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stop4death · 3 days

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confessions

note: i'm not a good writer i apologize in advance. but i have challengers brain rot and can't stop thinking about it so i had to write this. thinking about writing fem!reader x tashi next (reader is lowkey in love with tashi as well in this one in my mind) lmk if u like this and maybe i will

pairing: stanford!art donaldson x fem!stanford!reader

summary: since you started at stanford, you’ve been avoiding your close high school friend, art, and you’re pretty sure he’s been avoiding you, too. when he shows up to the tennis courts while you’re playing with your roommate and asks to talk, some confessions are made.

warnings: nsfw 18+ (MDNI!), smut, sub!art donaldson, soft dom!reader, angst, fluff, grinding, hand job, praise, aftercare (reader loves art sm), art is pathetic (in a good way i love him), please lmk if i forgot anything

word count: 1.9k

posted: may 27th 2024

It’s been a little over a month since you started at Stanford. With the stress of all your classes, homework, club meetings, and private out-of-season training for tennis, it feels like you can never catch a break. To make things even worse, you’ve been actively avoiding your close high school friend, Art. You promised each other you’d stick together at school while your best friend, Tashi, and her boyfriend, Art’s best friend, Patrick, are touring. Now, you haven’t heard from him, and haven’t tried to reach out to him either. When your roommate found out you’re a tennis player, she asked if you’d be willing to teach her how to play. You happily agreed, so you’ve been going down to the courts and playing with her once a week. Today, your heart jumped out of your chest and you almost dropped your racket when you were teaching your roommate how to backhand and Art walked in, sitting down in the stands.

“You okay?” your roommate asks, concerned by your sudden change in demeanor. She looks back to where you were looking and sees Art, then turns back to you confused.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine” you say unconvincingly, and serve the ball. She doesn’t press any further, so you continue with the lesson, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach.

You can’t help but keep glancing up at Art. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since he got there. Once you finish up her lesson, you say goodbye to your roommate and nervously walk up to the stands where Art is sitting.

“Hi.” you say softly, scratching at your palm anxiously.

“Hi. How have you been?” he asks, seemingly genuine.

“Um… I-I’ve been good. How about you?” you stutter, your heart racing.

“Can we talk?”

“Yeah, sure.” you sit down next to him, but he shakes his head.

“Privately?” he looks around at the few people who are on the tennis courts, including your roommate who’s still slowly packing up her bag and glancing up at you confoundedly.

The knot in your stomach twists even tighter, but you nod your head in agreement, standing up. You follow him out of the tennis courts and towards one of the dorm buildings. He unlocks a door on the first floor, gesturing for you to enter. As you walk into your friend’s dorm room for the first time, you look around. Your lips curve up slightly and you feel a warmth in your chest when you notice a photo of yourself with Art on a wall of photos of his friends and family. Your apprehensive look returns when you turn back towards the door as he shuts it behind him, standing awkwardly in the middle of his room. You’ve never been a fan of confrontation, but you should have prepared for it when you decided to completely ghost one of your best friends with no explanation.

“You can sit down, you know.” he says casually.

You glance between his desk and his bed, ultimately opting for the desk chair. You face the chair out away from the desk and sit down. He sits down on his bed, facing you.

“Nice room.” you say awkwardly, desperate to break the uncomfortable silence.

“Why did you stop talking to me?” he says plainly. You suddenly feel like you might vomit at any second. You would rather be six feet underground than in Art’s dorm room having this conversation right now.

“I didn’t mean to, I’ve just… been so busy with classes and clubs and training I guess I haven’t gotten the chance to text you.” you lie. And he sees right through it.

“Can you be serious… Why haven’t you talked to me since we got here?”

You take a deep breath, and look down at your hands. Trying to think of any other way you can stretch the truth and not have to tell him what you’re about to tell him, but your mind has gone blank. You look back up at him, realizing you have no choice but to be honest.

“Art I-” you try to find the words, your heart racing even faster. “I, um… back in high school, I had this… huge crush on you." Your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you stutter through the confession you've held onto for years, and you continue awkwardly, “And I knew you had a thing for Tashi, and it hurt because obviously who could ever compete with Tashi. She’s literally perfect. So over the summer, like a week before school started, Tashi and I were drunk and I decided to block your number. I thought maybe it would help me move on, start fresh, you know? I didn't want to keep being just friends and feeling, I don't know, awkward around you." You shift uncomfortably, the weight of your words heavy on your shoulders. "Honestly, I forgot I even did it until now. I thought maybe you were avoiding me, too, or… I don't know, I guess I just didn't think it through. I'm sorry, Art. If you don't hate me now, could we maybe try being friends again? I've moved past that crush, I promise. I won’t let it get in the way again.”

You try to make the last part sound as convincing as possible. You don’t think you’ll ever be over your crush on Art. He just sits there and listens as you talk. His expression is unreadable, and for a moment, you fear you've said too much. You look down again, fearing his response.

“Why didn’t you tell me before… that you had a crush on me?”

“Cause you liked Tashi. Like everyone else.”

“Tashi was always just a friend to me. I liked you.”

You look at him as if he must be lying, searching for any hint of irony in his tone or facial expression.

“I still do.” he says softly, and the knot in your stomach is replaced with butterflies.

You stand up from the chair, and Art looks at you with concern, thinking you’re about to walk out. You take a few steps forward and sit down next to him on his bed, your knees brushing together.

“I still like you, too.” you whisper and put a hand on his cheek. You slowly lean closer to him, and press your lips against his. His lips are soft and they taste of cigarettes and watermelon lime ChapStick, his favorite. You’ve dreamed about this taste for years. He places a hand on your thigh, deepening the kiss. You quickly move to straddle his lap. Your hands twist in his soft strawberry blond hair as you kiss him sloppily, as if you were trying to consume him. You feel his erection growing under you and grind your hips down against him, making him moan softly into the kiss. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he quickly removes it, tossing it carelessly across the room, then smashes his lips back against yours hungrily. His hand moves up your thigh to the waistband of your skirt.

“So impatient.” you say with a smirk, moving your head down to kiss his neck and taking his hand in yours, moving it away from your waistband. He whimpers at the feeling of you sucking and nibbling gently on his neck. You kiss up his neck and jawline then back to his lips quickly before pulling away. You move off his lap and sit further back on his bed, spreading your legs slightly and patting the space between them.

“Come sit here.”

He looks at you a bit confused, but he obeys. He sits between your legs on the bed, his back to you. You move your hands slowly over his arms and chest, kissing his neck from behind, bringing back the sweet sounds of his whimpering. He closes his eyes and leans his head back on your shoulder, giving you better access to his neck. He moans softly, reveling in the feeling of your lips and hands on him. You tease him, moving your hand slowly down his abdomen and stopping just before his waistband, then moving back up slowly. You do this a few times before he can’t take it anymore and his hips buck upwards, begging for your touch.

“Such a pretty boy… you want me to touch you?” you tease, speaking softly against his neck and driving him insane. He whimpers, nodding his head eagerly.

“Use your words.” you whisper in his ear. His hips buck up again, a needy whine escaping his lips.

“Please,” he gasps out, his voice soft and needy, “please touch me, I want you so bad.”

You smirk and move your hands to the waistband of his pants, tugging down gently. He wastes no time pulling his pants and boxers off in one quick movement.

“Good boy.” you say softly, sliding your hand down his abdomen. A strangled moan leaves his lips as you wrap your hand around his cock and start to stroke him. His hips jerk up, desperate for more friction.

“Fuck” he gasps out, his voice a husky whisper. You continue to stroke him slowly, your other hand wandering over his chest and abs, kissing his neck occasionally.

“Love hearing your moans… such a good boy for me.” you say softly in his ear. He can’t contain his whimpers as you continue.

“Feels… so good.” he chokes out through moans, leaning his head back on your shoulder again. He lets out a low moan as you kiss his neck again, panting heavily.

“Such a good boy.” you emphasize, playing with his hair with your other hand.

“Yes, I am… such a good boy for you.”

You can tell that he’s close to the edge.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?”

“Yes… yes.” he gasps, his eyes squeezed shut as he breathes heavily. You stroke faster now, and he lets out a loud moan as he finally lets go, cumming hard on your hand. He pants heavily as he leans back against you, trying to catch his breath. “Thank you.”

You move your hand up to your mouth, licking some of his cum off and swallowing it, then moving your hand to his mouth. He knows exactly what you’re asking of him. His breath hitches at the sight, and he leans forward to lick the rest of his cum off your hand. He swallows then closes his eyes and leans his head back against your shoulder.

“You did so good for me, angel. My good boy.” you wrap your arms around him, holding him close and rubbing his stomach as he recovers. He lets out a contented sigh as he leans back into you further, his body still trembling slightly. He puts his arms over yours, holding onto you tightly as he catches his breath. You let him lean on you for a few more minutes, still rubbing his stomach, before the two of you lay down, you still holding him from behind. He turns over to face you, his lips curling into a smile. You smile back at him and put a hand on his cheek, stroking it gently.

“I missed you so much. Please, don’t ever leave me again.”

His words are like a shot to the heart. You still feel like a horrible person for the way you hurt him, but one thing about Art is he could never hate you, no matter what you do. You pull him close, stroking his hair gently as you whisper, “I won’t. Ever. I promise.”

#challengers #art donaldson #mike faist #brain rot #smut #art donaldson x reader #sub!art donaldson #art donaldson smut #art donaldson fanfic

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seeingivy · 2 days

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dream girl (ongoing) 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

actor!sukuna x singer-songwriter!y/n

ahead of the biggest role of his career, ryomen sukuna makes the grave mistake of breaking up with his vicious singer-songwriter of a girlfriend. anticipating the worst slander campaign ever, sukuna's team proposes that he save face by fake dating a new girl and being as loud as proud about it as he can in the press. the problem? he seems to have picked the most stubborn, irritating, and confusing girl to help him with his task.

read on ao3

the dream girl playlist!!

content: actor/fame au, fake dating trope, irritated acquaintances to lovers, itafushi my beloved <3, aot characters as a side plot, fluff, angst, mentions of stalkers, eating disorders, and grooming in the industry, miscommunication, CELEBRITY DRAMA, olivia rodrigo, and half SMAU half writing <3

obsessed

espresso

pls comment on any of the chapters or the master post if you're interested in being on the taglist <3

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nyxiswrites1200 · 3 days

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Thinking of John Price being married to the prettiest wife. He invites Soap, Ghost, and Gaz over to his house where his pretty girl is sitting in the pool in the smallest bikini.

Getting all flustered because of the other guys but Price kisses her and says it's fine.

Ghost especially can't help but stare. He's never seen something so pretty in his life. Price knows you like him, you like the masked brooding L.T.

You sweetly ask for permission and of course Price grants it. You get to flirt with Ghost and hold on to his muscular arm while you try to convince him to get in the pool. However you just end up beneath him on a pool chair as he touches you.

"You take good care of your husband, love?"

"Mhm, I do. Let daddy fill me up all the time"

"You got room for one more?"

Letting him fuck you as Soap and Gaz try not to stare but they sit on the edge of the pool with their cocks hard. Price watching as he shamelessly strokes his cock, asking you how you like Ghost's dick in your tummy because it's so big.

Ghost fucking you in the backyard of your husband's house as the rest of em watch, trying not to be pervs. But you're just a sweet pretty little thing :( they can't help it.

Ghost is pounding you, making you moan so loudly. Good thing there's a tall fence surrounding the yard. He's got you pinned under his large frame, not even undressed.

Soap and Gaz cum in their swim trunks and Price's shoots over his happy trail on his stomach as Ghost pumps you full, leaving you dripping with his cum. You already know Price is going to want to fuck it back into you tonight along with his own.

Ghost was sweet though. Sent you flowers when he was away because he didn't want you to feel used even if you did want his cock anyway...

An: I don't know what came over me guys <3

#did i mention i like cod???#this is my confession #cod x reader #cod brain rot #ghost simon riley #gaz cod #captain john price smut #john soap mactavish #brain rot #oneshots #fem reader #fanfic writer #reader insert #cod smut #ghost cod #task force 141 #task force x reader

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rebouks · 3 days

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Wren: Robinnnnnnn, mom asked you to watch Ava for a minute. Robin: [tuts] Don’t drag her like that. Wren: Why not? She likes it. Robin: Until you drag her over a rock.

[Wren ignored Robin as she continued hauling a giggling Ava through the long grass]

Wren: Why’re you here again?

Levi: Why not? Wren: ‘Cause this isn’t your house. Byrd: Shut up, Wren-.. you’re being a meanie! Wren: You shut up!

[Wren scowled, muttering something under her breath]

Levi: What?

Wren: I said you’re stupid! Levi: I bet you’re stupider. Wren: Not as stupid as Byrd. Byrd: I’m not stupid! Wren: Are too! Robin: No one’s stupid.

Robin pulled Ava safely into his lap and listened to Wren and Byrd bickering, eventually turning their attention toward Levi, accosting him as ferociously as they would anyone else; his usual walls crumbling to dust as they wrestled amongst the clover. His friends might not have understood why he wanted to hang out with Levi, but Robin could sense that there was an entirely different boy hiding beneath his prickly, well-maintained façade.

The rustling birch trees and the dappled shadows beneath created a rare safe haven for Robin’s classmate, who in the absence of anyone to impress or mislead, finally smiled and enjoyed himself with a genuineness that Robin had never seen before.

Straightening Ava’s little bow and holding her closely, Robin couldn’t help but think how awful it must be to be part of a family that never played or laughed together, a family that didn’t particularly enjoy your presence or show you much affection-.. if any. It wasn’t hard to imagine how strenuous it’d be, constantly pretending to be someone you weren’t.

He didn’t exactly want to spend every waking moment with his parents, nor his siblings, but Robin loved each one of them dearly and struggled to picture his world without them. It wasn’t expected or necessary given how supportive Oscar and Courtney usually were, but Robin took his role as an older brother quite seriously and enjoyed lightening their load by looking out for his brother and sisters; he felt a pang of sadness for Levi as he realised that on top of his absent parents, he couldn’t even rely on his own sister as a source of comfort or approval.

Robin wondered what would’ve happened if he hadn’t heard Levi in time-.. what if he’d been that bit better at blocking everything out, what if he’d been distracted, what if he was too far away or hadn’t been there at all?

He’d tried to convince his parents that he wasn’t interested in going because an elementary school disco sounded like the most boring event in existence, but they’d assumed his reluctance had been due to anxiety and cajoled him into going anyway, for a little while at least. In the end, he supposed it was a good job they had.

If something had happened to Levi that night, he would’ve struggled to forgive himself, and the thought of anything terrible befalling anyone else at the hand of his apathy or purposeful ignorance filled him with dread.

Although it could be difficult and tiring sometimes, he probably ought to pay more attention to his surroundings rather than ignoring everything, as he’d been partial to recently-.. just in case.

It was nice to have the option these days, but maybe Robin was never meant to suppress his gift completely, maybe he’d been given it for a reason. He had no idea why, how, or where it came from, but it wasn’t just a quirky annoyance anymore, it’d literally saved someone’s life; it was clearly far too important to wilfully dismiss...

Previous // Next

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 story #sims story #forever in between #fib #robin finch #wren finch #byrd finch #ava finch #levi sears #if u dare hang out at wren's house ur gonna get attacked #thems the rules #¯\(°_o)/¯#and even if they don't become friendos.. at least levi enjoyed himself for ONE afternoon #u did it robin #🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️#ahhh i'm all emotional cos this'll be the last story post for a lil while #we're gonna do a big ol' time skip now #😭#lots to do!!#this whole arc of robin's childhood was basically..#this gift sucks and it's too much -> wait maybe it can be controlled -> no wait maybe it's too important to ignore!!#which was basically the only plan i had going into it #winging it as per skdjsk #my notes for the next arc is an empty page #ONLY BRAIN ROT ON THIS BLOG #newayy..#might be quiet for a while other than shit posts n such

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imagoofball · 2 days

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I forgot doctors made money, So whenever House disappears from his apartment he always had a home to go to. I thought it was movie magic at first but imagine. (Spoilers ahead)

It’s 2006 and House rents a 1bed 1bath apartment. That’s like $600-800 a month.

He’s a surgeon/doctor/the first ever diagnostic doctor so his check is whatever he writes on the sticky note Cuddy bribes him with to get back to work.

He never really spends his own money fr since he has Wilson. (Bro bought a whole motorcycle with that man’s check)((yes he paid it back but still))

He eats air, water, & bread crumbs on his own time since the meds, pain, & beer take his appetite away. (Spectrum headconon aswell) So he’s never buying groceries.

He wears the same 5 outfits so the most he’d spend on wardrobe is shoes.

So basically when House is in the mental hospital, jail, vacation, or with Wilson for X amount of months/years; all he has to do is put his rent on auto pay and he’s set cause he’s rich!

(My commoner mind couldn’t comprehend the fact that House never had an eviction notice on his door for leaving his apartment all that time)

#he can afford his audacity #house md #gregory house #hugh laurie #hilson #2006 #3am thoughts #house brain rot #rich with daddy issues

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jellyfishvibes · 2 days

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I'm actually going insane you dont even know

All the details? the master sword? how they did the fairys wings? the tiny ocarina? the gossip stone and skulltula? god i love that they did the two and they have the oot version as well

oh also because i have brain rot

It is oot hylian, which means i cant fully translate it cause uhhh cant read japanese

this is what google translates gives me, it might not be accurate tho

#screaming and fucking crying #dont touch me i need it #loz #legend of zelda #loz oot #loz botw #lego #hylian script #jellyfish's thoughts

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jellyvibes710 · 1 day

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PART 1

Title art

@abbeyofcyn

It’s finally started, and I’m super excited!!

The whole story will be between 10 to 15 parts depending on how much details an story I wanna cut or keep

I’m totally a day late but I’m always late to my own deadlines hahaha

I’m not completely satisfied with the colors but I’ll fix it later when I decide I like something bfdfgncse

I hope you’re prepared >:3c

[Witness my brain rot to my favorite version of leo here]

#rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #save rise of the tmnt #rottmnt donnie #unpause rottmnt #rottmnt mikey #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt raph #rottmnt splinter #krang infection au #krang infection comic #abbey's fanart tag #totally innocent #would never harm a soul #I say from my ‘definitely hurts souls’ jail cell #rottmnt disaster twins #do you recognize the references I used?#>:]

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sleipliir · 3 days

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Did somebody say Vampire Goth boi?? 🦇🖤

#I’m still in that goth boi brain rot #now in vampire flavor #slicked back and long hair? say less #yourboyfriend game #yourboyfriendgame #y0urb0yfriend #yourboyfriend #yourboyfriend fan art #yourboyfriend peter #peter #yb #goth peter #goth yb #vampire peter #vampire au #your boyfriend au #sleip-art

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yaoiboypussy · 3 days

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“Kids these days are having their brains rotted by the internet! skibidi toilet is ruining their brains!” - person who grew up with MLG videos

#.txt

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athinga · 17 hours

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Idk man whipped this up at midnight because this game has been rotting my brain for the last week non stop

Translation for my awful handwriting under the cut:

*Just watched the Lamb annihilate a witness in a fraction of a second*

*took them with on a crusade as a "bonding exercise"*

Narinder: "What have we created Leshy..."

Leshy: "We?"

L: "We!? Who the fuck is WE? YOU caused all of this!"

Lamb: "Ah! Would you look at that! They're finally talking to each other."

*distant screeching noises*

Lamb: "I'd consider this a successful bonding session, wouldn't you agree?"

The crown stays silent and stares disapprovingly

#cotl #cotl lamb #cotl narinder #cotl leshy #cult of the lamb #cotl art #art #sketch #fanart #artists on tumblr #midnight brainrot

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aduck8myshoes · 2 days

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I know the writers won't give us an endgame wlw sibling, but think about the bridgerton family comedy they could milk out of that! Imagine:

In either a cold open cut-off or a cliffhanger, Cressida impulsively kisses Eloise and runs away, leaving Eloise completely blue screened. Eloise has no idea that lesbibabs exist, bc regency, and she is having lots of feelings she doesn't understand. She needs knowledge which to her means books, but where would one even find such a publication?

Cue Eloise trying to casually ask her two most worldly brothers where to find books about girl kissing. B and C spend a good 20 seconds looking back and forth from her to each other and going on just incredible face journeys. She's like, I just overheard some stuff and was curious this is not about me at all ahahaha, and they all suddenly have very important things to attend to that are not this conversation.

(Read more because this got long lol)

Colin has seen women have sex with each other in brothels, but he is an oblivious mfer that just discovered complex emotions last season, and probably had no idea there could be romantic feelings involved. So of course he goes to his wife about it.

Penelope is like, wtf, where is this coming from?, and Colin manages to not blurt out that it's about Eloise for a whole 10 seconds. Pen, who actually has a modicum of emotional intelligence, has heard her recently reconciled best friend complain for years that she doesn't understand why women want husbands, and is like, oh, some things suddenly make sense. She tells Colin to not worry about it and go to sleep.

Bi-nedict, who does know what a lesbian is, has heard his darling sister complain for years that she doesn't understand why women want husbands, and is like, oh, some things suddenly make sense.

Being the selfless brother he is, he heads over to the nearest artist orgy and asks around for some literature. They're like, oh yeah for sure, we have a zine club! (And then gets dicked down/pegged like he deserves.)

A few days later he gets a discreet delivery of underground pamphlets with names like "A Treatise on Human Sexuality" and "Like Yearns for Like: Observations on Attraction" as well as some he will NOT be giving to Eloise. (Zine club is very educational)

The less salacious pamphlets get awkwardly passed off to Eloise before bed and she spends all night in a montage of reading, recalling memories of Cressida (or possibly just women in general) being attractive, and working her way though her mini identity crisis.

At breakfast Violet sees her be like "Thank you for your... help. It was very... helpful" while not making eye contact with B, and mentally steels herself for whatever nonsense her kids are up to now.

For the next several episodes we watch them stumble upon Eloise as she attempts to get Cressida alone to talk (and then "talk") and have to try to keep anyone from finding out about the gal pals.

(Benedict going to duck around a corner only to see his sister sucking face and ducking right back out: Hey Colin and Penelope why don't we spend this entire ball standing right here blocking the entrance to this side hallway for no reason.

Penelope, who hasn't seen E in like an hour, putting 2 and 2 together: Ah yes, what an excellent idea brother-in-law! The view of everything in the opposite direction of that hallway is most splendid from this exact spot.

Colin, looking around, probably still oblivious: did Eloise go home?)

Anthony and Kate could be dragged into the effort as well at some point when they see something they shouldn't while looking for their own make-out spot.

And then when the drama hits and the relationship is revealed, they all put on their best shocked Pikachu faces while Colin finally gets it and is like, "oh wait is that why she was asking about-" before Pen stomps on his foot.

Violet lets herself give up for a full minute and just bang her head on a table.

#bridgerton #creloise #these gays have me writing meta for bridgerton ffs the brain rot is real

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hurlingdown · 3 days

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ur amazing at writing i kept reading ur sanji and zoro oneshots a couple of times but can we get relationship hcs of top male reader x zoro and sanji separately with a mix of nsfw and sfw? i need a nix of tooth-rotting fluff and filthy ass smut w them

relationship headcanons with zoro & sanji (top male reader, nsfw + sfw)

tags: perv!zoro, send him to horny jail, cute domestic fluff, snuggling, semi-public, soft & rough sex, spanking, jealousy, angsty crumb, sanji wears lipstick, smoking during sex, this is rly soft don't get fooled by the tags

ZORO

Romance was something neither of you regarded as crucial in your lives, until you met each other. But being with the Straw Hats meant being surrounded by constant chaos and never-ending laughter, and it wasn’t hard to realise that you found your peace in him, just as he did.

It wasn’t a fleeting glance that made you fall in love with him. It was more gradual, more tender than you would’ve thought, with moments where you’d catch him with a poorly-hidden laugh with a joke you spouted out on a whim, or a breathtaking glare directed at you as you challenged him to a spar—moments where time would stop and you’d feel as though the world belonged to the two of you, and maybe it did.

Zoro was awkward at first, vigilant eyes snapping up to yours every time you made an attempt to flirt with him, using his last brain cell to differentiate between a joke and a pick up line; but then he’d relax in time when you take his hands into your own or rub a thumb into the hot pulse of his neck, sliding your hand down to his lower back to make it clear what your intentions were.

Your touch made him feel safe and assured, and that meant a lot to you. Zoro considered himself as the protector of the crew, constantly making sure that everyone was safe and okay, but rarely would someone ever ask if he was okay. You gradually became that someone in his life, and even if he wasn’t verbal about it, he was grateful to you.

About… nicknames. From an outsider’s perspective, most would assume that Zoro wouldn’t be big on pet names and the like, considering that he demonstrated his familiarity through tone, not language. That was what you had presumed, too, in the beginning. It took over a week for you to slip up and call him ‘babe’, and he had flushed so violently all the way down his neck and chest.

“What—what’d you say?” “Nothing,” you quickly refuted. Perhaps he didn’t like it. “That was… the wind.” “No, I—want to hear it.” Zoro glared at you, red in the face. “Again.” “Babe.” He smirked. “Yeah?”

A few weeks into the relationship and your routines had already synced, with the two of you napping together on lazy afternoons, dozing away in each other’s arms; while on other days you’d workout and spar together. Sometimes he would purposefully let you pin him down onto the floor during a wrestling session, with you holding his hands above his head with a firm grip, the other pressing into his abdomen, warmth bleeding into skin.

Zoro would spread his legs slightly wider to accommodate the girth of your knee, allowing it to settle snugly between his thighs. He’d feel himself getting turned on by the expressions you make, with you panting and straining with effort to keep him still.

Sometimes he’d writhe around a bit, just to feel your strength overwhelming him, making you break a sweat. He’s a total perv when it comes to your scent: heavy and so, so masculine, especially after a nice, sweaty workout, sometimes even stealing your used shirts to keep them for himself. As for what he does with them—you haven’t found out yet.

At night, though, it’s as if he becomes an entirely different person. He would crawl into bed with you after taking a shower together to wind down for the day, burying his face into the crook of your neck to breathe in your scent, damp hair tickling your cheek.

Taking the hint, you would pull him into your arms, knowing he was feeling needy and wanted someone to hold him. He would mumble a “love you”, drape an arm over your waist and fall asleep a minute later. Your night together would end once you heard his soft snores, and you’d kiss his face and hair, lavishing him with the affection you weren’t able to give him during the day, before you, too, inevitably fall asleep.

You had thought Zoro would be more hesitant about his wants as someone who was clearly a virgin until not long ago, but boy, you were so wrong.

After you figured out each other’s boundaries, he’d stride up to you and tell you directly. “I’m horny,” or “Fuck me,” or “I want you in bed tonight.” On other days, when you’re busy doing something else, he would crawl onto your lap, grinding his ass against your dick to get your attention, or directly palm you through your pants when he thinks no one is looking. If he wants something, he’ll get it.

You weren’t one to deny him of his monstrous sex drive, despite the fact that he could quite literally have you take him anywhere. Secluded alleyways, the crow’s nest, even the damn kitchen—he had tried to rile you up one time while you were pouring yourself a drink, bending over the kitchen counter with a nasty, nasty expression.

His elbows were perched on the counter with his ass facing you, and he was biting his lip, face flushing, forming an obscene expression as he looked at you heatedly over his shoulder.

“Somethin’ the matter?” You scoffed at the audacity. “What do you think you’re doing?” Zoro propped his head on his fist. “Standing.” You sent him a look of disapproval. “Zoro. Sanji’ll kill us. You know that.” He smirked at this. “Like that scrawny love-cook could.” Your eyes flitted over to the doorknob uncertainly, only to find it locked. The little shit had planned this. Of course he did. “Are you g’na make me wait?” He pushed his hips towards you, back arching a little. “Didn’t wear any underwear for you.”

He knew exactly what to say to turn you on, not that you weren’t hard enough already—and as much as you hated it sometimes, there was an aggravating part of you that loved it.

“Fuck it,” you swore, ripping off your belt and hurrying over to yank down his pants, and he gave a delighted shiver, knowing he had won.

Sex with Zoro was almost animalistic, and it made sense that his favourite positions were either mating press, or doggy-style.

He liked having you take care of him, and occasionally he’d ask you you to fuck him until he fell asleep, but it didn’t mean that he had to play an entirely passive role in your sex life. You’d watch him take you so well, almost like he was made for it, moaning and cursing so shamelessly as he brutally thrusted back against your hips, letting you know how good you were making him feel.

(You’d gotten several complaints by the crew from the sheer amount of noise the two of you would make during sex. No one wanted to know how big your cock was, or how tight his hole was milking you.)

He’d let you bite him all over his back—the symbol of his pride, and it was such a turn on to know that you were the only one who could leave scars there. And it was the same for you, too: at times, when he wakes up before you, you’d feel a finger trailing the scratch marks he left all over your back and shoulders the night before, and you would hear a pleased hum as he finds one that had been scarred into skin.

On other days, though, he’d prefer making love with you. To have you as close as possible during sex, arms wound around your neck and legs securing your waist in place, letting out breathy whines into your ear as you ground the fat tip of your cock into his prostate.

“I’m so fuckin’ close,” he’d whimper, but you’d wait it out instead of going harder and faster like he wanted, and you knew he needed to learn this—losing control. And by the end of the night he would be trembling and sobbing in your arms as you whispered comforting phrases, telling him how good he was for waiting before giving him his reward.

Both of you are still learning, and your relationship isn’t perfect, but you’ve grown to notice and take care of each other’s wants and needs, making the most of your time spent together, and that was more than enough.

SANJI Falling in love with Sanji was one of the things you once feared the most, and yet the outcome made you the happiest man alive.

You had known that he wouldn’t reciprocate your feelings, but you couldn’t stop the way your affection for him seeped out in small glances, compliments—whether on the food he made for you or the way he dressed, and brief touches here and there, and the blush that bloomed on his cheeks whenever you did so just confused you even more.

It wasn’t easy building up the courage to confess your feelings for him, but on the same night you were prepared to get rejected, he had taken liquid courage and had sort of marched towards you to grab your face and plant a firm kiss on your lips, eyes squeezed shut and slightly trembling. And that cued the beginning of your relationship.

At first, he was, surprisingly, extremely unused to people flirting back with him, often getting flustered whenever you responded to a suggestive remark with a toe-curling kiss, or a bold touch that left goosebumps in its wake. He had always welcomed the use of pet names, though—sweetheart, darling, babe, love—the cheesier, the more he liked.

Over the months, you found out that Sanji is an extremely attentive lover. It doesn’t matter if it was regarding food or your health, before you say the word, he’ll already have it prepared for you.

“Hungry, sweetheart?” “Not really. But thank you.” “Tired? Want to cuddle?” “... After I finish my work, then yeah, please.” You smiled at him—already lying on the bed, in his pyjamas, waiting for you to finish and spoon him.

He would make special desserts for you after meals, keeping it hidden from Luffy and the others in a locked section of the refrigerator that only the both of you could access. Afterwards, as a way of saying thank you to him, you would french-kiss him with sweetness still lingering on your tongue. He found himself looking forward to those kisses. They were special to him.

Another thing is that Sanji’s very good with his hands, so oftentimes you would find yourself in the tub with him gently massaging your shoulders and your scalp, not stopping until he’s satisfied with the string of appreciative noises you make. You would offer to help him, but he tells you every time that he’s all good with just pleasing you—knowing very well that his body wouldn’t be able to handle such an intimate massage from you.

Jealousy was something the both of you couldn’t handle that well—one of the major things that needed fixing in your relationship. You knew he wasn’t going to give up on flirting with every beautiful woman he had an interaction with—that was imbued into his personality—but that didn’t mean you didn’t have a right to get possessive.

One time at a bar, instead of Sanji initiating the flirting as usual, a redhead strode up to him, touched him in front of you, and pressed a kiss to his lips with a sultry smile. Sanji froze, unable to react in time, and the eye that peeked over to look at you was full of guilt and something else.

That night, you had bent him over your lap and spanked him so hard he had turned into a blubbering mess of “more” and “too much”, crying and telling you he was sorry, that he wouldn’t let it happen again. By the time you were done with him, he had passed out with the mattress under him drenched with white, his flaccid dick telling you that he had came untouched. You cleaned him up and laid him on your shared bed, lying on the opposite side with a heavy heart.

In the morning, you woke up to Sanji lying in your arms, his eyelids red and swollen, lips chapped. When he woke up, he had sincerely apologised, telling you that he had been genuinely so afraid of you leaving him.

Since then, he’s only had eyes for you, even being less affectionate to Nami and Robin than usual—but one could notice him stealing dumb, lovesick glances at you, or the quirk of his eyebrow every time you spoke up, or his rare smile when you caught his eye across the room.

Sex with Sanji depended on the mood. He was always up to trying new things—even going so far as to propose them himself.

Sometimes, he’d borrow lipstick from Nami to apply all over his lips, only to press open-mouthed kisses to your pulse, claiming your heartbeat.

The first time you saw him with lipstick on, it felt like a fever dream.

“Are you wearing lipstick?” “Yeah. Do you like it?” “You’re so fucking hot.”

You were insanely into it. Next moment he was riding you slow with a cigarette between his full lips, staining the filter with a lovely dark red before placing it in your mouth in an indirect kiss.

At some point you got tired of all the smoke, and decided to topple him over onto the bed so you could fuck him properly. He was gasping for air by then, and was forced to put out the cigarette out on the ashtray nearby, soft whiny moans punched out of him as he bewailed at the loss of it.

“D-darling! Slow down—that was a perfectly—fine, hngh, cigarette—!” “It was distracting you.” “You’re—you’re the one who decided to jump me when I was—!” “Not my fault you decided to wear lipstick, love.” “Ah, just shut up n’ kiss me—”

You bent down to kiss him with a grin, muffling his whimpers as he mumbled something about going to come soon. There were lipstick smudges all over your lips and face, and you revelled in the taste of sugar sweet mixed with the heavier, dull scent of tobacco. It should be disgusting—but he tasted heavenly to you.

You groaned as he felt his walls grip you so suddenly, your impending orgasm crashing down onto you like magma stirring in your core. As your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, you had an epiphany.

Sanji wore lipstick for a reason.

The way he used to constantly flirt with women and his habit of smoking were the parts of himself that Sanji was willing to give up for you. Learning to be attentive and figuring out your likes and peeves were parts of himself that he acquired for you.

Now, they were all bits and pieces of the man you were in a happy relationship with, the man you loved more than anything else in the world.

And if Sanji was willing to give up himself for you, then you would do the same, for him. masterlist! p.s. fixed!

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somedayillbepeterpan · 8 hours

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I legit don’t know how many times I’ve watched the carriage scene. All I know is on the 2nd week of waiting,I have managed to watch this particular scene the whole night yesterday.

WHERE HAS MY LIFE GONE TO?? I need someone to rescue me.

#i’ve watched it so many times #i know where each moans are #brain is rotting well and good #i’m riding this wave to oblivion #polin #bridgerton #netflix #nicola coughlan #luke newton #bridgerton seaosn 3 #bridgerton season three #netflix bridgerton #bridgerton s3 #bridgerton season 3 #colin bridgerton #colin x penelope #penelope x colin #penelope featherington

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zaisamoo · 14 hours

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more soukoku. ok i swear my next post will be an actual and colored drawing that isnt soukoku

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zaldritzosrose · 1 day

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Can't Stay Away (Feyd-Rautha x Princess!Reader)

Summary: Second daughter of the Emperor and you were well used to being ignored in favour of your sister. That was, until you met Feyd-Rautha, nephew to the Harkonnen Baron. A tourney of old, bringing back the traditions of champions and favours brought him to your side - but how close would he stay?

TW: Minors DNI, She/Her pronouns, afab reader, mild mentions of neglect towards reader (ignored in favour of Irulan), Feyd being a flirt, hot and heavy making out, fingering, lashings of sexual tension.

I've taken a couple of liberties with the veils the Bene Gesserit/Irulan seem to wear - making it an honour to see a Sister/Princess' face and given meaning to the paint on Feyd before the arena...because why not it's my story!

(There will be a part 2...maybe 3...I have no self control)

Words: 3508

THANK YOU to @tumblin-theworldaway for not only being patient over this but for listening to my months of related brain rot! I love you!

Being second to the Imperial heir had not always felt like a task. As a child, you did not mind being sent off to other tasks while Irulan was coached in the ways of an Empress. Your father had you both trained in the ways of the Bene Gesserit, and as a child it made you feel incredibly important. Being at the Reverend Mother’s side, and at times the only time you were ever praised for something you had achieved.

But the older you got, the more the feeling of being ignored crept in. Men would seek out Irulan's favour, not yours. Visitors would spend hours speaking to the elder princess before speaking to you. Irulan was the interesting one. She was heir, it made sense for her to be the one they wished to gain the favour of.

Second daughter, second best. You understood it, deep down, but that did not stop the hurt it caused.

Despite this, you always accompanied your father and sister on the planetary tours, following along as the Emperor would visit all his people and be lavished with grand feasts and parties as a welcome. Every House from Arrakis to Zanovar were granted a visit from their Emperor, some were happier about it than others.

Despite the tensions on Arrakis, the word of the ‘Messiah’ reaching the Emperor’s ears and being ignored and the rumours that the Emperor had ordered the end of House Atreides, the Imperial Tours continued.

Giedi Prime was the next stop. The home of the Harkonnens. You had heard of the Harkonnens. Fearsome warriors. Terrifying. Bloodthirsty. Brutal. In all honesty, they had fascinated you for the longest time. The manipulations that led to their rise. Their bloodstained history with House Atreides. You had read as much as you had been able to find.

And their welcome? A tournament, a battle of strength and brutality to impress their Emperor. Harking back to days of old when knights would compete in feats of battle prowess to show off. Men from all the Great Houses and more came to compete, including Feyd-Rautha. The Baron's nephew did not hesitate to volunteer to represent his people in something so prestigious.

The Imperial Ship landed and you, your sister and the Emperor were quickly greeted by the Baron and his nephews. You stood to your father’s left, Irulan at his right. Feyd’s eyes stayed on you, though you had not noticed yet. Trailing from the gold and pearl veil over your face, down to the matching white lace and gold dress that both clung and flowed over your body perfectly. He glanced briefly at Irulan, her silver and chainmail contrasting you, but his eyes ultimately returned to you.

"Your Imperial Graces, may I introduce my nephews," the Baron began, gesturing first to his elder nephew and then the younger as he spoke.

"Beast-Rabban and Feyd-Rautha."

Both men bowed, following their uncle's lead. First to the Emperor, then Irulan and then you. The order of importance seemed clear, as usual. But as his head raised, Feyd met your gaze and held it. Cool blue eyes boring into yours and you could not look away.

Your father nodded his head in thanks as did Irulan, but you...

You still stared at Feyd. Something about him, the way he held your gaze. The faint smirk forming on his lips. You could not do anything but stare.

His smile widened, black painted teeth on show as he stepped forward and taking your hand in his, a gesture that shocked even you. His lips found the back of it, pressing a surprisingly gentle but lingering kiss to your skin. No one ever focused on you like this, not when you stood by Irulan. It was something you had gotten quite accustomed to.

But the rough scratch of his fingers around yours, the heat of his lips on your skin, was enough to have you blushing. Then he spoke. His voice low, sending a shiver down your spine.

"A pleasure to meet you, princess."

The Emperor and the Baron led you, Irulan and the Baron’s nephews back inside the Harkonnen fortress. Despite trying not to, your focus always seemed to return to Feyd. The way he moved with confidence, the small glances he gave you with that smirk still on his lips.

Irulan was at your father’s side, as usual. Rabban walked beside the Baron. Which left you and Feyd behind that line. You were not purposely walking at his side, but you soon noticed that Feyd had fallen into step with you. Slowing his pace to match yours.

You kept your gaze forward, but you could feel his eyes on you. Like a predator and you were no more than prey. You knew you would be the one to break the silence before Feyd did.

“Are you looking forward to the tournament, Feyd?” You asked, glancing to the side to see him, as expected, staring at you as he walked.

Feyd hummed low in response before answering. You began to wonder how he was being so mindful of where he was going, whilst keeping his eyes on you.

“A fight is always welcome, princess. Are you excited for it?”

You did not answer immediately. No answer you gave, you felt, was ever interesting enough. Or at least, not in your past experiences. But, to your surprise, Feyd seemed genuinely interested.

“I am intrigued, to say the least. It is not often a House welcomes us with such an event.”

Feyd only nodded, before holding out his hand to stop you moving further forward. It was only then that you noticed you had reached the doors to the Harkonnen fortress. You had been so distracted by the man beside you, you had ignored your surroundings.

“After you, princess,” Feyd offered, holding out an arm to allow you to walk ahead.

You walked on, hearing Feyd’s boots against the floor behind you. Your father, sister and the Baron and his nephew were ahead of you. And your father had not looked back once to check on you, something you were well used to. But Feyd had noticed too.

His head tilted in curiosity but said nothing on the topic. He followed you inside, eyes glancing occasionally between you and your father, noticing the seemingly longing look you held. As the Baron led the Emperor and Irulan into the dining hall, you seemed to hang back, like you were waiting for permission to follow them.

When that did not come, you folded your hands before you and turned from the door.

“Are you not joining them?” Feyd asked, genuinely surprised at the situation.

Your head hung low, and you simply shook it.

“Not if I am not invited. Irulan is heir, not I,” You said simply and began walking away without a second glance.

You assumed Feyd would join his uncle and brother. But the sound of footsteps behind you told you otherwise. You did not look back as you walked, though in truth, you had no idea where you were walking to. You simply wished to be away. Feyd followed silently, only interfering when he felt the need to steer you somewhere specific.

“Princess, follow me, I have somewhere more comfortable you could wait over walking the halls?”

Feyd was not sure why, but he felt the need to be at your side. A strange draw that seemed to tug at his gut and keep him at your side. He was a man of pleasure, or so most people said. He held little care for the feelings of others.

Yet with you, he wanted to know. No, he needed to know. To know what bothered you. To know why your eyes dipped to the floor after looking at your father and sister. Why you seemed surprised from the moment he paid you attention upon your arrival. He was curious as to why you seemed to try to hide your presence at any given moment.

But he said nothing. He would not even know where to begin if he wanted to. Instead, he walked in silence, leading you to a wide balcony that looked out on to the expanse of Giedi Prime.

You took your seat and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence until you were called by one of your father’s attendants.

You listened politely as you walked beside your sister, Irulan’s arm linked with yours this time as you followed your father and the Baron towards the arena. Irulan talked on about how the tournament would work, that you, her and some other noble ladies from the Houses would choose their own champion to fight the tournament in their name.

It reminded you of the tourneys of old. Where knights fought for princesses and ladies to win favour. You had read so many stories, fairytales of times that were now a faraway memory. The idea fascinated you as much as the Harkonnens did. You were about to ask Irulan more, when your father turned to speak. To both of you, for once.

“My daughters, you will allow the ladies from the Great Houses to choose their champions, then you will choose.”

That confused you both, but you had little choice but to agree. He was the Emperor first, your father second.

You watched warriors from each Great House and some minor Houses line up before you, Irulan and the other gathered ladies with interest. And you could not hide your smile when Feyd stepped forward and joined them.

One by one, champions were picked. Irulan chose first out of the two of you, not surprisingly choosing a Corrino soldier as her champion. There were more warriors than ladies to choose, and Feyd remained in those waiting. That surprised you. He was known for his fighting ability, so you did not understand why he had not been chosen. Which only solidified your own choice.

“Princess, your choice of champion please?” the Harkonnen announcer asked, gesturing to the men before you.

Purely for the suspense, you paused before answering. Mere seconds, allowing you to enjoy the small amount of attention focused solely on you.

“I choose Feyd-Rautha.”

Everyone looked shocked, including your father and sister. Everyone, but Feyd. His smirk wide as he stepped forward, taking your hand as he had when you arrived. Eyes locked to yours as he pressed his lips to your knuckles.

“I shall win well for you, my princess.”

You were not sure if it was traditional, but Feyd had asked you to see him before the tournament. A guard led you silently to a round chamber, with only a black stone table in the centre, holding weapons of different kinds. You stood out so starkly against the black stone, the faint lights making the pearls on your veil shimmer ever so slightly.

Feyd was stood in the centre, and you could feel the heat in your cheeks you realised he wore only an intricately wrapped loin cloth.

“Princess, I appreciate you agreeing to come,” Feyd called as he strode to your side.

He smirked as he watched you avert your gaze from his bare chest. In his hand, he held a bowl of what looked like black paint. It was only when he tapped the stone bowl did your eyes find it. You looked back at him curiously.

“You are my champion, it would be rude not to,” you said softly, your eyes still looking at the bowl.

It was only then that you noticed there was no one else in the room. Something that seemed extremely unusual.

“Do you normally prepare for a fight alone?” you asked, eyes flitting around the room and back to him, now trained solely on his face.

Feyd chuckled, a low, gravelly sound that you found yourself wanting to hear again.

“No, usually I am surrounded by servants and guards. But I thought I would try something different today. It’s a special day after all.”

He held the bowl up, tipping it slightly to move the paint. Your eyes watched it with interest, it slowly dawning on you what it was for. You had read up on the Harkonnens and Giedi Prime before you arrived, there was more lore to research than you had anticipated. One thing, now, came to your mind.

“Am I to paint you, Feyd?”

That earned you another chuckle. Though Feyd was actually quite surprised you knew of any Harkonnen traditions.

“I thought it would be interesting, to prepare your champion for battle, hmm?” he asked, holding the bowl out to you, careful however not to get the ink black liquid on your white dress.

You nodded, confusing him when you turned away from him. But what you did next, was not what he expected. Slowly, you lifted the veil that had covered your face since your arrival. Finally revealing your full appearance to him.

And you were beautiful.

“Then I suppose it is only fair I let you look at me while I do so.”

What Feyd did not realise, was the importance of what seemed like a small gesture. Almost all those trained by the Bene Gesserit veiled themselves in some way. The Princesses most of all. But Feyd knew even now, he was being honoured by you.

“Thank you, princess.” Was all he could manage, any words he said would never be quite enough, he felt.

You returned to his side, only now looking down at the full form of him. Thick muscle covered him from shoulder and down. A body sculpted for war, it seemed. And it was now a body that would fight in your name.

Feyd held out the bowl, watching with curious eyes as you took it and moved to stand at his back. He opened his mouth to instruct you but was stopped by the cold sensation of paint on his skin. You felt him stiffen a little and continued to paint as you explained.

“I have done my research before coming here. My father always tells me it is best to know our hosts,” you said simply, as if that should be enough to explain why you so easily began painting him.

He said nothing as you finished his back, the feeling of the paint drying telling him where you had painted each square and line. It fascinated him that you had so quickly learned the symbols necessary.

But when you moved to his front, he felt a wave of anticipation run through him. Tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he waited for you to begin. He could feel the warmth of your hands more intensely now he could see you.

You started on his chest, painting the four thick lines on his pectorals first. He watched the concentration on your face, the way your teeth gently nibbled your lower lip as your made sure every stroke was perfect.

You could feel his eyes on you, but you did not dare look up. The whole situation was intimate enough, without meeting his gaze. Feyd heard the soft breath you took to prepare yourself as you moved lower, pausing only briefly before you began to paint his stomach.

“Do you really believe these help you?” you suddenly asked, as though distracting yourself from the path your fingers took over the ridges of hid abdominals.

Feyd’s jaw clenched at the gentleness of your touch, the feeling sending goosebumps over his pale skin. He did his best to concentrate on answering your question about the symbols.

“It is the belief in them that makes them important, so yes, I do.”

You hummed in response, and Feyd’s breath caught in his throat when you began to kneel as your painted nearer his hips.

The tension in the air was thick. No sounds in the room except the scrape of your fingers against the bowl and the soft puffs of your combined breathing. Feyd tried his best to concentrate solely on the paint being smeared on his skin, but having you so close had desire settling in his belly.

Soon, you were done.

“There, I hope I have done a good enough job…” Feyd smiled at the mix of hope and pride in your eyes. But when you moved to take your hand away from his skin, he grabbed it quickly. His body acting on instinct and the words leaving him before his brain could control them.

“Would I be too forward in asking for a kiss, princess. For luck?”

You were struck silent by the question, but an aching part of you began urging you to allow him one kiss. No harm could come from it, right?

Tentatively, you stepped forward after setting bowl down on a table nearby. You pressed your lips softly to his cheek, letting them linger for mere seconds. But that was not what Feyd wanted.

You had barely stepped back before his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. He revelled in the small squeak of surprise that left you and he appreciated the fact you were not trying to push him away.

Your face was mere inches from his as his hand moved to cup your cheek, tilting your head up to his as he pressed him plump lips to yours. The feeling was electric the moment your lips met, your own hand gripping the back of his neck. Not caring for the paint that was now smeared down the skin there.

You pressed yourself harder against him, letting your body mould to his as he deepened the kiss. Tongue swiping against the flesh of your lip, asking for entry which you happily granted. The moment his tongue found yours, Feyd was like a man possessed. Gripping your face tighter as your tongue soon surrendered to his, tangling together in a clash of teeth.

The paint on his body, barely dried, smeared against your dress but you could not have cared less. Your only thoughts were Feyd. The feel of his arm on your waist and hand on your face. The taste of him, combined with the black paint on his teeth. You were entirely intoxicated by him.

You were not sure when he had backed you towards the table, but you did not stop him when he lifted you quickly on to it. There was something so delicious about the danger of the whole situation. While realistically, you barely knew him, you could feel your body surrendering to every kiss and touch. The very fibres of you desperate to feel more of him already.

Feyd groaned into your mouth when you made space for him to slip between your legs, your dress parting either side to accommodate the movement. His hands took purchase your thighs while yours found his shoulders. Your paint-stained fingers leaving fingerprints all over his alabaster skin.

The room felt like it had heated as his lips began to trail down your jaw and to your neck, following a path until he reached the swell of your breasts, just visible with the cut of your dress. His hands kneading the flesh of your thighs, the combination forcing breathy moans to slip from your lips.

Feyd revelled in every one of them. The dig of nails into his shoulder when he nipped at your collarbone, the soft moan when his hands found the apex of your thighs and squeezed.

“I will win for you, my princess…” he mumbled, his face buried in your neck as his fingers continued their path to your core.

And you were powerless to stop him, your body listening now solely to your base instincts. The first brush of his fingers over your underwear had your head falling back.

“Win for me, and I will reward you…” you sighed out, as his fingers slipped deftly beneath the fabric.

Feyd could barely concentrate on your promise, slipping his fingers further and further between your folds until he was buried to the knuckles. The smallest curl of the digits had you moaning his name.

“Reward me how?” he asked, already feeling your soft walls clenching around him as your release crept forward.

He could barely help himself, thrusting and curling his fingers over and over. Feeling the soft gush of your slick coating his fingers and palm with each movement.

You could hardly form words, Feyd’s fingers somehow speeding up again. You could only moan as you release surprised you, tugging Feyd by neck to kiss him as you spilled around his fingers.

He slowed his movements as you relaxed, not pulling them out until he could feel your muscles stop spasming. Your jaw went slack as you saw him reach for the bowl of paint, mixing your juices with the black liquid and painting over the now smudged symbols you had adorned him with. The smug grin on his face making your skin tingle.

You slowly came back to yourself, eyes meeting his as you finally answered.

“Win for me, and you can have any part of me you wish.”

Dune Taglist (requested and people I know who like Dune):

@blissfulphilospher @tumblin-theworldaway @lady-phasma @anjelicawrites @aemondsbabe @alexagirlie

(if you want to be tagged in or removed from future posts, let me know!)

#feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha smut #feyd x you #x reader smut #x reader insert #dune fanfiction #feyd smut

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