placed his meal in front of him, "Do tell," Miguel loved to hear you ramble about your day.
"Well, I finally paid off one of my bills!" You chirped before hesitating, "That and...my last date asked me for another date. I was kind of wor-"
"Que?" Miguel stopped you in your tracks, "He asked for a second date?"
You could hear Miguel's angry tone, "Um...Yes?" You flinched as Miguel stood and approached you.
"You're not going out with him," He said firmly and stroked your cheek, "You're too good for him."
        That and Miguel was mad that the fucker dared to contact you again after he paid him. Miguel made sure to keep you single so that he could have you to himself.
"M-Master?"
        You glanced up at Miguel, leaning your head into the palm of his hand. They were so big and warm. You could feel your heart race as Miguel moved his hand to your waist. You could feel the tension. Miguel pulled you towards his bed and sat down. His grip still tight against your waist, your uniform blocking his touch.
"(Y/N), tell me what I am to you." Miguel's tone was needy. It made you melt.
"My Master."
"Mhm, you do as I say, right?" He started to draw circles around your waist, "You're not going to date anyone because you're going to be mine. Understood?"
"Y-Yes, Master," You bit your lower lip as he lowered you to his lap.
"I want you to take care of, (Y/N)." Miguel whispered in your ear, "Let me hear your voice."
        You started to tremble as Miguel stroked the outline of your dress. He leaned forward to kiss your neck, removing your collar with his teeth. You let out a small whimper as Miguel sucked on your neck. Heat started to form between your legs as you felt his erection grind against your panties. Tingles shot up your spine as your head flung back from pleasure. Miguel hummed, enjoying your body riding against his hips. Your damp panties starting to stain his pants.
        It was still not enough. You moaned lowly as Miguel brought his hand to your cunt, moving your panties aside to rub your folds. You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck as you began to ride his hand. His long fingers teasing your entrance, making you clench nothing but air. His hot breathe against your ear as you whimpered from his teasing.
"You have to ask for it." He said with a smirk.
"P-Please, Master."
"That's right, keep begging me." You moaned as Miguel entered two fingers into your pussy, pumping them against your tight gummy walls, "Look at you, about to cum on your master's hand."
"Master~" You tensed as his fingers curled against your pussy, causing you to orgasm, "Hah, Master!"
"Good girl, (Y/N). Always a hard worker," He praised, removing his hand to undo his pants, "Will you continue to work hard for me?"
"Yes, Master."
        You took a moment to catch your breathe as you positioned yourself above him. You moved his hand away from his cock, grabbing it instead. You were hesitant, but after seeing the lust in his eyes, you folded. Pumping his dick a few times, you cried out as he started to stretch your pussy. You were slow, but you kept going down on him, shaking from the intense feeling. Your hands rested against Miguel's chest, trying to finish putting his dick inside you.
        Miguel let out a grunt as he helped. He thrusted upward, causing you to cry loudly. His cock shoved so deep inside you that it made your vision blur for a second. He demanded that you move, to which to listened. Your cries became loud moans as you bounced on his dick. Your body leaned back as you rode him, pleasure overtaking you. Miguel held your waist, one of his thumbs rubbing your clit in the process. This made you cum again.
"Master!"
"Don't stop until your work is done," Miguel gave you an order.
        You whined, slowing down from your high. Miguel gripped your waist, rubbing your clit harder as he started to thrust. Your moans were music to his ears. No other man was going to have you. Not when you worked for him. Not when he was fucking your pussy this good. Changing positions, Miguel had your stomach against the bed, drilling you from behind. The strings of your maid uniform giving him even more of a high.
"Fuck, look at you taking your master's dick so well. Does it feel good? Being fucked by your master?"
"Yes, Master~! Please give me more, Master~!" You begged, gripping onto the bedsheets. Miguel pounded your pussy, making sure to fill you with his cum,
"You'll listen to your master's orders then, right? No dating anyone. This pussy is mine."
"Yes, Master!" You trembled as he kept slapping his dick into you.
"You're my personal maid. I'll take care of all your bills and you. You deserve everything, mi amor (my love)." He groaned, watching your pussy suck his dick more, "Fuck, you look so good with my dick in you. My perfect girl."
"Master!"
        Miguel had you working hard throughout the night. He made sure to take care of you and your issues. You were his personal maid, making sure to take care of all of his 'issues'. Eventually, you graduated from his maid to his wife. 
"C'mon, baby. Say it for me." Miguel groaned as he had you on your back, his dick pounding your pussy, "Just once more."
"Master~" You purred, arching your back as you orgasmed. Miguel moaned in response, giving you his fill,
"That's right, baby. I'm your Master."
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writers-potion · 16 days
Note
how do you write a liar?
How to Write Liars Believably
Language
The motive of every goal is the make the lie seem plausible while taking blame off the speaker, so liars will often project what they say to a third party: "Katie said that..."
Referring to third parties as "they" rather than he or she
In the case of a deliberate lie prepped beforehand, there will be an overuse of specific names (rather than pronouns) as the speaker tries to get the details right.
Overuse of non-committal words like "something may have happened"
Masking or obscuring facts like "to the best of my knowledge" and “it is extremely unlikely," etc.
Avoiding answers to specific, pressing questions
Voice
There's isn't a set tone/speed/style of speaking, but your character's speech patten will differ from his normal one.
People tend to speak faster when they're nervous and are not used to lying.
Body Language
Covering their mouth
Constantly touching their nose
fidgeting, squirming or breaking eye contact
turning away, blinking faster, or clutching a comfort object like a cushion as they speak
nostril flaring, rapid shallow breathing or slow deep breaths, lip biting, contracting, sitting on your hands, or drumming your fingers. 
Highly-trained liars have mastered the art of compensation by freezing their bodies and looking at you straight in the eye.
Trained liars can also be experts in the art of looking relaxed. They sit back, put their feet up on the table and hands behind their head.
For deliberate lies, the character may even carefully control his body language, as though his is actually putting on a show
The Four Types of Liars
Deceitful: those who lie to others about facts
2. Delusional: those who lie to themselves about facts
3. Duplicitious: those who lie to others about their values
Lying about values can be even more corrosive to relationships than lying about facts. 
4. Demoralized: those who lie to themselves about their values
Additional Notes
Genuine smiles or laughs are hard to fake
Exaggerations of words (that would normally not be emphasized) or exaggerated body language
Many savvy detectives ask suspects to tell the story in reverse or non-linear fashion to expose a lie. They often ask unexpected, or seemingly irrelevant questions to throw suspects off track. 
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Text
Halsin being very mindful of Astarion's "don't touch me"
Mindful enough that Astarion catches on to how deliberately he doesn't touch him. How even when Astarion has been downed in a fight, and Halsin has no time or ability to ask, he still says "I'm going to pick you up" before he does, or, "I need to lay hands on your wound to heal it"
So Astarion decides to fuck with him. Because he can. This is a man who was paying attention, who wanted to be so very respectful that Astarion can't help but turn it into a game, see how far he can push the druid.
Sitting too close, with no contact. Standing a little too close. Leaning over the large man's shoulder with his whole body to stare too-close at what he is whittling. It's easy to do, Astarion is a master of dextrous movement and seductive poses.
The first thing he learns is that Halsin is incredibly easy to get a reaction out of. "Heart on his sleeve" barely begins to cover it, the large druids heart rate picks up easily, he flushes, he telegraphs his responses with honest expressions. And yet still, he doesn't fall for the bait.
So Astarion starts touching him. Very, very innocently. Tugging at a loose thread on his shirt, flicking a leaf out of the druids hair. It's all fun and games, he thinks, with a goal of... With a goal of...
And one night, somehow, he's in Halsins' arms, warm and safe and listening to the sound of the big mans heartbeat thudding steadily while the fire burns low outside of his tent and he has no idea how he got here, but the game seems to have ended, somewhere along the way.
And this...
This is nice.
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touyasdoll · 8 months
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Revered
pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader
word count: 1k
warnings: sex with feelings, alcohol, you've both been drinking, friends to lovers, he comes across a little possessive, dacryphilia if you squint, body worship, unprotected sex, let me know if I missed any ❤️
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“Do your ears work, princess? Can you hear that?” He sneers, breath tickling the crook of your neck before he pushes himself up, biceps flexing beautifully as he looms over you.
He’s undoubtedly referring to the lewd, loud sounds manifesting between the two of you. It's absolutely intoxicating, just like his touch. You're already tipsy, but now you are drunk on what this man is doing to you.
“This is what pussy is supposed to sound like when you’re getting fucked.”
You aren't quite sure how you ended up here. With Katsuki fucking Bakugou of all people plunging his cock in and out of you while you cling to his strong arms for dear life.
You blame it on the alcohol. That's the only excuse you can think of to explain why he drew closer to you on the couch, hands and lips exploring places that your dear friend had never ventured to touch before.
Why the glasses you were sipping out of landed on the coffee tabe and he somehow wound up on top of you, his searing kiss stealing the very air from your lungs. Why your clothes lay discarded and you're now laid bare for him, limbs tangled up as sweat collects on both of your brows as your bodies move in tandem, seeking sweet, sweet pleasure.
"That pathetic excuse of a man you called a boyfriend never made you feel like this, did he?" He asks as he grabs your jaw, his touch still so gentle, even as his tone grows more desperate. "Did he?"
"Never," you reply, breathless and barely able to form the words as you lose yourself in the delirium.
Katsuki was definitely more imposing than the man who'd dumped you. He'd stood you up for the last time and it was Katsuki who'd come to comfort you, joining you in your libations as you drowned your sorrows over a man who was never worth your time to begin with.
"That's what I fucking thought," he says as a handsome smirk spreads across his face.
His expression is almost devious. It's dark and full of salascious promise as his strokes grow longer. Slower. Deeper.
It feels as if he's nearly penetrating your lungs the way that head of his cock drags against your pulsating walls and knocks against your cervix, kissing it with each pass of his hips, never giving you the chance to truly breathe as his body drives into yours with immense purpose. Like he has something to prove.
Because he does.
He's watched and he's waited. Too many men have come along and broken your heart. Used your body and never taken proper care of your heart, but that's over now.
As he peers down at your perfect form, he makes a promise to himself and to you. His hands glide along your body, worshipping every curve and dip. His mouth travels along your neck, your breasts, your jaw before they claim your mouth again.
It's heated, though that could just be the booze. It must be, you tell yourself, but no one has ever kissed you like this before. Like they mean it. Like they need it to survive. Like they need you.
"You are never going to be left wanting again, beautiful. I won't let it happen," he breathes out, his lips moving against yours before they swallow you whole again.
Your tongues tangle and you kiss him back despite how your lungs burn and your body tenses, pulled taut like the strings of an instrument that he has spent years mastering and he's performing a fucking symphony right now. To a crowd that only consists of you.
"You deserve to be pleasured. Treasured. Fucking revered," he growls through grit teeth, picking up the pace with his strokes as his hands works into your hair, cradling you with care like the prize he obviously thinks that you are.
"Katsuki," you gasp, a frantic energy swelling inside of you as the song he's crafting swells to a triumphant crescendo. "I-I'm gonna cum."
"Yes you are. You're going to cum all over my fucking cock. Like you should've been doing all this time. You are mine now. No one elses," he pants, sweat dripping from his face onto your breasts to glide down your torso. "I finally have you and I'm not letting you go. I've got you, gorgeous. Cum for me."
You hear his words, but they're drowned out by the sound of someone screaming. Of you, screaming. Howling with unrestrained need as the dam bursts and you break for him, gushing around his thick cock as it keeps on plunging in and out, nearly driving you mad.
"Katsuki!" You cry, literally, as tears prick your eyes, a warm wetness sliding over your cheeks when your eyes squeeze shut and you cling tighter to him, digging your nails into the fibers of his muscles.
"Fuck," he groans, a guttural noise echoing around your living room as his hot seed spills from him and into you, making the slick mess between your thighs a practical crime sense of passion and pure need.
His hips keep moving, drawing out the sinful noises the both of you trade as your respective highs peak and gradually begin to fade away, leaving you a weak, shaking mess beneath him.
"I love you," he confesses with the last of the oxygen in his lungs, his nose nuzzling against the crook of you neck as he lays his body on top of yours.
It's all encompassing. His presence. His words. His devotion. It feels like a safety blanket, bundling you up in all the things that you were searching for all along when it was right here in front of you the whole time.
"I love you too, Katsuki," you whisper the words you'd left unspoken for far too long against his temple.
He smiles against your skin. He's wrung dry after offering everything up to you, but your words renew him, giving him the strength to push up and ghost his fingertips along your cheek as his crimson eyes bore into your own.
"You will never want again. I'll take care of you from now on," he promises, catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he draws you in to another kiss.
This one is slow, sweet, and tender. It's a vow that he will never break.
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feirceangel · 2 months
Text
Imagine | Mine (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)
Imagine Feyd discovering that someone has dared to harm what’s his.
Word Count: 1,574
Warnings: possessive!Feyd, objectification, blood, murder, (Feyd is his own psychotic warning in himself to be honest.)
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Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is not known for his mercy.
Ask anyone in the universe who has heard even a whisper of House Harkonnen, and they will warn to tread carefully when dealing with them. If you value your life, you wouldn't even get near them.
And everyone knows Feyd-Rautha is one of the best examples of Harkonnen rage and violence, second only to his uncle, the Baron.
Renowned for his physical prowess as a fighter, his insatiable lust for blood and death, and his determination to rise in power and favour, he is a force to be reckoned with.
So why would anyone dare go against him?
He finds himself asking this as he looks upon your form, head bowed and turned slightly away from him. Hiding something.
Gracefully and predatory as a panther, he approaches you slowly.
"My darling.." his voice rasps.
Normally you greet him immediately, recognizing his footfalls from down the hall. You would smile at your na-Baron and ask him how his day went if you did not spend it with him.
You are oddly subdued tonight.
His eyes, always searching, follow a drop which falls from your cheek, landing on the cold concrete floor. Instantly, he is before you, grasping your chin in his strong hand. He tilts your head up, none too gently, and examines your tear-stained face.
"What happened?" His already raspy voice is deeper, darker.
Feyd is no stranger to your tears. In fact, he often revels in their presence, trying all sorts of things to make you cry. But he hasn't done anything to illicit that response today.
When you don't offer an answer right away, his grip tightens, squishing your cheeks together.
"Speak."
His voice holds no room for disobedience. You nod your head and he releases you, stepping back slightly.
You shake slightly as you begin, "I am sorry, na-Baron."
Feyd's anger is growing. You only call him that in public or when you are disturbed.
"Do not apologize. Explain," he can't stop himself from hissing.
"I took a walk today," you begin slowly. "Just to the training grounds to see if you were there. But I didn't see you so I walked back. He stopped me and-"
"'He'?" Feyd echoes.
"Richter," you supply the name of one of the Baron's top generals. "He grabbed me and said I was a no-good whore who should've been disposed of long ago."
Anger swirls with Feyd's chest at this news. Of course, many people have said harsh and often cruel things to you. But you always kept your head high and ignored the jabs. You’re always so strong.
This is different, he can tell.
"What else? You are not one to cry over a mere insult," he brings his hand up to swipe a tear from your soft cheek. You lean into his touch, relishing in its familiarity.
You inhale deeply, "He struck me without warning, na-Baron."
In his oft colourless word, all Feyd now sees is red.
"Where?" His voice is so low it's almost impossible to hear.
You shake as you lower the collar of your dress to reveal a swollen area on your shoulder, "Here."
His dark eyes flicker to yours, bidding you to continue.
You move your hand to your face and gently touch your tearstained cheek, "And here."
Feyd's hand clenches into a fist. He bends closer to examine your face, noting the slight swelling and the way you bow your head. He places his hand on the back of your head, angling your face upwards. A featherlight kiss is applied to your skin so softly you can barely feel it.
Your master and lover rises to his full height, "Rest my darling, I shall return shortly."
He turns to leave but you reach out and grab his arm. Feyd stops and turns to stare at you.
"Please, na-Baron. Don't hurt him."
He scowls at your request, "He has hurt you. Death is his reward."
"He has done nothing that you have not," you say. "I have known worse pain from your own hands.”
Feyd shakes his head and grips your arms, dragging you forward to stand with your bodies touching.
"Only I can touch what's mine. Only I can hurt you how I see fit. You take the pain only I give you." He dips his head close to your ear, breath sending shivers down your spine. “Do you understand?”
"Of course, my lord na-Baron," your voice is breathy.
You are intoxicated by his closeness, the dangerous poise with which he caries himself, the possessiveness of his words and the truth of them.
"Say it."
"I'm yours alone, Feyd."
He crashes his lips onto yours, teeth clashing and lips bruising from the force of it. His hand squeezes your neck as he kisses you. When he finally parts, leaving you breathless, he takes a moment to admire you. His thumb brushes against your lips before he turns once more.
"That swine sealed his fate when he laid hands on what's mine," Feyd growls as he stalks out of the room.
He returns mere minutes later, dragging an incredibly nervous Richter behind him. With a violent shove, he pushes the frightened man to stand before you.
"I heard you disrespected my darling," Feyd points to the floor. "Kneel."
Richter obeys without hesitation. He knows how quick Feyd is to anger… and how few survive it.
"Kiss her shoe."
The man's eyes flicker to yours.
"Now," Feyd places his foot on Richter's back, forcing him down.
Shakily, he presses his lips to your shoe with a mumbled apology. It does nothing to sate Feyd-Rautha's wrath.
With practised ease, Feyd lands a harsh kick to the man's ribs. He repeats the action until the man is a sobbing mess splayed before your feet like an offering.
You regard him coldly, remembering the bite of his hand across your face.
“Please! Please forgive me, my lord!” Richter manages to sob coherent words. Spit and blood dribbles from his mouth pathetically.
“You have insulted me,” Feyd states. “Hurt what’s mine, belittled what’s mine.”
The man’s hand reaches towards your foot, as if you could spare him from the savage that is Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.
Feyd crushes his hand beneath his shoe, grinding down eliciting a whimper of pain, as he steps before you and above his prey.
He is regal in his violence, eyes shining with possessive obsession.
“Dear one,” he places his hand on your arm before handing you one of his blades. “Help me.”
He smirks as you grip the knife tightly. Your eyes meet his.
Feyd knows you’d do anything he asked of you, just as he knows he’d burn the universe to ashes if you asked him too.
“Of course, my lord,” you say, kneeling by the hurt man. “If it pleases you.”
Feyd’s grin reveals blackened teeth, “You please me, dearest. Now, make him suffer for insulting me and mine.”
The first cut is shallow, uncertain as it travels down the man’s bare arm. Feyd tsks his disapproval.
You adjust your grip and slash again, quickly this time, hitting deep and pointedly. The man screams out and thrashes, but Feyd is upon him in a second. He holds Richter still as you unleash your rage upon him.
Feyd watches you draw blood with a pleasure he’s never experienced before. Relishing in your bared teeth and angry snarls, he commits this to his memory.
He halts your hand as the man ceases his thrashing. With a predatory smile, Feyd guides your hand with his, penetrating the blade deep into the man’s throat.
You watch the man loose his life, as you pant with exertion.
“You have done well, my pet,” Feyd praises, removing the knife from your hand and tossing it aside. He places his hand atop your head.
“Thank you, Feyd.”
He moves his hand down your back and presses his face into your blood stained neck, inhaling deeply. Your hands come around to grasp his shoulders, bringing him close to you. He wraps his strong arms around you, holding you like a lover would.
When he sits up, you lunge forward, capturing his lips with yours. Ignoring the blood and the dead body on the floor, you guide Feyd towards the bed, hands leaving bloody marks on his pale skin.
“Please let me repay you,” you beg, tugging at his shirt. “Allow me to repent.”
“You don’t need to repent, love. But you can keep begging.”
He allows you to disrobe him and press him down onto the soft bedding.
In all honesty, Feyd craves this battle of dominance between you. He could overpower you in an instant, yet the hold you have over him has him bending to your will.
You need only beg and he would take a knee and worship at your feet.
And you know it.
You know he craves this, needs it like an addict. He adores the pain you can lavish upon him, adores the meek demeanour you show to everyone else, adores the side of you that matches his own carnal desires tenfold, adores the way you gladly bleed for him.
He adores you.
And you worship each other in a wicked ritual of blood, sweat, and tears each night.
And he’d never let anyone take this away from him- take you away from him.
He’d kill anyone who dared try.
~~~
[A/n- thanks for reading! Please let me know if you liked it :)]
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