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skzdarlings · 7 months

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vexatious vixen ; felix x reader ; part 2/2

masterlist.

PART 2/2. READ PART 1 HERE. ( READ ON AO3. )

You always get what you want. When an unassuming security guard named Felix stops your latest venture, you escalate the stakes until he has no choice but to put you in your place.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: romantic comedy. strangers to enemies to lovers. cat-and-mouse. dom/sub dynamics, dom!felix and sub!reader. brat tamer!felix and brat!reader. everything that transpires is fully consensual with implied conversations on kink preferences, and an established colour safeword system before the scene. that being said, they still get a lil kinky. please heed the following content warnings: fear kink/cnc, hiding, chasing, lots and lots of dirty talk, fingering, blow jobs, face fucking, throat fucking, a little bit of crying, penetrative sex. (protected but dirty talk like it's not.)

(chapter word count: 7750 words.)

enjoy! <3

The gentlest nip of a summer breeze moves through the settling blue darkness. Everything feels romantic. Everything except the handcuffs chaining you to Felix, Security Guard of the Year, Man of the People, and Defender of Propriety and Pop Star Penis.

Felix does not look at you as he drags you away from the stadium. He smiles sweetly at passersby, doing his best to hide the handcuffs no thanks to your flamboyant gesticulations, but it dissolves again to that grim, determined countenance.

Felix has an interesting face, so many sharp lines, but the overall effect is somehow delicate. A body of contradictions, slender but strong, a stark masculinity rippling beneath the glittery prettiness he happily indulges in. Blue hair should not look that good on anyone, but you doubt anything could make him look bad. He sparkles like the glitter star on his cheek.

You poke that cheek. A muscle in his jaw twitches. He looks at you sideways, all pretty brown eyes and a constellation of even prettier freckles.

“Do not,” he says.

“Do not what?”

“Just. Do not.”

You obey his demand for silence. For about six seconds.

“So how long have you been a security guard?” you ask amiably.

“You’re really trying to have a normal conversation with me,” he says. “Now? After that introduction?”

“I prefer the term meet-cute.”

“We wrestled on the ground then you handcuffed us together and threw away the key—”

“Adorable.”

“Right.” He picks up his speed. You could easily keep pace but you decide to stagger along like he is too fast for you, whining as he drags you behind him. Felix sighs but slows his pace. To your surprise, he answers your question. “A month,” he says. “I’ve been working there a month.”

“And you’re already gunning for CEO,” you say. “Considering how dedicated you are to bringing justice—”

He slams to a stop. Your chain jingles when you collide, hands smacking together. He faces you. Wisps of blue escape from his half-ponytail to dance across his face.

“I already told you,” he says. “My job is checking tickets. Chasing you down was my personal pleasure.”

“You’re a sick bastard,” you say.

He smiles. It is a gentle smile, seemingly sympathetic out of nowhere, his eyes softening with the lift of his brow. He has an uncanny ability to make softness more threatening than roughness. It gives you a shiver.

“Let me guess,” he says. “You don’t have a job, do you, sweetheart? You can’t hold one down. You don’t know how. Your parents have money and it’s nice, sure, but they were overbearing your whole childhood, weren’t they? Until one day they decided you were grown and just stopped caring. And now you’re out in the world with no more rules and you don’t know how to deal with it. Except by acting out. It’s fun, right? Looking for trouble. Makes you feel something for a minute. Because even though you have everyone fooled into thinking you’re this wild and carefree person, you’re locked up inside. You’re not scared of consequences because you’re already trapped. Oh, uhh, stop me if I’m getting cold, yeah?”

You just stare as he blithely runs his pretty mouth.

“You don’t really care about the prize, it’s just about the chase,” he continues. “You told me I was a good boy, yeah? Your words. And you think you’re bad. A bad, bad girl,” his deep voice drops even more, like the heavy-handed thud of a low blow, striking some place intimate inside you, “but that’s not really true, is it?”

He smiles that particular smile again, full of affection and tenderness, an expression that is completely alien to your brash and aggressive nature.

“Deep, deep down, you just want to be good,” he says. “But you need to earn it to enjoy it, don’t you? You need someone to tell you that you can, that it’s okay. But you don’t make it easy. And you’ve been running for so long, you probably can’t even remember how it feels when someone cares enough to catch you.”

You suddenly feel the weight of the handcuffs. You expected this dull pretty boy to have a hidden mean streak to rival your own, not for him to blast through your barriers and drag your innermost thoughts to the surface. To say nothing of his perfect speculation on your background.

“So what, you’re some kind of stalker with a philosophy major?” you ask.

He is still smiling.

He laughs, a low chuckle. He looks like a star, glittering silver and blue in the moonlight.

“No, I’m not,” he says. “I’m just the same as you. Vexatious, apparently, because I’m all smiles all the time. Just so good, you know?” He is almost theatrical in tone. “Of course, that’s technically the opposite of you. Isn’t it?”

When you don’t answer, he touches your chin, just his fingertips. It is still enough to guide your face to his, locking eyes.

“I said, isn’t it?” he asks, his tone sharper.

If he is insinuating that you are only pretending to be bad, then that means he is only pretending to be good. If you are secretly good, then he is secretly—

His mouth hovers close to yours. He abruptly steps back.

Oh. You blink quickly. Yes. Of course. It is always the real bad boys who take care to be good, isn’t it? He does not need to flaunt it. He can just smile at you.

“Come on,” he says, interlocking your fingers with his. He tugs you along, humming to himself as he leads you down the street. So seemingly innocent. Grinning to himself like the cheshire cat.

You stare at those freckles, the glitter stars, his dimples.

A vexatious vixen, indeed.

“So that Jisung guy,” you say. “The one who gave you these handcuffs. He thinks you’re a nice guy who needs some adventure in his life. It was just a prank gift and he thought he was being funny.”

“Yup,” Felix says, popping the sound.

“Little does he know you’re actually some sick and twisted pervert,” you say.

“Tsk,” he says, looking at you with a cheeky grin, as if to say what a silly girl you are. “I’m not sick. See, unlike you who bothers everyone whether they like or not, I only chase the ones who like to run. Twisted, on the other hand… well…”

The handcuffs jingle, strung around your joined hands like the red string of fate. You look at each other, starlight on your faces, a noisy arena behind you and a game ahead of you.

You smile back at him.

You still intend to win.

It is a twenty minute walk. Your conversation weaves around implications, some very forthright flirtations, and a couple scandalizing explanations. Despite his previous goading, Felix is far more reserved in his desires. He blinks when you describe a very dirty scenario and get detailed. Very, very detailed.

“Um, right,” he says. “Fun as that sounds, I’m pretty sure that constitutes as a human rights violation.”

“So?”

“I, uhh, prefer to do things that don’t get me put on an Interpol watch list.”

“Coward.”

You nonetheless accept this and describe a totally different scenario. He looks a little wan.

“Where would I get a rocket launcher?” he asks when you are finished.

“I dunno, get creative. My friend Seungmin once—oh shit, my friends!”

“Wait, huh? Your friend Seungmin has a rocket launcher…?”

You take out your phone to find a gathering collection of texts from Seungmin and Minho, ranging from teasing you about losing your touch to asking if you got arrested and they need to bail you out. Your friends are a nightmare which is why you like them, but they always get you out of trouble in the end.

You confirm you are safe, that you already left, and that you are trying to have sex with a hot, insane, kinky sadist of a security guard.

“You know I can read everything you are typing right now,” Felix says. “I am standing right beside you. You’re typing with a hand literally attached to mine.”

“Well, mind your own business.” You do not bother hiding your texts.

“You are giving them my name and address,” Felix replies. “It sounds like my business.”

“Well, it’s not. We’ve already established the world revolves around me. You’re the supporting character, pal.”

“Right,” he says. He blinks at the screen. In a more serious voice, he asks, “Do you want the postal code too?”

It never hurts to be thorough. You type the address and send it to the boys.

Good thing you waxed, Seungmin writes.

Felix squints at the screen and tilts his head like a curious cat. “You waxed for a concert?” he asks, giving you a once-over. “What did you think was gonna—”

“I am prepared for every eventuality,” you interrupt. “It’s why I always win.”

He holds up your handcuffed wrists and cocks an eyebrow. “Is this what you call winning?” he asks.

You smirk, your whole expression bright despite the suggestive wiggling of your eyebrows. “Matter of opinion, I suppose,” you say. “And my opinion is the only one that matters.”

“Right,” he says, forcing a frown. Despite his efforts, a smile is tugging at his lips. He suffices to roll his eyes and march ahead, yanking you along behind him. “Come on,” he says. “We’re almost there.”

Once your friends have your information, you put your phone in your little purse. You turn the corner and find yourself looking at an absolutely gorgeous house. Your jaw drops as Felix leads you up the driveway. It is an ostentatious design to say the least. You pass a gate mounted with two lion statues.

“Not my style,” he says when you gawk at the stone kitties. “This place belongs to my parents. They usually rent it out but they let me live here while I go to school.”

“So you weren’t kidding,” you say, a funny sensation in your chest and stomach. “About your background, I mean. You and me really are alike.”

You realize the sensation in your chest is an inkling of feelings. Genuine, heart-felt, soul-stirring feelings. You look at Felix and see a lot of yourself, though he is like a mirror version, exactly the same and completely the opposite. It makes you huff, holding a hand to your stomach like you can control the butterflies there.

“What’s wrong?” Felix asks, pausing at the front door.

“When was the last time you had a feeling?” you ask.

“A… feeling?” he asks. He stands silent for a long moment. When he realizes you are not going to elaborate, he asks, “What kind of feeling?”

“Just a feeling,” you say. “You know.”

“Uhh.” He blinks quickly. “I have feelings all the time. Every day.”

“Wow,” you say. “That sounds exhausting. Explains a lot about you.”

“All right.” He shakes his head. He reaches into his back pocket and fishes out a set of house keys, twirling them around his fingers until he finds the right one.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I threw those keys too?” you ask.

He gives you an exasperated look. You grin.

With a shake of his head, he sighs and unlocks the door. The foyer lights flicker to life and the house alarm starts ringing. It gives you a punch of adrenaline which has the predictable effect of getting your blood pumping. Your body does not know the difference between fear and desire. You have only been here two seconds but you are already licking your lips.

Felix is none-the-wiser. He flips open the alarm panel and punches in a code. It beeps and goes quiet. You look at each other in the soft golden glow of the foyer lamplight. He still looks stupidly pretty, blue hair and glitter, sleeveless shirt and jeans. Unassuming, gentle, sweet. Not at all like he could throw you over his shoulder or manhandle you in the grass. But he can. He did.

“Come on,” he says, tugging on the chain between you.

You feign disinterest but your eyes scour his space. You pass through the kitchen where there is an array of baking utensils drying in the dishes rack. The entire kitchen is clearly maintained with great care. The rest of the space is a little chaotic, shelves and desks and units overflowing with technological equipment that you can neither recognize nor name.

“I build computers,” he says, catching you staring at the pile of miscellaneous parts. “Sorry for the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.”

This is uttered dryly and you wave it away. You do not want to admit you find it somewhat endearing. Your hobbies primarily consist of keeping the local PD on their toes, but you appreciate the practice of a craft. It only adds another layer to this weird dude, pretty but athletic but intelligent but ridiculous but charming but geeky. And just as competitive and crazy and freaky as you.

“Bedroom’s this way,” he says. “And, uh, don’t get any ideas.”

“Too late,” you answer, though truthfully your filthier fantasies are fracturing in wake of the reality of him. The computers, the baking tools, the wall of games and consoles, collectible toys and ughhh why did he have to be kind of adorable and secretly have a personality. Mutual objectification is more your style. Not quivering under a gentle touch and feeling… feelings.

“You look like you are thinking way too hard,” Felix says, pausing at his bedroom door. “It’s freaky.”

“Not thinking anything,” you say, because you are too busy feeling to be thinking. Ugh. You shake it off and push open his bedroom door.

He shakes his head and leads you in. He has a pretty elaborate gaming setup, the rest of the room plain in comparison. His bed is neatly made and you cannot help but envision a mess of sheets. Yes. That is more your thing. Taking that sweet and gentle façade and corrupting it, right down to the core. You want him to lose control. You want to drive him crazy. You want to draw this out, use the handcuffs and—

“Aha,” he says. “Right here.”

He pulls open a bedside drawer. A pair of handcuffs is sitting inside it, the key right on top. He takes it out and immediately unlocks you.

The cuffs fall to the floor. He scoops them up and jingles them in your face.

You stare at them then slowly meet his gaze.

“Oh,” you say. “You evil son of a bitch.”

He looks at you with a soft little pout, like he cannot imagine why you would be upset and you are hurting his oh-so sensitive feelings. But he knew you wanted to play him. He knew you wanted the handcuffs a little longer. Now there is no reason to linger. Now you can just walk out the door and never see him again.

He is going to make you ask for it.

That is not your style. You hate being out-smarted. And you really, really, really hate losing.

“Right,” you say. “I guess that’s it then.”

“Guess so,” he says. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

You are still standing in his bedroom. It is dark but there is an elaborate lighting rig around his computer, all bright blue neon and blinking lights. You are swimming in blue, breathing it in. His hair, the room, and moonlight.

You will never see this colour the same way again. Of that much you are certain.

“Blue,” you say.

His brow crinkles. “Blue?” he repeats.

“Mm.” You look around the room, pretending you are unbothered by the intensity of his gaze. “Red. Yellow. Green. Colours can say a lot, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” he says, exhaled on a breath. The neon light catches the little star on his cheek, glinting at you. He is dazzling. This moment is larger than life.

You take a step back, holding his gaze.

“Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for go…” you drawl, backing out of his room. “It’s amazing what you can say with just a colour…”

“Uh-huh,” he says. He looks at you like he did at the arena, maybe even more intensely. Now he knows what you are capable of doing. Now you understand each other.

He follows you, assessing every step you take. There is a subtle flex to the lean muscles of his arms, reminding you that while he is beautiful, he is also capable of more.

“And what does blue mean?” he asks. “To you?”

You walk backwards, an unspoken understanding that once you turn your back, the game begins. So you hold his gaze, smirking, inviting. The foyer lights flash on and gold light fills the space between you, casting shadows across your smiling faces.

He walks like a predatory cat, slow and smooth. His confidence is easy. He needs no grand display of machoism. He just smiles that pretty pink mouth. The glitter on his cheek sparkles.

“Blue is the colour we show on the outside,” you say, “when deep down we really want something else.”

“I see,” he says. Abruptly, his intensity vanishes when he laughs and says, “Put it back.”

Somehow, despite diverting his attention, he still saw your slight-of-hand. You swiped the closest object, a little jewel-encrusted clock on the nearby table. You waited until your body obscured the view but he still saw.

He can read you that easily, predict your moves that well. Because it is not as though he loves the clock. It stands out from his things, clearly one of the ostentatious designs, courtesy of his parents. You can read him that easily too. He does not like gaudy, shiny little knick-knacks. He likes neon and blue and you.

“Put what back?” you ask. You have reached the front door. Your hands are behind your back, the bauble in one, the other twisting the doorknob.

“I’m not gonna ask twice,” he says.

You push the door open.

“I’ll give it back, if that’s what you really want,” you say. With a suggestive little smirk, you ask, “So what’s your colour?”

Red to stop. Yellow to pause. Green to give in.

“Blue,” he says. To play.

You smile. You hold up the bauble, wink, then zip it into your purse.

“In that case,” you say, “you’ll have to catch me first.”

His expression changes in an instant, that playful giggling gone as quickly as it came. He breathes and it fills him, makes him look sturdy, makes him look ready.

“Sweetheart,” he says. “Don’t make me do this.”

The softness of the pet name is completely undone by the dark tone of his voice. There is nothing soft about him. He is ice cold blue and burning red heat at once, searing you with his eyes, the way they rove your whole body. You feel each glance. A shiver races down your spine. Instinctively, your body braces itself, fearful of that voice and that gaze.

It also gets you so, so hot.

All that tension snaps.

You turn and run, bolting down the driveway and past the fancy gate. You are quick on your feet, practiced and lithe. You show him no mercy this time. Earlier you were unprepared, severely misjudging his capabilities, but you will not make the same mistake again.

You glance over your shoulder. He is no where to be seen so you slow your pace, bemused.

A minute later, he comes tearing around the corner and your heart starts pumping again. Just like back at the arena, he grins as he thunders after you.

An instinctive little yelp leaves your mouth. You resume your pace, booking it for the corner of the block. There is a little patch of green park so you run there, disappearing between the bushes.

It seemed like a good idea but the streetlight barely breaks the thick tree branches. It is darker and eerier here, genuine fright overcoming you. You come to a clumsy stop, fumbling with your purse to grab your phone. A flashlight will stop you tripping, but it will also lead Felix right to you.

You hear him behind you, clambering through the bushes. Your heart leaps. The darkness makes you forget this is all pretend. You run without a light, dashing down the narrow path and squinting for even a glimpse of street light. You need to get out of the bushes otherwise you risk falling on your face, then he will be right on top of you in seconds. But running on the road will expose you too quickly.

You will not surrender that easily. He knows that.

Torn between the garden and the road, you get a brilliant idea. You dash back onto the street and hope it takes him a minute to follow. He is not behind you so you race back to his house.

There is no way he will circle back here. He knows you want a chase, so a chase is what he anticipates. He would never guess you ran back into his house. Oh, you can’t wait for the look on his face when he finds you perched on his bed, feigning boredom as you wait.

You run back up the driveway. The front door is closed and you crash right into it, assuming it would be unlocked. Nope. He locked it. Maybe that is why he was delayed.

You spin around, halfway expecting to find him there, ready to push you up against his door and cage you in. But no, you are still winning. He is undoubtedly still running through those bushes. He will circle the whole block before heading back here.

You hurry down the side of the house, looking for any open windows. You do not think he had time to set the alarm. Did he? Maybe that is why he was so far behind.

The side gate is unlocked so you slip into the backyard. You come to a surprised stop because it is a beautiful landscape. The greenery is pristine and there are little couches and chairs scattered around. There is a shed, some storage trunks, a fire pit. In the middle of everything is a pool, sparkling blue in the golden lamplight. Of course.

You do not rush. You cross the yard in a slow walk, taking a moment to catch your breath. You strategize your next move. Should you pose on one of the pool chairs? Wait by his back door and knock when he gets home?

Your thoughts are interrupted by a low hum. Someone is making their way down the side of the house.

You panic. You are often caught scampering around places you are not supposed to be, so instinct propels you to hide. You run to one of the storage trunks and duck behind it.

No sooner have you hidden does Felix stroll into the backyard. He is a little dishevelled, a few strands of hair escaping from his half-ponytail, but he seems mostly unbothered. He moves at a leisurely pace, humming to himself as he swings the gate open.

He pauses there, leaning against the tall fence. You are quite certain the world has never been this quiet.

“I know you’re here,” Felix says, his deep voice shattering the silence.

Your heart leaps into your throat. You should have known better. Of course he had the same idea as you. Now what? How can you outsmart someone who can predict your every move?

You peek around the storage trunk. Felix is smiling, all dimples and delight. Even his eyes are glittering as he swings the gate shut. He looks across the yard as he curls his fist around the padlock. He slams it shut, effectively locking you in with him.

So that is why he took so long. He unlocked the gate before giving chase. He laid a trap and you ran right into it.

His walk is more of a prowl, a slow but steady tread across the grass.

“Come out, come out,” he sing-songs, uncannily chipper.

You cannot believe you are about to be beaten so quickly. It has your head spinning, your heart racing from your run, your adrenaline pounding as he approaches.

Your heart tempers itself when he stops. He pokes his head around the fire pit to see if you are hiding there.

“Sweetheart,” he says, casting his gaze around the yard. “You don’t need to hide. I promise I’m not mad.” He strolls around the pool, looking from here to there, even up at the trees. He hums thoughtfully to himself. “Now, now… If I was a troublemaker who needed to learn a lesson, where would I hide…” He ducks behind a pool chair, frowning. “Hmm, hmm, hmm…”

He stands for a minute, tapping his chin. You want to glean some semblance of your surroundings, but you do not want to take your eyes off him. You are convinced if you do, he will manifest right beside you. So you look at the house then at him, the gate then at him, the trees then at him. You almost want to scream. He is not even moving and he has you completely captivated, every last sense in your body attuned to him.

“Pleeeeease,” he says in a long drawl, a cute little tone. He ambles over to a different storage trunk and lifts the lid. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

He slams the lid down so hard it makes the unit wobble. Even though you are far away, it makes you jump. You have to cover your mouth to stop a yelp from escaping.

You stare as he leans over the other unit, peering behind it. He huffs in frustration when he finds nothing. Despite the angry grimace, when he stands upright, he is wearing that saccharine smile.

“You’re hurting my feelings, sweetheart,” he says. “I thought we were turning into friends. Don’t you want to be my friend?”

He flings a chair out of his way, then swiftly drops to his knees to peer under the picnic table. He is getting closer, bit by bit, which is somehow more terrifying than if he beelined right at you.

He is giving you time, you realize. He wants you worked up. He wants your heart racing. He wants you quivering and soft and afraid.

You look around frantically, searching for an escape.

Your hope rises then plummets. The back door is ajar but that is an obvious trap. It leads into the house but there is no way you are crossing the yard without him seeing you.

You jump at another slam. It was the shed door. He is stepping inside it, rifling through the yard tools in case you are crouched inside.

“Come on,” he says into the shed. “Don’t be scared.”

You take a deep breath. You have only seconds to cross the yard while his back is turned. You do not waste another moment, jumping to your feet and running as quietly and as quickly as you can.

He is just as quiet. You shriek at the sudden arm that catches you, just like it did at the arena. Felix tackles you onto the grass again, pushing you down on your back and covering your mouth.

You wrestle him, just like last time, ignoring his laughter as you claw and bite at him.

“You’re a little mean, you know that?” he says, waving his hand after narrowing dodging your teeth. He dives back in, undeterred, grabbing your face in one hand. “Yeah, that’s it,” he says. “Fight me. Brat.”

You do not surrender easily, but he manhandles you with the same effortless skill as before. There is no doubt he has training that you lack, flipping you in his arm then pushing you down on your front. You kick your legs as he straddles your backside. He brings your hands together on the base of your spine.

You know what is coming and it makes you shriek with frustration. Just like last time, he slaps the handcuffs on your wrists and locks your hands behind your back.

“You stupid little—” you start, your words stifled when he puts his hand over your mouth and yanks your head up. He holds the handcuff key in front of your face, then makes a show of throwing it. You are pretty sure it is still in his fist, but the very idea has you whimpering into his palm.

“That’s better,” he says, slowly taking his hand off your mouth. It hovers like he expects you to start screaming. You just exhale heavily, glaring. “All right,” he says. “Very good. Come on.”

You play at obedience long enough to get off the ground. He helps you stand, then you immediately kick at him. He tries to grab your leg but you dodge the swipe of his hand, running the opposite way.

Your balance is thrown, dizzy from the takedown and the handcuffs. He catches you quickly. You yelp when he sweeps you off your feet, boasting all that hidden strength again.

He carries you over to the deck where he drops down, sitting with his legs spread to fit you in between. With your back to his front, he pulls you against him, an arm across your chest to keep you pinned together.

��Oh fuck you,” you say, wriggling helplessly.

“Not quite,” he says, laughing. “I’ve been picturing something else.”

He covers your mouth again, catching your shriek when he tugs your shirt open. The flannel falls down your shoulders and he yanks the tank top down, getting a handful of everything you inadvertently flashed him earlier.

Despite the force of his initial touch, he is not rough. You might have kept your cool if he was; you are used to rough, fast, hard. But his hand is tender, almost loving, a slow touch that trails from your neck down your chest, thumb circling the peak of your nipple before he squeezes your curves in the cup of his hand. It is maddeningly slow and careful, your whining trapped in the palm of his hand.

“This is what I was picturing,” he says. It sounds like a growl, his deep tone just above a rough whisper. His lips graze your ear and you shiver.

You gasp, taking in deep gulps of air when he frees your mouth. A weak whimper is all you manage when he hooks his legs around yours and pries them apart. His hand dives down to your shorts, making swift work of the buttons.

“Yup, just what I thought,” he says as his fingers sink inside you. “Do you feel that?” he asks, as if your attention could be on anything but the thorough, rolling touch of his fingers, torturing the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. He slides his fingers into you with no resistance whatsoever. He starts finger-fucking you, laughing when you moan, when you rear up under his hand for more. “Mmm, yeah, you want it don’t you?” You try to resist but it is hard, especially when he teases you, making you chase him with your hips. He just laughs again, slowing his touch maddeningly. “God, that’s hot,” he says. “You might be a brat but your pussy... It’s begging for it, isn’t it? Does it like this, sweetheart, hmm? Hmm?”

He is absolutely torturing you, rubbing those swollen nerves to the crest of an orgasm then withdrawing, again and again, until you swear it burns. You make a strangled sound, clutching his hand on your chest, still cupped possessively on your naked breast.

“Tell me,” he says. “Tell me how much you want me to make you come.”

“Mmmph,” is your oh-so intelligent reply.

“You can do better than that,” he says. “Come on. Show me how much you want it. You can’t lie to me, sweetheart. I can feel it, hmm? Gonna feel it when you come. Gonna feel your pussy get nice and tight around my fingers, asking for it, baby—oh yeah, what’s that? What’s it want?”

“Ugh, fuck you,” you whine.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart,” he says. “Fuck you. You can run that pretty mouth but I know what you really need. You’re gonna be begging me for my cock, to fill you up and make you feel all full for real. Isn’t that right? Go on. Show me you want it. Show me.”

Your chest is heaving. Your eyes close. You concentrate on that orgasm, chasing it desperately. It approaches rapidly and your thighs start shaking.

He covers your mouth again, once more predicting you. He knows you are about to come. This time he takes you right over, groaning in your ear, clutching you tight while never once slowing the deft thrust of his hand. You scream into his palm, the intensity of the orgasm washing over you. The blue light of the pool flickers even with your eyes closed, seeing nothing but blue, blue, blue. He surrounds you, his voice, his moans, his touch.

Your hips buck, your heart skipping a frantic beat when pleasure turns to sensitivity. He chuckles but stops, dropping his hand off your mouth. You catch your breath, slumping against his chest.

He touches your face with the hand he just used to fuck you, wet fingers streaking across your mouth as he turns your head. You blink at him and part your lips just for him to shove his fingers in your mouth. You cannot help but moan, eyes closing as you suck the tangy wetness right off his fingers. You watch when he takes them back, when he licks them for himself. Strands of blue fall across his forehead. He looks as flushed and filthy as you feel.

He grins around his fingers. Then he grabs the back of your neck and pulls your face to his. He kisses you for the first time with the taste of your pussy on both your mouths. His kiss is deep and bold, as if you are already his. You are dizzy when he stops, gasping when he pecks your lips with sweet, chaste little kisses.

“Gonna uncuff you now,” he says softly. “Because for what we do next…” He grabs you by the throat and you mewl, clenching around nothing when he rolls his hips under you, showing you how hard he is. “Yeah, sweetheart. For that, I need all of you.”

You sit quietly while he uncuffs you. You feign complacency, standing on shaky legs when he guides you upright. You fix your shirt, glaring at him, though it is a little harder while you are still catching your breath.

He was right about one thing; you need him like you have never needed anyone. You are throbbing, completely and totally aching with the loss of his touch. You have never felt such clear pulsations, your body begging for more even while your expression is petulant.

You follow him to the open door. One step, two steps.

Then you say, “Blue.”

You take off running into the house.

He laughs incredulously, not even making an attempt to grab you.

He slams the door shut behind him. You skid to a stop in the hall, listening to the gentle beeping of the alarm as he arms it from the inside. It is the same quiet threat as the padlock; there is no escape.

Giddy, excited, practically vibrating with anticipation, you run and hide. There are boxes and tables piled high with gadgetry, not to mention his couch and bookshelves and general appliances. Plenty more places to hide than that big back yard. And when he finally does find you, when you have worked him up the way he worked you up—

That is what winning is all about.

You sit in your hiding place, breathing hard.

“Sweetheart,” Felix says in that too-sweet voice. His footsteps are slow, unhurried, casual. “Stop hiding. I said I didn’t want to hurt you, but if you keep this up…”

You peer at him between some boxes. He stops in the middle of the room, catching his breath too. The glittering amusement has left his eyes. They are narrowed, his flushed cheeks and sweaty hairline only exacerbating his predatory air.

He unties his half-ponytail, then bends over to run his fingers through the length of it. He flips back up, all that blue falling prettily in place. He licks his lips as he prowls through the room, looking behind boxes, ducking under tables.

You shuffle with him, moving when he does. He checks your previous hiding space with a jaunty, “A-ha!” then curses.

“Come on now,” he says, turning around. He smiles like a shark, all teeth, hungry despite the innocent flash of a dimple. “You’re only hurting yourself,” he says. “I know you, sweetheart. You’re in here somewhere, and you can’t tell me you’re not thinking about what it’s gonna feel like when I catch you, yeah? Hmm. You’re fast. I bet you’re flexible too. I bet I can get you into all sorts of positions. Get you making all sorts of noises for me…”

It is a struggle to be quiet as you move. Your limbs are still shaky. Every word out of his mouth makes your breath catch.

You swallow hard, freezing when he pauses. Did he hear that? Maybe not. He turns the other way, heaving a deep sigh before he laughs. It lacks amusement, a harsh sound as he turns and turns.

“Come out, come out,” he sing-songs. In a harder voice, he snaps, “Stop hiding from me.” Then he smiles again. He turns in your direction slowly. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

You cover your mouth, cowering down when he seems to look right at you. Your heart is pounding so hard, you would not be surprised if he could hear it, even feel it, shaking this whole damn house.

“If you come out on your own,” he says, “I promise to make you feel good. You’ll come so hard, you’ll forget how scared you are.”

You keep that hand over your mouth, fighting to keep quiet. It stifles a shriek when he suddenly waves at you, a drole little finger-wiggle.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he says. He crouches down, putting himself at eye-level, peering between the boxes that shield you. “Don’t make me come get you,” he says. “I’ve been nice, haven’t I? Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.”

You shuffle to the side. He slaps a hand over his face, shaking his head while he laughs.

“Right,” he says. “Fine. We’ll do it that way.”

You bolt when he does, shrieking as you clamber around some equipment to get away. You manage to escape to the foyer, cursing when the automatic lights flash on. It feels like a spotlight, illuminating you in the middle of that big empty space with no where to hide.

You can hear Felix stomping after you. You scurry into the kitchen, looking around frantically for somewhere to hide.

You yelp when he bursts in behind you. This time, he does not give. He grabs you roughly when you try to run again. With very little effort, like you are scarcely more than a mild inconvenience, he lifts you off your feet and slings you over his shoulder. He says nothing while you curse and squirm and slap his back.

“You know what I wonder?” he eventually says, marching you right into the bedroom. “I wonder… if I make you cry, is that gonna make you tighter, you think?” He slides you down his body, holding you flush against him. He smiles. “Worth a shot, no?”

And then he handcuffs your wrist to his wrist and tosses the key across the room.

“Oops,” he says.

He grabs your throat and you gasp, spilling onto the bed when he pushes you. He puts your on your back then straddles your chest, swiftly unbuttoning his jeans.

“Open up,” he says, practically prying your mouth open, just giggling when you bite at him. “If you bite me,” he says, two fingers shoved deep in your mouth, “I promise, I’ll give you something to be fucking scared of.”

You were right. You will never see the colour blue the same way again. You will never be able to settle for anything less than Felix again.

With a whimpery sigh, you relent, blissful as your mouth falls open. He shoves his clothes out of his way, just enough. He is rock hard and wet at the tip when he guides your mouth around his dick. He cradles your head gently, even if the rest of him is not gentle.

You moan, your pussy literally twitching for attention as he shoves into your throat and makes your eyes water. You take him well and he groans, pulsing in your mouth when tears start running down your face. He fucks your mouth and throat, a back and forth that has your seeing stars. Eventually he pulls back, laughing as runs his fingers through his hair.

“Oh, baby,” he says. He reaches down to wipe a tear. “I wanted to do that the second you started mouthing off to me.”

“Asshole,” you say, though it comes out with a giggle.

He laughs, sliding down your body to get between your legs. He gets your shorts and underwear out of his way, kissing across your pussy and up your stomach. He lifts your shirt and crosses your breasts with his mouth, leaving little bite marks in his wake.

With the hand cuffed to yours, he interlocks your fingers sweetly, pressing it into the mattress. Then he swoops up. He kisses you, his tongue a soothing touch after everything.

You moan, literally shaking with need as he smiles against your lips. He speaks in that low, rasping voice when he says, “I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you realize you’re gonna come all over my cock.”

“Oh god,” is your rough reply.

“It’s Felix,” he says. “You’re gonna be screaming it in a second, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

He has a condom in his bedside drawer. Though you see him put it on, he still leans down to dirty talk, holding your throat as he whispers, “Was gonna be nice and wrap it, but you don’t like it nice, do you?” He spreads your legs with his own, pushing down with his hips. You whimper when the head of his cock glides over where you are very wet and very needy. “No, sweetheart,” he says. “I’m gonna have all of you. And you – are gonna – take it.”

He punctuates this with short thrusts, gradually easing inside you. You moan, canting your hips to meet him, needing more. When he starts fucking you in earnest, your whole body gets pliant like it never has before. You let him hold you, tethered to him by the handcuffs and something else, something to do with those feelings inside you. You let them melt into the physical sensations. When he touches you, working you into an orgasm while he is deep inside you, it all washes over you. You come with a cry, screaming his name just like he said.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he says. Your bodies are flush together, chests touching, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. His face is in your neck when he laughs. It is not a fake laugh, not coloured darkly, but ringing with true amusement. “What’s your name?” he asks.

You laugh too, whispering it against his mouth when he leans in to kiss you. He groans, kissing you, and says your name against your lips when he comes. It binds you to him more effectively than the handcuffs.

You lay there for some time afterward, all that pent-up adrenaline taking its time to dwindle. He lays on your chest, your free hand in his hair, stroking it. Eventually he looks at you with wide eyes.

“I’m not, you know, like that, I mean—” he says.

“I know,” you reply, massaging the nape of his neck. You get uncharacteristically bashful. Usually your partners, being more dominant, are the ones offering consolation to you, and you seldom need much. Felix, you can tell, needs something, and it draws something out of you that you hardly knew existed. Something tender and soft, that enjoys touching him and soothing him and making him smile.

“Do you still have that, uh, feeling?” he later asks.

You nod. He smiles.

“Me too,” he says.

“That’s nice. Can we get the handcuff key now?” you ask, making him laugh.

The handcuffs end up on the floor with your clothes.

This is usually the part where you run away, but you think you are done with running for a while. You lay down with Felix, side by side, washed in the neon blue light. You take a breath and roll onto his chest, resting your head there, and he runs a hand down your back in a soft caress.

“I’m just glad I didn’t wax for no reason,” you break the silence, making him snort. He slaps a hand over his face, shaking his head. “What! Don’t look at me like that or I’ll try and sneak into another concert when you’re on the clock.”

“Mm, will you?” he asks, grinning. “I better be prepared.”

“Oh no, I’m not messing with you. I’m picking an easier target next time.”

“I’ll find you anyway,” he says. “Can’t hide from me, sweetheart.”

“Hmm,” you say, hiding your face because that squishy feeling in your chest is back. “I still won this round.”

He lifts your face so he can look at you. Your eyes close when he swoops in and kisses you. You can’t even pretend to be annoyed with him anymore. Vexatious vixen, indeed.

“I think,” he says, “we might have tied this round, sweetheart.”

“Fine,” you say. You kiss again, long and sweet. Then you bop him on the nose. “But next time it’ll be me.”

He sighs but smiles, shaking his head. Then he cups your face and pulls you in for another kiss.

#lee felix x reader #felix x reader #lee felix smut #felix smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #lee felix x you #skz x you #stray kids x you

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aces-and-angels · 3 months

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URGENT PSA: DELETED GFMS UPDATE- PLEASE READ

the detective hat is screwed on tight gang- i just remembered that the wayback machine exists and have been able to gather some additional information regarding the deleted gfm campaigns for omar, raina, and iman:

all the info is under the cut

---

see the info on the site yourselves by using the following links:

iman: https://www.gofundme.com/f/jhcjrv-help-imans-family-find-safety omar: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-me-to-evacuate-from-the-genocide ran/raina: https://www.gofundme.com/f/displaced-gaza-family-seeks-help-after-war-destroys-lives

my hunch was correct: these campaigns were not formatted in the way gfm requires in order to stay operational. i detailed the common reasons why gfm's may be terminated in a response post to @rubashabansblog but i will include it again here:

ruba- i have figured out the following info from my own research. there are several issues that can result in a gfm being suspended. the biggest issue comes from how the actual campaign is written. the key is being transparent. that means everyone that is benefiting from the campaign must be listed out by name (there may be a rule about specifying any minors/kids' ages as well) + locations. the issue also may be linked to whoever is organizing these campaigns on behalf of these families. another part that needs to be addressed fully is who will be handling the money. essentially if at any point in the transfer of funds someone is responsible for holding the money raised, they need to be listed on the account plainly and on the actual donation page as well. example: person a is organizing this fundraiser on behalf of person b. the last issue i can think of from everything i've read involves keeping an accurate account of the family's expenses. meaning that you need to write down everything that you are spending the money on. since there's no way to print actual receipts- gfm is asking people to write everything down on their notes app with their phones. these notes count as "receipts" and the total amount must always equal the amount the person/people are trying to raise. example: say i am raising $10K to evacuate, but am planning on putting aside $3K for other future living expenses like rent -> all of that needs to be documented fully. basically- as long as goal amounts match up to your expense report- the campaign should be fine. i understand that some families may need to keep raising their goals in order to cover the cost of living before they are able to evacuate. if that is the case- each time they raise/decrease the goal- i believe they need to update their gfm page to address the new total costs for their fundraiser. please forward this information to the affected families when you get the chance 🖤 perhaps this new info can help them solve the problem on their end *edit: another problem i forgot to mention- the currencies must match between the fundraiser and the bank account it is linked to. this means that if the fundraiser is in euros-- the bank tied to the account must also be in a country that uses euros as their primary currency. a US-based bank account would not work if the fundraiser is in euros.

all three campaigns have the same characteristics: not enough info is being disclosed in the fundraisers. another common theme: they are all recently made (may 2024). the decision to evacuate is a painful choice for families to make as none of want to be displaced yet again- but the situation in gaza has prompted many families to make this decision in an attempt to save themselves + their loved ones. the issue is that many of those who are now choosing to make campaigns are not aware of the ins and outs of how to properly start a gfm (+ i'm most certain there are other factors at play as to why this keeps happening to families in desperate need of aid).

this is bound to happen again and again unless this information is being spread widely. which is why i am also asking for this:

please share this w/ anyone who is fluent in arabic that can translate this in its entirety (DO NOT TRY TO USE GOOGLE TRANSLATE). i have a lot of new followers from 🇵🇸, some of them with newly made gfm pages that may be at risk of being frozen if they do not correct the issues i've addressed above. this information is vital to ensuring they are able to continue fundraising.

i have seen campaigns launched in june formatted similarly to the three that have been abruptly terminated. obtaining a stable internet connection in gaza requires people to put themselves at greater risk as they travel to locations with a working signal. people have been brutally murdered by just trying to activate the e-sims being sent over. so it makes sense that these newer campaigns made by these families would not have all the necessary info required- as these guidelines may be difficult to obtain on their end/may be worded in a way they cannot understand (you try reading the terms and policies of gfm yourself and tell me how fast your brain shuts off- and you're doing so in the comfort of your own homes. imagine what it's like to do so while facing constant bombardment).

a mutual of mine has already tried to contact gfm on behalf of omar- and they have informed me of gfm's response to their question:

Omar has already contacted them and is apparently in contact with the team according to the person i chatted with. they cannot disclose to me *why* the fundraiser was terminated they said they are working with Omar to solve the issue. if the issue cannot be solved, the money will be refunded to everyone... ^ this "contact" is likely using the same chatbox the rest of us need to use in order to even speak to a representative at gfm one-on-one. a very annoying system, but unless someone has a direct line to gfm- it is our only option.

we need to mobilize right now and put pressure on gfm to give these families the time they need to rework their campaign pages.

through the wayback machine i was able to figure out the organizers for each campaign.

omar is the organizer for his own -> says he is located in vienna but that is in direct conflict w/ the location he says he is in under the fundraiser info (displaced in rafah). i'm unsure if he has a contact in vienna that is actually the one responsible for holding/transferring the money, but this information needs to get to them so they can try to fix the issue ASAP

the other two have beneficiaries listed, but there could be additional problems with how that whole thing is currently set up.

i still do not know the emails for raina/iman's gfm's (and the wayback machine doesn't let you see the contact info on the archived pages 😓) but- we can try to mobilize right now for omar. he is absolutely devastated and has lost hope that he will be able to recuperate the money he has already raised. this is not the time for the rest of us to lose faith in his cause.

for anyone interested in helping out- i have laid out all this information so you can question gfm directly. if you come in knowing your stuff, they may be more receptive in their responses than the first initial attempts. please contact me directly if you wish to email on omar's behalf so i can forward you his email linked to the gfm account.

tagging for more reach: @appsa @palms-upturned @malcriada

#not choices #signal boost #🍉#sorry for any typos #this is hella long but pls read it all the way through

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impatientpandersrevised · 12 days

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How they found out you were a switch

I'm still begging someone to do this idea better than me. I'm really not a great writer and I'd love to see your spin on it.

Also none of this was beta read.Haha. you're getting it as is.

You followed lilly and her girlfriend around the "toy" store. You weren't really sure how you ended up here, but you sure weren't complaining. The world narrowed when you stumbled on a section of rods, reading the little info card on the shelf. That little switch within you flipped.

You had always known you were a "switch". However because the desire to be in charge were so far and few between the conversation hadn't come up with the boys yet. They were in for a surprise today.

When you made your way onto the common room with your purchase, you immediately set out to find any of your boys you could get your hands on. Sirius was the first one you found.

He opened his mouth to greet you but was immediately cut off as you grabbed his hand and all but pulled him into the boys dorm room.

Sirius had a wide, if not a little confused, smile on his face at your manhandling. "Babes, what's the ru-"

"Where are the others?", you sounded a lot more desperate than you liked. But you were reaching your limit. You absolutely had to fulfill this need, or you were sure you'd explode.

"They got roped into tutoring a few first years for Minnie. Wh-"

You had heard what you needed. You hastily pushed him back onto his bed, only taking a second to cast the silencing spell on the door. If you got what you wanted, it would be needed.

You hastily stripped out of your clothes, eyeing Sirius as the prey he currently was.

Sirius had never seen this desperate, but he was here for it. "What's gotten into you love?"

"I need you" you whined out.

"Oh my poor little love, I'll make it all better. Come here". The smirk on his face could not have been any more smug.

You crawled up his body, ripping off his clothes as you went. You stopped him reaching for your hips, knowing he wanted to flip the two of you over.

"Can I top you?"

His breath caught. That was a first. You'd never showed any interest before, but he was never one to deny you. Particularly when you were on top of him with that desperate gleam in your eye.

"Oh, is that what my baby wants today? Of course" he dramatically throws his arms out beside, him with a salacious grin. "Please have your way with me".

You grabbed you wand, summoning the bag you had dropped at the door in your haste to get him inside.

Sirius was delighted, watching you pull the toys you'd brought out of the bag. "Did you buy me presents?! You really shouldn't have!".

He was trying to act coy, but you'd have him reduced to begging and whining soon enough. "Do you trust me?".

He cocked his eyebrow, propping himself on his elbows "You know I do love", glancing down at your toy selection, then back up at you. "Should I have a safe word?"

" Yes." You breathed out. "Probably. We can use the same one we always do with me... same rules apply. Anytime I do something you don't like, immediately let me know".

He was blushing at this point, which he found a little baffling. He was sure all the blood in his body was pulsing in his cock. "Alright, love"

You picked up the sounding rod. It was a little silicone rod, with ridges going all the way down. There was a loop at the top that would wrap around right under the head of his cock. The rod was very flexible so you weren't worried about hurting either him or yourself with your plan. "Do you know what this is baby?"

He went to open his mouth to answer, but only a whine came out of his mouth. He nodded desperately instead.

"Are you ok with me using it on you?"

He nodded again. He absolutely wanted to get this show on the road now. "Please... "

You beamed. "You're going to be such a good boy for me huh?". Moving your attention down to the items next to you, picking up a silk maroon ribbon. You loosely wrapped it around his cock, taking the moment to slowly jerk him off with it. You loved the low breathy moan he let out, watching as he collapsed back flat on the bed and letting his eyes close.

Slipping your free hand down to your wand, you let the ribbon slip through your fingers. With a flick of your wrist the ribbon tied itself around the base of his cock.

His eyes flashed open "wha-", cutting himself off with another desperate moan as he looked down.

"All wrapped in a pretty bow like the gift that your cock really is. You shouldn't be able to cum before I take the rod out, but this will add an extra protection". Running a finger lightly up the length of his dick, enjoying the way it twitched under you ministrations.

"Magic really is a wonderful thing" you couldn't help sigh happily at the sight. "No fumbling around for lube". You picked the rod back up, tapping it with the end of the wand, watching as it coated itself in lube.

You had wanted to drag this out, but seeing him all wrapped up pretty for you, you couldn't seem to make yourself. Next time. Wrapping your hand tightly around his cock, you gave it one teasing stroke before lining the rod up with his slit.

You both moaned as the tip slid in an inch with little resistance. This went on for a while. Slowly in and out inch by inch. Sirius was all but drooling by the time you had it settled all way on, and secured. Honestly you weren't doing much better. He looked so hot stuffed and wrapped for your pleasure.

You ran your hands soothingly up and down his thighs, giving him a moment to get used to the sensation. "Fuuuck. You doing ok baby? You're so stunning, your big cock all filled to the brim for me".

The whine he gave was straight up pornagraphic. "Please please please please". Though he really wasn't sure what he was begging for, just more.

You giggled. "Oh my pretty baby. We're just getting started". Crawling up farther on his body, you stopped to grind down on his stuffed cock.

"Fuck you feel so good baby". You were damn near gushing now. "Feel how wet I am? This what you do to me. Such a pretty baby".

The whines went up an octave, as you felt his cock begin to twitch against you. His hands snapped down to your hips, not trying to guide or stop you. Just to give himself something to anchor to, babbling out about needing to cum.

"Oh pretty baby, did your cock try and cum already?" You got a desperate nod, though you barely took note of it. Instead choosing to watch his cock push through your folds with each grind. "Good thing your cock is so stuffed and tied up huh? Otherwise the fun would be over already". If he gave any kind of reply, this time you really didn't notice, too enamored with the look and feel of his silky stuffed cock against you.

It didn't take long before the need to be filled took over. You leaned down to kiss him. Taking a second to soak this moment in. Before abruptly sitting up and turning around. He always did like the view of your ass. "Hold on tight babe, and enjoy the ride. We aren't stopping until I've come at least twice".

He could only whimpered in reply. His head was getting very fuzzy . This entire thing is so brilliantly overwhelming, he never would have thought you'd have this side to you. But damn if it wasn't one of the hottest things that's ever happened to him.

You lined yourself up with his cock, and slammed all the way down his length. You looked back at his face, marveling at how beautiful he was as he opened his mouth to scream. No noise came out though, causing you to let your own lengthy moan out. He'd had you to that point of pleasure so many times. You're sure his cock was giving a valiant effort to come again. What a pleasant torture you thought, to be stuck on that constant edge of pleasure without being able to release it.

You turned back around, focusing on your own pleasure for now. You really needed to cum, you'd play with him more after. You leaned forward, bracing yourself against his legs as you began a fast pace riding his cock. You hadn't done this position often, but damn was it doing it for you at the moment. It didn't take you long to reach your peak, between his cock hitting at just the right place, and the desperate sounds spilling from his mouth. You dug your fingers deep into his thighs as you came.

The rhythmic tightening of your core, added to a level of pleasure he had never reached before. He could feel his balls tighten again. That's 4 times he would have come by now, every time adding to this blindingly sharp pleasure.

You slammed down on his cock once more, riding out your high. You took a minute to catch your breath after, gods this was amazing, definitely a lot of work though. You glanced back at him again. Despite the near death grip he had on your thighs, his face looked blissed out to the point you weren't sure there were any thoughts in his head. You couldn't help but giggle. You still weren't satiated. You stayed there till you felt him relax his hands and body some, before reaching down to trace a line up his balls. He jolted a bit but otherwise didnt tense up again. You asked his color just incase, and got a green in response.

His muscles didn't get to relax very long though, as you took his balls in your hand and massaged them. Poor things felt so hot and tight. This caused him to give an aborted thrust up into you.

"You're doing so good pretty baby. Your balls hurt huh? They feel like they need some attention." You only got incoherent babbling in response, that sounded like an agreement to you. You started moving your hips slowly again, but most of your attention stayed on his balls. Alternating between massaging and gently pulling on them. You normally didn't get to spend much time on them, sirius was usually very focused on your pleasure. He'd eat you till you were well blissed out before pounding you into oblivion. He'd go so desperate to be inside you that it left little time for things like worshiping his balls.

It was a shame you thought. They worked so hard for you, making all that cum to fill you up. They deserved more attention, you were sure they felt heavier than usual now, working overtime with no where for it to go.

You patted them a few times, not being able to help yourself. Adding just a touch of pain to his pleasure. You felt another heavy twitch within you. Huh. That might be something you'd explore at another time. You were sure that was 5 or 6 times you would have cum by now. Or maybe he was having "dry" orgasms, you weren't sure. You looked back, and he currently didn't have the brain cells to tell you now if the look on his face was any indication. You filed that way with the other things you'd explore later.

You grabbed your wand, casting another lubrication spell, on his tight little asshole this time. You kept one hand on his balls, still rolling and massaging. Using the other one to slip a finger into ass. Gods it felt so hot and tight in there. You momentarily wished you had a cock, if the look on the other boys faces were any indication, you knew it had to feel amazing when they go to thrust into him. You wondered if there was a spell for that...

You added another finger, and began searching for the little button you knew was in there. You knew you found it when he bucked so hard up that you almost got jolted off. The movent caused an orgasm to slam through you. The sudden peak surprised you, your vision whiting out for a moment. A high whining noise brought you back to yourself. Your hand on his balls had inadvertently tightened while you were riding out your pleasure.

You immediately let go and turned your body around so you could check on him.

"Oops I'm sorry baby. You ok? Do you want to stop?"

He frantically shook his head. With a steady "cum cum need cum" falling out of his mouth.

You smiled and decided to take pitty on him. He had been so good for you after all. Never trying to take charge, just holding onto your hips like a lifeline. And you did have two very satisfying orgasms.

You gently pulled yourself off of him, settling yourself between his thighs. You ran your hands up and down his thighs as you took one last moment to enjoy the view. you softly kiss the head of his cock as you released the charm on the ribbon, watching it slide gently away from its place.

You unhooked the loop of the rod from its home around his cock. You didn't just slide it out though, instead torturing him a few minutes longer. You thrust the rod slowly in and out of his cock. The sight was mesmerizing honestly. You could have kept this up much longer, but your poor love was about to vibrate out of his skin.

It only took two pumps of his cock after you slid the rod out for him to finally cum. His orgasm was so strong his seed hit all the way up to his cheek at its highest point. Jet after jet of cum coated his chest and stomach. You stroked him through it, his orgasm lasting quiet a while. You were thankful you had the forethought to put up the silencing charm. You're sure the whole castle could have heard the noises he let out as his pleasure crashed through him.

You get up to get a wet cloth to wipe all the cum off him. You could have used a charm to spell away the mess, but found this much more intimate. It's what you prefered when the roles were reversed.

He came back to himself, all cleaned up. You had wiggled underneath him, so that his head was on your chest, and our hands running gently through his hair. You two basked in the afterglow for quiet a while before he decided to head down to the common room and maybe get something to drink.

You guys split up at the bottom of the stairs so you could head to your dorm to change.

Sirius had just collapsed on one of the couches when Remus and James came through the portrait hole. Sirius still felt pretty floaty and out of it, with a permanent grin on his face. When they finally got him to share what happened the boys were beyond shocked. They didn't think Sirius was lying. But they also couldn't imagine their sweet babylove doing those things. You were normally so sweet and malleable. Preferring the boys to take charge.

You came down not long after in your shorts and one of their jumpers. Looking very cute and soft if they said so themselves. You stopped short when you noticed them. Sirius with his head resting against the back of the couch, eyes closed and blissed smile still there. They boys both staring at you owlishly, blinking slowly.

"... what?" You looked down at yourself to make sure nothing was out of the ordinary. They just shook their head and welcomed you into their arms. Still too shocked, trying to wrap their mind around what sirius said, with the sweet baby cuddled up in their arms.

#poly!marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #marauders era #marauders x reader

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ayyy-pee · 1 year

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We're hosting NSFW Gojo Week 2023!!!

Hosted by: @lemonlover1110 @violetsaffron5 @septembersums @ayyy-pee @xo2dee

Hellooooooo! With season 2 of Jujutsu Kaisen quickly approaching, we're excited to announce we are hosting a NSFW Gojo Week and would love for you to join us this September in participating!!! This includes:

Fanfics

Drabbles

Fanart

Cosplay

And more!

Check out the links below for more info!

Carrd - For guidelines/rules, AO3 Collection, etc.

Twitter - Give us a follow!

CuriousCat - For any questions you may have!

Prompts list:

Please make sure to read the rules on our Carrd before joining as this is an 18+ event!!!!

** EDIT: WE ARE STILL ACCEPTING ENTRIES TO GOJO WEEK!!! Please either tag a mod, use the hashtag on here or submit to the collection!** We will add your name to this post. When you post your work, @ one of us so we can link your work here as well!

Check out the Collection of fics on AO3 as well! Some fics will only be available there! Link here -> Gojo NSFW Week 2023 Collection!!!

Participants: To see the Day's prompt/summaries, check out the writer's masterlist/link!

konigbabe: KALEIDOSCOPE OF SIN (Gojo week masterlist) ❥ Day 1 - never define you ❥ Day 2 - when we play ❥ Day 3 - the great war ❥ Day 4 - the fruits of my labor ❥ Day 5 - frosting of my cake ❥ Day 6 - pearls before swine ❥ Day 7 - eleusinian mysteries

libroparaiso: ❥ Day 1 - break the cycle (69) ❥ Day 2 - palm of your hand (bondage) ❥ Day 4 - behind the curtain (masturbation)

blckbookbbe: ❥ Day 1 - Double Date ❥ Day 2 - Throat Goat ❥ Day 3 - Bad Communication Skills ❥ Day 4 - Actions Have Consequences

ayyypee: Gojo NSFW Week Masterlist ❥ Day 1 - Crave You ❥ Day 2 - Ten Minutes ❥ Day 3 - A Taste of You ❥ Day 4 - Back to You ❥ Day 5 - A Taste of Me

violetsaffron: Gojo NSFW Week Masterlist ❥ Day 1 - Exhibitionism ❥ Day 2 - Bondage ❥ Day 3 - Lingerie ❥ Day 4 - Power Dynamic ❥ Day 5 - Breeding ❥ Day 6 - Gunplay ❥ Day 7 - Free Day

lemonlover1110: Gojo NSFW Week Masterlist ❥ Day 1 - What You Need ❥ Day 2 - Heard You've Moved On ❥ Day 3 - The Babysitter's Crush ❥ Day 4 - Office Duties ❥ Day 5 - Date Night ❥ Day 6 - Early Dessert ❥ Day 7 - Cum Slut

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xoxochb · 18 days

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welcome to luke’s diner!! ⋆⁺₊⋆

first things first are the thank yous. I’ve said before and I’m sure you know by the many posts I’ve made regarding my 800 follower accomplishment but to elaborate I am very happy!! It amazes me that eight hundred people like my work and actually tolerate me, it’s absolutely mind blowing. I’m very grateful for each and every one of my many followers and mutuals who have helped me accomplish this achievement. I’m eternally grateful for all of you, sending hugs kisses your way <3

anyways the rules (boring, I know. but necessary). my regular m. list rules apply to my events like usual so please check those out before requesting anything, thank you! also after 9/16 I will not accept anymore requests for the event since it will have been closed! and when your request you don’t have to add the note in the parentheses I just added those for fun)

event m. list linked here!

enough of me yapping are you hungry? I see a diner up ahead it reads: luke’s. I heard a crazy caffeine addicted lady practically lives there! let’s go inside and check the menu…

pancakes (with a side of strawberries) 🥞

୨୧ the emoji fic like usual… please make sure your chosen emoji has a story in mind otherwise I won’t have a story in mind, therefore making it difficult for me to write. this may not make much sense but basically what I’m saying is don’t chose an irrelevant emoji

a cup of coffee (three refill restrictions!) ☕️

୨୧ moodboards!! I’ll make one for anything or anyone just give me enough info to know what photos I’m looking for please!

french toast (covered in powdered sugar) 🍞

୨୧ I’m giving you this one chance to invade my privacy (with boundaries, I trust you all to know what’s appropriate and what’s not). ask me anything about myself if if you’d like tell me about yourself

buttermilk waffles (drowning in syrup) 🧇

୨୧ and lastly song fics… please make sure you chose a song I haven’t written for AND an artist I actually listen to because in the past I have deleted reqs for songs I haven’t listened to. these are some of my favorite artists!

#prue speaks ੈ✩‧₊˚#xoxochb #prue’s autumn event 🍂#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #percy series #pjo hoo toa #pjo spoilers #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan x reader #connor stoll x reader #leo valdez x reader #jason grace x reader

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felassan · 3 months

Note

Random question. I read that 'Pelledia' was originally considered as a name for Thedas before it was finalised. Is there any mention of why they considered it, like is it supposed to mean anything? I'm writing some fanfiction and considering using it as a call back but I am assuming they just thought it sounded nice? Any help is appreciated :) Also apologies if you aren't accepting Asks atm, I'm new to tumblr so admittedly I don't know the etiquette!

hello! ◕‿◕ welcome to tumblr and no worries at all, we have a toggle where we can set 'let people ask questions' to on/off and mine as u can see is currently on ^^ [here] is a post which contains a summary of some interesting factoids and insights pertaining to the development of Dragon Age from the book Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development, it briefly mentions the Pelledia factoid. the full mention of this factoid from the book itself (in case the context/quote helps) reads:

"The name for the Dragon Age setting came about another way. “Thedas” was shorthand for “the Dragon Age setting” on the forums and internally, and the design team fully intended to name the continent something else in the final release. James [Ohlen] initially floated the name “Pelledia”. But the team figured there was no rush. “Thedas” would work well enough temporarily. Enter David Gaider’s first rule of naming: if a temp name has been around long enough and is not actively terrible or offensive, after six months, people won’t be able to think of it by any other name. That’s what happened with Thedas. The team had a big meeting to try and come up with a better name for the continent. But in the end, nothing sounded right except Thedas."

And yes!! there is a bit more info on this!! David Gaider did some dev commentary over a playthrough of Dragon Age on a Twitch stream a few years ago and in that commentary was a lot of different bits of insights and information. I think the original videos aren't available to watch anymore unfortunately, but at that time I took notes on them all and what was said (the following quote isn't a direct quote/word-to-word transcript, but it is notes on what was said):

"One of the original names for the setting, Peldia, was pronounced Pel-DEE-ah. This name came from a homebrewed world James Ohlen had made. He was keen to call it this, but David Gaider wasn’t keen on it and so in every document after that first one, he just referred to the setting as “TDAS” (The Dragon Age Setting) instead. When they spoke about the lore on the BioWare forums after the game was announced, they would often refer to it as “The Dragon Age Setting”. Someone on there abbreviated this to “Thedas” and the devs started using it. About three quarters of the way in they were like “Can we please just give this realm a name”, and at this point James was gone. They had a list of other names but nobody really liked any of them, and they’d been calling it Thedas for so long. Eventually, Sheryl Chee suggested “Can we just call it Thedas?” and it stuck."

as you can see in this I mis-spelled "Pelledia", and that "Pelledia" was the name of a homebrewed world that James had created himself at some point. :) that quote is from [this post here], and [here] is the link to the first post in that series, which itself contains the links to all of them.

(you might also be interested in this article and the maps and early worldbuilding of Thedas info that it contains. for example, who were/or were going to be the "Shaelan" race and the "Olvenene" race?? what was the apparent forest city of "FaeFran" etc?? :D there's also "far-away Noathen", some place where the first iteration of the DA themepark ride's story blurb mentions. hh, just in case that's of interest or you need more names to make callbacks with or something)

I hope this helps and best of luck with ur fanfic. ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

#dragon age #bioware #mjs mailbag #video games #neonacally #long post #longpost #this is the Deepest Lore™.. i cud only find the answer to this in one of my own posts.. which is probably my fault tho for spelling #it wrong LOL

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venacoeurva · 1 month

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Commission of a more 🔞adult persuasion 🔞 are available again! Some very important rules before you IM me (ignore mentions of the slots being experimental, the rules were from my recent run of these testing the waters but still apply other than that) and the process:

Under the cut to save your dashes

Process:

Read the rules (below) and figure out what you would like if it's something I'll do (if shading, poses, overall scene, etc.). Also please acknowledge the price is something you can/are willing to pay.

IM me including an email you can use to discuss such content, if you're someone I recognize and am comfortable taking such a comm from you (unlikely chance I WON'T, but y'know) I'll email you. DO NOT INCLUDE THE ACTUAL COMMISSION DESCRIPTION/ANY IMAGES OF THAT NATURE HERE. Don't accidentally get yourself flagged.

I will give you a randomized codeword in the IM so I know who is who, especially if email and username don't match. Also, so I can verify it's not some rando who saw us interact/saw that you commed me before and is trying to sneak around. (in my and others' experiences, people do weird, cringeworthy desperate things to get these types of commissions, man...)

When I email you, respond with the following info: -The codeword and who you are on Tumblr -Paypal email to invoice - What you would like drawn as well as parameters (if cropped specifically, what type? If you want shading, if a comic then how many panels or pages, etc.) -Any visual references such as for OCs/Player characters or AU versions of characters. I will not draw characters that only have a written description unless I have done a commission with that for you before and I know you do written descriptions very well and are responsive wrt changes.

We continue from there. If I accept your commission, I will then invoice you and once paid and started, send you a sketch to be approved, and finish it once that sketch is approved. Until you approve a sketch or give feedback asking for any changes necessary and then approve the modified sketch/want any more changes, it will be counted as inactive and will not be worked on further. A lack of response from the client when it's required to move forward for 3 months will result in your slot being forfeit, and if I have gotten past the sketch phase, you forfeit a refund as well; this doesn’t come into effect if I haven’t started your comm yet due to backlogs.

Some examples of the type of lineart texture and how I do the black lineart shading in my style, including an actual comm I COULD censor enough. I can also add the weathered and halftone effects, just ask for it!

#I'll be starting with 2 slots with one image per person and one slot per person!#suggestive #Sorry about the long post @ anyone who is not interested in these lmao #commissions #non osha compliant

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rexwrendraws · 2 months

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💥 MY COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN! 💥

LET ME MAKE ART FOR YOU!! (And help me save up to buy myself a new pen display tablet since my old one's screen broke (rip)!)

I'm offering character-based illustrations, in the following variations either bust, half-body, or full body, of either lineart, flat colors, or full render with various background/environmental/graphic element options!

Prices vary depending on the complexity of the request— minimum is USD $30 for lineart single character bust! Find the full base price list HERE (all prices in USD)!

My commission slots are rolling, but I'll only work on max 3 at the same time, so be sure to check the most recent commission status post on my blog to make sure there are slots open before reaching out!

💥 ALL INFORMATION CAN BE FOUND HERE— Please read through the entire page (all general rules, agreement, payment info, etc) before reaching out to me! If you have any questions, feel free to DM me!

ALL SLOTS HAVE BEEN FILLED (2/2)! THANK YOU!

If you don't want to commission me but want to support me, please consider dropping me a tip on my Ko-fi! And consider reblogging this post! Thank you!

#commissions open #commission #signal boost #artists on tumblr #rex commissions #rex commission status #idk how to tag this!! but let me draw for you!!!!!#be prepared for me to reblog this a thousand times hehehe #LET ME DRAW SANDMAN AND TRON STUFF FOR YOU PLEASEEEEE

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ariseur · 2 months

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ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ DOTTIE’S FIVE HUNDRED FOLLOWER EVENT 𓂃 ! [ AUGUST 2 - AUGUST 27 ]

#dottie’s 500 ᝰ.ᐟ꩜

it’s been about four months since i first created this blog to which i have grown a small but really loving following, i see you guys in my reblogs and in my replies spewing kind words. all those comments and tags are so fun to read lol i love you guys

but — now that we’re here, it’s time for the main event we’ve come for and this is my 500 follower event (≧◡≦) ♡!!— info linked below and more under the cut !!

[ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ top contenders - ]

ffvii ; cloud | zack | sephiroth

ffxv ; noctis | prompto | ignis | gladiolus

mystic messenger ; zen | yoosung | jumin | 707

🍡 ( dango ) — prompt list !! ~ send in a character and a prompt of your choice.

dialogue.

✧˖° - “can i kiss you?”

✧˖° - “wanna practice?”

✧˖° - “are you wearing flavored chapstick?”

✧˖° - “was that okay?”

✧˖° - “one more kiss? please?”

✧˖° - “can we do that again?”

✧˖° - “teach me.”

✧˖° - “i think i deserve a kiss for that.”

✧˖° - “count to five, then you can speak.” (shutting you up with kisses).

✧˖° - “this is my partner, aren’t they beautiful?”

✧˖° - “stay with me ‘til i fall asleep.”

✧˖° - “your hands are shaking.” — “oh.”

✧˖° - “i do miss you, you know.”

✧˖° - “where do you see yourself in a few years?” — “with you.”

actions.

✧˖° - hand kisses

✧˖° - neck kisses

✧˖° - cheek kisses

✧˖° - small quick pecks that you run away after doing

✧˖° - thigh kisses

✧˖° - wrapping your arms around their neck

✧˖° - feeling their smile in a kiss

✧˖° - messy half asleep kisses

✧˖° - reward kisses

✧˖° - lazy make out sesh

✧˖° - grocery shopping with them

✧˖° - them / you trying to make food and it comes out horrendous

✧˖° - kissing to shut them up during sex

✧˖° - goodbye kiss

✧˖° - putting together ikea furniture

✧˖° - seeing them play with a small animal they swore they hated

✧˖° - fake dating ends up for them falling for you

✧˖° - their attitude immediately uplifts when you’re around

✧˖° - taking a ( bad ) photo when the other’s asleep

✧˖° - childhood friends ( love this sm )

🍰 ( strawberry shortcake ) — time check !! ~ this might be a little more niche but basically what i’m talking about is you can request a character and put “🍰 - time check!! [character]?” and based on what time it is right now, i’ll tell you what i imagine them to be doing. so for example, “🍰 - time check on toji fushiguro” and if it’s 3pm for me then i’ll write a little blurb on it, like lazing on the couch while little megumi wriggles his way in between you two.

if you’re wanting a specific time set like, “time check on hidden inventory arc gojo,” — “time check on pre-nibelheim sephiroth,” — “time check on 707 pre-ending.” you know?? i can write that too :)

i might be on a different time zone though so it might be a little weird if it’s 3am for you but 8pm for me lol, keep that in mind !! ^.^

🩰 ( ballet ) — tropes !!

send in a trope you like with a character and i’ll write a blurb on it!! like, for example, “🩰 - one bed trope with noctis!!” or “🩰 - opposites attract with yuuta :)”. i will not do any au’s ( as also stated in my rules, please look at those before you request too lol ) and i will also not do any like.. billionaire or weird dark romance tropes like that. i will do slight nsfw drabbles and stuff but nothing weird or too hardcore!!

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fairytale-poll · 4 months

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Welcome to the Best/Worst Modern Fairytale Adaptation Tournament!

We've done best Red Riding Hood, we've done best Cinderella, and we've done best Little Mermaid! As voted by you guys, we'll be switching gears a bit and doing Best/Worst Modern Fairytale Adaptations! This will be two simultaneous tournaments to see what is the best modern fairytale adaptation and what is the worst!

If you are confused on what qualifies as "Modern Fairytale Adaptation", please read the following:

By "modern fairytale adaptation" I mean an adaptation of a fairytale that takes place in the modern day.

I will be a little loose with what I mean by "modern day". "Modern" will be defined as taking place around the same time as when it was published. (Ex. "Splash!" is an adaptation of the Little Mermaid that was created in the 1980s, so it taking place in the 1980s works for "modern day".) The earliest I will accept something taking place is the 1950s, anything earlier than that I will not count as modern.

If the modern fairytale adaptation has some magic / a little bit of fantasy in it, it can still counts just as long as the world it takes place in can be reasonable compared to being our modern day world. (Ex. "Ponyo" has a lot of magical elements with the titular Ponyo being a magical being from the sea and her mother being the Queen of the Ocean and her father a magician, but the world she sees on the surface is very clearly our world, so it counts.)

No futuristic settings. (Ex. Something like "The Lunar Chronicles" series by Marissa Meyer, for example, which takes place in a Sci-Fi dystopia will not count.)

Some other rules to read before submitting:

Submit a modern fairytale adaptation to the best or worst brackets. There will be two separate forms for each, so make sure you fill out the right one!

Submit as many pieces of media as you want, but don't submit the same thing more than once to an individual form. You can submit the same piece of media to both forms, if your heart truly desires. (Ex. You can't submit "A Cinderella Story" more than once to the best bracket, but if you think it's simultaneously the best and worst you can submit it once to both brackets.)

This tournament will be for pieces of media, not individual characters. Thus far we have only done character polls to this blog, but don't let that confuse you. (Ex. Submitting "Sam Montgomery" would not be accepted, but if you submit "A Cinderella Story", that will be accepted.)

Make sure you submit a substantial piece of media, such as a movie, TV show, book, short story, comic book, etc. Things like a comic strip, a meme, or a fanfic will not be accepted. Additionally, smaller pieces of media such as someone's OC story will not be accepted. (There might not be enough public info for someone to vote on & it might not be fair to put someone's OC story against a big name like Ghibli or Disney.)

Do not submit anthologies. If there is a series you want to submit that is a collection of different fairytale retellings, like a TV show where every episode is a different story, that is not allowed. Feel free to submit an individual episode where there is only one complete story, though.

Submit something based on a specific fairytale(s), not something that just happens to have a fairytale vibe.

This will be either a 32 or 64 bracket for both. I would ideally like the best and worst brackets to both be the same size (i.e. either both 32 or both 64), but if one is smaller than the other, so be it. I'm going to cap each bracket at 64, as doing any more would be a lot to manage since there already are two brackets.

Submissions will be open either until they reach the cap or for a full week (closing on Friday, June 14th.) Whichever comes first.

And that's it for rules! Remember as always to be kind and respectful to others. This is bracket is supposed to be fun so please have fun with it! ✨❤️

Best Bracket Submissions:

Worst Bracket Submissions:

Tagging other tournaments under the cut for visibility.

@tournament-announcer @princess-polls @the-ballerina-battle @booktomoviebrawl @do-you-ship-it-polls @mattapparentlystumbltourneys

#fairy tale #fairytale #poll tournament #poll bracket #poll submissions #submissions #polls #long post

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inaconstantstateofchange · 9 months

Note

I come to you on my hands and knees (relevant to the topic right lol) begging for any and all info on Bane, Banites and how it all ties in with Gortash. I love you in advance. <3

Bane and His Cult

Alright, so after twelve and a half hours of research I still don’t fully feel like I have enough, but at a certain point I just need to get this out there, and if there is anything you – or anyone else – would like to see explored in more detail, please feel free to ask!

Note: I love getting asks like this! There is such a vast quantity of Realmslore that having some sort of specific focus for my deep-dives is a huge help, and knowing the topic is of interest to others is a huge motivator. I also greatly enjoy getting to put my training as a historian to work, as there is so much to interpret and archive alike.

As ever, these writeups will align with current 5e lore, and draw from 3.5e for additional supporting information. On rarer occasions – and always noted – I will reference 1e and 2e, but with the caveats that there is much more in those editions that is tonally dissonant with the modern conception of the Forgotten Realms, and thus generally less applicable.

We’ll begin with one of the most recent conclusive descriptions of Bane, from the 5e Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide, an overview of the current world-state of, well, the Sword Coast:

Bane has a simple ethos: the strong have not just the right but the duty to to rule over the weak. A tyrant who is able to seize power must do so, for not only does the tyrant benefit, but so do those under the tyrant’s rule. When a ruler succumbs to decadence, corruption, or decrepitude, a stronger and more suitable ruler will rise. Bane is vilified in many legends. Throughout history, those who favor him have committed dark deeds in his name, but most people don’t worship Bane out of malice. Bane represents ambition and control, and those who have the former but lack the latter pray to him to give them strength. It is said that Bane favors those who exhibit drive and courage, and that he aids those who seek to become conquerors, carving kingdoms from the wilderness, and bringing order to the lawless.¹

This gives us the briefest summation of what draws people to the Cult of Bane: the desire for power and control, often deriving from a sense that they lack exactly those two things. Bane is the quintessential deity of lawful evil, which – if you’ve read any of my previous posts on the sociology of the Nine Hells – bears a striking similarity to Baator itself, the realm of lawful evil, and the place where Enver Gortash spent at least a portion of his formative years.

The majority of the following excerpts derive from 3e, which went into far more detail on the specificities of the Faerûnian gods, including their dogmas, holy days, et cetera. One important point to note, however: any discussions of Bane’s scope of power are no longer accurate, as the time period in reference is about one hundred and twenty years before Baldur’s Gate 3 is set, at a time when Bane had just returned to life – and godhood – as nothing less than a greater god. By comparison, during Baldur’s Gate 3, he is a quasi-deity, having abandoned most of his previous godly power in exchange for the ability to directly meddle with Faerûn – forbidden to the gods by the overgod Ao – and gambling that he would be able to regain his lost power and prestige in so doing.²

The dogma of Bane – that is, the core tenets and philosophies that his followers seek to emulate – is as follows:

Serve no one but Bane. Fear him always and make others fear him even more than you do. The Black Hand always strikes down those that stand against it in the end. Defy Bane and die — or in death find loyalty to him, for he shall compel it. Submit to the word of Bane as uttered by his ranking clergy, since true power can only be gained through service to him. Spread the dark fear of Bane. It is the doom of those who do not follow him to let power slip through their hands. Those who cross the Black Hand meet their dooms earlier and more harshly than those who worship other deities.³

Even were there nothing else to go off of, this would tell us a great deal about the group dynamics of any followers of Bane, whether established church or fragmented cult. Just as in the Hells, hierarchy is everything to proponents of lawful evil. Any cult of Bane would have a strict order to its power structure, and there would be limited – practically nonexistent – tolerance for any questioning or insubordination of that order. To the minds of Banites, such is simply the natural and superior ordering of the world. These interactions are detailed below:

Within the church, the church hierarchy resolves internal disputes through cold and decisive thoughts, not rash and uncontrolled behavior. Bane’s clerics and worshipers try to assume positions of power in every realm so that they can turn the world over to Bane. They work subtly and patiently to divide the forces of their enemies and elevate themselves and the church’s allies over all others, although they do not fear swift and decisive violent action to help achieve their aims.³

The manner of tyranny that Bane holds to is similarly calculated – he is not interested in mere shows of force, but rather in insidious plots that twist and make use of existing rule of law to legitimize tyranny wherever possible. A social tide operated ostensibly within the laws of the land is far more troublesome to fight back against than a simple army.⁴

As far as specific ritual and day-to-day workings of the cult, some can be evidenced here, in broad strokes:

Bane’s clerics pray for spells at midnight. They have no calendar-based holidays, and rituals are held whenever a senior cleric declares it time. Rites of Bane consist of drumming, chanting, doomful singing, and the sacrifice of intelligent beings, who are humiliated, tortured, and made to show fear before their death by flogging, slashing, or crushing.³

In this sense, rituals seem most likely to be used as a display of power and a test of subservience, leaving lower-ranked members of the cult at the whims of their superiors, expected – as noted previously – to attend to their commands with the same alacrity they would use were Bane himself to speak. The rites themselves are designed to reinforce and glorify the primary aspects of their god’s domain: the tyranny of forcing submission and pain from the weak.

Faiths & Pantheons, published a year after the Campaign Setting supplement, provides a similar description of the rituals of the cult of Bane, along with some intriguing and flavorful additions (noted in bold for ease of comparison):

Their religion recognizes no official holidays, though servants give thanks to the Black Hand before and after major battles or before a particularly important act of subterfuge. Senior clerics often declare holy days at a moment's notice, usually claiming to act upon divine inspiration granted to them in dreams. Rites include drumming, chanting, and the sacrifice of intelligent beings, usually upon an altar of black basalt or obsidian.”⁴

As, in the “present day” of Baldur’s Gate 3, Bane has lost much of his foothold on power and his Faith’s old domains, the specifics of architecture of Banite keeps are no longer quite so relevant. However, in times past, when his Faith worked far more openly and held much greater power, the philosophy of Bane was expressed through the architecture of his churches and strongholds:

Tall, sharp-cornered stone structures featuring towers adorned with large spikes and thin windows, most Banite churches suggest the architecture of fortified keeps or small castles. Thin interior passageways lead from an austere foyer to barrackslike common chambers for the lay clergy, each sparsely decorated with tapestries depicting the symbols of Bane or inscribed with embroidered passages from important religious texts.⁴

The social capital of a Faith – a broad term used to encapsulate all followers of a single deity – is often heavily intertwined with the power of its god, a mutualistic relationship that runs in both directions. More social weight behind the Faith means its god’s name and will is conveyed to more people, some or many of whom might apportion some worship or act in alignment with that god and empower them by so doing. More power for the god means more divine actions that can bolster their own image and the reach of their clergy. At its height in the late 1300s, the Faith of Bane was one of the most prominent and powerful, with comparable might to that of a small kingdom.⁵

Something that is important to bear in mind in a setting such as the Forgotten Realms, not only polytheistic, but an environment where the gods being worshiped are demonstrably existent, is that the followers of evil gods are not likely to be obtrusive with the less savory aspects of their dogma. Not only would that, in the majority of cases, do more harm than good to their deity’s long term goals, in the words of Elminster:

A dead foe is just that: dead, and soon to be replaced by another. An influenced foe, on the other hand, is well on the way to becoming an ally, increasing the sway of the deity.⁶

All of this aligns with what we see of the Cult of Bane and its operation in Baldur’s Gate 3. While it does not have the same sway and might behind it as it did a hundred years before, through manipulation of law and carefully applied pressure – of whatever form most likely to yield the desired results, be it threats, bribery, blackmail, or use of hostages – Gortash has enacted a steel web of delicate, ensnaring tyranny across the entire city.

We can even find present-day expressions of the interactions of the cult members, and find that they hold true to what their forebears experienced, further proof of the consistency of lawful evil. A personal note found on the body of a dead Banite guard at the Steel Watch Foundry calls the Black Gauntlet in charge of the Foundry Lab, Hahns Rives, a “disgrace to the Tyrant Lord”, and notes the writer’s intent to “compile a list of Rives’ shortcomings for the Overseers.”⁷ These shortcomings include:

1. Rives failed to reprimand Polandulus for making jokes about Lord Gortash! 2. Rives missed the morning mass to Bane - twice! 3. Rives didn't punish Gondian Ofran when she missed her gyronetics quota merely because she'd lost a finger that day in the punch press.⁷

We can see evidenced here the constant scheming for position and recognition consistent with this manner of lawful evil hierarchy. Both devils and Banites orient their day-to-day lives around how to prove themselves to their superiors, while also undercutting them at any chance they have to prove their own superiority, with hopes of being raised above them.

This is only reinforced further by another text found within the Steel Watch Foundry, Bane’s Book of Admonitions. Its text is not written out for us, but described as such:

A book of adages and precepts for Banites, providing the basic tenets of worship of the Lord of Tyranny, with suggested prayers for common situations. The heart of the book is Bane's Twelve Admonitions, a dozen rules for proper Banite conduct, with punishments specified for failure to comply. The book opens easily to a page with two of Bane's most popular admonitions, number six, the Reprimand for Leniency, and number seven, the Rebuke for False Compassion.⁸

The most likely scenario is that this book was used by the “Overseers” referenced by the anonymous Banite writing of Rives above. The exact position of the Overseers is not made clear, but from context and knowledge of Banite hierarchy, we can infer that they inhabit a place in the hierarchy above both the guard and Rives himself, and that their role is to ensure all those below them uphold the tenets of Bane at all times, never losing sight of his will.

In that context, it makes sense that they would both have a book of specific punishments for specific infractions – rule of law, after all – and that, given the attempted report on Rives, punishments (“admonitions”) for the crimes of leniency and false compassion – and all compassion is false when your conception of the world does not allow for its existence – would be those most referenced. It would be incredibly important to the unity of the cult, as well as to Gortash’s plans, to harshly punish any observed leniency or break from Bane’s law among members of the cult.

Not only would failure to control the situation at the Foundry potentially spell failure for the schemes of Bane’s Chosen, any unpunished step out of line by members of the cult would be seen as tempting others to do the same, a trickle of dissent quickly becoming a flood. Better to ensure that all adherents live in merited fear of the consequence of failure.

After all, it is said of Bane himself: “He has no tolerance of failure and seldom thinks twice about submitting even a loyal servant to rigorous tortures to ensure complete obedience to his demanding, regimented doctrine.”⁴

And, in an appropriately lawful hierarchy, the same rule must apply from the bottom, to the top.

¹ Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide. 2014. p. 26.

² Descent into Avernus. 2019. p. 231

³ Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting 3E. 2001. pp. 237-8

⁴ Faiths & Pantheons. 2002. pp. 15-16.

⁵ Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting 3E. 2001. p. 93

⁶ Ed Greenwood Presents: Elminster’s Guide to the Forgotten Realms. 2012. pp. 135-6.

⁷ Rives’ Failures as a Banite. Baldur’s Gate 3. In-Game Text.

⁸ Bane’s Book of Admonitions. Baldur’s Gate 3. In-Game Text.

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