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prythiansprincess · 2 months ago

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DELIRIUM | a stalker! theo au.

"you're so fucking special; I wish I was special."

word count: 5,662.

warnings: please read all trigger warnings before proceeding. dead dove do not eat, noncon, murder, coercion, stalking, assault, manipulation, gaslighting, knife play, blood play, abusive behavior.

author's note: I don't say it lightly when I say that this fic is very dark. I fully understand that the topics and themes discussed are not for everyone, so please be mindful of the warnings before engaging. special thanks to @writingsbychlo for proofreading and encouraging my over all psychophathy.

♫ creep - radiohead. nav. stalker! theo.

There was something wrong with Theo Nott.

Perhaps it was a result of his traumatic upbringing or perhaps it was simply encrypted into his genetic code, but whether nature or nurture was to be blamed, this simple truth was certain: a sick, twisted, and insatiable monster lurked within him and its hunger could be satiated by one thing and one thing only — you.

In the deepest and darkest depths of his inky black heart, Theo knew that he was completely and utterly fucked up. This thing inside of him — this madness — rendered him incapable of forming healthy relationships. Time and time again, his passions and proclivities hinted towards a more sinister nature. Some called him deranged, delirious, delusional, but Theo simply thought of himself as a hopeless romantic.

Theo was not the type of man to harbor a crush or entertain a fling or succumb to a fleeting infatuation that eventually faded over time. When he loved, he loved with his entire being. He loved until it became a fixation, a compulsion, an obsession. This has and always will be his fatal flaw.

From a young age, Theo learned that he was not normal. When he presented Pansy Parkinson with the front teeth of the boy who dared knock her off the swings, that was not normal. When he gifted Daphne Greengrass the rotting carcass of a bird that had kept her up with the incessant tapping of its beak against her bedroom window, that was not normal. When he offered to carve the initials of Mattheo Riddle into his skin to prove his loyalty, that was not normal.

Theo was bereft when his friends cried and fled from him, feeling distraught and disappointed by their reactions. After all, he had only done those things to make them happy. Why couldn’t they see that?

When his mother found him crying in the Nott Manor gardens, she explained to him that he was a very special boy. That his capacity for love would be misunderstood by those around him because they simply could not feel the way that he did. The intensity of his emotions surpassed their understanding; they didn’t know what it was like to be irrevocably consumed by love. His devotion could be misconstrued, his affection scorned, which is why it became imperative for Theo to shield himself from the world until the right person came along.

So, he conformed, he adapted, he survived, but Theo knew it was only a matter of time before his carefully constructed mask slipped.

In the back of a crowded restaurant, Theo swirled the glass of wine in his hand before taking a long sip. The waiter had recommended the red vintage, droning on and on about the quality of the 1978 Barolo Montorfino and the meticulous aging process of the Nebbiolo grapes to produce this particular bottle. Theo fought the urge to roll his eyes. He already knew all of this, given that the wine was produced by his family’s vineyard in the Italian countryside.

The complex flavor danced on his tongue. On any other occasion, he might have savored the hints of cherry, roses, and truffle peeking through its rich-bodied profile, but Theo tasted nothing but ash in his mouth. Because across the rooftop sat the woman of his dreams, drinking and laughing and dining with another man. Theo gripped the stem of his glass until his knuckles turned white.

Needless to say, the night was not going as Theo intended it to. It was supposed to be him feeding you little bites of tagliatelle, topping your wine off with a wink, and listening to your melodious voice recount silly anecdotes about yourself. Instead, Adrian fucking Pucey was blattering on like a bloody twat, failing to appreciate the goddess seated across from him. The stupid prick was probably too busy gauging whether or not he was going to get lucky tonight. As if Theo would ever let that happen.

No, that simply wouldn’t do.

Sure, he had enjoyed the game of cat and mouse between you over the past few months. Since the day you moved into the house next to his, there had been this constant push and pull between you. The flirtatious banter as he helped you carry your dresser into the foyer after he found you struggling in the yard, the freshly baked goods you presented to him as thanks after the fact, the shy way you smiled at him every time you crossed paths when you departed and arrived back home.

Something awakened within him the second he laid eyes on you. Something dark, something dangerous, something that he thought was long buried in the depths of his depraved soul.

It wasn’t all in his head. Hell, you had invited him in on that very first day. You wanted him there. You wanted him near you. You wanted him.

All the darkness that he tried so hard to push down seemed to resurface all at once. Suddenly, Theo found himself falling back into old old habits. Watching you through your bedroom window while you undressed, sneaking into your house while you were away at work, planting cameras in every room without your knowledge, and even going so far as stealing your lingerie.

But Theo wasn’t stalking you.

No.

He was merely keeping an eye on you.

Clearly, you needed someone to look after you if you were putting your trust in a man like Adrian Pucey. You were too soft and sweet and innocent for this world. Theo wanted to protect you. In his eyes, Pucey was a threat to your relationship and there was only one way to deal with a threat — eliminate it.

The opportunity presented itself after that sordid dinner. After dessert was served, Theo quietly slipped out ahead of the happy couple. Well, the two of you wouldn’t be happy for long. Not if he had anything to do with it.

Surrounded by silence and darkness, Theo laid in wait until he heard the tell-tale sounds of the front door unlocking. He observed in quiet rage as Adrian kissed his girl. The door snicked shut, but the two of you barely noticed as you stumbled through the foyer, his lips sucking at your neck, his hands roaming underneath your dress, his cock pressing against your core as you mewled for him. Theo couldn’t stomach a second more of this. The sound of Pucey’s name falling from your lips was enough to awaken the monster within him.

A sickening thud echoed through the house as Pucey dropped to the floor. With wide eyes, you scrambled in the darkness, blinking in disbelief at the sight before you. The silk strap of your dress fell from your shoulders at the abruptness of the attack. Your pupils, which were previously blown from desire, now shifted into fear.

“T — Theo?” Disbelief colored your expression as you looked up at your neighbor. Dressed in all black, his tall and lithe form blended in with his surroundings. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t really think I’d let this prick weasel his way into your bed, did you?”

You blinked in confusion. On the floor of your living room, Adrian nursed his broken nose, trying and failing to staunch the blood flowing through his fingers.

“Do you know this asshole, Y/N?”

“He’s my neighbor,” you answered. Theo’s face twisted in anger at your response. You cowered under his gaze and scooted backwards against the wall. “Theo, what’s going on? Why are you doing this?”

Theo sneered. “Isn’t it obvious, bella?” Your blood ran cold when a flash of silver appeared in his hand. “I know why you went on this date tonight. You wanted me to fight for you, so here I am. I love you and I won’t let anyone keep us apart.”

“What are you talking about, Theo?” You cried as he stalked towards you. “I barely know you. We’re neighbors, just neighbors, that’s all.” You pleaded, begging for him to listen to reason. “Please, just stop this. You don’t have to do any of this.”

“Shh, my sweet Y/N,” Theo cooed as he wiped a stray tear away with his thumb. His blue eyes bore into you with such intensity that it made you shiver. There was something lurking behind that dead eyed stare and you feared for whatever it might unleash.

Theo caressed your cheek with reverence while you trembled in fear. “You just don’t know any better, cara mia. But don’t worry, I’ll show you how much I love you. I’ll protect you; I’ll keep you safe.” He pressed his forehead against yours. “I’m going to take care of this. He will never come between us again.”

Before you could protest, Theo had already rounded on Adrian. The brunette threw his hands up as Theo pulled him up by his collar. “I almost feel sorry for you, you know,” Theo taunted. “You probably thought you were so smart, preying on someone as sweet and innocent as Y/N. You never deserved her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Adrian retorted, crimson staining his dress shirt as he struggled against his captor’s hold. “It was just a few harmless dates.”

“A few harmless dates?” Theo repeated in a mocking tone. “Christ, you can’t truly be that stupid, can you? You don’t even understand how lucky you are to have gotten the chance to be in her company. She’s a fucking goddess and you — “ Adrian groaned when Theo yanked his hair back to give him a proper view of you. “Well, you’re nothing.”

“Look man, I don’t want any trouble. I didn’t know she had a boyfriend. I was just lookin for an easy fuck — “

Fury simmered in Theo’s gaze. The careless words that Adrian spoke cut you deep, but not nearly as deep as the blade that sliced his throat open. The crimson river flowing from Adrian’s neck bathed Theo in blood, covering his face, his hair, and his clothes.

You screamed as Adrian slumped to the floor, his lifeless body discarded onto your cream rug as his vacant gaze stared at nothing. The gravity of his death sent a surge of adrenaline in your veins. You needed to get the fuck away, The instinct to survive kicked in and you darted for the door, but unfortunately, Theo was quicker.

A strong arm wrapped around your waist, hauling you away from your only form of escape. You struggled in his hold, clawing and kicking and screaming as Theo dragged you through the living room.

“You killed him!” You screamed while you continued thrashing. “He’s dead, you killed him, oh my god — “

“Don’t be like that, cara mia,” Theo said in a soothing voice. “I thought you would be happy. With our little problem out of the way, we can finally be together.”

“You’re a fucking psychopath!”

With a swift kick to the balls, Theo stumbled backwards which gave you time to frantically reach for your purse. The slick blood that coated the wooden floors now sullied your dress, but you pushed the thought away as you recovered your phone. As you tapped on the screen, it came alive with a bright light. With shaking hands, you tried to swipe up to dial emergency services, but the screen buzzed with static before completely dying out.

“No!” You screamed in frustration as you pressed the dead screen over and over again. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening!”

Behind you, Theo sighed and shook his head in disappointment. Crouching down before you, the warmth of his palm felt like a slap to the face as he cradled your jaw.

“You’ve been a bad girl, bella,” Theo purred. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but you’ve left me no choice.”

Your eyes widened as he produced a set of handcuffs from his pocket. “No, please, you don’t have to do this. Just let me go and I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

“Let you go?” Theo repeated in a cold, menacing voice as he clamped the handcuffs over your wrists. “After all that I’ve done for you, do you really think I would be capable of just letting you go?” He tutted in disapproval as he tugged you towards the stairs. “You’re all mine now, you’re not going anywhere.”

The short walk to your bedroom felt like a march towards death. You began to shake violently as Theo guided you towards the bed, instructing you to lie down as he tinkered with the handcuffs. Tears blurred your vision as your heart hammered against your ribcage.

“Are you going to kill me?” you whispered.

“Don’t be stupid,” Theo said with a scoff as he rearranged the cuffs and chained you to the bed. “You wouldn’t be any fun if you’re dead.”

Fear gripped every fiber of your being in a chokehold. Theo leaned back and admired his work. The intensity of his gaze felt like a brand against your skin as he drank in the sight of you spread out for him. The silk of your dress was stained with blood, the fabric nearly see through from how soaked it was.

“You’re such a pretty little thing all tied up like a present for me, principessa.”

His blue eyes were nearly black as he gazed at you with unadulterated desire. The pale moonlight streaming through the window casted sinister shadows on his face.

“If you’re not going to kill me, then what do you plan on doing?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” Theo declared with a deranged smile as he brandished his knife. “I plan on worshipping every inch of your body.” The cold edge of his blade traced the curve of your jaw. “I plan on making you see God with my tongue, my fingers, my cock.” The knife continued its path down the valley of your breasts. “I plan on possessing you, owning you, and ruining you for every other man.”

“You barely even know me,” you pleaded, shying away from the blade that now rested on the hem of your dress. “I’m not yours, Theo.”

The air left your lungs all at once as his hand wrapped around your throat. The lack of oxygen made you dizzy and you grew limp against the bed, barely even registering the blade caressing your skin.

“I’ll carve my name into your thigh if that’s what it takes to get it through your pretty little head that you are mine.”

You coughed as he released his hold, disoriented by the sudden rush of air into your lungs. “Don’t touch me! Don’t fucking touch me, oh fuck —“

Your hips jerked at the sudden cold sensation between your legs. Theo watched in amusement as he pressed the hilt of his blade against your clothed core, drinking in the way you writhed underneath him.

“What was that, bella?” Theo teased. “I can’t hear you over all that moaning.”

Your cheeks burned with shame as you continued his ministrations against your clit. It was a purely physical response, but it felt like your own body was betraying you. This wasn’t supposed to feel good. You hated the way you reacted to his touch, his words, his gaze. You hated him.

“You’re a sick fuck,” you yelled as you tugged at your restraints. Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time, you couldn’t tell if it was from fear or pleasure. “This is vile, this is evil. I hate you. I fucking hate you —“

Theo chuckled darkly as he tugged your panties to the side and slipped the hilt of his blade through your folds without warning. “Then why are you so fucking wet for me?”

“I’m not!” In all your life, you had never felt more degraded and humiliated. The conflicting emotions warred in your mind, but the truth of the matter was that you had absolutely no control over your own arousal. “I’m not.”

“You are,” Theo growled as the handle of his blade squelched in your slick. “But by all means, keep lying to yourself. In fact, I quite prefer it if you put up a fight. I like it rough.”

You groaned, delirious with need as he fucked you with his knife. “When I make you cum, I know that I’ve earned it.”

You bit down on your bottom lip until blood filled your mouth. The horror of the scene unfolding before you filled you with dread yet you couldn’t stop the moans and whines that escaped past your lips. When you looked up, Theo was transfixed by the sight of your greedy cunt taking his knife.

“That’s it, Y/N,” hummed Theo. “This will be a lot easier if you just stop fighting it. You want this. You want me.”

“I — I don’t! I don’t want —“

“I —I don’t want,” Theo mocked. “How fucking pathetic. You can’t even finish that sentence without moaning.” He pulled out his knife and slid two fingers in without warning. His cruel laugh echoed in the bedroom when the sound of your slick filled the silence. “If you don’t want me, then why are you riding my fingers like this, hm?”

There was no answer as he plunged the hilt of his knife into you again, stretching and filling you in the most delicious way. His thumb rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves in tantalizing circles, pushing you towards the edge of pleasure.

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of an orgasm, but it couldn’t be helped. There was no stopping the intense pleasure that barrelled through your body. As you crested over the finish line, your vision went dark. The depravity of the act filled you with mortification and indignity. Theo, on the other hand, looked euphoric.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum,” he whispered softly.

You wanted to claw and scratch and hit him for the way he made you feel. Theo presented the knife to you with reverence. The blade was soaked in blood, but the hilt dripped with your cum. His tongue darted out and licked and lapped at your arousal with long, languid strokes as his eyes rolled back in euphoria. The way he moaned when he tasted you was obscene.

“You taste so sweet,” Theo rasped in a choked groan. “Such a good girl for me.”

This was beyond fucked up.

Theo was beyond fucked up.

You watched in alarm, waiting for disgust to overwhelm your senses, but it never came. Instead, your pussy clenched around nothing at the sight. What the fuck was wrong with you?

Theo leaned over you, his brown curls brushing against your nose as he smirked. “Don’t I get a kiss as a reward for making you feel so good?”

The absence of pleasure finally made you come to your senses. “Fuck you.”

The depth of his blue eyes was swallowed by a void that threatened to suffocate you. The man before you transformed into a monster as he growled and held his knife against your throat. “Let me rephrase that,” he hissed as the blade nicked your skin. “If you don’t kiss me, I’ll slit your fucking throat.”

You whimpered as the blade dug deeper into your neck, causing small droplets of blood to stain your sheets. Theo stared at you with malice, his face hovering a few inches from yours as he waited for your next move. His cool breath fanned over your skin while his lips ghosted over yours.

“Please, Y/N?” Theo pouted as he blinked down at you through his thick, dark lashes. “Just one kiss, please.”

It was apparent that he wanted you to make the first move. As if it would absolve him from this abhorrent act. As if it would exculpate him despite the threat he made on your life if you refused to comply. In some sick, twisted way, you knew that the second your lips touched his, Theo felt absolutely vindicated.

The growl that crawled out of his throat was purely animalistic. It spoke of need, of desire, of lust that had simmered underneath the surface for far too long. The taste of you, soft and supple and sweet, was better than anything Theo could have ever imagined. His cock strained against his pants as he deepened the kiss, tongue sweeping over the seam of your lips to demand entrance.

A part of you wanted to fight back, to pull away from him, but it was nearly impossible when he harshly grabbed your jaw and forced his way in. You opened for him reluctantly, but that was all he needed. Theo was the type of person to take a mile when given an inch. His hands roamed your body while his tongue massaged yours, moaning, panting, licking the roof of your mouth with unabashed glee. Theo squeezed your tits and gripped your hips and wrapped your legs around his waist. He felt like a dog in heat as he rutted himself against your clothed cunt.

Fuck, he was so hard it hurt.

Dazed and drunk with desire, Theo pulled away, his gaze sweeping over your kiss bitten lips and flushed cheeks. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

It was fucking horrible, horrendous, atrocious. You wanted the deepest pits of hell to open up and swallow you whole. Because that kiss had lit a fire in your belly despite your disgust for the man forcing himself on you.

Before you could think twice, you reared back and spit right into his face. Theo blinked in surprise. You expected anger, but amusement greeted you instead. The motherfucker was enjoying this.

“You’re a feisty thing, aren’t you?” Theo drawled as he unclasped his belt. The sight caused panic to grip you from all sides. “Don’t worry, principessa. I’ll fuck the fight right out of you. I will break you until you become the good girl that I know you can be.”

“Theo please, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you sobbed and begged. “Don’t do this, please.”

Theo chuckled darkly. “You’re not sorry,” he said as he cut your dress open with his blade. “But you will be.”

Exposed and vulnerable, you struggled against your restraints as Theo trailed kisses down your torso. His lips were a searing brand against your skin, sucking and biting and marking your skin as though he was staking his claim on your body. His deft fingers unhooked your bra and his pupils were completely black as he ogled your chest.

With his lips latched around your nipple, Theo blinked innocently up at you. “I’m so fucking in love with you,” he murmured as he flicked his tongue over the stiffened peak. “You make me crazy, Y/N.”

You moaned as he sucked fervently, losing himself in the heat of your skin and the scent of your perfume. Roses and vanilla. Sweet and simple, just like his pretty girl. Theo groaned as he lavished your other nipple the same treatment.

There was such reverence and awe in the way that he touched you. For a brief moment, you forgot how truly vile he was because the second his fingers slipped inside of you and curved against that sweet spot, every ounce of common sense abandoned you.

“I bet Adrian would’ve never gotten you this wet, huh?”

Your eyes snapped open at the reminder. Somewhere underneath you, Adrian’s lifeless body was still bleeding out on your wooden floors. “You’re fucking awful — o —oh —“

The involuntary whimper that crawled up your throat was pathetic, but you couldn’t help it. Theo had ripped your panties to shreds and positioned the head of his cock over your folds, teasing and taunting at your entrance as you continued to resist.

“Theo, Theo, please,” you pleaded as he began to breach your cunt. You kicked your legs in the air and tilted your hips away from him, anything to keep him away from you, but it didn’t work.

Theo held your hips down, his large hands forming bruises on your skin. “Stay fucking still,” he growled against your neck before biting down hard.

Shocked, you stopped struggling and cried as the sting broke skin. Theo took the opportunity to push the head of his cock inside of you, making your eyes water from the sheer length of him. He was too big, it didn’t fit, it fucking hurt. But the desperate pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears as Theo fully sheathed himself in your warmth.

“So fucking tight,” Theo grunted as he slowly dragged his cock out of your pussy, entranced at the way your bodies melded together, watching your cunt clench around nothing before slamming all the way in. Your teeth clattered together from the force. “Dio mio, you feel so fucking good. I want to ruin you.”

Once more, he pulled out and pushed into your warmth, savoring the way you squeezed around him. The sensation made you dizzy with desire. Try as you might to fight it, every breach of his cock only stretched and filled you even more, the filthy sound of your pussy squelching with every thrust echoing in the room.

“Wanted this for so long,” Theo grunted. “You have no idea what it’s been like for me, cara mia.” His hips snapped against your ass while he drove deeper and deeper, thick cock kissing the tip of your cervix. “But now I finally get to have you all to myself.”

Your knees buckled, every brush of his cock within your snug walls weakening your resolve as he fucked you into the mattress. His pace was relentless, punishing, and it was all you could do to lose yourself in him completely.

“Don’t fight it, bella.” Theo murmured as he hiked your legs up over his shoulders. “I could be so good to you.” He punctuated his statement with a slam of his hips. “I know everything about you. Probably better than you know yourself. I’ve watched, I’ve waited, I’ve wanted.” Another slam caused you to writhe and arch your back off the bed. “No one else could ever love you like I do.”

A breathy moan pushed its way past your lips without your consent. Self-loathing made you flush with embarrassment; your body was betraying you in the worst way as your own slick dripped down your thighs while Theo angled your hips to sink in deeper. He had spoken true about knowing you better than you knew yourself, because he seemed to know how to caress you, how to kiss you, how to command you until you were teetering off the edge once again.

His long fingers circled your clit, stroking the sensitive bud in the exact same way that he had watched you touch yourself over the past few months. Theo was diligent in every sense of the word; his studious nature pushed him to perfection. The focus in which he devoted into pleasuring you was singular. He was obsessive and possessive; he was determined to make this good for you. His pretty girl deserved nothing but the best.

“You can’t deny that we’re a perfect fit,” he murmured, dead-eyed gaze drinking in the sight of him slipping in and out of you. You tried to avert your gaze, but Theo gripped your chun and forced you to watch. “Look how well you’re taking me. It’s like we were made for each other, my love.”

Words failed you at the heat of the moment and even if you regained the ability to speak, you wouldn’t know what to say. Theo took your silence for submission, his lips pressed against yours, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip while he pounded into you.

The instinct to fight dimmed with each urgent thrust, buried deep within the recesses of your mind. All you could do was moan in pleasure and Theo eagerly drank in every gasp and pant and whimper, studying your face as though he was committing every detail to memory.

“Please, please,” you panted. You weren’t quite sure whether you were begging him to stop or urging him to continue, but either way, Theo seemed to know exactly what you needed.

His kisses were open mouthed and filthy, swallowing your protests with the flick of his tongue. You jerked when Theo slapped your pussy, chuckling against your mouth before he kneaded his thumb against your tender nub harder and faster.

“Theo —“ The realization that your climax was near filled you with both excitement and indignation.

“Be a good girl and come for me, Y/N.”

You clenched as Theo squeezed your throat in his fist, momentarily robbing you of oxygen. Somehow its absence intensified the sensations. The combination of Theo pushing his cock into you again and again while his thumb stroked your clit harder and harder sent you barreling over the edge. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, making your legs shake and your walls spasm around his cock.

“Oh fuck,” Theo cursed, his resolve close to breaking. “Just like that, cara mia. Squeezing me so tight, milking my fucking cock dry.”

Stars burst behind your lids as his balls slapped against your clit, coaxing yet another orgasm out of you. Your mind went fuzzy with static. A faint ringing echoed in your ears while you trembled and convulsed.

“Such a good girl,” Theo grunted as he chased after his own pleasure. You were limp and boneless underneath him, unable to respond save for a pathetic whimper. “I’m going to fill this pretty pussy up with my cum, bella. You’re going to let me, aren’t you?”

You started to shake your head, but Theo paid the action no mind. “Take it, cara mia,” he said forcefully. “Take my cock, take my heart, take all of me.”

Your tits jiggled as he fucked you through his own orgasm, his thrusts growing erratic as he spilled his thick, hot cum inside of you. His eyes rolled back at the thought of filling you and stuffing you full of his seed. It overflowed past your sensitive, puffy folds and dripped down your thighs. Even when he pulled his softening cock out of you, Theo made sure to push it all back in with his fingers. You whimpered at the sensitivity between your legs as he leaned back to admire his work.

Theo seemed to take pity on you, tutting at the red circles around your wrist. “M’gonna take the cuffs off now, okay, bella?”

You nodded, trembling slightly when he finally unchained you from the bed. Theo cooed over your raw wrists, kissing and fawning over the sensitive skin. Taking full advantage of the distraction, you snatched the knife Theo had carelessly discarded by his thigh and drove the blade into his shoulder.

Theo hissed in surprise, his blue eyes widening. “You fucking stabbed me,” he declared incredulously. “You really fucking stabbed me.”

“Oh my God —“ you sobbed, regret flooding you all at once as your hands shook over the blade. “Theo, I didn’t mean — fuck, are you okay —“

The shock caused you to let your guard down, tears streaming down your face as the realization of what you had just done crashed over you. Despite the blade sticking out from his shoulder, Theo seamlessly switched positions so that you were straddling his lap.

Your right hand was frozen in place, still holding the blade while shaking violently. You expected anger and fear, but Theo only flashed you a lovesick smile as he wrapped his slender fingers around your wrist. “Don’t be shy, Y/N,” Theo teased. “You can do better than that, can’t you?”

You screamed as Theo drove the blade further into his shoulder, the wound splattering a rain of blood all over your face and hair. “Stop, stop it! Don’t. Theo, stop, please —”

Theo tilted his head and examined you with a curious expression. His gaze softened as you sobbed and trembled in his lap. In his silky voice, he whispered soothing words in your ear and stroked your back to calm your growing hysteria.

“Aw, you’re worried about me? That’s cute, bella.” The timbre of his voice almost sounded proud. “I wouldn’t waste your tears, though. I'll be fine. It’s just a silly little nick. Besides, now that I’ve had you, it won’t be that easy to get rid of me.”

You gasped as his hardness poked against your ass. How could he be fucking hard at a time like this? There was goddamn knife sticking out of his shoulder, for fuck’s sake!

“Look at you, crying over me.” His voice was husky with need as he rolled his erection against you. It seemed that not even a murder attempt could faze the man underneath you. If anything, Theo seemed turned on by it. God, he was so fucked up. “It’s a good sign, bella. It means that you care. To think, just moments ago, you said you hated me, but here you are concerned for my well being.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, refusing to listen to him speak. It only confused you more. Theo kissed your tears away and caressed your cheek. His violation of you earlier was a direct contradiction of the way he handled you with such gentleness and care, almost like you were something precious to him. You couldn’t reconcile the warring versions of him in your mind.

“Please, stop,” you murmured as you tried to cover your ears. “You’re confusing me.”

“There’s nothing to be confused about,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Clearly, you care about me. Otherwise, you would have aimed for my heart.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you whispered in a broken sob. “I just wanted — I wanted —”

In truth, you didn’t know what you wanted. It was all too traumatic and taxing to fully process. Theo pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Shh, hush now, principessa. I told you, I’ll take care of you. You never have to worry about anything ever again. You can trust me, I promise. I would never let anything or anyone hurt you. I’ll kill anyone who tries. I love you so fucking much.”

Theo gently pried your wrists away and kissed your fingertips. “You don’t love me yet,” he admitted in a wistful tone. “But you will, bella.”

#── .✦ stalker! theo. ‧ ₊˚ ⋅#theo nott #theo nott smut #theo nott fic #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine

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austinbutlerslovers · 1 year ago

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Feyd Fantasy Part 2

Baroness & Breeder

Label mature 18+

Summary

Feyd is becoming distracted he can't keep his hands off of you. Every chance he gets he sneaks you away to to satisfy his urges, he is addicted to your sex.

With his Baroness giving him physical pleasure as well as mental counsel the vitality begins to return to his deadened eyes.

Every one in the fortress notices his altered mood and behavior. The only one glaring at the change is his uncle. He raised Feyd with enough brutality and greed to become a ruthless tyrant. Now day by day he hears news from his servants of Feyds brutality slipping away.

With the gladiatorial fights fast approaching it is imperative Feyd is his most ruthless to slaughter the warrior slaves and prove the Harkonnen Valor.

The Baron follows cues from one of Feyds servants to locate him when he can not be summoned.

When the Baron finds you together he secretly spies.

Watching a loving Feyd satisfy you on the table in the grand meeting hall instead of attending his fight training enrages the Baron.

He sees his control over Feyd slowly slipping away under your care. With his patience severed he regains control over him by force. He gives Feyd an ultimatum which leaves him no choice but to resubmit himsel to the Barons sadistic will.

Starts off passionate Ends with sexual angst

🚨 Slightly depraved smut 🚨

oral on sleeping female • fingering •clit play•panty tearing • sex on a table • sex in bondage•spanking•sex with a foreign object• orgasm controlled by device• male pleasuring self• male ejaculating on self • male dominance •ownership markings•orgasms •squirting•cream pies.

🫦Smut consultant @burnthheparaphilia

⚔️ Feyd Fantasy Series ⚔️

Part 1•Part 2• Part 3•Part 4•Part 5• Part 6• Part 7

⌛️ Extreme Dune Inaccuracies ⏳ 💝Softie approved (non violent)

I received so many requests that excited me it prolonged the writing 😭 🫶🏻

Feyd Fantasy III will continue the other requests TBA this week 💞 I love to entertain you so much 🥰

Inspo: ⚔️ Multiple anonymous requests combined:

-Feyds weakness for reader -He keeps her with collar hickies -Soft breast play -More sci-fi sex toy -Feyd Dom vs her spoiled/opinionated Bene Gesserit. -Feyd in angst -Feyd masturbating -Squirting in Feyds mouth -Sex while tied up *They are all hot ty for reqs 🤤🙏🏻

Baroness & Breeder

Feyd initially assumed after the wedding ceremony he would only spend the first night with you. After torturing you and defiling you to his gratification he would discard you and return to his pleasure slaves. He had only one objective to complete after all, securing his heir as the future Baron of Giedi Prime.

His preconceived notions perished the night he consummated the marriage. Your kindness and beauty beguiled him. Your ability to make him feel loved and nurtured satisfied what he deeply craved the most.

Feyd formed a physical attachment to you that slowly began to develop into something more. You were terrified of his brutality on your wedding night but slowly began understand his afflictions. Feyd has gone through decades of trauma to render him so psychologically damaged. You begin to nurture him and care for him like he has never known. It radically changes his mentality.

Being a young Bene Gesserit in training arranged to marry the psychotic Feyd Rautha, tested your resolve. But you proved your worth by securing his heir and the future kwisatz Haderach for the Order

Day by day your powers finally begin to awaken. You use them to mend Feyd further. You test your limits at times, changing his temperament with a calming touch or sending him feelings of passion and love in a single kiss

Each time he has sex with you the energy exchange that keeps him in a constant state of obsession and lust with you is entirely out of your control. He dominates you sexually.

As the gray morning light of Giedi Prime fills his bed chamber Feyd awakens from a vivid dream. You are on your knees in the throne room sucking his cock. He groans smiling as he stretches and opens his eyes. He never remembers having dreams before he met you now they are unceasing.

He turns on his side already hard as he watches you sleep. You are resting peacefully even after the rounds he put you through last night.

He desires your sex constantly. Any where at anytime, he does not tire of it. Not merely to satisfy his urges, but to feel the intimacy and passion on the deepest level with you. He can not find sex like this anywhere on demand which is why he is infatuated with you.

He reaches his hand and caresses his thumb down your jaw. He watches you softly breathe, your eyelids shift as you dream. His eyes wander lower, you are completely naked with the sheet resting on your hip.

He pulls it down to expose you. His breathing increases. He becomes aroused just from the sight of your genitalia. He knows you are becoming his weakness.

The infatuation began the moment he fully sheathed himself inside of you on the wedding night. He experienced a pleasure he had never known when he felt your tight walls milk his cock. As if bewitched he has been unable to stop the sexual thoughts forming in his mind and in his dreams about you.

He gently pushes your shoulder guiding you to lay flat on your back. He settles himself between your parted legs. Seeing you aren’t aroused he spits on his fingers and slicks his saliva into your folds. He is needy for you.

He is supposed to be getting ready for fight training, but he can’t concentrate on anything until he has you. He lowers his face between your thighs methodically licking your folds from your entrance to your clit .

You moan in your sleep, and he grabs the flesh of your inner thighs squeezing them before spreading your legs wider apart. He pushes his tongue into you tantalizing your core trying to awaken you.

Only a whimper escapes your lips as you dream. He gives you more, delicately guiding his two fingers inside of you. He pushes them in and pulls them back out in a soft rhythm. You become wetter as he increases his speed. The squishing sounds as he fingers you hardens his cock solid.

You finally awaken from a dream of him having sex with you. He had your wrists and ankles bound and tied to the bed posts.

When you look down and see he’s already pleasuring your folds you moan from the feeling. You look up to his mirror on the ceiling. He has one arm across your pelvis holding you down as his elbow of the other moves back and forth fucking his fingers into you.

He has already worked you up to an orgasm. You grab the back of his neck and pull his face directly into your pussy. He enjoys your dominance groaning as his lips mash into your clit. You begin moaning from the feeling “Feyd I’m so close” you cry out.

He makes his tongue work faster against your clit. You feel the familiar tightness in your core as you moan for him. “Feyd make me cum” you beg. He sucks your clit into his mouth and pumps his fingers furiously inside of you as you orgasm.

He removes his fingers and latches his lips on your entrance. His tongue coaxes your arousal and you squirt into his mouth as you cum. You moan looking down at him the feeling is so pleasurable. He gazes back into your eyes. You watch how they change as he drinks all the liquid released from your orgasm.

The look in his eyes is devious. He rises up from between your legs and hooks his hand around your hip. With his strength he easily flips you in one swift motion onto your belly.

He spreads your legs wide and lines himself up in between. He repeatedly slaps his heavy cock on your cheeks making himself harder preparing to enter you. “Feyd please be gentle” you plead with him. He smirks to himself pressing his cock to your entrance. He is able to be gentle until he orgasms and then he will thrust into you relentlessly until he cums.

Fight Training

The Baron speaks with his advisors in the morning about the upcoming gladiatorial fights around the massive table in the meeting hall. When the assembly concludes he uses his anti gravity device to go with the men of court to watch Feyd in combat training.

He is proud of the accomplishments of his nephew Feyd, he is the Barons favorite over his older brother Glossu Rabban Harkonnen.

After making several public embarrassments to the family name the Baron had Feyds brother Rabban shipped to Arrakis. He gives him one last chance to prove his worth controlling their families most lucrative venture, harvesting spice.

Though ominous and foreboding the Baron is an obesely over weight man. He can no longer walk without the assistance of integrated technology to reduce the burden of his weight. He has an antigravity device implanted into his spine thick tubes connected on two small orbs. The orbs float behind him carrying the chemicals which enable him to defy gravity.

They arrive to the second story of the courtyard in Feyds quarters. When looking down into the training pit the first floor it is deserted. A low murmur begins between his advisors as to the where about of Feyd. Always eager to show off his combat knife skills Feyds absence is jarring.

The Baron immediately goes to Feyds chambers and finds them empty as well. Feyds male Page appears at the entrance hearing the commotion. “Well where is he?” The Baron snaps “You are to be at his side at all times have you forgotten your purpose” The Baron is fuming at the Pages insolence.

The Page trembles knowing the truth and averts his eyes from the Barons Gaze “Spit it out or I cut it out” the Baron says coldly. He hovers into the young man’s personal space. The Page knows both Harkonnen men will readily slit his throat.

He divulges enough to not be dispatched by either “He and his lady are in the great halls of the fortress. I’m not sure where but he wanted to show her the grandeur of Geidi Prime” the Baron squints in anger how idiotic at a time like this with so much at stake to impress his new bride. His scowl deepens because Feyd above all neglected his training. For that he will be severly punished.

The Great Meeting Hall

After touring your fifth great hall with Feyd it is readily apparent his family has amassed a great fortune with power and control over the populous of Geidi Prime.

He pushes open the large black inscribed doors of the meeting hall. There are thrones at opposite ends raised on platforms with stairs. The high floor to ceiling windows display the industrial cityscape. A grand table that can seat fifty people occupies the majority of the floor space. Everything is void of color, only stone marble, black and granite can be seen in the gigantic space.

You walk over to the throne on your left “is this one yours?” Your voice echos in the large hall. Feyd nods, his hands are clasped behind his back. He follows you around the room as you study the furniture and the giant painting of his uncle and then of himself there is a portait of a third Harkonnen male next to Feyd but he interrupts your thoughts before you can ask the identity.

“This is where the most important decisions are made on Geidi Prime, as well as another secret room with the cones of silence” he adds.

“What are cones of silence? “ you ask. The words are somewhat familiar to you.

“They are able to mute all sounds around them, only the two inside can hear each other.”

He answers as he imagines himself fucking you inside of one until he makes you scream in pleasure as loud as he possibly can. He stops walking and stands behind you.

You've paused to study something that caught your eye. His eyes wander your form up to the beauty of your side profile. He can’t help himself as his hand trails down your shoulder. “Do these things in impress you?” He asks. You finally look over your shoulder at him.

You had been mesmerized studying an ancient Harnokken sword on display. It is carved with hieroglyphs that date back centuries. It represents how his entire culture revolves around war and greed . “Yes ” you say addressing his question to be kind. You turn back to looking at the sword again. Deep inside you are longing for your home world.

You remember the beautiful gardens, waterfalls, flowers, and colors of life. You especially miss the large atrium where you would read for hours basking in the afternoon sunlight. The warm sun would kiss your skin as it filtered through the glass dome.

You would lay on a spacious out door ottoman with your fellow Bene Gesserit sisters. Honing your Bene Gesserit skills in the palatial gardens seemed like a dream now.

Feyd sees you lost deep in thought and softly grabs your chin “What would impress you more” he asks with intent. He knows you aren’t fond of the ways on Geidi Prime. You don’t have an answer so you remain quiet.

He knows one thing he has that impresses you on end. He gently pulls you into a kiss. His bottom lip rubs softly with yours as his warm tongue fills your mouth.

He ignites your passions and you place your hands on his jaw. You lean your head with his as you kiss him in return. You want to focus on the carnal and forget your distant memories. He presses himself against you and the heat of his body claims you.

He turns walking you back as he kisses your lips until you are met against the grand meeting hall table. He sits on the edge and moves to the center. He rises up on his knees beckoning you to come.

You sit on the edge and crawl to him. Now both in the center his lips find yours again hungrier than before. You feel his teeth bite into your lower lip and tug. It arouses you as he releases your lip and does it again. Then he envelops his mouth completely onto yours. You feel the hardness of his cock as he presses it into your thigh.

He wants to defile you on this table. He smirks at the high disrespect to the Harkonnen dynasty he is about to commit. Soon this will all belong to him so what does it matter. He pushes you back to lie flat against the stone slab. You gaze up above him to the metallic barbs of the chandelier until his face obscures your view.

His hands start at your knees grabbing the hem of your gown and sliding it to your hips.

His hands clutch one side of your panties tearing them apart making you gasp. He tears the other side and rips them clean from your body.

You watch as he sits back on his heels between your parted legs. He unhooks the clasp of his pants and pulls his thick veiny cock out. The contrast of the black fabric against his large hardened pale cock is striking.

He slaps his pink tip on your clit to edge you.

You wince at each tap of his cock as it makes your bundle of nerves jump. He slides his hand down your thigh to meet your hip and holds you steady. He lines himself up and thrusts into you so roughly you have no time to adjust to the feeling.

Your vision goes hazy as your back arcs from the table. His penetration shocked you senseless. His large cock expands parts of you that you never knew existed. He watches how your face changes from pain to pleasure and back again as you try and relax around the girth of his size.

He wants to spur you on and leans down pressing his chest to yours. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck titling your head so he can speak softly into your ear.

”You are so beautiful to me” he says as his eyes study your side profile. He traces his thumb on your lower lip as you pant for him. “So desperate for my cock, the way you’d let me fuck you on this table you’d let me do anything to you” a moan escapes your lips as he shushes you “Just lay still and look pretty while I fuck you until you stretch open for me” you moan louder at his words.

He begins to roughly thrust inside of you like he wants to posses you. His cock hits your core at a dangerous pace. Your breasts bounce with every push of his hips. He is already becoming lost in pleasure loving the feeling of your tight cunt stretching around his throbbing cock.

You arc your back down flat to steady yourself against his pace. “You…feel too good on my cock” he rasps out as he finally hits the thrust that stretches you to around his size. He stares down into your eyes completely transfixed by the physical connection between your bodies.

Unbeknownst to you both the Baron has finally narrowed his search. After spying into several halls down the corridor his servants waves him over finally finding the one you are in. The Baron peeks through the discreet opening made by one of the nimble servant. There on the middle of the table in the grand meeting hall he sees Feyd fucking you ruthlessly.

Your are constantly being pounded into the stone slab table by his strength. His hips begins slapping harder against you as he thrust between your legs. You hold out until the familiar tightening in your abdomen begins. Your moans start to fill the air.

As your walls clench around him it makes his cock feel incredible inside of you. Your eyes stare up at him, pleading and begging for release.

He sees the neediness in your eyes and brings his hand between your bodies touching your clit. His finger tips are wet by your arousal as he slicks them expertly in firm circles around your bundle of nerves.

It sends shocks though your core that radiate your entire body “YES please Feyd just like that“. You are unable to string together another sentence as you orgasm with him strumming your clit as hard as he can with his cock slamming into your soaked pussy.

His mouth opens feeling your walls milking his cock from your orgasm. He pins your wrists next to your head and plows into you even harder. His pace falters as he orgasms. He gasps as he paints rope after rope of hot cum into your cervix.

He rests down on his elbows laying his full weight on you panting. He kisses your lips passionately with his final slow thrusts. His breath shudders into your mouth as he feels his cock empty inside of you.

He plants soft kisses around your face as he comes down. Each one more tender and loving than the last. His heart feels revived when he’s with you. He cradles your head in his hands staring into your eyes. You smile at him and he smiles back, it isn’t like his sinister ones before, this one is radiant you see the kindness in his eyes.

His uncle spying on the entire moment becomes enraged : not at the fact Feyd missed training, not at the fact he satisfied his carnal urges on the sacred meeting hall table, but at the fact Feyd put a woman’s pleasure before his own. The Baron turns away in disgust his patience is severed.

He raised Feyd with enough brutality and greed to become a ruthless tyrant. Now he sees every aspect of the brutally he instilled in Feyd quickly being stripped away by a female. He never thought this was possible.

He will take out two problems with one swift action: Punishing Feyd by having you removed from his presence entirely.

Family Secrets

You and Feyd take time to have a meal together in the dining hall. He enjoys his meat rare and bloody. You usually avoid looking at his plate due to nausea, but tonight you are having an unusual craving to bite into the blood soaked meat.

He sees you staring at his plate hungrily after you’ve finished your soup. He smiles and cuts you a piece bringing it to your lips. The scent of iron is overwhelming, you readily collect the piece of meat in your mouth.

You chew ravenously before stopping yourself and chewing regularly again. It’s like the color returns to your vision as your body absorbs it. Feyd knows why you are craving it and cuts more pieces for you to eat but remains silent on the topic.

Instead he pries into what things you miss that would entertain you in the fortress. When you mention your love of books he says he will have his Page take you to the fortress library the next day. Feyd knows he will be preoccupied back on schedule with his uncles plans. He will be unable to spend as much time with you.

By the time you and Feyd return to his chambers it is late evening. His Page rushes him and pulls him aside to make him aware of his uncles fury.

“The Baron showed up unexpectedly to observe your fight training today. When he realized you were not here he went into a rage. I believe because it is your birthday as well as the killing of your 100th gladiator which makes him more invested than usual.”

Feyd understands the importance of the events to his Uncle and knows he will be under a more watchful eye.

Feyd joins you in his chamber. You are already on his balcony at the railing staring up at the moon. It is white with gray swirls of clouds all over it, asteroids scatter across the expanse the sky in front of it .

Feyd approaches you and places his hand on your hip joining you together. You look over at him and smile. His pale skin always glows in the moonlight. “I think my uncle is angry with me” he admits. “Why would he be angry?” you ask.

He and his uncle have a complicated family dynamic. Feyd looks up at the moon. “I’m his successor, I must do everything he asks to inherit Giedi Prime and I am beginning to follow my own interests. Lately I have been… preoccupied” he says as he looks over at you smiling.

“Why are you here with him, where are your parents Feyd?” his face turns to panic he quickly looks away to hide it but you clearly saw his reaction. He walks back inside ending the conversation leaving you on the balcony.

You follow him in stunned by his reaction to a simple question. He is already undressing clearly avoiding the topic for sex. He approaches you fully naked his cock semi erect. He pulls your gown off crumpling it to the floor and making you step out of your panties. Before you can ask more questions he’s already kissing you. He’s so quick it’s catching you off guard.

He lowers his face to your neck and licks a column up your throat. He begins to bite his black teeth into your flesh sealing his lips and sucking new bruises to mark you.

The previous collar of bruises only faded yesterday. You whine to him “Feyd please I just had a beautiful gown made to wear to your gladiator event. All of my Bene Gesserit sisters are going to attend. If you mark me it will show” He releases his lips from you and grabs the front of your throat.

He stares intensely into your eyes and you see his psychotic gaze return “Whose throat is this?” He asks. A chill runs up your spine suddenly feeling his dominance “Yours” you muster up. “Who do you belong to?” You feel a bit of defiance rising as a Baroness until he grabs a handful of your pussy.

“You! its yours” you yelp. You want him to return to gentle. “Does my pet need to be trained back into obedience?” He asks rhetorically. “No I’m being good!” You whine.

He looks you over his temper rising thinking of how many little rules you’ve been breaking. “You are becoming a spoiled pet again listen to to how you whine” He collects your arousal on his fingertips and brings them up to you mouth. He makes you suck one of his fingers in to you mouth at a time. You thoroughly suck them from his knuckles to his finger tips. “Good girl” he says voice faltering from arousal. “ If you wine again I will punish you.”

He takes your hand and brings it to his solid cock. You gasp he is so hard. He wraps his hand around yours making you pump his shaft as he goes back to sucking bruises on your throat.

You don’t say another word to deny him his pleasure.

He continues to have you pump his shaft as he completes your collar marking you as his.

He removes your hand from his cock and pulls you to the bed. When your thighs meet the edge he bends you over face down on the mattress. You turn your head to the left.

You watch as he grabs a length of rope from his sex toy table. He stands directly behind you and waits. Knowing what a spoiled pet you are you will complain before he even does anything. “But Feyd I was good” you wine.

You fell right into his trap “Tsk tsk you whine yet again a light punishment will take that right out of your voice.” He loves to tie you up because unlike most when tied you continue to squirm and struggle which excites him.

He places your arms across your lower back in an “X” binding them together . When he’s finished he gives your right bottom cheek a nice slap “Climb on the bed”he commands. You stand and he pushes you back down “On your belly” he snaps.

You lift your legs but without your arms you struggle. You try using your navel to slide but it catches against the sheet. Feyd slaps your cheeks again you cry out “I said climb!” He enjoys watching you spread your self open as you struggle, he becomes aroused “ If you can’t climb up I’m going to fuck you ruthlessly” he says. He strokes his cock watching you from behind.

You really try to push your body up on the bed. Finally you hook your knee and slide on your chest forward and pull your other leg up. You roll onto your back with your hands tied and let out a light laugh because you made it.

Feyd loves nothing more than fucking you as hard as he can. He didn’t think you could make it now he has to be gentle.

You giggle looking into his eyes seeing the defeat. He climbs on top of you and rests back on his heels. Feyd picks you up around your torso and lines you up over his lap.

He slowly pulls you down onto his cock and you moan for him. With your hands tied behind your back you feel helpless as he guides his length inside of you.

Using your tied arms as leverage he forces you to settle on the base of his shaft. You cry out as he stretches your clit around his girth. You rock and clench on him tying to adjust to his size. He is so deep it feels like he is piecing your cervix. He slowly begins taking you up and down his length.

You moan out his name as his large cock squeezes through your tight walls. He works you at a gentle pace until his cock swells stretching you wide, you feel his shaft start throbbing. He wants to cum. He slips his cock all of the way out as you gasp. He places you face down on the bed your pussy is completely in the air.

“Feyd pleas—-“ you stop yourself from whining as he pushes his cock through your entrance “ uhhh Feyd” his cock enters you deliciously. He grabs the top of your cheeks and rails into you with your hands tied behind your back. Your pussy smacks against him as you make depraved moaning sounds. Each thrust that jolts your body sends you closer to an orgasm. You are wound so tight you can’t breathe.

You hear him growl as his hips stutter and you cum in unison. He pounds your walls as they milk his cock. He lets out a choked off moan. He will never get used to how pleasurable the sensation is. A shiver runs down his spine as he slips his cock out of you. He leans back grabbing a knife from the sex toy table. He cuts your hands free.

You let them fall at your sides on the bed as you pant heavily. He fucked every thought out of your head.

He presses a button on the side of his bed that turns all the room lights off filling it with moonlight from the balcony. He gets under the sheet and beckons you to come to him. You wearily climb and plop down on his chest. He hopes he distanced and distracted you enough to never ask about his family again.

Remote Pleasure

The next morning Feyd awakens back into his routine. Looking over at you in bed he sees your back is to him. He has no time to pleasure you, he slowly trails his finger tips down your spine instead and leaves you to rest. His uncle has summoned him to the meeting hall after his fight training.

He enters his decontamination chamber to sanitize his body and then cleanse his mouth. He puts on his chest plate with light fighting gear. He pushes open the large chamber doors closing them quietly behind him to let your rest.

He descends the stairs to the fighting pit. His sparring partner Ghul and his barb men look up and hail his return. Ghul chides him. “Blessings of the ancient ways the great Feyd Rautha is not defiling his new wife and will be able to spar today” he and the barb men collectively laugh and cheer.

“I defeat you without effort every time Ghul this time should be no different, as for my barb men stand around as usual while I do all the fighting what use are you to me?” Feyd smirks taunting them.

Feyd will fight in the arena with his nine barb men at his side. They are skilled fighters sworn to protect his life. They throw and attach hooked barbs into his opponents flesh. They pull them back or weaken the attacks depending on how well it helps Feyd Routha secure a triumphant victory.

Ghul and Feyd prepare to fight with blunted knives to keep his reflexes sharp. They get into formation encircling each other to parry and attack.

You awaken from a dream of Feyd winning the fights holding his knife triumphantly in the air.

You turn and find the bed is empty Feyd has gone. You hear the clanging of knives just beyond the doors. He is below on the first floor in his courtyard training pit. You get out of bed and fill the large stone basin with warm water and bathe your body then rinse your face and mouth.

Your wrap in one of Feyds black fabric robes and explore his room. This is the only time you have been left unattended.

You know he has his knife collection in one of the giant locked display cases but your mind has been burning with curiosity to know what could be in the other.

You stand infront of the mystery case and hold your hand around the lock. You run your finger down the key opening it is a rectangle with 3 prongs.

You look over to his knife case. Dangling out of its lock is a ring with another key of that same description. You rush and remove the keys from the knife case and bring them to the mysterious display case.

The key successfully fits. As it hinges open you are shocked by the contents. Filled top to bottom in neatly organized rows there are; masks, whips, paddles, spiked collars, leashes, cock rings, leather restraints, blind folds and things you cannot even identify yet.

Your eyes grow weary scanning and processing all of the sexually depravity he has participated in. There are vials of liquids and tinctures. You see a familiar glowing color liquid you believe he has used on you before.

Assuming they are all for sex purposes you open the vial and place one drop on your finger. You seal it replacing it back. You take your covered finger and press it on your clit. When it begins pulsing you are certain it is the same one he used to soften you for sex before.

Your ears tingle as you realize the sound of the swords have stopped for quite sometime . You quickly lock the display case and return the key in the lock of the other just the way he had it. You hurry to the basin room and stand against the counter looking in the mirror fixing your hair.

Feyd returns pushing the large chamber doors open just at that moment. You let out a breath you weren’t caught. Your Bene Gesserit intuition is increasing each day.

You watch him remove his chest plate. He comes and clings to you holding you around your waist.

He is sweaty and hot exerted from his training.

Looking in the reflection he stares at the two of you together. Your radiant skin shines in comparison to his pale whiteness.

The toxicity of centuries on Giedi Prime has made all inhabitants hairless and pigment-less. He kisses your temple then strips completely naked to use the decontamination chamber.

You watch as he enters and locks himself inside. He presses his hands to the wall and steps his legs apart. Bursts of steam spray every inch of his body coating him in antimicrobial soap. A ring descends from the ceiling he lifts his hands above his head. The ring lowers spraying each row of his body from head to toe.

He wipes the water From his face as all the instruments lock away. Hot hair fills the shower drying him completely. Feyd steps out form the chamber looking brand new. You are awe struck using only the water basin to bathe.

He walks through his main chamber completely naked. You follow to watch his perfectly muscled figure walk as his cock swings. He presses a button on the wall that releases a hidden panel it ejects a stream of black out fits on a rod. He skims a few before settling on a high collared black one. He presses a button at the end of the rod and they all stack back into the hidden panel.

His muscular white body is stunning you can’t stop staring at his small waist and especially his long cock. As he gets dressed you become aroused as you watch him.

Once he’s fully clothed he comes and kisses your lips to leave. But you hold his hand tugging him to stay. “My uncle has summoned me, I do not know what he intends to meet about but I do not want to upset him.”

He is looks down at you finally noticing you wearing his robe. He smiles as he opens the front to reveal your breasts. He begins softly massaging them in his hands getting distracted as his fingers find your nipples. He pinches and pulls at them sending shocks to your core.

You look into his eyes as you begin to pant. You are getting wet as he plays with your sensitive buds “I want to soak my cock inside of you …but I cannot miss this meeting.” He says as he look back into your pleading eyes. An idea forms in his mind and he smiles mischievously.

“Come” he says taking your hand. He helps you to lie back on the bed. You watch as he goes to his knife cabinet removing the key to open what you can confirm is his kink cabinet. A lump forms in your throat already knowing the contents but everything he does has pleasured you intensely thus far. You secretly anticipate what he will do to you next.

He retrieves a few items and returns to sits on the bed next to you. In his hand is a gold sphere and two rings. One ring has a glowing green dot the other has a white glowing dot “I can not please you now but this will do the job very well until I return” he says with a sinister grin. He motions for you to take off your robe.

Once naked he has you lay on your back with your knees bent, he pushes them apart. He rests the golden sphere at your entrance and pushes it with two fingers until your walls sucks it in. A light sound of pleasure escapes your lips It feels heavy inside as it slowly sinks all the way to your cervix. He quickly puts the gold ring with the white dot on your finger.

“When you orgasm, use the ring on your finger to draw the sphere out or it will start all over.” He smiles wickedly as he says it. Thinking of you actually enduring an immediate second orgasm with this device. He will have to rescue you from a pleasure so great it will render you brainless. You nod smiling back at him you always obey his commands now.

He puts the other golden ring with the glowing green dot on his finger. He softly taps the gold band until the green dot begins blinking and then he waits. When the sphere warms and senses your vitals the green dot on his ring turns solid green.

He rubs around the gold band entirely with his finger and the sphere begins to roll up and down in side of your body like a pushing cock. You toss your head back and deeply moan as your body covers in chills.

The feeling is so new and intense you begin heavily panting losing all your thoughts. The sphere expands you at separate times internally . You begin to moan unending and you want to cum from the pleasure. “Feyd!” Is all you can cry out unable to even think.

His cock twitches. He has set it on the highest setting to get a preview of how the sphere affects your body. He already wants to ejaculate over navel as you cum but he has no time at all. He quickly rolls his thumb on the ring so the intensity is at its lowest level. The sphere slowly spins in place at your cervix. You are able to think again.

He leans over you and kisses your mouth “I will play with you while I am away I will make you cum and I will be ready to make you cum again when I return” you are shivering as you nod.

He kisses your forehead and rubs his thumb against his ring. It begins to roll up and down inside of you slowly. You gasp and close your eyes enjoying the feeling. He departs while you are distracted in bliss. If he looks back he will stay and fuck you.

He pulls the doors closed behind him hearing you begin to softly moan. He shudders from arousal. He looks at his ring it is still solid green. He knows when the dot on his ring turns from green to red you are having an intense orgasm. He has a a look of pure contentment on his face as he heads off to meet his uncle.

When he arrives at the large inscribed black doors of the grand meeting hall it is flanked by two soliders. They open the doors for him, Feyd enters.

His uncle is seated at the head of the enormous meeting table and upon seeing Feyd immediately begins yelling and chastising his recent actions. Instead of sitting at the meeting table Feyd climbs the stairs up to the platform and sits on his throne.

He tunes out his uncles ranting far more enthralled to play with his ring. He puts one leg over the armrest and his elbow on the other. He rests back in his throne and slides his thumb across the gold band increasing the thrusts inside of you to the maximum.

He smiles tilting his head back in wicked satisfaction knowing the sphere is railing your walls with pleasure right now. You have been enduring the highest setting for about 40 seconds and he knows you are falling apart about to cum.

The dot suddenly turns red and his eyes light up knowing at this moment you are having the most intense orgasm in his chamber. When he thinks about how you are squirting all over his bed his cock gets so hard he palms himself trying to calm down but is unable to. His breathing increases as he thinks of making an excuse to depart the meeting and go fuck you. He is charged with too much sexual arousal.

“FEYD RAUTHA HARKONNEN!” His uncles voice suddenly booms at him from the steps leading up to his throne. Feyd quickly sits up realizing he’s missed the entire first half of his uncles tirade, his cock begins to soften as he tries to calm his breathing. His uncle floats from the the bottom of the stairs directly into Feyds face using his anti gravity device

“You are losing your entire focus due to her influence! The gladiatorial fights are paramount! Even though we drug the warriors and poison your blades you must still fight and put on a valiant show. We need the people to think you are worthy of becoming Emperor! ”

Feyds eyes glare into his uncles. Only he and a select few others know this dark secret. Feyd can truly fight and would enjoy shedding blood without the need of weakening his opponents. But his uncle knows Feyds ascension to become Baron is far too valuable to take such a risk.

The Baron saw great potential in Feyd from a young age, preferring him to his older brother Rabban. When Feyds mother was brutally murdered the Baron took stewardship of both boys.

The Baron could clearly see the path ahead of him. One day, a Harkonnen would be Emperor. Not himself, and no spawn of his loins. But a Harkonnen.

The Baron knew it would not be the raging older Glassu Rabban but the younger calculated Feyd Rautha. There was a sharpness and ruthlessness to Feyd that proved to the Baron he was the worthy successor of the Harkonnen dynasty.

Which is why the Baron tells Feyd of his plans to have you removed from his presence. He can not let anything interfere with his grooming of Feyd to become a malevolent Emperor. He wants the marriage political, cold, and lifeless. Feyds baroness and breeder without influence.

“Your wife will be removed from your quarters immediately and you will no longer be permitted see her. She will attend your birthday and the gladiatorial fights for ceremonial purposes of course but after that she will be relocated out of the fortress entirely”

Feyds voice drops almost to a growl as he glares at an uncle in disbelief “How long will she be removed from me?” He asks deliberately. He narrows his eyes and tilts his head to the side with an eerie coldness as he awaits the answer.

“Until she births your heir of course! After that you will never have need to see her again” the Baron says it with a wicked smile.

Feyds black teeth grit so hard they click.

“Your pleasure slaves will be sent to satisfy your lust, soon you will forget about her. Any female can take her place” the Baron says it off handedly as he floats back down to the meeting hall table.

Feyd slowly rises from his throne and balls his hands into fists. He clenches his jaw so hard he has to force his lips from baring his black teeth.

The insatiable desire to finally murder his uncle overwhelms all of his senses as he takes two steps down from his throne. Feyd is ready to take the Baron life. Ripping the thick cable from his anti gravity device and wrapping it around the Barons fat neck, strangling him until his eyes pop out from their orbits. Before he takes another step his rational returns he can not go through with that plan.

He will become Baron but never be honored as Emperor. His people may even revolt against him at the start of his rule. He will upset the great houses and his ascension may even be overturned to his older brother Rabban, after all it wouldn’t be the first family member he’s killed. Feyd desires gaining complete power as emperor above all else it is too deeply engrained in his psyche.

He begins to formulate a way to have both. He will fast track his ascension to the throne by murdering his uncle in a way can not be traced back to him. He will keep his false honor in tact.

The Library

After your remove the sphere from your body with the ring you lay back on the bed panting and shivering. It made your mind shift away from reality, which you did not think was possible. You lost your ability to move after you orgasmed. You lay on the soaked sheets realizing you should will yourself to get up.

You rinse the sphere and place it with the ring on Feyds sex toy table at the foot of his bed.

You use his decontamination chamber to clean your body and get dressed. You push open the main doors to leave the chamber. Feyds Page is waiting as instructed. “Na Baroness I have been ordered to escort you, where would you like to go?” You smile as you answer “The library please.”

After finding the main corridor of the fortress the Page brings you to the large red library doors and bows leaving your presence. He waits near by incase you have further need of his assistance.

You push the large red doors open and step inside. The library is enormous. The only room with color, red designed rugs cover the expanse of the floor. The bookshelves are carved into stone walls reaching all the way to the ceiling. The room is three stories high. There are stairs and balconies to reach the higher levels.

The couches are like lay down beds soft and squishy accented with red pillows. You press your hand into the black fabric seat. It is so spongy and perfect to curl up in. There are orbs you can tap on throughout the space if you need more light.

You take an orb in your hand and it begins to glow. You use it to head to the section marked H. You scan your fingers along the shelves with a mission until you find what you are looking for. Harkonnen Dynasty Lineage.

You have a burning desire to find out about Feyds biological parents and how he came to live with his uncle. You dare not ask Feyd you have tried once and his response was viscerally painful. He is well reserved on topics regarding his upbringing.

Another mystery is discovering the identity of the second male Harkonnen in the portrait of the meeting hall. You take your orb and curl up on a couch. As you sit it conforms to your shape and you smile feeling at ease. You begin to read.

After a few chapters you discover Feyds paternal last name is Rabban. He was born on the Harkonnen planet of Lankiveil. He has an older brother named Glassu Rabban, which means he has surpassed his older brother in being chosen as the next Baron. This aligns with the photo of the second male Harkonnen in the meeting hall.

You read two more chapters until you come to the section of his parents. His father is Abulurd Rabban your eyes suddenly skip ahead startled to read the ruling of Feyds mother Emmi Rabbans death: Matricide. Your eyes widen in fear understanding one of her own sons killed her. Your apprehension grows as you continue to read further.

Suddenly the doors of the library slam open you jump up startled. Two guards enter with the Barons Lord in Waiting “Na Baroness you are being relocated” he says flatly. He and the guards escort you form the library.

Feyds Agony

Feyd leaves the meeting hall and sprints to his chambers. His Page stops him as he regains his breath at the doors before he can go inside “Na Baron they have taken your Baroness away I have witnessed it with my own eyes” Feyd pushes him aside and bursts into his chamber. All of your things are missing, the bed is still un-made from the morning, you are no where in sight.

He still searches the room not ready to face his fears and finally looks to the balcony. He sees through the sheer curtain there is a figure standing at the banister.

He parts the curtains to find his pleasure slave Vîces. A Giedi Prime woman bald and pale. She smiles at him and bends over the railing wearing only a black corset her backside covered in lashes on full display to him. A tray of whips at her side. She has obviously been summoned as a gift from his uncle.

Vîces especially enjoys being afflicted with punishment when Feyd is furious. She has missed his spankings so much she is already aroused seeing the rage in his eyes. He slowly picks up a whip from the tray dragging the coil he twists and untwists it to snap correctly.

He grips the handle tighter before his wrist goes limp and he stops. “Leave my chambers” he says quietly. He feels not rage but another emotion that is far worse in his chest. Warm liquid brims at his eye line, and he touches the corner releasing a tear he stares at his finger tips in disbelief. She is shocked at his uncharacteristic behavior and quickly puts on her robes and leaves.

Feyd climbs back into his bed resting on his stomach he feels defeated. The sheets still smell like you and he presses his face to them remembering only an hour ago you had an orgasm there. He shifts on his back and unclasps his pants freeing his cock. He wants to feel anything over this emotional pain. He separates his shirt open and closes his eyes thinking of you. He remembers the way his cock splits you apart, how he wanted to please you when he returned.

He pulls a bottle of lubricant from his night stand and coats his palm. He begins slowly stroking his hardening length. He groans in pleasure thinking about your face, he thrusts into his hand harder. He remembers the sounds you that escape your lips when he makes you cum. His abs tighten and his cock begins to twitch. He pumps his shaft faster until he feels that all too familiar throbbing. He bites his lower lip as he ejaculates.

He opens his mouth and groans as warm cum spills down his shaft and onto his hand. He feels the aching feeling forming in his chest again but refuses to accept it.

He keeps pumping his shaft with his own cum forcing himself to remain hard. He roars loudly and fucks his hand brutally. The slapping sounds of his fist increases with his pace. Slippery with his own cum he finally bursts more ropes from his cock that leak down his hand and onto his abs. He is gasping chest heaving.

He takes the sheets wiping his abs and cock then strips it from the bed hurling it across the room as he finally yells in agony.

Quarters of the Baroness

You have been locked in your quarters for days. You have two handmaidens that wait upon you at all hours. If the room were less ornate, it would feel like a prison.

On the first day you recive a scroll from the Bene Gesserit confirming their attendance to the gladiatorial fights. They want to see the prospective Feyd Rautha and congratulate you on the announcement of your pregnancy. Twelve sisters will be attending in total.

You smile and almost weep realizing that some form of normalicy will return to this insane planet you’ve come to know as you’re home.

The eve before the gladiatorial fights there is a knock at the door the handmaiden opens it. The seamstress has arrived with her assistants. They are carrying two gowns for you. You know the shimmering blue one is for the Gladiatorial event. You touch the black one with a glistening design “ What is the dress for?” You ask in confusion.

The seamstress has her assistants hold it up. It is a floor length gown with a high thigh slit, backless and sleeveless with a low “V”cut connecting the front to a hood. It is beautiful. “This one is for your Na Barons Birthday celebration after the fights on the same day!” She says with a smile. “ Na Baron Feyd Rautha knew exactly how he wanted you to dress on his birthday” she says as she admires the dress.

She worked tirelessly to Feyds specifications to make it right. “ Feyd made this for me?” She nods with a big grin. You are still trying to get over the fact you didn’t know it was Feyds upcoming birthday. You are shocked to realize you know so little of him.

The seamstress continues “When you wear the black one I have a special modification.”She pulls the dress up revealing the hidden lining. “Because the slit is so high I had to have the snap seam sewn inside to protect your modesty.” She tries not to giggle as she remembers telling Feyd a slit that high will leave you open to exposure. But luckily she is talented enough to fix the design.

She continues “You pull the gown on as usual and snap the buttons together that way from the side no one can have a peek at the Na Baroness” you giggle and thank her. The assistants hang the dresses on display in the closet and the seamstress bids you farewell as they depart.

When you finally settle to finally sleep, there is yet another knock on the door. You hear lots of whispering at the entrance. The handmaiden knocks before entering your room. “There is a gift here but it can only be accepted by your hands.”she says. You sit up and wrap your robe tighter. As you step to the entrance you see Feyds Page bow to you. He is holding a metallic box with a lock, the key in his other hand “I was instructed you are to use it immediately” he says. You take the items and thank him he bows again and quickly leaves .

The handmaidens become nosy knowing it is from Feyd and you are banned from contact. You quickly enter your chambers and lock the door before they can speak.

You sit on the bed to unlock and unhinge the box. Resting inside is the golden sphere and the ring with a white dot. Your heart swells and you smile for the first time in days realizing this is something directly snuck in from Feyd.

You put the gold band with the white glowing dot on your pointer finger. You grab a towel and place it between your legs and relax against your pillows. You place the box on your night stand. You collect the sphere in your hand and spread your legs apart pushing it into your entrance. After it slowly sinks inside you wait. You focus on any signs of movement but the sphere remains still.

When it slowly begins spinning inside you light up in excitement. The ball begins to slowly roll up and down inside of you. You let out a moan and slap your hand over your mouth. The handmaidens are in the next room. The vision of Feyd naked in his bed stroking his cock at the same speed makes you completely give in. You close your eyes and imagine him as you rest back against your pillows.

You quickly lose your thoughts when the sphere speeds up. Your chest begins heaving as you knit you brows. A moan escapes your lips and then another. You wish it was Feyds cock as the orbs thrusts inside of you. Your abs tighten and you relent into an orgasm grabbing a pillow to stifle your moans. You release liquid all over the towel it feels so good you shiver. You clean yourself up and lay back against the pillows.

As you come down your body is frozen in place unable to move, you wonder if Feyd came at the same time making a smile spread across your face. You quickly sit up and retrieve the sphere out of you with your ring finger before it starts all over. You rinse it and return it to its case. After you turn off the lights you climb in bed and finally drift off to sleep.

Tommorow you will see Feyd again in all his glory at the gladiator fights in the arena. You dream of being at his side again.

To Be Continued …

Up Next Part 3: Available Now

Feyd in the Arena | Feyd Birthday Smut | Kinky Smut

⚔️ Fic Tag list: @burnthheparaphilia @elvismylove04 @lindszeppelin @obsessedvibee @abswifey @jessica987 @hardcoredisneynerd @austiebuttbutt @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @purejasmine@i5uckersblog @phil2135561 @lovereadingfanfic @steph-speaks @rougegenshin @maloribarnes1999 @meetmeatyourworst @moony-artemis @xxxstormyninixxx @prettypinkblogger @thegabbyh @magicovento @aoi-targaryen @austinswhitewolf @skinny-baby-4eva @mimsie95 @the-wanderer-2022 @jakesullyissopookie @francis-writes @shiranai-atsune @berlinalv

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fear-is-truth · 8 days ago

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stepbrother!rafe x reader | contains : substance abuse ⋆ mutual pining ⋆ pseudocest⋆ masturbation ⸝⸝ MDNI 18+

SUN BLEACHED JUNE, your mother married ward cameron beneath a silk-draped archway facing the water, her veil lifting in the salt-laden breeze. white hydrangeas bloomed in cut-crystal vases, silver trays of oysters gleamed under string lights, and peach bellinis bled condensation down the stems of their flutes. to you, it looked more like a lana del rey music video than the wedding between two real people—undeniably decadent, but with a thin, aching vein of melancholy running through its beauty. you stood near the back, watching her laugh behind that veil and thinking only: please let him treat her with kindness.

wheezie took to you instantly, and you adored her right back. loved her, even. it was that easy. sarah, ever a diplomatic creature, treated you with polite cordiality. she’d include you in beach bonfires with her kook friends but never asked much beyond what civility required.

rafe, though—he loathed you on sight. he’d already spent too much of his life clawing for his father’s attention only to be outshone by sarah, and now here you were: wheezie’s new favourite: that was the final insult to injury. he made a whole production of sneering “stepsis” and “brat” whenever he had to address you. but eventually, the novelty wore off and he decided you weren’t worth the effort. now it’s just your name, pronounced with the same, naked contempt.

once, you passed him in the hallway. you’d just come in from a swim, a towel clutched loosely around your body, the sea clinging to your hair in briny strands. his gaze sweeped over you in a lecherous once-over, pausing deliberately at your chest, where it lingered without shame.

“so. you’re the little stray my dad picked up?”

“and you’re the little purebred that he forgot to discipline.” you smiled sweetly, and promptly slammed your bedroom door in his face.

you didn’t speak for days. or rather—he didn’t. you caught the occasional glare over breakfast, the muttered insult under his breath and the audible exhale of annoyance whenever ward referred to you as “a good influence.”

and then—that inevitable pivot, where the axis between the two of you tilted beyond repair.

sometime past three, you startled awake to the unmistakable sound of something (or rather, someone) colliding with the edge of your vanity.

shadows swam across the room, furniture rendered unfamiliar in the slivered blue moonlight. muscles seizing, your body locked up completely. thought eclipsed by one sharp, biological imperative: threat.

burglar. home invasion. someone in your room.

and then your eyes adjusted to the darkness.

there he was.

rafe, slumped beside the wall. his shirt clung to him, dark at the collar. strands of hair stuck wet to his forehead, lending him a strange boyishness—if not for the way his pupils eclipsed almost all colour, black disks swollen wide within that glacial iris.

you didn’t need a test kit to know that he was coked out of his fucking mind.

a darker part of you—maybe the part rafe had cultivated himself—considered letting him drop and convulse on your carpet. he’d earned it, hadn’t he? every small cruelty he’d lobbed your way, this was its natural end. you were still contemplating the pros and cons but then he managed to croak out your name before sliding down the wall, knees buckling beneath him.

that was all it took.

in the morning, neither of you mentioned the encounter. if his eyes hadn’t lingered on your hands—the same ones that cradled him like a fevered child, that wiped his brow with a damp towel—you might’ve convinced yourself it never happened. a fever dream.

rafe never thanked you. that simply went against his nature. but he started leaving the bathroom door cracked when he got himself off. subtle, with just enough plausible deniability. you heard everything: the breathy cadence, the wet slap of his palm. sometimes—even your name. or maybe not. maybe your brain twisted syllables to match its own perversions.

either way, you lay there panting and sick, hand pressed between your thighs as if pressure alone could substitute for penetration. in painful clarity, you remembered the sharp lines of his hips, the arrowing v of muscle beneath his boxer briefs. you’d seen it all. once—“by accident.” you knew, instinctively, how he’d feel inside you: thick and punishing. a stretch that would sting before it satisfied.

it became something of a pattern.

he had those lows. episodes of collapse after the high burned out. adrenaline and cocaine vacillated, then abandoned him entirely. sometimes you found him collapsed in the hallway, or sprawled at the foot of the stairs. other nights—‘better’ ones—he barged into your room himself, barely lucid.

you helped him into bed, where he slept curled behind you, an arm slung over your waist. sometimes he groaned in his sleep. hips jerked forward, slotted tight against you. and what else could you do but lie there paralyzed, torn between revulsion and something far more incendiary? hating him a little for making you feel dirty. hating yourself more.

in daylight, he’s cruel again. cold as the tide.

but at night, he finds his way back. always back.

#queue #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #stepbro!rafe #tw stepcest #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe obx #rafe x you #outerbanks rafe #rafe imagine #rafe fic #outer banks #obx #obx fandom #obx fanfiction

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fairuzfan · 1 year ago

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"We have come together as Palestinian academics and staff of Gaza universities to affirm our existence, the existence of our colleagues and our students, and the insistence on our future, in the face of all current attempts to erase us.

The Israeli occupation forces have demolished our buildings but our universities live on. We reaffirm our collective determination to remain on our land and to resume teaching, study, and research in Gaza, at our own Palestinian universities, at the earliest opportunity.

We call upon our friends and colleagues around the world to resist the ongoing campaign of scholasticide in occupied Palestine, to work alongside us in rebuilding our demolished universities, and to refuse all plans seeking to bypass, erase, or weaken the integrity of our academic institutions. The future of our young people in Gaza depends upon us, and our ability to remain on our land in order to continue to serve the coming generations of our people.

We issue this call from beneath the bombs of the occupation forces across occupied Gaza, in the refugee camps of Rafah, and from the sites of temporary new exile in Egypt and other host countries. We are disseminating it as the Israeli occupation continues to wage its genocidal campaign against our people daily, in its attempt to eliminate every aspect of our collective and individual life.

Our families, colleagues, and students are being assassinated, while we have once again been rendered homeless, reliving the experiences of our parents and grandparents during the massacres and mass expulsions by Zionist armed forces in 1947 and 1948.

Our civic infrastructure – universities, schools, hospitals, libraries, museums and cultural centres – built by generations of our people, lies in ruins from this deliberate continuous Nakba. The deliberate targeting of our educational infrastructure is a blatant attempt to render Gaza uninhabitable and erode the intellectual and cultural fabric of our society. However, we refuse to allow such acts to extinguish the flame of knowledge and resilience that burns within us.

Allies of the Israeli occupation in the United States and United Kingdom are opening yet another scholasticide front through promoting alleged reconstruction schemes that seek to eliminate the possibility of independent Palestinian educational life in Gaza. We reject all such schemes and urge our colleagues to refuse any complicity in them. We also urge all universities and colleagues worldwide to coordinate any academic aid efforts directly with our universities.

We extend our heartfelt appreciation to the national and international institutions that have stood in solidarity with us, providing support and assistance during these challenging times. However, we stress the importance of coordinating these efforts to effectively reopen Palestinian universities in Gaza.

We emphasise the urgent need to reoperate Gaza’s education institutions, not merely to support current students, but to ensure the long-term resilience and sustainability of our higher education system. Education is not just a means of imparting knowledge; it is a vital pillar of our existence and a beacon of hope for the Palestinian people.

Accordingly, it is essential to formulate a long-term strategy for rehabilitating the infrastructure and rebuilding the entire facilities of the universities. However, such endeavours require considerable time and substantial funding, posing a risk to the ability of academic institutions to sustain operations, potentially leading to the loss of staff, students, and the capacity to reoperate.

Given the current circumstances, it is imperative to swiftly transition to online teaching to mitigate the disruption caused by the destruction of physical infrastructure. This transition necessitates comprehensive support to cover operational costs, including the salaries of academic staff.

Student fees, the main source of income for universities, have collapsed since the start of the genocide. The lack of income has left staff without salaries, pushing many of them to search for external opportunities.

Beyond striking at the livelihoods of university faculty and staff, this financial strain caused by the deliberate campaign of scholasticide poses an existential threat to the future of the universities themselves.

Thus, urgent measures must be taken to address the financial crisis now faced by academic institutions, to ensure their very survival. We call upon all concerned parties to immediately coordinate their efforts in support of this critical objective.

The rebuilding of Gaza’s academic institutions is not just a matter of education; it is a testament to our resilience, determination, and unwavering commitment to securing a future for generations to come.

The fate of higher education in Gaza belongs to the universities in Gaza, their faculty, staff, and students and to the Palestinian people as a whole. We appreciate the efforts of peoples and citizens around the world to bring an end to this ongoing genocide.

We call upon our colleagues in the homeland and internationally to support our steadfast attempts to defend and preserve our universities for the sake of the future of our people, and our ability to remain on our Palestinian land in Gaza. We built these universities from tents. And from tents, with the support of our friends, we will rebuild them once again."

#palestine #gaza

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probablyasocialecologist · 1 month ago

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What was the purpose of these lies that denied our own sense of sight? El Kurd responds to this question in Perfect Victims and the Politics of Appeal by describing how lies function as one facet of the coloniser’s strategy to distract and change the terms of discourse for the colonised. The purpose of this is to displace — even if momentarily — the coloniser’s violence as the object of critique; to render it indeterminate and in the passive voice, as it were. But lies, with the epistemic fog they create, work in simultaneity with rituals of condemnation forced upon the colonised. Latching onto factual as well as hypothetical violence of the colonised, the condemnation ritual works similar to lies in adding yet another hoop to jump — a caveat, a qualification, or an admission of colonised guilt — before entertaining the coloniser’s culpability. Unlike the coloniser’s recognisably absurd lies, whose function is to exhaust the audience, the imperative to condemn not only displaces critique away from the coloniser’s violence; it not only seeks to place the coloniser’s violence on the same level as the violent reactions of the colonised; but it also “defangs” the colonised. It dehumanises the colonised by robbing them of the “right to complexity, to contradictory feelings, to contain multitudes.” It subjugates them by disallowing the range of sentiments intrinsic to any human being — of anger in the face of annihilation, of irreverence for the coloniser, of ambition or cunningness, of a desire for vengeance, even if in thought rather than practice. El-Kurd cites an example of this imperative, when Palestinian Authority’s ambassador to the UK (a political opponent of Hamas) was called on BBC six hours after an Israeli strike killed six of his family members. “Sorry for your personal loss,” the host cut him short curtly, “but can I just be clear though — you cannot condone the killing of civilians in Israel, can you?” In this moment, the colossal loss of Palestinian life is reduced to background noise, naturalised as an unfortunate outcome of fate and, at best, only grievable as a “personal” disaster. All whilst the Israeli loss becomes a primal violation of the human condition, worthy of collective horror and outrage. This subjugation, or dehumanisation as el-Kurd calls it, is central to the politics of appeal in which the colonised are expected to perform a “perfect victimhood,” to “demonstrate their worthiness of liberty and dignity,” to “respond like automatons” to the psychological cues of colonial logic, and to continually anticipate their shortcomings, which can never really be bridged.

21 May 2025

#palestine #israel #india #kashmir #colonialism

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heathersdesk · 2 months ago

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You are a Child of God

Therefore, it is beneath your dignity to kiss the earthly rings of tyrants and shine the boots of oppressors.

Remember that your kingdom, like Christ's, is not of this world. When Jesus taught that we should render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's, he meant money. Not souls. Not the dignity and self-possession that is ours by birth.

It is against our religion to accept violence from the State—not for ourselves, and not for others. Read D&C 121-123 again. That's what they say. That's what they mean.

How can we hold any other position when the Prophet Joseph Smith was executed through vigilante justice? How can we choose false imprisonment for anyone when it was exercised against our own people so many times?

The God who told our prophet and our people "fear not what man can do" in the face of state violence will not forgive us if we side with jailers of the innocent. Not in this moment. Not in any moment.

Seeking redress against state violence is a sacred duty bestowed upon us by God. D&C 123:7 says "It is an imperative duty that we owe to God" not to allow such things to stand as long as there is anything we can do to stop it.

If you need the words to express to the Trump supporters in your life why supporting the current administration is immoral and unacceptable for us as a people, here they are. To love our neighbors as ourselves means we cannot tolerate their oppression because it (allegedly) benefits us in any way.

God has withdrawn protection and prosperity from our nation because our people have supported and allowed this evil to happen to our neighbors. It will continue until those who are responsible repent. And if they don't, the promised suffering that was promised to our own oppressors will come upon us:

13 Also because their hearts are corrupted, and the things which they are willing to bring upon others, and love to have others suffer, may come upon themselves to the very uttermost;

14 That they may be disappointed also, and their hopes may be cut off;

15 And not many years hence, that they and their posterity shall be swept from under heaven, saith God, that not one of them is left to stand by the wall.

There is moral rot among the Saints in the United States. If we do not purge it from among ourselves through repentance and restitution to those we have harmed through this corrupt administration, we will be destroyed from the earth by that administration. We will fall into the pits we have dug for our neighbors. And we will have no one but ourselves to blame.

#mormon #lds #tumblrstake #mormonism #the church of jesus christ of latter day saints #queerstake #ldsconf

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ottersul · 12 days ago

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Having just finished the new Giant-Size issue, I feel it perfectly encapsulates the long-standing narrative problem in Jean Grey and Scott Summers' relationship. While the artwork is breathtaking, it highlights a dynamic built on a love that doesn't overcome obstacles, but rather pretends they don't exist.

For decades, characters like Madelyne Pryor, Emma Frost, and Wolverine were catalysts for profound evolution in both Scott and Jean. Yet, that development is consistently rendered irrelevant by the narrative imperative that they will always "find each other again." Their reconciliation isn't portrayed as a conscious choice between two complex adults, but as the inevitable conclusion of a pre-written destiny, which ultimately denies them true agency.

While I have my own biases, my core critique is this: I would find their relationship far more compelling if the characters were allowed to earn it. Their transcendent bond would feel meaningful if they were forced to confront their messy, complicated past, rather than simply categorizing decades of essential life experiences as mere deviations from the path.

#x spoilers #x men #x men comics #jott #jean grey #Scott Summers #Cyclops #Phoenix

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fourorchid · 22 days ago

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“Obedient Thing”

— Chapter 5 (End) —

Description: The monotony of your day to day life as a lab assistant is suddenly interrupted upon meeting Viktor, a researcher at the academy, who has a gaze that pulls you apart and knows exactly how to piece you back together. His voice, his actions—they’re dizzying, frustrating—but madly addictive. Curiosity and happenstance seem to render you incapable of avoiding him as you come to terms with the newfound feelings he’s unintentionally (or maybe intentionally) stirred within you.

Chapter Index:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 (here)

— Viktor x fem!Reader | ~5.8k —

Content Warning: dom!Viktor x fem!reader, explicit sex, penetration, edging, blowjob, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex (oops), ejaculation inside (oops x2)

**If you are not 18+, please do not interact**

Disclaimer: The finale is here! Thank you for being patient, I hope the wait was worth it. Not gonna lie, I was squealing and kicking my feet as I was writing this. As always, I appreciate any comments or feedback, thanks again for all the support on this series :)

Enjoy ~

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You didn’t even push back when Jayce said you would be helping Viktor today.

“The Academy—“ he huffs, “They’re putting the pressure on him. Viktor’s been working on this prototype—it’s medical, a brace—something that they agreed would help people once perfected,” He took a long breath in before continuing, “But then they just pushed the due date to the beginning of next week out of nowhere—“

“I don’t mind.” You say simply, cutting off his explanation.

A perplexed look flitted over Jayce’s features, but he doesn’t dare question it. “Oh, uh—great, thank you, he should be in lab 308.”

You readjust your bag on your shoulder as you begin towards the stairwell to the other floor. Admittedly, you were embarrassed to even face Viktor after your last interaction and what it had resulted in. You shake your head of the thought.

Yet, despite that, you still had this urge to see him again. The frustration of it all was outweighed by something more imperative; that same feeling that you were too scared to really examine but too overtaken with to ignore.

You arrive shortly at the other lab, you open the door with a knock as you enter. There he sat, elbows resting on top of the work bench as he fiddled with the component in his hand. You noticed Viktor’s appearance was more disheveled than usual, his sleeves were rolled up haphazardly, his hair tousled from likely running his hand through it one too many times, his brows pressed firmly together in concentration—and he had never looked better.

He glances up after a moment, appraising the intrusion to find it was just you staring at him, still planted firmly in the doorway.

“Hello, Miss y/n. You may come in.” He speaks formally. A pink flush paints your neck and face as you realize he had noticed. You walk into the lab to set your belongings down.

“Is that part of the prototype?” You recall what Jayce had mentioned.

“Yes, it’s a component to a medical brace I’ve been working on—the last part that needs to be attached before I can begin testing.” He explains as you look at the piece in his hands. Your eyes follow his finger as it traces along the mechanism, the action stirring something in you. You nod.

He breaks from the trance of his work, noticing the almost imperceptible shift in your demeanor. He smiled but refrained from saying anything.

Placing the component gently on the table, he stood up. His hand braced itself on your waist as he slid past you to find an extra stool for you to use. The action, so blatantly intentional, catches you off guard. You falter. He returns, placing the stool across from him and moving the component between you both on the edge of the table.

“Please—sit, Miss y/n.” He offers a gentle reminder as to what you were to be doing, your mind now blank. You oblige, sitting down to face him. He looked you up and down before leaning forward and hooking his hand under the stools top, pulling you towards him a bit more, stopping once you were close enough to work on the part together. A shiver ran through you at the proximity.

“Let’s begin.” He states, allowing you no time to process.

Viktor hands you the jointed end as he carefully explains what to do.

“Take these pliers and mark six divots—evenly spaced—around each hinge. It will help ensure the individual pieces don’t slip out of place.” He speaks in a low, precise timbre.

You nod, taking the pliers in your hand to begin on the joints while Viktor worked on attaching a ligament to the other end.

* * * *

Even after the initial hour it usually would take you to settle in, it still required nearly all of your will power to focus with Viktor this close to you. His soft breathing filled your ears, almost hypnotic. And your eyes kept wandering to his forearms as he worked—the rolled sleeves of a man’s shirt were an aphrodisiac in their design, you think.

Suddenly, Viktor moves closer to get a better look at the piece between his hands, his knee now stanced between your legs before subtly pressing up against the inside of your thigh. His eyes flicker up to meet yours as he speaks, “Focus, Miss y/n.” His delivery was stern and made your pulse jump, realizing you had been caught and were now receiving due punishment.

The room feels inexplicably warmer but Viktor’s demeanor gives way to nothing. You decide to ignore it as best you can while you continue marking.

Eventually, you finish all of the hinges, you look up to Viktor. “Hinges are done.” You speak quieter than usual due to the fact that you are so close to each other.

“Good, thank you. You can help me with the last part of this ligament—it’s proving to be rather…temperamental.” He speaks quieter as well, mirroring you.

You do as he asks, and unfortunately for your dwindling composure, the task requires you to lean in even further. Viktor hums softly in satisfaction as you adjust yourself closer to him.

After a moment, Viktor realizes he requires the other set of pliers behind you on the table. He lifts forward slightly to swap them out with the pair he was currently holding, and in doing so, brings his knee right against your clothed center beneath your skirt.

You tremble with a surprised inhale.

And he doesn’t stop there, no, he takes his time retrieving them—even going so far as to brush his knee up and down against you just barely to the point where it could still be plausibly denied.

A half-contained shudder travels down your abdomen at the sensation. Finally, Viktor moves, indicating his return to his seat. But to your embarrassment and pleasure, he makes sure to keep his knee pressed snuggly up against you while continuing his work.

You find yourself insatiable as you act on impulse, pushing yourself a bit harder against his knee. “Mmh—“ You let out a strained hum of pleasure, your cheeks burned red in shame but you were too far gone to stop.

“Miss y/n.”

He speaks your name as a warning, but he makes no move to stop it just yet. You look up to him, needy.

“Can you behave yourself? Or do I need to remind you of your place?”

He chastises you in a measured tone that sent a chill down your back, stopping you in your tracks. But something tells you he was aware of his effect on you—setting you up on purpose. Either way, the tension filling the room was becoming unbearable; so thick you were almost choking on it. He pulls back, removing the pressure you ached for more of.

And it just wasn’t fair. He was the one pointing out your need, inviting you to find some relief from him—insisting, even—but then pulling away each time you acted upon it.

And the worst part—you loved it. You couldn’t stand how much you loved it. Being built up on the edge of ruin at everything he does, entirely at his mercy—and he knows it too.

Your frustration reaches a boiling point.

You set down what you were working on, the ligament clinking against the table. “Who do you think I am? Someone fun to mess with?” You blurt out, standing up to promptly put some space between you both.

Viktor leans back, curious and slightly caught off guard by the outburst as his eyes traced over your hands where they moved to fix your skirt.

“Not at all, I think you are entirely more interesting than that.” He concedes as he stands to walk over to where you stood, still allowing you some space.

“Then could you please treat me as such?” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, a defensive pose.

“What about how I treat you is not to your liking?” He remains cool and calm, the question genuine but not without implication. He clasps his hands together as he stood against the table, lifting his chin as he appraises you.

“You order me around, you—you get me stirred up….” You trail off, Viktor gives you a second to continue but you seem to have already lost steam.

“And yet, despite those things, you obey every command and order, you let me get you stirred up—why is that?” Your words fail you as you both know the reason.

“You are an intelligent woman, Miss y/n, I have no doubt you can come up with an answer.”

You turn away to try and escape the confrontation, feeling embarrassed at your inability to reckon with your own desires. But Viktor insists, stopping you in your tracks with a firm hand placed on your shoulder.

“It is not my intention to back you into a corner,” he speaks, taking a step closer, “But I do need to know that you are okay with this.” He adds, followed by a pause of silence on your end.

“I only command you as much as you allow me to,” he continues, his voice softer now, “I can give and take as much or as little as you give me.” His eyes search your face, trying to decipher the feelings bubbling out of you.

You bring your face back to Viktor’s, exhaling a sigh coated in vulnerability, still unsure what to say.

“I can pull back some if you are overwhelmed—perhaps you would like a moment to sort through what you are feeling?” He suggests.

You shake your head, dismissing the offer. The last thing you wanted was to be away from him—in fact, you wanted the exact opposite. But, regardless, you knew he was right—you needed to be honest with yourself.

You give a single decisive nod, more reassured after both laying your cards on the table.

“I’d like to continue.”

A soft smile splays across his lips at your response.

Before turning back to the project, Viktor reaches out and does something unexpected—running his knuckles down your cheek, featherlight and sweet. The tender gesture sends a flutter through your chest.

You follow him back to the work bench to finish what you both had started.

* * * *

It was not long after until the prototype was completely formed. Viktor tweaked a few things before placing it gently on the table, satisfied.

“Now we just need to test its functioning. Would you be comfortable helping me with the trial, Miss y/n?” He looks to you.

You pause, unsure what that entails. Maybe you were overthinking it.

“Of course.”

Viktor brings his hands to his shirt, loosening the collar slightly in preparation. You swallow softly, your mouth running dry.

He then picks up the intricate brace and starts to wrap it around himself. You take the opportunity to roam over his torso and bared collarbone, appreciating the way his lean frame flexed underneath the fabric of his shirt.

Viktor suddenly stops, confused as he attempts to adjust the brace but something isn’t right. He removes it and tries one more time before eventually sliding it back off again with a beleaguered sigh.

“It seems the measurements are slightly off—the circumference is too small.” He groans. All that work unfortunately did not make the final product immune to such a simple miscalculation.

“Would it fit me?” You sound a bit more timid than you anticipated.

“Well…I suppose you could try. Would you be okay with that?” Viktor’s eyes roam over your expression, searching for any signs of hesitation.

“Yes.” You sound more confident.

Viktor nodded.

He stepped closer to you. “Miss y/n, do you have anything you could use to put your hair up?” he asks.

“Mhm.” You hum as you take the hair tie from your wrist to begin gathering your hair up off your back in preparation for the brace, but Viktor stops you.

“Let me.”

He plucks the hair tie from your hand and takes your hair between his fingers, gentle and meticulous. The way his hands feel in your hair has you just about ready to melt. He brings the tie over to fasten it in place.

“Beautiful” He whispers under his breath, so quiet you weren’t sure you were meant to hear it. Heat crawls up your neck as he pulls away to examine his work.

He circles the brace around in front of him, opening it up to wrap along your torso, securing it in place on your back.

“How does that feel? Loose? Too tight?” His words tickle the nape of your neck in a low rumble.

“Could be tighter, I think.” You breathe out.

Viktor makes an adjustment.

“Now?”

“A little tighter—I promise I won’t break.” Your response comes out a bit more taunting than reassuring but he lets it slide.

With one final pull, he cinches the brace tightly around you, making your breath catch.

“Better?” His voice was lower now as his hands lingered on your waist a second longer than necessary.

“Mhm.” You nod.

“Alright, let’s begin.” Viktor pauses to gather a pad and paper from his desk. He positions his cane under his left arm as he returns behind you.

“To start, I’m going to have you test the brace’s range of motion—just follow my instruction.” He explains calmly.

“Bring your arms straight out in front of you—“

He looks up to see you following along, “And now bring them all way out at your sides.” You continue, no complications yet.

“Good. Now, lift your arms up straight for me.”

You bring your arms up, but halfway through you realize the bottom of your blouse was lifting above the waistband of your skirt—you pause.

“All the way up, Miss y/n.”

You reluctantly oblige, feeling the cool air hit the band of newly exposed flesh above your hips. You hear the pen in Viktor’s hand jotting down his observations on the notepad before continuing.

“Now, bend over for me.” He directs.

You try not to think about it too hard—how that order might sound in a different context.

Keeping your legs straightened, you lean forward as far as you can go. Your skirt rides up, just barely covering what it’s meant to. Viktor exhales.

“Excellent, thank you.”

You return to standing.

“No issues so far? It enables your full range of motion?” He asks.

“Yes, I don’t feel any resistance.”

“Perfect—now we must check the structural stability when introduced to strain. Ideally, the brace can withstand pressure and not produce any significant discomfort for the wearer.” He speaks almost clinically. “This might be a bit painful as we test its limits, so please let me know if it becomes too much for you.”

You take a deep breath in to steady yourself as you wait for Viktor to begin.

You feel his hands resting at the base of your spine against the brace, he begins to press lightly. There’s some tension but you barely notice it.

Viktor waits a moment to observe your reaction. He presses down with more force, you wince slightly. “Still okay?” He asks.

“Yes.” You assure, letting him continue.

He pushes again, this time much harder than before. A noise somewhere between a moan and a hiss involuntarily pushes out of you. He takes his other hand and wraps around to grip your waist as he feels you stumble.

“Too much?” His voice also sounds strained in solidarity.

“No,” you swallow as the pain dissolves, “Keep going.”

Viktor pauses, not knowing whether to admire your stubbornness or reprimand it. He reluctantly continues, keeping your blessing as collateral. His one hand was still braced on your waist, you could feel the heat from his palm seeping through the fabric of your shirt.

He pushes firmly down again. You gasp, feeling a sharp pain shoot all the way up to your shoulder blades.

“Just a little more, you are doing so well.” Viktor whispers calmly into the shell of your ear.

You feel his thumb on your waist brushing back and forth in an attempt to ease you through the pain. You bring your bottom lip between your teeth as you prepare for the final impact.

Viktor’s chin now rests on your shoulder his chest pressed against your back, trying to ground you and keep you upright.

He presses down as hard as he can within what he believes you can handle.

“Viktor—ah—“ You yelp, your vision going black at the searing sensation. You bring your arms behind you, wrapping your fingers weakly around his wrist; effectively tapping out. A heavy pulse thumps in your ears as you feel your knees buckle. Viktor brings you back up against him, keeping you steady as you recover.

“It’s all done—you did very well, Miss y/n.” Viktor shushes you gently as he carefully removes the brace from your frame, setting it aside. His praise sends heat through your body, pooling somewhere lower. He holds you there until your breathing returns to normal. His hand remains at the band of bare flesh at the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles against your skin.

You turn around to face him. And as the pain subsides, you find yourself left with an entirely different mood—something hot and heavy. Viktor’s gaze was locked on yours as he listened to your breathing, caressing your skin, so soft beneath his fingers. There was no doubt he was feeling something similar.

Your eyes flickered down to his lips. He did the same, appreciating the swollen blush staining your bottom lip from where your teeth had been.

Before giving yourself a chance to second-guess, you lean in.

But Viktor was quicker than that.

Immediately he took his hand to grip where your hair was gathered together between the elastic band, pulling your head back to prevent you from getting any closer. He had fully commandeered control of the situation—but it only fueled your want.

“Ah ah ah, Miss y/n, I am not sure you are of sound mind right now” Viktor tsks. You hold your breath, hanging on his every word—just waiting for the green light.

“You see, pain can sometimes blur the line—” he leans in, almost antagonizing, as he brings his face closer to yours. Moving his mouth to your jaw, he starts planting slow, deliberate kisses down your neck.

“Between logic—” kiss.

You bite back a hushed moan.

“And emotion.” kiss.

“So—are you consenting to this?” He’s fully teasing you now, drawing it out until its unbearable.

You whimper, exhausted and so intoxicated by him you have trouble responding.

“Use your words.” He coaxes.

“Please, Viktor—“ He hums at the phrase, giving you a look of tamed lust that was ready to pounce.

“Beautiful start, yes?”

“I want you to fuck me.” You breathe out.

A sound somewhere between a chuckle and a groan vibrates through him.

“Such filthy words” he moves his hand back to your hip, his fingers slip under the hem of your shirt slightly, roaming across your back. “But I do think you are sincere,” he speaks in a deep, almost whisper, close enough to your face for you to feel his words dance across your skin, leaving a red flush in their wake.

“Although,“ his other hand finds its way beneath your skirt, “I might need evidence to be certain.”

He pauses his movement to check in, his stare flitting over your expression, hungry and in wait.

“Mhm,” you hum, too pathetically impatient to find the words, but that was all he needed anyway.

He teasingly brushes aside your underwear, dipping his fingers to your entrance to feel your warm, wet heat as your breath hitched. He moves his fingers up and down slowly before returning to circle your sensitive clit in a drawn out motion. Jolts of pleasure go through you at each repetition and your legs tremble slightly as you attempt to hold yourself upright.

His eyes stay trained on your face, satisfaction curling on his lips as he takes in your reaction. Your mouth hangs slightly open as a gasp catches in your throat. The noises you make were something he could easily find himself getting addicted to. In fact, he was already plotting how to get his next fix.

He then pulls away with no warning, you whimper. He returns his hand in front of him to examine the wet coat between his fingers, as though it were a work of art in its own right, before offering his hand to you. You take his fingers into your mouth, licking them clean in a haze. He finds himself pleased, his own hardening arousal twitching in his pants at the sight of you taking what he gives you.

“On your knees, Miss y/n.” Viktor orders. A shiver runs down your back as you lower yourself to the ground. His breathing seems to become heavier at the positioning of you below him like this—the first obvious sign that this all is affecting him as much as it is you. From the lab window, the dying evening sun casts a halo-ed glow around your silhouette. Such angelic imagery in contrast to the sin taking place—Yin and Yang, he supposes.

He reaches his hands to your hair, freeing it from the fixture—it sweeps down, tickling your back and shoulders. Viktor brushes a hand across the side of your head, running it through your hair almost lovingly before bringing his hand back around to your chin. He runs his thumb across your bottom lip, still glossy with your own arousal—just begging to be used.

“Open your mouth.”

Once your lips part, he slips his thumb inside, pressing into the soft, wet pad of your tongue—already imagining how it would feel wrapped around him. He pulls his hand back with a string of saliva hanging from his finger. It was a beautiful and depraved sight—you on your knees with your mouth open for him.

Viktor begins to free himself from his waistband, his length almost fully hard as he took it in his hand. It was as glorious as you had imagined. He ran his thumb over the tip before stroking it a couple times, bringing it to your mouth. He sets the tip against your tongue and you instinctively bring your hands up to reach for the base but Viktor stops you.

“Hands behind your back—use only your mouth.” He instructs.

You obediently place your hands into each other behind your back, leaning forward to take his length in. You slowly sink onto it, bottoming out as it hits the back of your throat. You managed to take it all in through sheer determination and the inertia of your own arousal. Viktor breathes out at the overwhelming sensation. He returns his hand to your hair brushing it softly out of the way so he could see your mouth stretched around him.

You pull off, this time attaching yourself to just the tip, circling it with your tongue before moving to place wet, sloppy kisses along the shaft. Tender and lewd wrapped in one devastating blow, Viktor groans.

“Look at me.”

You lift your eyes to meet his gaze as you begin sucking his entire length, his own burn golden as he watches. You hum around him as you push his cock all the way in and all the way out, getting faster with each take. You hold eye contact as he had asked—and something in Viktor snaps.

Composure faltering, he suddenly braces his palms on the side of your face before thrusting himself into your mouth a few times, still trying to maintain some form of restraint. The noise from the movement was all together divine and obscene, sloppy as it underscored the selfish pleasure the act brought him.

Wanting to pace himself, Viktor pulls out of you gently. Spit and pre-cum dribble from your lips as he guides you back up on your feet. The need pooled between your legs was beyond unbearable. Like a mosquito bite that ached to be scratched, or a dark-stained bruise that begged to be pressed upon.

He maneuvers you up on the edge of the work bench, steadying you as he captures your mouth in a feverish kiss. He could taste himself on your tongue as he moved deeper. His hands sought control, reaching to your hair once again to pull you back, giving him more leverage. A moan traveled from his lips to yours as you braced your hands against his lower abdomen.

Your shirt was decidedly in the way as Viktor brought his hands up to the collar, gripping the first button. Slowly, he made his way down until the entire garment was open, baring more of your heated skin to him. He trailed his mouth down your collarbone, biting and kissing down your chest.

Each contact elicited a different noise from you—and each noise you made stirred something more urgent in him. An erotic feedback loop neither of you planned on stopping anytime soon.

“So sensitive,” Viktor’s low, warm voice rumbles against your skin, he nips at your throat before pulling back. He can see that you are holding on by a thread.

“What is it, hm? You have to tell me what you want or else I won’t know, Miss y/n.” He taunts, but he knows exactly what you need. A pity, the one time he willfully decides not to read between the lines.

You feel yourself throbbing and desperate at your center, the muscles in your thighs flexing subconsciously. He waits with his hand pressed up against your now wet underwear, the warmth of his palm sending a shudder through you.

“Viktor, I want to feel you inside me,” you whine.

At your words, he swiftly plunges his fingers into your entrance and a trembling gasp flies out of you. Deceptively longer once they were inside, it was impressive how deep they reached.

He continues driving his fingers into you at a relentless pace, curling them slightly to hit a spot that makes your entire body reel.

“Do you want only my fingers, or would you prefer something else?” His voice lilts teasingly as you writhe and whimper.

“Mm—Your cock, please—“ you beg, too wrapped up in the moment to care how depraved you sound.

“Good girl.”

Viktor pulls his fingers out of you once more, rubbing your slick from his hand over his length. You lean back on the table, knocking over a pile of notes in your urgency causing a single pen to roll off the edge, landing with a tap on the floor. As you move your legs apart, he pushes your skirt back and your underwear to the side to line himself up to your entrance. He takes a moment to draw it out even more, taking the tip and rubbing it up and down your folds, circling your clit—

“Viktor, please—I’ve been good.” You whine as you try to make him see reason.

And to your surprise, it seems to work. He begins pushing into you, pausing for a moment to allow you to adjust before finally sinking all the way in. Your moans echo each other at the long-awaited sensation. You feel yourself tighten around his cock, filling you to the brim. God, you felt so full yet you were still greedy for more.

You begin moving your hips back and forth, rutting against him. A sound of amusement comes from Viktor at your action, but he doesn’t give in just yet. Instead, he takes both of your wrists in one hand and holds them in place against the table—partially to maintain control and partially to brace himself on his better leg. His other hand finds your still swollen clit, circling it to feel you clench around him.

“Viktor—ah—“ You attempt to speak but his length presses so deeply inside you that you come up empty. He lifts his hand from your needy clit up to your chest, pulling your bra down slightly. The cool air hits your feverish skin making your nipples harden. Viktor rolls one between his fingers as he speaks.

“Yes?”

“Please, move—” You can’t wait any longer, you might just come undone right now.

Viktor pulls back and snaps his hips into you just once. You gasp out a groan, the sensation makes your entire body catch fire. He’s enthralled with the way you respond to him, spurring him on even further.

He presses his hand against your lower stomach to feel how deep he reaches inside you. He hums in approval at how well you take him.

“You are doing so good, taking me so well.”

And just like that you find yourself tempered, the saccharine praise quelling your restlessness just so. And now that you have you remembered your patience, Viktor continues. He begins moving in and out of you, working you both up to an overstimulating pace. Each thrust was punctuated by an untamed noise squealing from your throat.

Viktor brings his hand to cover your mouth. “It would be in your best interest to be quieter, Miss y/n—”

He pounds into you even harder, his action in direct opposition to the point he was trying to make.

“Or else our colleagues might hear how you sound with my cock inside you—and I’d rather keep that all to myself, truthfully.” He breathes out, not letting up.

The way he exudes control as he speaks, still so proper but with such filthy sentiments—you have never been so turned on in your life. You move your tongue past your lips, swiping them across Viktor’s fingers, he shudders. He opts to push his middle and ring finger into your mouth now, a slightly ineffective but incredibly arousing gag to continue stifling your moans. You take them in graciously.

The way Viktor drives into you so insistent, almost like a prayer, you can tell he is also getting close. He angles himself just right as he begins hitting a spot deep inside that makes your vision blur from ecstasy. A strange feeling starts to build inside you.

“I—I think I need to use the bathroom,” you squeak out sheepishly between tears.

Viktor displays a knowing smirk, not letting up. “Mm—I don’t think you need to go to the bathroom, Miss y/n, I believe you are about to experience something much better.” He promises. You are powerless to stop it and in all honesty, you didn’t want to.

“I’m going to—ah“ your breath interrupts, “I’m so close—“ You do your best to communicate, and he is impressed you even managed to get that far. But you would be naive to think it would be that easy.

“Not yet—not until I give you permission, Miss y/n,” Viktor tells you, although you can tell he isn’t fairing that well either as his breathing becomes more labored and his thrusts become sloppier. The incessant noise of him repeatedly filling you up floods your senses as you hold on to the single shred of willpower he has so kindly left you with.

Your eyes meet Viktor’s in a desperate plea. Your face contorts; a sublime, raw image of perfection. You can’t hold out much longer. He caves.

“Come for me.”

Those three words in that deep, mesmerizing voice were your utter undoing. The peculiar feeling from earlier suddenly snaps as liquid gushes out of you, a string of babbled exclamations and moans involuntarily follows. You convulse and shake, every muscle in your body seized by pure bliss. Viktor brings his thumb to your clit, helping you ride out the high as you tighten around his cock incessantly—he will no doubt follow shortly. The sight of you coming undone like this, so vulgar and unrestrained, pushes him over the edge. And you can’t help the phrase that flies out of you in earnest—

“Please—come in me.” You beg him.

Viktor’s mind goes blank, reason and precaution are cast aside to attend to the fervor of your words—especially since you asked so nicely. He ruts into you, pulling your hips against his own as he releases deep inside, his cock twitching violently. Your praise was sung from his hoarse throat as he moaned, feeling his hot release coat your walls as they continue to clench around him with no mercy.

The come down was nothing short of transcendental as you both take a moment to bask in the after-glow. You pant heavily, your senses worn out to the point you barely realize Viktor’s hand had reached up to cup the side of your fucked-out face. He slowly pulls his length from you, soaked and numb from the high.

“Look at the mess you’ve made,” Viktor coos, his breathing still a bit ragged. “Did you enjoy it?” He smiles affectionately, appreciating the half-lidded state you were in. You laid against the table, spent and with no complaints.

“Yes.” You exhale out the only word you were able to remember right now.

He brushes the hair that was clung to your face through a sheen of sweat away as you sit up, still a bit wobbly. He takes a clean rag from a nearby drawer and uses it to help clean you both off. His touch gentle so as to not overstimulate you. He tucks himself back in his pants. Then he moves to bring your skirt back down for you before refastening your bra and blouse, placing a gentle peck against your forehead once finished.

“I hope you understand now how your patience can be rewarded.” His voice is a smooth, rich sound filling the silence as he runs a hand across your jaw, lifting your chin to look at him.

“Mhmm—”

“Patience is a virtue, Miss y/n.” Your name rolls off his tongue.

“Who said I was trying to be virtuous?” You quip back softly. He chuckles.

“You are right—morally bankrupt suites you much better.” He purrs as his fingers trace down to examine the evidence of where his mouth had been on your skin, the marks littered across your neck and chest in a hedonistic display of ownership.

Now that you had both gotten a taste of the other, there was no stopping it. No denying it. You were, from this point forward, inextricably intertwined.

Hungry as often as you were satiated.

Obedient as much as you were rewarded.

And rehabilitated with each fix of your mutual addiction.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

#arcane #arcane viktor fanfic #arcane viktor smut #viktor arcane #viktor fanfic #arcane fanfic #viktor x fem!reader #dom viktor #viktor smut #viktor x reader #jayce was right

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artbyblastweave · 2 months ago

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To iterate a little on last nights foray into Pratchett Iconoclasm, I don't actually have specific reason to think that he did anything horrid. The point of that post is twofold;

First, it was a response to someone suggesting that Pratchett was "safe" from having his legacy destroyed in the vein of Gaiman, Rowling, Whedon, and so on, implicitly because his death renders him inert; he's out of opportunities to take a reactionary turn, catch twitter brainworms and go off the rails. That's no guarantee of safety when it comes to things like this; the horrible shit that Marion Zimmer Bradley and Alice Munroe got up to, for example, didn't come out until after their deaths. Anyone clinging to Pratchett specifically as The Last Good One is setting themselves up for psychological annihilation if, god forbid, they turn out to be wrong and some scandal breaks post-mortem. Better to not to invest too much psychologically in any high profile creator being A Decent Fucking Person, no matter how much that appears to have been the case.

Two, I think that Pratchett, on the grounds of what he actually wrote, wasn't actually unimpeachable from a progressive perspective; everyone circulates the excerpt about the Vimes Boots Theorem, nobody circulates any of the jokes from Interesting Times. I think he generally gets a pass for that kind of thing in the popular perception because he's understood as a Cool Old Humanist Who Learned and Grew; nobody, least of all me, is actually interested in building a case and litigating the problematic elements of his writing; there's no perceived moral imperative to do so because he's still Our Guy (TM) and unlike many of his contemporaries who've gone down in flames there's currently no evidence that he used his cachet with his fandom to be actively dangerous. But if he were still alive and active, and attempting to position himself within any conversation, he'd almost certainly get more pushback on those past writings just by the nature of the discourse; a badly worded tweet or perceived fence-sitting on a sensitive topic would be enough to get people digging for receipts.

#thoughts #meta #discourse

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changelingsandothernonsense · 1 month ago

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Wips into the Void- Whenever Edition Thursday.

Hello fellow kids, I come baring both writing and the usual art. Thank you to @silly-little-diary @skyrim-forever @sanzas-reverie @pocket-vvardvark for the tags (I'll be looking at posts as I wind down, also if you want to be tagged in these let me know. I'm kinda rebuilding a mutuals list).

Been doing a lot of writing and art recently since I started feeling a little less stressed. It's been good, and I've genuinely enjoyed what I've been making.

So, first we have some more of the Khan render.

Got gold and swords done and now we properly enter all the beads and Joshi's Madstone. I want to do one of him when he's older, post Dragon Crisis. Should be a fun comparison.

Next is a chunk of the paper I've been writing on Ashlander Burials and Mourning Practices. The idea is to write what is intended to be the first draft of a book on Ashlander Culture that Josh is writing for the benefit of his kid.

Please note, this whole section talks about cremation, embalming and mummification as well as animal sacrifices. So fair warning over clicking on the "Read More" button. (1.2k)

This next step, the cremation, is usually witnessed by the entire tribe and is officiated by the Ashkhan and the Wise Woman together.

This is meant to be a joyous time, where we remember the life of the deceased and their importance to the tribe. This usually involves feasting and will be detailed further in this chapter. Our main concern in this section is the preparation and lighting of the pyre. This is where the Ashkhan steps in.

Once the pyre is built, the hunters and scouts inform the Ashkhan, who will then join them in the guar pens on the camp’s outskirts. Usually, the deceased clan will join us for this step, as it is imperative that the right guar is chosen to join the deceased.

We chose to send guar with our dead as it is believed they will help guide us in death as they do in life. Guar are an integral aspect of our survival out in the wastes. They give us companionship, they carry the weight of our camps as we move through the ash, they help alert us to danger, and they provide us with food and clothing. If we did not have guar by our side, the tribe would be doomed to poverty and will either be absorbed into a larger tribe or simply die. This is not a fate we wish for those still living and thus is not a fate we wish to bestow upon the dead.

I, myself, have both observed and naturally, participated in this practice over the centuries in my capacity as Ashkhan. In my experience, we allow the family to choose a guar from our herds, one that speaks to them. A prayer is said, usually one chosen by the family, but “Words on the Wind” remains quite popular. This is when we invoke the recently deceased Ancestor Ghost to accept this first offering of companionship.

After the guar is slaughtered, usually by the Ashkhan, it is then prepared by the hunters. We believe that the bones of a guar calls the beast’s spirit after death, much like our own, and thus we collect and clean them in a manner that reflects how we prepare our loved ones. In this case, we keep a few of the bones, usually a rib or a femur, to inter with the dead. The rest is eaten by the living, and the skins are used to create a very durable leather.

We use the guar’s meat for the feast that occurs in tandem with the funeral pyre, though naturally the edible meat is prepared separately, whilst the organs and remaining bones are cremated in a secondary funeral pyre, so that they are separated from the deceased and the ashes can be collected separately. These ashes will be placed in a specially marked urn and placed with the deceased alongside the chosen bone.

The whole celebration usually runs until the early morning, with guests only dissipating once the pyre has fully burnt itself out, and only the ashes remain. The ashes are then gathered by the Wise Woman and seers into separate urns, one for the guar, one for the deceased and taken back into the embalming yurt. The ashes are then mixed with the same spices and herbs that are used in the ashsalt bath, and the urns are stored until the skin has dried out sufficiently. As stated above, this can be up to eighty days.

What becomes of the skeleton? As mentioned earlier, some of the smaller bones have been cremated alongside the soft tissue and organs. We choose to save certain parts of the skeleton, namely the skull, spine, ribs and pelvis. Sometimes the deceased may want their arms and leg bones saved [the femur is most popular], others specify the whole skeleton [usually the case for Ashkhans]. Regardless of how much of the skeleton is saved from the pyre, the next steps are always the same. The Seers and Wise Woman carefully clean the skeleton, removing any remaining flesh and sinew from them. Each bone is then inscribed with a series of magic imbued glyphs, the knowledge of which even I am unaware. Ilaba’andul-Maesa Ki has told me that generally they use an Ashland variant of the Daedric Alphabet, and it is written vertically along the centre of the bone. It is a practice that allows the deceased Ghost to find their remains upon their first summoning, like a set of instructions the spirit can read to find their loved ones.

There is a long period between this phase and the next, and this time is filled with preparing the deceased a place within our traditional burial caverns [SEE SECTION THREE]. Once the forty to eighty days have passed, the next and final phase begins. This is where the deceased is reassembled and shrouded, ready for their final resting place.

Again, the particulars of this are not widely known outside the Seer circles, but Ilaba’andul-Maesa Ki has explained it to me as such:

The various preserved elements are gathered together and arranged in order of application. The first being the bones and trama root required for the posing of the mummy.

The skeleton is reassembled using the prepared bones and held together with twine. Trama root that has been carved into long dowels that are used to support the skeleton as it is posed into a sitting position. It is usually used to support the spine and as support or replacements for the arms and legs. These are posed according to the deceased’s wishes or that of their clan. Usually, they are holding weaponry or some object that would have been used in life. Books, alchemical supplies or the tools of a craftsman are amongst the objects placed in the mummy’s hands. Though these objects are added at the end.

The heart is hung in the centre of the chest cavity, and the skin is placed around the skeleton and stitched shut with twine, leaving only a few openings for the next phase.

The mummy is then stuffed with the ash from the pyre, giving it bulk but also returning everything to its origin point. Once the urns are emptied, the mummy is then sewn back together.

A final layer of ashsalt is applied to the skin, the belief is that a thin layer will help continue the preservation of the remains.

The mummy is then wrapped in linen bandages, and the various objects the deceased’s clan had gathered are then arranged on the mummy. This includes the aforementioned weaponry and tools of trade, but also includes the deceased’s madstone and robe if they are married, and any jewellery they might wish to have interred. The mummy is then wrapped in a shroud, and a garland of fire fern flowers is placed around their neck. A weaved crown of fire fern may also be placed on the mummy’s head if they hold sufficient rank.

I am sure there are a plethora of nuances in this process that I have missed, as always, each preparation is unique and not all elements will be needed or more may be added at the Wise Woman’s discretion.

The above is our usual method of preparing a body, however, there are circumstances where there may not be sufficient soft tissue to create a mummy. Maybe the dead had been lost and were allowed to decay naturally, maybe they met their end in a way so that their remains are damaged. My father, Ensirhaddon-Ammu Yani am ’Erabenimsun, was such a case.

#wip whenever #my art #my writing #technically joshi's #danger!josh #teldryn sero #nerevarine #Ashkhan Ensirhaddon #ashlander #dunmer #morrowind #the elder scrolls #skyrim #tes #Ashland Burial Head Canons

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theunholybastard · 9 months ago

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Kinktober: October 8th - Praise (Frater Imperator x Female!Reader)

Tags: Light Dom/Sub, Established Relationship, Self-Esteem Issues, Mentions Of Death, Praise, Body Worship, Oral Sex, Riding, Light Possessiveness, Unprotected Sex, Cumshot, Aftercare, Fluff And Smut, 2nd Person POV

Copia stares blankly into the mirror, fiddling with the cuffs of his newly tailored suit. It hasn't been long since his recent promotion, and since Sister Imperator... He still couldn't think about that for long without crying, so he decided it would be easier to bury his grief. He was able to avoid the anguish and anxiety that was slowly eating away at his very core for months, but now that he was seeing himself in the uniform, it's all he could think about.

He almost didn't recognize himself. Change wasn't easy, he already knew that very well. When he first ascended to Papa, he struggled way more than he let on, despite how he prepared for this moment pretty much his entire life. But now the role of Papa, everything he's worked towards for decades, is gone; now what? It's bad enough he had to give up his beloved title, that's fine, he'll get over it, but at the cost of his mother? He couldn't handle it.

A tear escapes his eye, quickly wiping it away with a leather-covered thumb, smudging his eye paints. He sighs frustratedly, smoothing the fabric of his jacket. No matter how much he adjusts himself, he can't seem to look quite right. Everything about this feels wrong. As he sniffles, wallowing in his self-pity, he hardly notices you entering the room, coming up behind him and putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"You look very handsome." You coo tenderly, running your hands up and down the fabric of his new suit, familiarizing yourself with the feeling. Copia smiled, snapping back to reality at the comforting feel of your soft hands, subconsciously leaning in closer to your addictive touch.

You were always there for him, there to encourage and support him through his transition from Cardinal to Papa. You always knew how to soothe the endless pit in his stomach. But despite the years you've been his rock, he worried that this time might be different. But surely you didn't just love him for his status and power. You wouldn't just stop loving him now that he wasn't Papa, you weren't like that... right?

"You flatter me, amore..." He teased, but the playfulness that was usually in his voice was noticeably faltered as a different type of self-consciousness slowly crept over him. "You... You really like it?" He asks hesitantly, his eyes searching yours for even a hint of dishonesty.

"You know I go crazy for you whenever you wear a new suit." You flirt, biting your lip as you look him up and down slowly, like an animal staring down a piece of fresh meat. Copia chuckled, remembering the way you looked at him when you first caught a glimpse of him in his Papal robes. It was a mix of desire, barely contained arousal, and worship, the memory pulling a sly smile from his lips. "Do you like it, Copia?" You asked, tone dripping with concern, causing his heart to sink. It was both a blessing and a curse, to not be able to hide his feelings from you.

"I..." Copia swallows against the lump forming in his throat. "I don't... I don't know, honestly. I should be fine. I've known this was coming for a long time, but still, I just... It doesn't feel right. I mean, come on, 'Frater Imperator?' That isn't who I am." He answered, his voice barely above a whisper. You nod along, appreciating his honesty. You reach your hands up to cradle his face, pulling him closer to you and rendering him unable to avoid eye-contact.

"You're right; That isn't who you are." You say, catching him a bit off-guard. Where were you going with this? "You aren't Frater Imperator. You aren't Papa. You aren't a Cardinal. You're Copia, just Copia. Whatever title you have at any given moment, it doesn't define who you are, it doesn't change you. You're still the same man. You're still the man that I love." Copia's breath hitched at your words, his eyes widening and welling up with unshed tears.

"Your mother would be so proud of you. I'm so proud of you. You're going to get through this, you're going to be fine, like you always are. And I'll be right here next to you, every step of the way." Your kind words trigger the tears to flow from Copias eyes, exhaling shakily as some of the tension in his shoulders loosen from the gravity of your words. You'd really love him no matter what form he took, wouldn't you?

Copia suddenly pulled you close, burying his face in your hair. He breathed in your sweet scent, relishing in the comfort you always provided him. You hugged him back, letting him hold you for however long he needed, running your fingers through his hair soothingly. "I love you, I love you..." Copia murmurs, his voice soft and shaky. "Ti amo, tesoro. Più di quanto tu possa mai sapere..."

You kiss his cheek, your arms wrapped around him like a protective shield. "I love you too, Co-Co. So much..." You mutter, trailing your kisses down to his neck; an innocent gesture at first, but each little kiss lingers for just a moment longer than the last. Copia shivered, the sensation of your lips against his sensitive skin igniting a familiar heat in his gut. Your grip on him tightens, your bodies pressed so tightly together that the two of you are practically melting in each others hot embrace.

"Will you let me show you how much I love you, Copia?" You whisper breathlessly in his ear, your voice dripping with lust. He groaned softly at your words, relishing in the feeling of your body pressed against him, stirring a primal desire within. The last time the two of you were intimate together was before his last show. Since then, it's been complicated, to say the least, caught up in the stress of his new promotion and his mothers passing. It's been a long time, too long. He didn't even realize how badly he needed this, how badly his body had been craving satisfaction, until now.

"Amore..." He gasped shakily, his voice strained with need. "Please…" Your lips were on his in an instant, clashing together feverishly as your fingers tangled in his hair. His hands clutched at the fabric of your clothes, his body responding instinctively to your touch. The room seemed to grow warmer, the air crackling with tension and desire. Copia was completely lost in the moment, his focus narrowing to you, and nothing but you.

You push Copia onto the bed, climbing on top and straddling him, toying with the buttons of his suit, desperately trying to get his clothes off as quickly as possible. He watched you unbutton him, the intensity in your eyes and the hunger etched on your face sent another jolt through his body. He inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you undressed him with an urgent need. He reached up, tugging at your own clothes as well.

"Mmm, amore..." He breathed, his hands roaming over your body, groping whatever part of you he could. "You're driving me crazy..." Your eagerness was both thrilling and overwhelming, Copia's heart racing as you quickly removed his clothes. Every touch, every graze of your skin against his sent a wave of electricity through him, he was nearly in tears once again. "I know, baby, I know..." You purr, yanking off the final piece of his clothing: his boxers, exposing his already half-hard dick.

"Look at you, my sweet boy..." You coo, trailing your hands over every inch of his body, taking your time to truly admire the sight before you. "So beautiful, so perfect. My perfect boy, hm?" You lower yourself down, kissing all over his soft, squishy belly that you've grown to love so much, trailing your kisses lower and lower until you reach his twitching cock. He gasps as you take it in your mouth, moving up and down on his length, sucking him to full hardness.

His hands fisted the sheets, throwing his head back with a groan and spreading his legs as an invitation for you to continue your ministrations. His eyes close tightly, a familiar feeling starting to build up within him. Knowing he's about to cum, you stop, pulling your mouth off of him, causing him to let out a low, guttural whine, protesting the sudden halt of his pleasure. His body instinctively arches towards you in search of more contact, eyes snapping open to look up at you in confusion.

"W-why'd you sto-" His words catch in his throat as he watches you straddle his hips again, only to impale yourself on his shaft. Copia's reaction was immediate and involuntary, his hips bucking up against your touch with a sharp gasp. You moan in sync with him, starting to ride him at a rhythmic pace. "Fuck, Copia! You're so b-big! You always reach so deep inside me, make me feel so fucking g-good..." You whine, a particular slam of his cock hitting the back of your pussy causing the both of you to cry out.

Copia was completely at your mercy, lost in a haze of divine pleasure and ecstasy. Copia was used to being underneath you, having you dominating and controlling him, but this felt different, softer, gentler. No rules or punishments, no slapping, biting, scratching, no degradation. As much as he loves being ruined by your sadistic wiles, this is exactly what he needed right now. Not fucking, but making love.

Copia's noises were whiny and pathetic, his back arching off the bed slightly as the waves upon waves of pleasure washed over him. His hands clutched at your hips, his knuckles turning white as he tried to control his body's reactions to no avail. "Mmm, more," he panted, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly agape. "Please, I need more, I need you."

"I know, Co-Co. I need you, too. I've missed this, m-missed how good your perfect body makes me feel. How hard you make me cum." You huff, bouncing faster on his dick. "You're everything I've ever wanted, Copia. You're perfect for me. You're mine. All fucking mine." You cry sweet praises, moaning pornographically as you ride him into oblivion.

Copia's breathing grew more ragged with each stroke of your cunt, his mind growing clouded by pleasure. Your words, the possessive claim you made on him, send a shiver through his body. He looked up at you, his mismatched eyes dark with lust, his face flushed. "I'm yours," he heaved, the words punctuated by a sharp gasp. "All yours."

It isn't long till Copias whines and whimpers grow louder and more labored, hips bucking up to meet yours wildly, all signals that he was close. He taps your thigh in warning, and with that, you lift yourself off his cock, allowing him to finish all over his stomach, ropes of cum shooting impressively far, nearly reaching his chest. He sighs, thoroughly satisfied, his body relaxing, save for the occasional twitch.

You grab a few tissues from the nightstand, cleaning up his cum- covered self to the best of your ability. Before you could kick back and cuddle up next to him, Copia sits up and grabs you by your hips, pushing you onto the bed, clumsily positioning himself between your legs. "Now it's time to make mia bella ragazza cum, too..."

His tongue delves in your hole, devouring you like a starved man. The tip of his nose rubs deliciously against your clit, and the mixture of clitoral stimulation and the frantic flicking of his tongue has your orgasm hitting you within minutes, already sensitive enough from his cock. Once he's had his fill of your cunt, he plops down beside you, the two of you laying side by side.

Copia lay on his back, a light sheen of sweat on his bare chest, panting. He turned his head to look at you, a ditzy, fucked-out smile on his lips. "I missed that..." he said, his voice raspy. He reached out to take your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. You nod, panting along with him, sweat-dampened hair sticking to your forehead uncomfortably. "Me too..." You agreed.

Copia turned onto his side, shifting a little closer to you. He moved a hand to push a strand of sticky hair out of your face, his touch gentle and tender. He studied your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and slightly disheveled appearance. It made his heart surge with affection. "I've been pushing you away, haven't I, amore?" He smiles sadly, his heart twinging with regret for how he's been handling things as of recently. You frown.

"Honestly? You have. But I don't blame you at all for it, not one bit. You just lost your mother and your title, you've been mourning. It's okay that you needed space. You've been going through a lot, my love..." You squeeze his hand reassuringly. Copia sighed, his brow furrowing slightly as he squeezed your hand back, dissatisfied with himself.

"I just... I didn't want to burden you. I know I'm not the most stable person, and with everything happening... I wanted to protect you from everything happening in my silly old mind." He kisses the back of your hand earnestly. "But not anymore. You are the last person I want to be dishonest with, to push away. Not now, not after everything." He assures, looking down at your intertwined hands, focusing on the feeling of your skin against his. This is all he wants. This is all that matters.

"Besides," He grumbles sleepily, pulling your body close to his for post-coital cuddles that he so dearly missed. "You have taught me I am more than just a title, no?"

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