#Austin butler imagine
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butlervibesonly · 2 days ago
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𝑆𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠 || Austin Butler
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• Summary : Y/n is having terrible day, feeling so tired and overwhelmed lately. Until she completely loses it, but Austin gets home and everything feels safe all of sudden.
• Pairing: Austin Butler x actress! reader
• Warnings !! : angst, mentions of panic attack, crying, trembling, swearing,...
• Note : Hope y'all doing well! I thought I could write this, because we all sometimes deserve a good cry and, well, please don't tell me that I'm the only one who feels so overwhelmed lately 😭
Day by day felt same for you. All the work, meetings every day, unfinished projects... It's like a circle going around. And it's enough for you. You're sitting in living room of yours and Austin's house, your laptop lay in your lap as one notification after another flashes across your screen. Meeting tomorrow 6:00 pm, video call with producer of your next movie 11:00 am, interview at 3:00 pm.
The living room was quiet, except for the fast clicking of your keyboard as you write response to an email. The weight of the week pressed heavily on your chest, making even the simple act of sitting still feel exhausting.
Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, interrupting you. It was your manager calling you. All of sudden you remember that the couch is not the place where you should be right now. “No, no, no,” you whispered, scrambling off the couch. "Y/n! Where are you, were supposed to be at a meeting right now!" she says, sounding furious. "Shit, I uh... Sorry, I completely forgot. Will I still be able to make it on time?"
"If you'll manage to get yourself here in like 5 minutes?" You hang up the call, not even bothering to answer her. Anxiety clawed at your chest as you tried to gather your things. In your rush, you tripp over the table's leg, knocking over the glass of water you’d been drinking earlier. It fell down with a loud crash, spilling the water all over the wooden floor.
"Fuck!" you hissed, staring at the mess. The tears fill your eyes, feeling a combination of the frustration and exhaustion you’d been bottling up. Your chest tightened, your breathing quickened, and suddenly it felt like the walls were closing in on you.
You can't move, not even think. All you're capable of is sitting down on the floor, leaning against the couch. You hide your face into your hands, sobbing loudly. You didn't think that it would be so much on you and certainly not that it would ruin you like this.
No longer after, you hear the door to the house being open. Austin's home. And you're here like this. This is what he comes home to. What a shame — Austin deserves to arrive to a tidy house where everything is as it should be while you sit here like this.
“Hey, I’m home,” his familiar voice filled the space, calm and grounding. The moment he saw you, he stopped mid-sentence, his expression shifting to concern. "Sweetie, what’s going on?” You, don't replying, makes him cross the room quickly, kneeling beside you. His hands wraps you tightly. Austin actually notices the broken glass, which leads him to check if you have any cut.
"Hey, hey — Y/n, baby, what's the matter?" His voice was steady, soothing, and you clung to it like a lifeline. When he notices the laptop with tons of notes and unread emails, he gets it. He inhales slowly. “Doll, breathe okay? I'm here and I won't let you go." You nod, burying your head in his chest.
Austin holds you for a while, making you to steady your breathing. "That’s it. I’m here,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. Whatever happened, we’ll figure it out," he says, his hand careful patting circles on your back.
You started to feel better, although, the tears didn’t stop. He pulls you into his arms more firmly, wrapping you in a hug so warm and secure it almost feels like there is nothing but him.
“It’s too much,” you choke out, mumbling against his chest. “I can’t do this anymore.” Austin and you talked about how overwhelmed you're feeling, but he didn't know it's this intensive.
“You don’t have to do it all at once, ya know,” he brush his fingers through your hair. "Why don't you ask me for a help? You know I'm here for you," you look up at him, your eyes red and swollen from all the crying.
"You've got a lot of your own and I don't want to bother you, Aus," you sob out. Austin smiles softly, cupping your cheek. "Baby, you never bother me, I'm here for you no matter what, okay?" he says. You nod, pulling closer to him again.
He stayed with you like this for few more minutes, holding you close, until your breathing steadied completely. And when you finally lifted your head, not crying anymore, his warm, understanding smile was waiting for you. “Why don’t we clean this up together? Then we’ll figure out the rest. Aight?” he kisses your forehead. "Mhm," you agree, grabbing his hand.
Austin wipes away tears from your cheeks, kissing you again, and helps you to your feet, steadying you against him. In his arms, the chaos of the week seemed just a little less overwhelming. In his arms, you feel safe, loved and cared about. And it's perfect.
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movingmusically · 2 days ago
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Caught Feeling - Epilogue
Synopsis:
Y/N and Hank find themselves celebrating Christmas in San Francisco, welcomed into his family’s holiday traditions. As Y/N experiences the warmth of Hank’s childhood home, it’s clear how much their bond has grown. Together, they find comfort in the idea of a future—one that feels like home, no matter where they are.
Author’s Note:
This was meant to be a short chapter with a small time skip to finish the story, but it’s ended up being the longest of all. I’m sure I could have edited it down a bit more but I got carried away.
Thank you so much for reading Caught Feeling! It’s the first time I’ve tried writing anything, and I’ve loved every moment of creating these characters and sharing their journey. I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Word Count: 10,074
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The flight from New York had been long but filled with a quiet excitement that buzzed between us. As we touched down in San Francisco, I felt a thrill of anticipation mingled with a hint of nerves. Hank stayed close, his fingers laced with mine, grounding me with each reassuring squeeze. The crisp air of the city greeted us as we stepped out of the airport, the warmth of California in December an unfamiliar contrast to the biting chill I was used to back in New York.
We collected our bags and made our way to the hire car I’d arranged in advance. I slid behind the wheel, adjusting to the slight strangeness of being in control after so long, and Hank settled in beside me, a relaxed smile playing on his lips as he reached over to rest a comforting hand on my knee. It was my turn to be the steady one, to navigate this last leg of the journey as he leaned back, gazing out at the passing scenery with a look that was equal parts nostalgic and contemplative.
The streets wound up gently toward his parents’ neighbourhood, a mix of towering palms and cheerful holiday decorations adorning the houses we passed. I couldn’t help but marvel at the unfamiliar sight of Christmas lights twinkling against green lawns, rather than snow-covered streets. It felt surreal—this warmth, this different version of December. Part of me missed the chill of New York, the way it made everything feel more festive, but there was a charm to this as well, a reminder that Christmas could feel like home in more than one way.
Finally, as we approached his parents’ house, my nerves prickled again. Hank must have sensed it, because he reached for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “They’re going to love you,” he murmured, his voice filled with that calm assurance I’d come to trust.
Before we even had a chance to knock, the door swung open, and there was his mum, her face lighting up with pure joy at the sight of us. She stepped forward, arms wide open, and pulled Hank into a warm hug before turning to me, her expression radiating a welcome that eased the last of my nerves.
“And you must be Y/N!” she said, her voice full of warmth. She pulled me into a hug that felt instantly comforting, like I was already part of this family.
As she stepped back, Hank’s dad appeared behind her, his smile steady and welcoming. He shook my hand firmly, then clapped Hank on the back with a look of approval that seemed to speak volumes. “Welcome to our home,” he said, his tone genuine and kind.
Inside, the air was filled with the scent of fresh pine and cinnamon, the rooms cozy and inviting with festive touches everywhere—garlands winding up the banister, stockings hanging by the fireplace, and a scattering of old family photos that gave me a glimpse of Hank as a kid. Seeing him in those snapshots—grinning with a gap-toothed smile, his hair bleached from the summer sun—made me feel like I was peeking into a world I’d only heard about before now.
As we stepped further into the house, Hank’s mum moved about with an eager, warm energy, pointing out little mementos and details that made this house a true home. “See this?” she said, pausing by a shelf that displayed a neat row of snow globes. “Henry used to collect these when he was little. Every family trip, we had to find a new one. I think he even tried to convince us once that a trip to the grocery store counted, just so he could get another one.”
Hank let out a groan, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was ten, Ma”
She waved a hand, undeterred. “You were persistent! And then there’s this…” She pointed to a photo on the wall of a much younger Hank, arms stretched wide, grinning from ear to ear with a front tooth missing, standing in front of the Golden Gate Bridge. His dad stood behind him, hands resting on Hank’s shoulders with an expression of fatherly pride, and his mum, laughing beside them, had her arm wrapped around both.
“Look at that smile,” I teased, nudging him gently. “Future heartbreaker right there.”
Hank rolled his eyes, but his lips quirked into a smile. “I’m sure the missing tooth really did it for the girls.”
His mum chuckled, resting her hand on my shoulder. “Oh, don’t let him fool you. He had the girls at school bringing him cookies every week. Thought I wouldn’t notice how fast he went through his lunch money.”
“Ma…” Hank muttered, his cheeks flushing faintly. He glanced at me, clearly torn between embarrassment and amusement.
“Oh, he’d get so flustered when they’d show up at the door with little love notes!” she continued, her eyes bright with nostalgia. “One Valentine’s Day, I remember finding a whole pile of them stuffed into his backpack.”
His dad chuckled from behind us, crossing his arms with a knowing grin. “And he claimed they were ‘extra homework,’ if you can believe it.”
Hank laughed, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe they were revealing all this. “Can we maybe not expose every embarrassing thing I did before age sixteen?”
“Oh, don’t worry, Henry,” his mum said with a wink, “I’m saving the truly good ones for later.”
After we’d settled in and had a delicious dinner filled with laughter and more tales of Hank’s misadventures, his mum brought out a large, well-loved box marked “Christmas” in faded handwriting. “How about a bit of tree decorating?” she suggested, smiling as she handed us each an ornament to start.
I took the small, glittery reindeer she’d handed me, noting its slightly lopsided antler. “Did you make this one?” I asked Hank, holding it up to him with a grin.
He nodded, groaning with an exaggerated sigh. “Fourth Grade art class. I thought glitter was the answer to everything.”
“Well, it’s adorable,” I said, carefully placing it on a branch near the front.
As we continued to unwrap each ornament, his mum handed me a small baseball bat ornament with Hank’s name painted in neat, blocky letters. “This one’s from the first season he played in the local league,” she explained. “We were so proud of him, running the bases with such determination… until he tripped and ended up with a black eye,” she added, laughing.
Hank covered his face with one hand, trying not to laugh. “Why do you remember every single one of my injuries?”
“Because, love,” his mum replied, brushing a hand over his shoulder, “I was the one with the ice packs, the Band-Aids, and the endless worrying. And besides,” she added, glancing at me with a conspiratorial smile, “I knew someday these stories would come in handy.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, feeling warmth settle over me as I looked between them. This was Hank’s history, his foundation, and being here, hearing these stories, felt like getting to know him all over again. It was a privilege, one that I held with a quiet reverence.
As we hung the last few ornaments, Hank’s mum handed me a small, carefully wrapped package. “I have something for you, too,” she said, her voice soft.
I unwrapped it slowly, finding a hand-carved wooden heart painted with delicate floral designs. My breath caught, and I looked up, my eyes meeting hers.
“This is beautiful,” I murmured, touched beyond words.
She smiled, resting her hand on my arm. “Every year, we add a new ornament that represents someone important to us. This year, we thought it was time we added you.”
The gesture rendered me momentarily speechless, a rush of emotion welling up in my chest. I turned to Hank, who was watching with that familiar warmth in his eyes, a look that held both pride and affection.
“Thank you,” I whispered, unable to keep the emotion from my voice. I found a spot on the tree for the heart, carefully hanging it on a branch where it could catch the light. I felt Hank’s hand on my back, steadying me, and I glanced over, catching his gaze.
“Looks perfect,” he murmured, his voice soft.
As we finished decorating, Hank’s dad turned on the Christmas lights, casting a soft glow that made the ornaments sparkle, each one reflecting the memories they held. We all stood back, admiring the tree, and I felt Hank’s arm slip around my waist, pulling me close.
“Welcome to the family, Y/N,” his mum said warmly, reaching over to squeeze my hand. Her words settled over me like a blanket, wrapping me in warmth, and in that moment, I felt something profound—a sense of belonging that I hadn’t quite realised I was searching for.
And as we all stood there, the soft hum of a Christmas song filling the room, I looked up at Hank, my heart full. This was his family, his life, and now, I was part of it too.
After a cosy evening with Hank’s family, we nestled together on the sofa in the living room, the soft glow of the fireplace and the twinkling Christmas tree lights creating a warm, quiet space. Hank rested his arm along the back of the sofa, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my shoulder as I pulled out my phone to video call my family, the anticipation of seeing their familiar faces making my heart flutter. Hank tightened his arm around me, giving me a reassuring squeeze as I hit the call button.
It didn’t take long for the screen to fill with everyone’s faces—Mum front and centre, Dean and Viki leaning in on one side, Barry on the other, and Shaun and Meg squeezing into the frame from the back, each one of them grinning widely. Just seeing them all together brought a flood of warmth, a piece of home I hadn’t realised I’d missed so much.
“Hey! There they are!” Mum said, her voice full of holiday cheer. “Merry Christmas, you two!”
“Merry Christmas!” we chorused back.
Viki waved, giving us a warm smile. “You two look very cosy over there. Not missing the chaos, are you, Y/N?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Oh, I don’t know… I heard there’s a serious Lord of the Rings Trivial Pursuit gap without me there to answer all the obscure questions.”
Shaun groaned dramatically, giving me a mock glare. “You’ve abandoned us, Y/N! You know we’re struggling without you.”
Mum raised her hands in mock innocence. “Hey, I don’t make the rules! I’m just saying, it’s been a struggle without our trivia queen here… Hank, you’d better be prepared next year. We could use another brain in the game!”
Meg snickered, chiming in, “Yeah, Nan’s barely keeping up. We need all the help we can get!”
Hank chuckled, glancing at me with a glint in his eye. “I’ll be ready, I promise. Y/N’s been preparing me with her endless Tolkien trivia.”
Dean raised his glass, grinning. “You’d better be prepared for more than just trivia, Hank. We’ve got a monopoly champion to defend and Articulate to play. Y/N’s been our reigning champ, but she’s already warned us you might give her a run for her money.”
I shot Hank a teasing look, nudging him gently. “Guess I’ll have to step up my game.”
Viki chimed in with a laugh. “And make sure you’re ready for Mum’s endless spread of food. She’s been feeding us as if we’re preparing for a winter famine.”
Barry leaned in, raising an eyebrow. “Just make sure to bring an appetite, Hank. Mum’s Christmas dinners aren’t for the faint-hearted.”
Meg nudged Barry with a grin. “And don’t worry, we’ll make sure you’re on our team for Cards Against Humanity.”
The laughter that filled the room was infectious, Hank fitting so seamlessly into the banter that it felt like he’d been part of this tradition all along. The camera panned around to show the spread of food on the table, so much that it could easily feed twice their number. I shook my head, a mixture of exasperation and fondness welling up inside me.
Hank smiled down at me, his arm tightening slightly as he murmured, “You’ve got a pretty incredible family, you know that?”
I nodded, my heart swelling. “I do. And now they’re stuck with you too.”
Barry leaned closer to the screen, giving Hank a mock-serious look. “Just remember, Hank, if you mess with her, you’re dealing with all of us.”
“Oh, stop it, Barry,” Viki laughed, swatting him playfully. “We’re just glad Y/N’s got someone who makes her smile like that.”
As we wrapped up the call, Dean raised his glass one last time, grinning. “Merry Christmas, guys. See you soon—hope you’re ready for next year!”
We ended the call, and I nestled closer to Hank, feeling a beautiful mix of warmth and contentment as my two worlds had, for the first time, truly intertwined.
As the night drew to a close, and the house settled into a comfortable silence, Hank and I made our way to the guest room, which I quickly realised had once been his bedroom. Though redecorated, I could still feel the lingering essence of his teenage years—a mix of nostalgia and a faint trace of rebellion that seemed to cling to the walls. It wasn’t hard to imagine younger Hank here, the boy with the gap-toothed grin and a heart full of dreams.
“So,” I began with a grin, glancing around at the now-muted colours and neatly arranged furniture. “This is where you had all those boy band posters, right? Somehow, I can just picture it… you, listening to their music, practising your moves in the mirror.”
Hank let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Listen, everyone had a boy band phase. And I’ll have you know I nailed those moves.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” I replied, smirking as I pictured a young Hank, probably with a slightly awkward haircut and way too much enthusiasm, doing his best boy band impression. I took in the room around us, letting my mind wander through a version of him I’d never known. A thought nudged at me, and I gave him a sidelong glance, trying to hold back a playful smile.
“You know,” I said slowly, leaning against the desk, “you already told me you’d have noticed me back then… so tell me, how would you have gotten me in here?”
Hank raised an eyebrow, folding his arms with a casual confidence that was slightly undone by the amused glint in his eyes. “Well,” he said slowly, leaning against the door frame, “I’d probably come up with some excuse. Like needing help with a biology assignment or something. Just enough to get you to come over, but not too obvious.”
“Ah,” I replied, nodding as if considering the scenario. “And I’d be the quiet girl who was half-convinced you didn’t even know I existed. So when you asked me to help, I’d probably agree and then spend the entire time overthinking every single thing.”
He laughed softly, stepping a bit closer. “And maybe I’d be sitting there, acting like I didn’t notice how nervous you were. Trying to think of something smooth to say but ending up just staring at my textbook.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to leave you hanging with your grades,” I replied, shooting him a coy smile as I made my way over to the bed, sitting down cross-legged and mimicking the studious expression of someone who took their biology assignments very seriously. “Let’s see… we should probably start with DNA replication, right?”
A glint of amusement crossed his face as he took in what I was doing, his eyes narrowing slightly in a mix of challenge and delight. Hank wandered over, taking a seat on the edge of the bed beside me, his posture just shy enough to fit the role but with an undercurrent of something else—like a hidden anticipation.
“Right… DNA replication,” he murmured, glancing down as if he really was trying to piece together the assignment. “To be honest, I’d probably be way too distracted to actually learn anything.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m here to help you focus,” I replied, keeping my tone lightly teasing as I pretended to flip through an imaginary textbook, keeping one eye on him as he settled into the character, playing the slightly shy, endearing athlete who’d asked for help but was really hoping for more than just study notes.
We exchanged a glance, both of us holding back smiles as we leaned into the roles. There was a charged undercurrent in the air, a shared understanding that we were toeing the line between the playful and the thrilling, caught up in this little fantasy we were building together. And as he settled beside me, our knees just barely brushing, it felt like we’d created our own private world—one where anticipation simmered just beneath the surface, waiting to unfold.
I watched Hank’s face as I tried to explain the basics of DNA replication, and it was clear he was already lost. His brow furrowed, and he had this slightly blank look, like he was genuinely trying but couldn’t make heads or tails of it. I stifled a laugh, realising that my usual approach wasn’t going to cut it.
“Alright, let’s try something different,” I said, scooting a bit closer on the bed. “Think of it like… baseball.”
He perked up, interest sparking in his eyes. “I’m listening.”
“Okay,” I began, giving him a small, encouraging smile. “Imagine DNA as the team’s playbook. It holds all the instructions the cell needs to function, just like a playbook has all the strategies for a game.”
He nodded, still looking at me a bit skeptically but clearly trying to follow along.
“So, DNA replication is kind of like making extra copies of the playbook,” I continued. “You’d need multiple copies so every player on the team is on the same page. In a cell, each new cell needs its own full set of DNA instructions to work properly.”
He raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Okay, I think I get that part.”
Encouraged, I went on. “Now, think of DNA polymerase as the pitcher. Its job is to add new bases to create the second strand, like a pitcher throwing to different players on the field.”
I could see him focusing harder, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he tried to keep up. “Alright…”
“And the runner is like the replicated strand,” I explained, warming up to the analogy. “When the runner starts, they’re the original strand, but they’re guiding the new strand to ‘bases’ until the replication is complete. It keeps the game moving, ensuring that the DNA copy is accurate and ready for the next ‘game’—or, in this case, the next cell division.”
Hank gave a slow, thoughtful nod. “So… it’s like… every base has its playbook, and everyone’s following along to keep the game from falling apart?”
“Exactly!” I said, unable to hide my excitement at his breakthrough. “And any mistakes in DNA replication are like fouls in the game—if something goes wrong, it messes up the whole play.”
He let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Alright, I think I get it. Sort of. But only because you somehow made it about baseball.” He leaned in, his expression softening, and I could feel the playful energy between us shifting slightly. “You’re actually really good at this, you know?”
“Well, I’ve had some practice,” I replied, trying to play it cool. But something about the way he was looking at me, that warm, appreciative gaze, made my pulse quicken.
We held each other’s eyes for a moment, and I felt a blush creeping up my neck. He was still sitting close, our knees brushing, and for a split second, I was fully lost in the moment, imagining what it would have been like if we’d really been teenagers, sitting here, caught up in this kind of nervous, thrilling closeness.
Clearing my throat, I tried to steer us back into character, flipping an imaginary page in my pretend textbook. “So, um… now that you understand DNA replication, I guess we should… review it again? Just to be thorough, of course.”
Hank caught onto my tone instantly, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leaned closer. “Of course,” he murmured, his voice low, matching my playfully serious tone. “Wouldn’t want to miss any details.”
The air between us felt charged, our little fantasy blurring into something more, and I could feel my heart racing as he settled even closer beside me, his knee pressing gently against mine.
I tried to stifle a laugh as Hank scratched the back of his neck, looking up at me with the kind of earnestness that felt so out of character for him, it was almost adorable.
“So, uh… DNA replication, right?” he asked, his brow furrowing in mock concentration, though his gaze kept drifting to my waist, lingering a beat longer than necessary on the sliver of skin between my top and skirt.
“Exactly,” I replied, crossing my arms to keep up the facade of a serious study session, though I could feel my lips twitching, dangerously close to breaking into a smile. “Think of it like… you’re the DNA polymerase—the key player here. You’re adding new bases, making sure each base pairs with its partner.”
His eyes flicked up to meet mine, and I could see the glint of amusement hiding there, despite his best efforts. “Okay, okay… so I’m, what? The main guy keeping everything in line?”
I leaned in a little, keeping my voice low, as if I were explaining something top-secret. “Exactly. Without you, the whole replication process would fall apart.” I tapped a finger against his shoulder playfully. “But don’t let it go to your head.”
“Oh, wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a tone that made me feel as though we were teetering on the edge of something more. He shifted, and his knee brushed mine again, the touch sending a little thrill up my spine. But I kept my cool, giving him a look that said, Nice try.
“And just so we’re clear,” I continued, pretending to flip an imaginary page in our “textbook,” “if anything goes wrong in this process, it could mess up the whole ‘game’—it’s your responsibility to keep everything in order.”
“Oh, no pressure, then,” he replied, his voice dipping into something soft, something almost challenging, as his gaze settled on me again. “Good thing I’ve got such a… dedicated tutor.” He was close enough now that I could feel his breath, the warmth of it sending little sparks along my skin. His tone was still teasing, but his eyes had softened, that familiar warmth deepening into something that made my heart stumble.
I tried to steer us back, keeping my voice steady even as I felt the charged energy building between us. “Well, don’t think this means you’re off the hook,” I managed, trying to hold onto the last shreds of our playful act. “I expect you to actually learn something here, Hank.”
He leaned a little closer, his hand coming to rest on my knee, his fingers brushing against the fabric in a way that sent a shiver through me. “Oh, I’m learning a lot,” he murmured, his voice low, almost reverent, and suddenly, I was the one forgetting where we’d left off in our “lesson.”
My pulse quickened as his hand drifted a little higher, settling at my waist, his thumb tracing a slow, steady line along the edge of my top. His gaze held mine, filled with that warm intensity I’d come to know, yet right now, it felt heightened, amplified by the thrill of this little game we were playing.
He leaned in, his lips just a breath away, and his voice softened as he said, “Think you could give me a little… extra credit?”
The playful edge to his tone made me laugh, even as my heart pounded against my ribs. “That depends,” I replied, voice barely a whisper, feeling as though we were standing on the brink of something new, something that had been building between us since the moment we met.
For a moment, we stayed there, caught between teasing and something deeper, something almost inevitable. And then, slowly, he closed the distance, his lips meeting mine in a way that felt both familiar and entirely fresh—like a first kiss all over again. The room faded away, and all I could feel was him, the warmth of his hand at my waist, the gentle pressure of his lips against mine as we sank further into each other, the rest of the world forgotten.
We stayed wrapped up in the moment, leaning into the fantasy that we were two teenagers, stealing a kiss on the edge of something thrilling and new. There was an innocence to it, a softness, as if we were both trying to channel the nerves and curiosity of a first crush. The tension simmered beneath the surface, charged by the awareness that, despite the pretence, we both knew each other so much more deeply.
His lips brushed mine with a tentative, almost hesitant touch, like he was figuring out what I liked, even though we both knew he’d long since mastered that. But we stayed in character, letting the kiss build slowly, sweetly, as if we were figuring each other out for the very first time. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss just a fraction, and I could feel him smiling against my lips, like he was enjoying the challenge of holding back, of letting this fantasy play out.
I pulled back just a little, a grin tugging at my lips. “You’re really committed to this biology tutoring session, aren’t you?”
He chuckled softly, and I could see the spark of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Well, you know… I heard the tutor was kind of cute. Thought I might get a little extra help if I showed interest.” His fingers traced a light, teasing line down my arm, his touch just shy enough to fit the role of the slightly nervous high schooler.
“Oh, so that’s what this is,” I replied, arching a brow, though I could feel the warmth of his hand radiating through me, the real connection simmering beneath the surface of our act. “Just trying to sweet-talk the tutor?”
He looked away, feigning a shy smile that I knew all too well was part of the role. “Maybe… if she doesn’t mind.” His gaze flicked back to mine, and there was something there, a playful glint mixed with genuine warmth, making me feel like we were perfectly balanced between make-believe and something real.
I bit my lip, playing along, letting my voice dip into a softer tone. “Well, I suppose I could be convinced… if you keep up the good work.” I leaned in, brushing my lips against his again, feeling his hand settle more confidently on my waist, the touch grounding us even as we danced around the edges of this little fantasy.
His fingers tightened slightly, as if he was losing himself in the moment, and I felt the same. It was intoxicating, letting ourselves pretend this was something brand new, even though we both knew the comfort and depth that had already grown between us. And yet, somehow, that made it even sweeter—the thrill of rediscovering each other as if for the first time, layered with everything we knew and loved about each other.
When he pulled back, his forehead resting against mine, he let out a soft laugh. “You know, if this were high school, I’d probably be way too nervous to actually go through with this.”
I smiled, keeping my voice low, as if we really were sneaking around, just shy of being caught. “Good thing it’s just role-play, then. This time, you’re allowed to be a little brave.”
He grinned, his thumb brushing along my waist in a way that made my pulse jump. “Good thing,” he murmured, his voice soft, playful, but with that edge of sincerity that reminded me we weren’t just acting.
The shift was subtle, almost imperceptible, but I felt it—a tension slipping through, breaking the thin barrier of our little game. His fingers traced a slow, deliberate line along my waist, his touch a little firmer, no longer holding back as much. The playful air that had hung between us melted, replaced by something deeper, something that had been simmering just beneath the surface all along.
I looked up at him, and the glint of amusement in his eyes had softened, replaced by an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. We weren’t pretending anymore, and we both knew it.
“Hank…” I whispered, the name barely a breath, filled with a meaning I couldn’t quite put into words. His hand slid up, cupping my face, his thumb brushing along my cheek in a way that felt so achingly familiar, yet electric, as if it was the first time all over again.
“Yeah?” he replied, his voice low, rough around the edges, like he was just as caught up in this as I was. His gaze held mine, unwavering, and I could feel my heart pounding, every beat echoing through me, pulling me closer to him, grounding me in the moment.
I couldn’t keep up the act, couldn’t pretend this was just another game. My hands slid up his arms, feeling the strength beneath my fingertips, tracing the lines of someone I knew so well, yet felt like I was discovering anew. And in that moment, I didn’t care about the pretence, didn’t care about anything beyond the warmth of him, the way his presence filled every inch of the room, of me.
Without a word, he leaned in, capturing my lips in a kiss that was anything but tentative. It was deep, real, filled with an urgency that stole the breath from my lungs. His hand slipped to the small of my back, pulling me closer until there wasn’t an inch between us, until I could feel the steady, reassuring beat of his heart, grounding me even as it sent a thrill through every nerve.
My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing him closer. His hands roamed over me, familiar yet thrilling, like he was rediscovering every inch, every curve. The playful pretence was long gone, replaced by something raw, something that felt like it had been waiting to break free all along.
We were lost in each other, in the quiet intensity that had always been there, simmering beneath the surface. His lips trailed down my neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, and I felt myself arch into him, my body responding instinctively, surrendering to the moment, to him.
With a surge of confidence, I pushed him back, and he fell onto the edge of the bed, his eyes lighting up with a spark of surprise that quickly turned into something darker, something full of intent. Before I could even process the thrill of taking the lead, his hands gripped my waist, steady and sure, and he shifted us, turning me so that I was lying beneath him, his body hovering over mine, a quiet challenge in his gaze.
For a moment, he held himself there, his weight balanced just enough that I felt his presence without feeling trapped, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that made my breath hitch. His fingers brushed along my sides, tracing a slow, steady path down, sending a trail of warmth that lingered long after his touch moved on.
And then, his hands reached the hem of my skirt, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric with a deliberateness that made my pulse race. His touch was firm but unhurried, like he wanted to savour every second, each moment stretching out between us, charged and electric. He kept his gaze on mine, a silent question passing between us as he eased the skirt up, his hands travelling along the bare skin of my calves, then thighs, his fingers warm and grounding.
I could feel every inch of his touch as he lifted the fabric higher, his grip tightening slightly as his hands moved, the air between us thickening with each passing second. The deliberate pace, the way he held himself above me, exuding both strength and gentleness, was enough to make me lose myself entirely.
His lips brushed against my jaw, then drifted down, trailing heat along my neck, his breath warm against my skin. He paused, hovering just at the curve of my shoulder, his fingers tracing small, languid circles along the top of my thigh, as if teasing us both, drawing out the moment until the tension felt like it could snap.
I arched into him, my hands finding their way to his back, gripping him, urging him closer, needing more of him, every inch. And he responded, his hands slipping just a bit higher, his touch grounding me even as it made me feel weightless, our breaths mingling, each beat of my heart thrumming in rhythm with his.
Hank’s hands slid down to the edge of my skirt, fingers grazing the soft fabric before slipping beneath, tracing a line along my thighs. His touch was deliberate, his movements slow as he lifted the skirt higher, exposing more skin with each gentle push of his hands. I could feel the warmth of his breath close to my neck, his lips barely an inch away as his fingers brushed over the thin fabric of my panties, lingering just for a second before he hooked his thumbs under the waistband.
Our eyes met, and there was a flash of something playful in his gaze, softened by the intensity that simmered beneath. He tugged my panties down slowly, his hands steady as he slipped them off, his touch lingering on my legs as he pulled them past my knees and then let the fabric fall away. His gaze flicked down, and a slight smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he noticed the tell-tale dampness that had already formed on the fabric.
His smirk deepened as he held up my panties, glancing at the damp spot with that familiar glint in his eyes. “Looks like someone was already waiting for this,” he murmured, his voice rough and teasing.
I bit my lip, feeling a rush of heat under his gaze, but I wasn’t about to let him have all the fun. “You could say I was prepared,” I shot back, my tone equally playful, daring, as I reached up and tugged him closer by the collar of his shirt. “And here you are, taking your sweet time.”
That did it. His smirk faded into something darker, more intense, and his eyes narrowed slightly, as though I’d just issued a challenge he was more than ready to accept. He tossed the panties aside without another thought, his hands sliding up to grip my waist, firm and possessive, holding me in place as his gaze swept over me, taking in every inch with a hunger that made my skin flush.
“Taking my time?” he echoed, his voice low, rough with a promise that made my pulse skip. “Guess I’ll have to make up for that.”
He leaned in, capturing my lips in a kiss that was fierce, unrestrained, all pretence and patience gone, replaced by a need that bordered on desperation. He gripped the hem of my top, tugging it up and over my head in one swift motion, discarding it carelessly to the floor. I barely had time to catch my breath before his fingers slipped beneath my bra strap, pushing it off my shoulder with a roughness that sent a thrill through me, his movements no longer restrained.
He leaned in, his lips brushing along my collarbone, his hands settling on my hips and pulling me flush against him. I could feel the heat of him, his heart beating hard through the fabric of his shirt, and it was enough to make me feel dizzy with need. My hands found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward, and he lifted his arms just enough for me to pull it over his head, tossing it aside as I let my hands roam over his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under my fingertips.
He let out a low, satisfied sound as I traced my hands along the hard lines of his torso, my fingers gliding over his skin, feeling the warmth radiating beneath. As I ventured lower, my touch met the trail of hair starting just below his navel, leading down in a way that was both enticing and grounding, a subtle invitation that left my own pulse racing. The roughness of his breath against my neck told me I was driving him just as wild, his chest rising and falling beneath my touch, each shallow inhale and exhale a silent testament to the restraint he was barely holding onto. It was intoxicating, knowing that every small movement, every lingering touch, was unraveling him in the same way he was unraveling me.
I matched his intensity, my hands moving to the waistband of his jeans, fingers working quickly to undo the button, and he shifted just enough to help me push them down, the denim sliding to the floor. As he kicked them off, he pulled me close again, his mouth finding mine in a kiss that was raw, full of the need we’d been holding back for too long.
My hand slipped down, feeling the heat and hardness of him straining through his boxers. I pressed my palm against him, feeling the dampness at the tip, the evidence of his desire sending a thrill through me. He let out a low, rough sound that made my pulse race, his hips pushing into my hand, silently asking for more.
I couldn’t resist a teasing smile, looking up at him as I whispered, “Guess I’m not the only one who was waiting.”
His answering grin was dark, his gaze full of intent that left no doubt about where this was heading. “You have no idea,” he murmured, his voice thick with need.
In one swift movement, he pushed my skirt higher, fingers hooking under the remaining fabric and freeing me completely. With his hands still tracing up my thighs, he paused, his gaze flicking to mine for a heartbeat before he leaned down, his lips trailing a path from my collarbone downward, his touch both reverent and filled with raw hunger.
His mouth found my breast, lips brushing over the sensitive skin, his breath warm as he began to press slow, deliberate kisses along the curve, igniting every nerve in its wake. His hand slipped around, cupping me, his thumb grazing over the peak, making me shiver as he took his time, letting the anticipation build.
When his lips finally closed around my nipple, a gasp escaped me, my back arching into him, the sensation sending a shock of pleasure straight through me. He flicked his tongue over the sensitive skin, slow and teasing, before sucking gently, his gaze lifting to meet mine with a dark intensity that left me breathless. The roughness of his stubble against my skin, paired with the warmth of his mouth, was almost too much, every touch stoking the fire that had been building between us.
His free hand moved down, tracing along my waist before he shifted slightly, pressing himself closer, the hardness of him through his boxers a reminder of just how far gone we both were. My hand slipped down instinctively, feeling him again through the fabric, harder now, the dampness at the tip that sent another thrill through me.
“Don’t stop,” I murmured, barely able to form words, lost in the feel of him, in the way his mouth and hands moved over me, each touch leaving me aching for more. His lips moved to my other breast, giving it the same devoted attention, sucking and teasing until I felt like I might come undone.
With a low groan, he finally leaned back, his hands slipping to the waistband of his boxers. He gave me a look that was both a question and a promise, his gaze locked on mine as he tugged them down, finally freeing himself completely. The sight of him above me, every inch bare and unrestrained, sent a shiver through me, my body responding instinctively, every nerve alive with the anticipation of what was to come.
My hand drifted down, wrapping around him, feeling the warmth and hardness beneath my fingers. He let out a quiet, shuddering breath, his hips pressing forward instinctively, responding to my touch. I stroked him slowly, savouring the weight of him, the way he fit so perfectly against my hand, each movement building a rhythm that left us both breathless.
I leaned up, capturing his mouth in a soft, lingering kiss, feeling the heat radiating between us as our bodies moved closer, all pretence gone. Without a word, I turned, giving him a playful glance over my shoulder as I bent forward, resting on my hands, inviting him. The air between us thickened, charged with anticipation, and I felt my heart race as he positioned himself behind me, his hands firm on my hips, steadying us both.
I could feel the wetness between my thighs, the undeniable evidence of my need, and when he moved, pressing himself against me, his hardness was almost overwhelming, grounding me in the intensity of the moment. He entered me slowly, filling me in a way that made me gasp, my hands gripping the sheets as we both adjusted to the closeness, the perfect, electrifying fit.
For a moment, we stayed still, caught in the quiet intimacy of the moment. Then he leaned forward, his chest pressing against my back as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me up so we were both on our knees, our bodies fitting together seamlessly. His mouth found the curve of my neck, his lips trailing soft kisses along my skin, making me shiver as he began to move, each thrust slow and deliberate, drawing us both deeper into the moment.
One of his hands found my breast, his fingers brushing over my nipple, sending a surge of pleasure through me as he continued to kiss my neck, his breath hot and unsteady against my skin. His other hand drifted lower, fingers grazing the sensitive spot between my thighs, adding another layer to the intensity building between us.
“Keep quiet,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, a teasing edge in his tone as his fingers continued their deliberate movements, each touch leaving me feeling more unraveled, more vulnerable in the best possible way. I bit my lip, trying to stifle a moan, my breath shaky as I leaned back against his chest, feeling the steady, grounding beat of his heart against my back.
Then he paused, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to my shoulder. I felt him shift, his hands guiding me as he turned me around to face him, his gaze soft and full of that familiar warmth that always made me feel safe. He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his thumb lingering along my cheek, his eyes holding mine with an intensity that left me feeling completely exposed, but in the best way.
“I want to see you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as his hands settled on my waist, steady and sure, pulling me close until there wasn’t a breath between us. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him down to me, letting our foreheads touch as our breaths mingled, the world outside fading completely.
“So beautiful… and all mine,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet intensity that sent a thrill through me, his lips brushing against my shoulder, lingering as though he wanted me to feel every word. I felt the warmth of his breath on my skin, each syllable wrapping around me, grounding me in his presence.
“I’m yours,” I whispered back, my voice soft but full of meaning, hoping he could feel everything I was trying to say, every layer of trust and love I was offering him in those two simple words.
We stayed close, our bodies pressed together, moving in sync, his hands steady on my waist as he held me. His mouth found mine, capturing me in a kiss that was both soft and intense, as if he wanted to savour every second. I felt his hand slip to the small of my back, guiding us gently down onto the bed, his body lowering over me, fitting perfectly against mine as he settled between my thighs.
His gaze held mine as he entered me again, filling me completely, every inch grounding me in the depth of what we shared. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close, letting myself sink into the moment, feeling the warmth and weight of him, our bodies fitting together in perfect harmony.
Our bodies moved together, falling into a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing, like an unspoken language we both understood. His forehead rested against mine, and he whispered, his voice barely a breath, “You’re incredible, you know that?”
I felt a smile tug at my lips, my hand moving to trace along his jaw, feeling the strength and gentleness in every inch of him. “So are you, baby,” I murmured, my voice thick with emotion, letting my fingers trail over his skin, grounding myself in the closeness we’d built. The way he looked at me, his gaze soft and full of something unbreakable, made my heart swell, and I felt like I was seeing every layer of him, every part he’d ever trusted me with.
As he pulled me closer, our bodies fitting perfectly, his lips brushed over my shoulder, each kiss filled with a tenderness that left me breathless. I arched into him, feeling my breath catch, every nerve alight as his mouth moved to my neck, leaving a trail of warmth that seemed to linger, grounding me in the intensity of the moment.
I let out a soft gasp, my fingers pressing into his shoulders, anchoring us both as we moved together, the rhythm between us building, steady and unrelenting, yet filled with a reverence that made it feel like we were rediscovering each other. He looked into my eyes, his gaze deep and unwavering, and I could see every feeling reflected there, every emotion he couldn’t put into words.
As the intensity grew, he wrapped an arm around my waist, lifting me just enough so that our bodies pressed even closer, amplifying the connection between us. His hand found mine, fingers intertwining, our grips tightening as we both reached that tipping point, holding onto each other as if we were afraid to let go.
He looked down at me, his gaze soft and filled with that familiar warmth that made me feel safe, cherished. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice rough with sincerity, his hands tightening around me, holding me as if he didn’t want to let go, as if he was afraid the moment would slip away.
The weight of his words, the depth in his eyes, made my heart swell, and I tightened my grip on him, feeling every beat of his heart, matching the rhythm of our bodies, our connection grounding us in something that felt endless. “I love you too,” I replied, “So much,” my voice soft but full of the certainty that came from knowing he was a part of me.
He kissed me deeply, our breaths mingling as we found our rhythm again, each movement building, drawing us closer. I could feel the intensity growing, every touch, every whispered word amplifying the connection between us, making it impossible to think of anything but him, but us.
When we finally came undone together, it was in a shared breath, a moment that felt endless, timeless, as though everything else in the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of us wrapped in each other. We stayed like that, holding each other close, letting the warmth and comfort of our connection settle around us, knowing that this—this shared intimacy and closeness—was exactly where we both wanted to be.
After, we lay together in the soft glow of the room, wrapped in the warmth of each other, the silence between us comfortable and filled with an understanding that needed no words. I nestled into him, feeling his fingers lazily tracing circles along my back, his other hand entwined with mine, both of us simply basking in the afterglow, letting the moment settle over us.
After a while, Hank let out a soft sigh, his gaze drifting around the room, a pensive look crossing his face. “It’s… surreal, you know?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Being here with you. Thinking about how much has changed since… since I was that kid growing up here.”
He paused, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes as he looked back at me. “Sometimes I feel like I’m still trying to shake off parts of who I was back then… like I’m always fighting to be something more.”
I squeezed his hand gently, letting him know I understood. “You’re not that boy anymore, Hank,” I said softly, my voice steady, filled with every bit of truth I felt. “You’ve become someone stronger. And I love who you’ve become.”
A small smile tugged at his lips as he looked down at me, his gaze softening, that familiar warmth returning to his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face. “For seeing me… for all of it.”
I leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, grounding us both in the quiet reassurance that, here together, we’d found something solid, something that embraced not just who we were but who we’d become. We stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, letting the comfort of the moment hold us close.
The next morning, a soft glow filtered in through the curtains, casting a gentle light across the room as I stirred awake, feeling the familiar warmth of Hank beside me. We shared a sleepy smile, our faces inches apart as we lay there, basking in the quiet comfort of the moment before finally getting up. The sounds of soft laughter and holiday music drifted up from the kitchen below, filling the house with a warmth that felt like home.
Hank wrapped an arm around my waist as we headed downstairs, the scent of fresh coffee and cinnamon drawing us in. His parents were already seated at the table, both beaming as they welcomed us into the cosy chaos of Christmas morning. The table was spread with all kinds of treats—freshly baked cinnamon rolls, scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and a small stack of pancakes his mum insisted was “just in case anyone was still hungry.” It was the kind of meal that made the house feel full of love, and I felt myself sink into the warmth of it, cherishing every moment.
After breakfast, we exchanged small, thoughtful gifts, an unexpected delight as we each presented our tokens of appreciation. Hank gifted his mum a delicate necklace with a small heart pendant, her face lighting up as she clutched it to her chest with teary eyes. For his dad, he handed over a beautifully bound edition of a classic baseball book they’d bonded over when he was a kid. Watching the pride in his dad’s eyes as he accepted the gift, I could see the shared memories, the way those moments had shaped Hank into who he was.
When it was my turn, I handed Hank a flat, square package wrapped neatly in silver paper with a hint of red ribbon. He raised an eyebrow, a curious smile playing on his lips as he carefully unwrapped it. Inside was a custom vinyl record, the cover designed with a simple but meaningful image of two coffee mugs resting together—a nod to the mornings we’d shared at our favourite café.
He opened the record sleeve and pulled out the insert, his face softening as he realised it was filled with personal notes about each song I’d chosen, each one a small piece of our journey together. I’d written why each track mattered—how certain songs reminded me of our first night together, our shared moments, and the music we’d bonded over, filling each line with memories and meaning.
He looked up, his eyes shining with emotion. “You made me a record?” he murmured, almost in disbelief, his thumb tracing along the edge of the sleeve. “With our songs?”
I nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. “It’s a mix tape… but a bit more permanent,” I said softly, watching him absorb each detail. “I thought… whenever you listen to it, you’ll have a little piece of us, no matter where we are.”
He let out a quiet laugh, almost overwhelmed, and pulled me close, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead. “You have no idea how much this means to me,” he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. “Thank you, baby.”
I squeezed his hand, feeling my heart swell as I watched him run his fingers over the vinyl, already knowing he’d treasure it. This wasn’t just a gift—it was a piece of our story, something we could carry with us as a reminder of all the small moments that had brought us here.
Then, with a slight smirk, he handed me a small package wrapped neatly in red paper. I unwrapped it carefully, revealing a beautiful bracelet with three tiny charms—a book, a coffee cup, and a small disk. The book and coffee cup charms were sweet nods to our shared moments at the coffee shop, representing both my love of reading and our quiet mornings together. But it was the disk that caught my breath. Engraved on one side were our initials, and on the other, the date we first met at the bar—the night that had changed everything.
I traced a fingertip over the tiny engraving, feeling a rush of warmth as I looked down at the bracelet, each charm holding a piece of us. I slipped it on, feeling my heart swell, and leaned over to press a grateful kiss to his cheek, my fingers lacing with his as he gave my hand another squeeze. It was so perfectly us—simple yet filled with meaning, grounding me in the love and connection that filled the room.
After the gifts, we gathered in the living room for one of his family’s traditions—a viewing of White Christmas. His parents had set up a nest of blankets and pillows, and Hank and I settled onto the sofa, snuggled close with a blanket wrapped around us. As the movie played, we shared warm, loving glances and small touches, feeling completely at home in each other’s presence. Hank’s mum hummed along to the songs, and his dad recited lines he’d probably memorised years ago. There was something so comforting, so right, about being here, a part of this cherished tradition, experiencing the warmth and love that filled the room.
Every so often, Hank would glance down at me, his fingers tracing gentle circles on my hand, as if to remind me, without words, how much it meant to him that I was there. And in those shared, silent moments, I felt truly at home, wrapped in both his family’s love and his.
In the afternoon, Hank and I bundled up and headed out for a quiet walk through a nearby park. The air was cool, carrying the scent of damp earth and coastal pine, mingled with the faint salt of the nearby ocean. The ground was soft beneath our feet, scattered with leaves that had fallen from the evergreens lining the winding path. A gentle mist clung to the air, giving everything a quiet, peaceful atmosphere that felt almost magical. I slipped my hand into his, feeling the warmth of his fingers laced with mine as we wandered side by side, letting the calmness of the moment settle around us.
After a while, our conversation turned reflective. Hank paused, his gaze drifting out over the lake glimmering in the distance, his face thoughtful. “You know… being here with you feels so different,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand in a gentle, grounding motion. “It’s strange—almost surreal. There was a time when I felt stuck, like I’d never quite measure up. But having you here… it’s like everything makes sense in a way it didn’t before.”
A familiar warmth blossomed in my chest, and I felt the weight of his words settling over me. Standing here with him, the world muted around us, I realised this wasn’t just about him finding his place—it was about us finding something lasting in each other. My thoughts wandered to New York, to all the places and routines that had once felt so unchangeable, the city’s hustle grounding me in its own way. But here, with Hank beside me, I felt the same sense of belonging I’d known in my favourite café, our lazy Sundays, the quiet, familiar corners of our life together.
I looked up at him, my voice soft but filled with the truth of what I felt. “You’ve changed so much, Hank. You’re not that boy anymore… you’ve grown into someone I admire so deeply,” I said softly, my voice filled with all the love I felt for him. “I couldn’t be prouder of who you are now, and I’m so grateful to be part of your life.”
He looked down at me, his eyes softening, and I could see the gratitude there, the quiet appreciation for being seen and loved just as he was. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “For being here… for helping me find my way when I didn’t know how.”
We continued our walk, our steps falling into an easy rhythm, the quietness between us filled with an understanding that went beyond words. After a while, our conversation turned to the future, the idea of what we could build together. Hank paused, turning to face me, his gaze steady and filled with a gentle determination. “I know it’s just a thought, but… it’s amazing to realise that home doesn’t have to be one place. It’s more about who I’m with. And with you… I feel like I’m already there.”
I felt my heart swell at his words, a warmth blooming in my chest as I reached up to brush a hand along his cheek. “You make me feel so loved, Hank,” I whispered, my voice filled with the truth of it. “In a way I never expected. You make me feel like I belong, like I’m seen for everything I am.”
He leaned down, capturing my lips in a gentle, heartfelt kiss, a quiet promise of everything we’d shared and everything yet to come. As he pulled back, his forehead resting against mine, I could feel the silent vow between us—a promise to build a life together, wherever that might take us.
Hand in hand, we walked back toward his family home, the warmth of his presence grounding me, the sense of belonging settling into every corner of my heart. And as we approached the familiar, welcoming sight of his parents’ house, I felt a quiet confidence—a certainty that whatever the future held, we’d face it together.
We shared one last, lingering look before stepping inside, his fingers squeezing mine, a silent promise that spoke louder than words. And with that, we walked into the warmth of his family’s home, ready to face the future, side by side.
Masterlist
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feydzbaldhead · 2 days ago
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Dating Austin Butler
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shockercoco · 4 months ago
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Dangerously Yours
Benny Cross x reader
Warnings - 18+, jealousy smut, fingering, eating out, squirting, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, some swear words
Word count - 2550
a/n - here’s the winner of the poll and part 2 of The Lucky One, but it can be read by itself. I’m so glad you guys enjoyed it enough to want a part 2! tysm and I hope you enjoy :) (I will fix any errors later💀)
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“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Benny mumbles as you dodge his kiss. “What now?”
Not even five minutes ago, this man was basically teasing you about your jealousy, and now he has the audacity to be confused. You didn’t want to admit the fact that you were jealous of his ex, but it’s Benny – when he wants an answer he’ll make sure he gets it.
You’re not really angry, just slightly embarrassed, so you feel like being petty because why not?
“Nothing, I told you I was tired,” you tell him as you move away from the counter and out of his grasp.
Benny blinks a few times, confused, because he thought he had just resolved the problem that had caused your bitchy attitude.
The tea you had made before Benny interrupted you in the kitchen is now cold, so you pour the tea out and place the cup into the sink before leaving the kitchen. You make a quick stop at the front door to make sure it’s locked before making your way upstairs with Benny hot on your tail.
“I know when you’re tired and this,” he gestures to you, “is not it.”
“Well, it looks like you don’t know me that well then because I am tired,” you shoot him a glare, turning the bedroom light off as soon as you enter the room. Benny comes in behind you and immediately turns the light back on.
You make a move to walk over to your side of the bed, but Benny stops you. He grabs your arm to pull you towards him before pushing you back onto the bed. You roll your eyes making sure to keep your annoyed expression – you’re going to keep up this facade for as long as you can. 
You use your hands to crawl backwards towards the headboard, but again, Benny interrupts your plans. He grabs you at your ankles and pulls you back towards him at the bottom of the bed. When you try to move again, his grip tightens on your ankles.
“Let me go,” you say.
“I know what you’re doing,” he tells you, voice low. He places a knee in between your legs, moving a hand up your body as he moves to hover over you before placing his hands on either side of your head.
Stay strong.
“Really? Enlighten me, then,” you raise your eyebrows as you look up at him, folding your arms across your chest.
“I don’t have to tell you what you already know, sweetheart. You’re not dumb," Benny smirks down at you.
“You know, I’m in the perfect position to knee you right between your legs, right?” you question.
Benny ignores your remark as he moves to travel south. “Since you wanna play games, I don’t mind playing along, but I’m gonna have to add a couple of rules.”
“What are you doing?” you ask as you follow him with your eyes as he places his face in front of your covered pussy. You feel yourself throb as he teasing rubs a hand on your thigh.
Benny playfully tilts his head. “What? Isn’t this what you wanted?”
As Benny moves back to pull your pajama shorts and underwear down your legs, you try to keep your breathing steady.
“No,” you say firmly, but it was a lie. Even though you weren’t exactly planning to end up in this position, you knew this is how Benny liked to deal with you when you had an attitude. 
You watch as Benny moves back to pull you pajama shorts and underwear slowly down your legs. There was a small patch of arousal starting to form in your panties, which caused it to stick to your cunt as Benny pulled them away from you. The corners of his mouth twitched as he notices how wet you are already.
“You sure about that?” he asks as he looks up at you. You breathe in sharply as you feel Benny rub a thumb up and down your already sticky folds. “Because what I’m seeing right now is telling me something completely different.”
Stay strong.
You have to clench your jaw and close your eyes when Benny presses down onto your clit, his eyes watching your every move. You open your mouth to say something but immediately close it when Benny presses again, this time drawing tight circles.
“Nothing to say? You had so much to say just a second ago, what happened?”
You open your mouth to try to speak again, but you again get interrupted when Benny presses down on your clit again, stopping you from speaking on purpose.
What a prick. 
“You don’t have to answer that, baby, I already know,” he smiles. “But what you do have to do is stay quiet for me because, like you said, this isn’t what you wanted, so you obviously won’t be enjoying this.”
Benny suddenly moves his hand down and pushes a finger into you, your slick cunt making it easy to glide in. Your clit is only abandoned for a second before he uses his other hand to give it attention. 
His pace is slow and tantalizing as he thrusts his finger in and out of you. You have to bite your lip when Benny adds a second finger inside of you, curling his fingers into your walls, but when his fingers find that special spot, an involuntary moan leaves your lips.
Benny’s fingers immediately stop as his eyes leave your cunt to look up at you. “I said be quiet, remember?”
He waits for you to nod before continuing, but this time he adds his mouth to the mix. You feel his tongue glide across you before using his mouth to add suction to your clit. Your hips jerk at the feeling.  The speed of his fingers gradually increase, making the sounds escaping your soaked cunt to become louder and louder.
Your resolve is quickly diminishing, making it harder to stay quiet as Benny’s lips attack you. You feel the need to grab onto something, so you finally uncross your arms to grab onto the blanket.
Benny stops again. “No, no, no. You wanted to be petty and fold your arms like you’re tryna to prove something, so keep them folded.”
You let out a whimper, but do as he says. He sends you a look, silently telling you to be quiet, before starting up his fingers again and reattaching his lips. Since you can’t grab onto the bed, you dig your nails into folded arms. You want to scream.
As you feel yourself reaching the end of this tortuous climb, it all becomes too much. Your hips buck away from his face and you try to close your legs, causing Benny to use his unoccupied hand to grab onto one of your thighs to keep you spread. His fingers move even faster inside of your tight, wet hole, and you might actually pass out.
When you tumble over the edge and cum, your eyes roll as your hands move to grip the bed again. Fuck Benny. He uses your fingers to work you through your orgasm, constantly rubbing against that spot along your walls. Your walls are closing around Benny’s fingers, but he doesn’t care, enjoying the way your cunt spasms and flutters and the way your wetness covers his hand. Your back arches as you grind yourself against his face, your head falling back against the bed. 
As you begin to come down from your high, you notice Benny not slowing down. 
“Benny!” you squeak out as you try to move your hips away. 
You try to crawl back, but that doesn’t stop Benny, he just follows your hips as you move. Suddenly you feel yourself gush, squirting onto his face and forcing his fingers out of you. The fabric below you quickly becomes soaked with your mess. Benny quickly rubs his fingers across your clit, prolonging your squirting.
“God, please!” you plead as you continue to try to get out of his grasp. “Benny!”
Benny hums into you as he wraps his arms around your shaking thighs to keep you glued to him. Your legs close around his head as the feeling vibrates through your body. 
Benny eventually stops and allows you to push his head away from you. You quickly close your legs as Benny uses his hand to wipe your mess from his face with a laugh. Your chest heaves up and down as you try to catch your breath, your body trembling.
While you try to calm down, Benny stands up to remove his sweatpants and tank top. You catch a glance of a spot of precum on the fabric of his underwear, before he pulls that down to, letting his hard cock free. This is far from over.
You body feels limp, so you put up no resistance when Benny comes back to hover you and pulls your tank top over your head. Then, he moves to position himself between your legs, and begins to rub his cock against your sticky folds. Your body twitches and you let out a small moan at the action.
“What’s wrong, are you too sensitive?” Benny fake pouts above you, and you don’t have the energy to snap back at him. All you can do is moan in response. “That’s too bad because I haven’t had my release yet. You can take another round, though, right baby?”
He smirks as you glare up at him, but the expression is quickly wiped from your face as he pushes his cock into you. You throw your head back into the bed as your mouth opens to make a noise, but all that comes out is a silence.
Benny groans as he sets his pace inside of you – slow and deep. He grabs ahold of your thighs to prevent them from closing and to help him push inside of you. He looks down at the spot where the two of you are connected to take in the sight of your soaked opening sucking him in. A creamy ring can also be seen forming at the base of his cock 
“Fuck,” you whimper.
“I can’t believe you got jealous of Kay, baby. I mean you, of all people, should know where my heart is,” Benny taunts. “You’re my good girl, isn’t that right?”
You grab a hold of a pillow that’s been tossed to the side as you arch your back. Your eyes are closed and your thighs are shaking as Benny continues his deep thrusts inside of you. He knows exactly what you like and what you need, which is why he decided to use a slow pace to torture you.
Then there’s a rough thrust. He gently caresses one of your thighs as a punched out moan leaves you. “I asked you a question, baby.”
“Yes!” you cry out.
“Yes what?” he asks.
“I’m your good girl.”
“Yeah you are. My sweet, sweet girl.”
Oh my god.
Benny grabs a hold of your hands and lowers it to your stomach and presses down. It’s almost enough to make you come on the spot. 
And you do, causing Benny to laugh as he watches your body convulse.
“You’re the one I’m inside of, baby,” he groans, his voice husky, with his hand still on your stomach.
You clench down around him at his words, causing him to groan. He closes his eyes for a second to collect himself, before opening them back up. Benny then leans down to hover over you, wrapping his arms around your body to help him go even deeper. His head moves to drop into your neck, his hot breath fanning against you.
You think your eyes might get stuck in the back of your head.
“Your pussy is the only one I look forward to having around me,” he whispers into your ear. “Do you know that?”
“Yes, Benny!” 
You can hear the remains of your precious orgasm causing a squishing and squelching sound to leave your dripping cunt. You can feel some of your mess leaking down and onto the already damp blanket beneath. You feel Benny’s deep moan fill your ear.
“You sure because it didn’t seem that way earlier,” he tells you. 
Fuck his ex. Well, maybe you should be saying thank you at the moment.
You feel like you’re holding onto for dear life.
“I do, I do, I do,” you answer breathlessly, your eyelids heavy.
He pulls his head away from your neck to place a sloppy, wet kiss against your lips. You’re too far gone to do anything but let out a needy whimper into his mouth.
“I belong only to you, ain’t that right?” he mumbles against your lips. 
All you can say is, “Uh huh,” while giving him a nod.
Benny notices your distant expression and grabs your head into his hands, making you look him in the eyes while he continues to rock into you.
“Look at you, so gorgeous. No one compares to you. Wanna make you mine officially, wanna marry you,” he tells you. You shudder against him. “You like that idea, huh?”
You nod again.
“Use your words, sweetheart,” he smirks.
“Yes,” you manage to say.
“I know you do,” he tells you.
Eventually you feel his thrusts get needy and more sloppy, his hold on you becoming tighter.
“Wanna make you mine,” he repeats, his head back in the crook of your neck as he pounds into your overly sensitive cunt. Your body is limp, a constant string of noises leaving your lips, but you can feel drool dribbling out the side of your mouth. “Wanna make you mine.”
Benny snakes his hand between your two bodies, landing on your clit. Your body jerks at the feeling. “Are you gonna give me another one, sweetheart,” he pants as he rubs circles into you.
He fucks you deeper into the mattress, humping you with need.
“No, I can’t!” you pathetically cry out.
“Yes, you can,” he grunts, and when he gets no response, he says, “that’s my girl.”
You feel your third orgasm quickly approaching, “Please, Benny, please,” you moan.
“I got you,” he tells you.
Suddenly your walls are clamping around him, and you're gushing, your squirt coming out with every thrust. Your body arches up into him as Benny chases his own high. You're a trembling wet mess underneath him.
Then you feel Benny throbbing inside of you, your repeated clenching throwing him over the edge. When he pulls out, you shudder, causing Benny to give you a quick sorry.
He collapses with his head on your stomach, and the two of you lay in a comfortable silence. The room is filled with nothing but heavy breaths, until you decide to speak up. There’s a serious question running through your mind.
“Do you actually wanna marry me?” you ask as you look down at him, your hands in his hair.
“Yeah,” Benny nods with a genuine smile, then adds, “I kinda have to after all this, don’t you think?”
You give him a look as you find the energy to hit him with a pillow. He quickly sits up and stops you from hitting his face with a laugh.
“You know i'm just kiddin’,” he smiles.
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austinbutlerslovers · 5 months ago
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Benny Cross: The Bikeriders Fantasy
Label Mature 18+
Chapter 1 Handsome Stranger 🔗 Chapter 2 🔗 Chapter 3 🔗 Chapter 4
Summary Heading out late to help spot a friend for cash at a local bar leads you into a den of wolves. Bikers frequent the place intimating you and sexually harassing you as you try to enjoy the evening with you friend. As she gets your drinks leaving you momentarily alone you become so frightened you want to cut the night short and leave. That is until you see the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on in your life. Benny, the handsome alluring biker that takes your breath away. The night is filled with wild twists and turns as you navigate your newfound feelings for this attractive stranger in your contrasting worlds.
10k word count
♠️ Passionate Smut ♠️ Slow burn • savior/hero complex•independent female•propositioned by Benny •Benny claiming you•Benny wants to be yours •stimulating make outs• nipple play• oral fem • fingering fem• body worship•extreme orgasms •missionary• raw• creampie • after care
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📖 Proofreader @purejasmine 🫦 Smut Consultant @burnthheparaphilia 💭 Plot Consultant @austinbutlerfly
Heavily Based on The Bikeriders Movie 🏍️ Inspo: anonymous requests combined 🏍️ •Benny strong silent type •Benny a wanderer/ nomad -reader stable home •Benny submissive to reader •Benny love obsessed w reader •Benny being nurtured/cared for by reader •Recreate meeting Benny + smut •Benny as a gentle/passionate lover *more requests in upcoming chapters*
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Handsome Stranger
It is late night and you are at home, alone in the house willed to you by your parents. There is an eerie silence as you do the dishes only hearing the splash of water and the clunk of the plates submerge in the water and hit the basin.
The house is a large two story brick and mortar in the suburbs of Forest Glen, Chicago surrounded by a lush green lawn that you played on as a child. You grew up your entire life here, each room filled with memories of laughter and warmth.
It was a happy home, filled with the smell of your mother’s cooking at supper and the sounds of your father’s music playing softly in his office in the evening as he worked.
Your parents worked hard to create a nurturing environment, and their love was evident in every room of the house.
The day they’re perished was the day your world stopped. You quit your job at the local bookstore and began relying heavily on your friends for emotional support during your time of grief
The house, once a place of joy, became a silent reminder of your loss.
Your parents, both hardworking upper middle class, were dedicated to ensuring your future was secure. Setting up a trust fund and a life insurance policy.
As their only child, you inherited everything after their passing: the family house filled with memories, the cars they had carefully maintained, and your dad’s rental property in the next town over.
With your father being the former Director of Operationsfor Ford Motors and your mother being an accountant they had always prioritized your well being, wanting to provide you with a solid foundation for a successful and stable life.
No longer having their reliable guidance and without needing to work, you found solace in reading books about franchising and exploring potential business ventures, like owning several local laundromats in town, something your father had always wanted to do.
The idea of managing a business intrigued you, offering a sense of purpose and structure in your otherwise free and unoccupied life.
However, your friends, seeing you single and often too invested in your books, worried about your sanity and social well being. They frequently pulled you out to mingle, encouraging you to enjoy yourself and meet new people.
They wanted you to remember that there was more to life than just moping alone with your inherited wealth, they wanted your to find happiness and fulfillment with a husband.
Though you had dated a few men in town, they couldn’t get over the fact that you wouldn’t submit to traditional gender roles. Having your own finances allowed you to readily dismiss them at the first signs of male authority, decideding quickly you would no longer submit to any man.
The times were changing during the late ‘60s, and women were prevalently rebelling against domestication becoming in charge of their own lives. This cultural shift resonated deeply within you, sparking a fierce independence.
As you place a dish in the drying rack, your phone rings in the kitchen. You pull the receiver and press it to your ear and shoulder as you answer. It’s one of your close friends Donna in distress, you can barely hear her above the loud music playing in the background of her location.
“Hey, I’m so sorry to bother you so late. You know I wouldn’t unless I really needed to, but I’m at a bar and I’m short on cash. It’s about five bus stops from your place. Can you come spot me? Maybe have a beer with me? I can pay you back with my check on the first.”
You smile, your friends constantly ask to borrow money here and there, and you are never one to deny them. You understand how hard it is to work nonstop only to have spare change for fun. You balance the phone on your shoulder, the cord stretching across the kitchen as you place the last dish in the drying rack.
“Of course, don’t worry about it,” you say warmly. “I’ll be there in a bit. Which bar are you at?”
She gives you the name and address and you quickly jot it down on a notepad by the phone. It’s in seedier area of town but your friend has always had a knack for finding the hippest places around, so you think nothing of it deciding to join her.
“You can hold off on the beer. I think I’ll have a pop though,” you correct her. Your friend laughs.
“Not at this bar, dress up. The guys are having a meeting here tonight.” she informs you.
“Sure, alright, I’ll dress up,” you say, not entirely sure what she means by the guys meeting up but assuming it’s the usual locals.
You hang up, a small smile playing on your lips. Helping out your friends always brings you a sense of fulfillment. You pull on a lilac colored sleeveless form hugging top with white jeans and platform sandals. Nothing too fancy, but it would definitely draw the male gaze. You check your reflection, admiring your attractive features as you brush your hair, letting it cascade over your shoulders in soft waves.
You pull out a wand of mascara, carefully applying the dark, thick formula to your lashes, enhancing the depth and allure of your eyes then framing them with eyeliner. Next, you glide a rich shade of red lipstick across your full lips, the color making them look even more inviting. You then take a brush and apply a touch of rouge to your cheeks, blending it in for a natural, rosy glow.
Satisfied with your appearance, you give yourself one last approving look turning to check your form in the mirror. You would never head out this late for your safety, but because the bar is nearby and you are meeting a friend, you grab your purse and head out into the midsummer night of Ohio.
The air is warm and filled with the sounds of crickets. The sky is clear, stars twinkling above as you make your way to the bus stop. The bus is still running, and you hop on, finding a seat near the back. The city lights blur past the window as you ride through the familiar streets, your mind wandering to the night’s possibilities. You exit the bus a few stops later, the bar just a short walk away.
The brick building is lit up, neon signs flickering, casting a colorful glow on the sidewalk. You can hear the faint sound of music and conversation from inside. Tons of motorcycles are lined up out front, their chrome accents glinting under the streetlights. The air is filled with the mingled scents of cigarettes and gasoline. The atmosphere is charged, alive with the energy of the night
You take a deep breath and step through the door, scanning the loud crowded bar for your friend. The atmosphere hits you immediately this is not the usual crowd. The bar is filled with rough looking bikers, their leather jackets adorned with patches and insignias. Their faces are rugged, some sporting thick beards and tattoos snaking up their arms and necks. It feels as if the room falls silent for a moment as you walk in, all eyes turned to you, scrutinizing you with a mix of curiosity and predatory interest.
You feel their stares, some of the men openly leering.
“You need a man?” one of them calls out, his voice ripping with insinuation just above the music.
Another smirks and gives you a once over, “Looking for some fun tonight?”
Your heart begins to race, worry creeping in, it’s as if they can sense your unease, like predators sensing prey. You scan the room desperately, searching for your friend. Finally, you spot her waving at you from a corner table, looking both relieved and slightly apologetic.
You make your way through the crowd, the bikers parting reluctantly. Some of them brush against you, while others continue to watch you, their gazes and unwanted touches making your skin prickle.
You reach your friend Donna’s table and slide into the seat next to her, trying to steady your nerves. She is sitting across from a biker who is nursing a beer, his rugged appearance adding to the intimidating atmosphere.
“Hey,” she says softly, clearly aware of the tension in the bar. “Thanks for coming. I’m really sorry about this. I didn’t realize you were gonna dress up this nice…that’s gonna make things a bit more… interesting for you tonight.” She reveals with a grin.
“It’s okay,” you reply, forcing a smile. “Let’s just get you sorted and I’ll head out of here.”
“You should stay a while. These guys are something else,” Donna says as you hand her the money she needs. “You’re the best,” she adds, smiling as she counts it but you can’t help but feel the weight of the bikers’ stares.
This night has turned into something far different than what you expected, and you can’t shake the feeling of being a rabbit in a den of wolves.
The biker across from Donna leans forward, a smirk playing on his lips. “Name’s Cockroach,” he introduces himself, his voice cheerful and welcoming.
You give him a wary eye, trying to gauge his intentions. “Nice to meet you,” you manage, your voice steady despite the unease swirling inside of you.
Cockroach’s eyes flicker with amusement as he looks you over, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Don’t worry, we don’t bite… much,” he says with a chuckle, his gaze never leaving yours.
Two more bikers approach. One is wearing only a vest, his bare chest exposed, while the wears a heavily stained t-shirt. They both look drunk, their eyes bloodshot and their steps unsteady. They reek of stale beer and cigarettes, clinging to each other as they sway slightly, propping each other up.
“Hey, you-as wants-ta go home with me?” The one in the vest slurs to you, his words barely coherent.
“What about me you wanna live with me? The other chimes in with a grin before taking another swig of his beer. He leans in too close, the overpowering stench of alcohol heavy on his breath
You slightly recoil at their statements, trying to keep your composure.
“No thank you, I’ve got a date. I’ve gotta be home by midnight,” you quickly lie, feeling extremely uneasy and not wanting to engage with either of them.
Cockroach lets out a hearty laugh, the sound rough and loud. “You hear that, boys? Cinderella’s got a date and she’s gotta be home by midnight or else she’ll turn into a pumpkin!” The group erupts into laughter, the sound echoing through the bar.
Cockroach gets up and slaps the shoulders of the two bikers and they wrap their arms around each other as they head to the bar. You watch as they stumble away, their laughter still ringing in your ears.
You look around and begin to notice several of the bikers gathering together, casting glances your way and sharing whispers with one another. Already on edge, you lean towards Donna to warn her. “Look at them, it’s like they’re planning something over there.” You say trying to keep your voice steady but your panic is evident.
She shrugs it off. “Don’t worry about them,” she says trying to reassure you.
“I gotta go,” you say abruptly, the unease becoming too much.
Donna laughs. “Just sit tight. I’ll go get you a drink,” she says and stands up.
You watch her walk away, completely at ease among the bikers, she moves with a casual confidence, even giving a friendly pat on the back to one of the bikers as she passes by. It’s clear she feels comfortable in this environment, blending seamlessly with the rough crowd.
Feeling even more exposed now that you’re alone, the atmosphere feels thicker, the air heavy with the scent of beer, smoke, and something else you can’t quite place.
You glance around nervously, noticing the bikers’ eyes still lingering on you, their whispers becoming more apparent.
You can see them watching you now, their gazes more intense and predatory, their eyes following your every move, making your skin prickle with unease.
You quickly stand, clutching your purse, scanning the bar for your friend to head out to leave, and that’s when you see him the most physically stunning man you ever laid eyes on.
He is at the pool table, standing stoically with his hands resting on the edge. His broad shoulders and muscular frame are hard to miss, accentuated by a sleeveless black shirt. His presence commands the room, and despite the rough crowd around him, he stands out with an air of calm authority.
For a moment, everything else fades away. Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of excitement and nervousness flooding your senses. You watch him, mesmerized by his effortless confidence and the magnetism.
He gazes down, seemingly lost in thought, and when he looks up, you get a full view of his handsome face in every detail. His piercing blue eyes that look like they could see right through you, a head of thick tousled sandy brown hair, a rugged goatee surrounding his full enticing lips, and a strong, chiseled jaw . You feel a thrill shoot right through you, his looks take your breath away.
His eyes slowly lock onto yours, and it’s as if he can sense every bit of your attraction for him. His gaze intensifies, showing a clear desire for you in return. He straightens up, revealing his towering height and makes his way over to you with determination in his stride.
Your heart pounds in your chest, and you feel a rush of excitement and nervousness as you sit back down, almost in a daze, watching the confident way he approaches your table.
He turns the chair across from you around backwards and slowly sits revealing every detail of his chiseled muscular arms as he casually rests them on the edge.
“I’m Benny,” he says, his voice soft and rich like honey.
Your voice comes out weaker than you intend as you respond, “hello…”
He stares at you intensely and though you try to meet his gaze, your eyes keep wandering down to his chiseled muscular arms and back up to the handsome features of his face.
He studies every detail of you in return his blue eyes slowly trailing over your body. His eyes tracing the line of your neck, lingering on the delicate skin there, before moving to your full, red lips. He continues up to your eyes, his stare deep and inviting, never breaking contact in a testament to his desire for you.
The intensity of his gaze makes your skin begin to tingle and your heart race. You’ve never been stared at in such a way. Despite your nervousness, you find that you like his unwavering attention, it makes you feel desired and alive in a way you’ve never felt before.
Summoning all of your courage, you finally regain the ability to speak.
“What are we doing here, just shooting the breeze?” you ask, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. Your voice wavering, betraying the nervous excitement inside of you.
Benny’s smile widens, a beautiful smile that captivates you entirely. “I guess so,” he answers, his eyes never leaving yours.
When Benny doesn’t continue the conversation, a thick silence settles between you two. His eyes gaze into yours with an unspoken longing that makes your heart race and the intensity of the moment becomes overwhelming.
“Benny… I’ve gotta go home,” you relent, watching as his demeanor changes.
“Oh…okay” Benny responds the sadness flickering in his beautiful eyes, his deep voice tinged with disappointment.
His gaze lingers a moment longer before he lifts his hands in a gesture of surrender.
“Alright,” he says, a knowing smile on his lips, his voice still that soft, intoxicating murmur. “You gotta go,” he echos.
When he rises from the chair and walks away, your heart is pounding as your eyes follow his every move. You know you won’t forget your encounter with Benny anytime soon.
Just as Benny leaves, another biker sits down in front of you, taking his place. His presence is commanding and intense, exuding seniority.
His appearance is cleaner than the others; his black hair is slicked back neatly, and his stern face exudes authority. He wears a neat black button up tee with white etching along the seams, giving him a polished yet intimidating look. His sharp eyes, slightly narrowed, survey you with a calculating gaze.
“I’m already spoken for,” you announce,knowing in your heart you are already drawn to Benny.
The biker gives you a knowing look. “Don’t worry,” he says with casual confidence.
“Don’t worry about what?” you shoot back, wanting to deter any of his advances.
“I’m Johnny, the president of this club,” he says beaming with pride before continuing. “The guys, they just want t’have some fun. But I’m not gonna let nothing happen to ya,” he says with a twinkle of mischief in his eye.
“What’s was going to happen to me?” you ask, your voice tinged with concern.
Johnny leans back, his eyes steady on yours. “Nothin’,” he reassures you but his eyes shift.
As he studies your demeanor you realize it must be very late and excuse yourself.
“It was nice to meet you, Johnny, but I’ve really gotta go,” you say politely , and look around the bar for Donna to say your goodbyes. When you are unable to find her a slight panic sets in, and Johnny watches as you hurriedly leave the table the rise in your nerves evident.
Leaving is more difficult than coming in. More bikers have come to the bar, making you have to weave through the crowd. You are groped several times, slapping a hand or two away on your way out as they yell sexually suggestive advances.
“Hey, sweetheart, where you going in such a hurry?” one calls out, his eyes raking over you.
“Don’t be shy, honey, come sit on my lap,” another one jeers, reaching out to grab your wrist.
“Why leave so soon? The night’s just getting started,” a third biker says, his hand grazing your lower back.
“Let me show you a real good time,” one whispers in your ear, making your skin crawl.
You push through the throng of men, your heart pounding and your breath coming in short, panicked bursts. As you finally make it to the door, the catcalls and whistles follow you out into the night.
You don’t stop moving until you are a safe distance across the street at the bus stop. You look down at your white pants, now covered in their dirty black handprints,
“Disgusting!” you scoff, trying in vain to wipe the grit of their handprints off.
The bus is taking longer than usual, and you feel an uneasiness settle in. The street lamps and the distant sounds from the bar offer some comfort, but you can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right.
That’s when you see Benny leaving the bar, his calm commanding presence exuding an aura of confidence. He focuses on lighting his cigarette as he walks, moving with a fluid grace that makes you stall, looking at him in admiration.
His leather biker jacket accentuates his strong shoulders, and his jeans highlight his confident stride. As he lights the cigarette, smoke billows from his mouth. He walks to his bike a short distance in front of you, seemingly unaware of your presence.
He swings his leg over his bike and kick starts it, taking a pull of his cigarette before looking over his shoulder at you, revealing that he knew you were there the entire time. You smile, but it quickly fades as your eyes are drawn the group of loud bikers leaving the bar. They immediately see you standing alone at the bus stop.
That’s when it hits you, and fear rushes in. The bus isn’t coming anymore; it’s too late.
“Oh no,” you mutter, walking quickly down the pavement. But they bound toward you, surrounding you almost instantly, pressing you around you and jeering as you walk.
“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” one of them sneers, his breath reeking of alcohol.
“Come on, darling, don’t be shy,” another says, his hand reaching out to touch your hair.
You slap his hand away, your heart racing with fear. “Alright alright !” you respond to knock their lewd advances, but your voice wavers, betraying your terror.
The night air feels suffocating with their laughter echoing in your ears.
Just as your situation seems dire, you catch a glimpse of Benny on his bike, watching the scene unfold, the cigarette hanging from his lips.
His eyes lock onto yours, and he gestures for you to come to him. Summoning all your courage, you push through the men, ignoring their jeers and grabs, and rush towards Benny. You climb onto the back of his motorcycle and hug onto him tightly as if your life depends on it.
Benny flicks his cigarette away, the ember glowing briefly before fading into the night. The bikers begin hollering and shouting.
“Looks like Benny’s got himself a prize!” one yells, his voice ripping above the others.
“Yeah Benny! Take her! Take her!” another yells as they begin to holler and cheer. The rest of the bikers and their ladies spill out of the closing bar and into the street, joining in, their voices rising in the night air with whistling and hollering.
Benny’s demeanor remains calm and composed, but you can feel the tension in his muscles as he revs the engine. The powerful roar of the motorcycle drowns out the bikers’ voices, but you can still hear their laughter and shouts in the background. Benny’s hand reaches back to gently squeeze your arm, reassuring you.
“Hold on tight,” he says, his voice steady and firm.
You cling to him even tighter, pressing your face against his back, the leather of his jacket cool against your cheek.
Benny kicks the bike into gear and peels out onto the street, leaving the jeering crowd behind.
You’ve never been on a bike before and find it exhilarating as the wind rushes past you as the motorcycle accelerates, making the street lights blur into streaks of light.
With each passing second, the distance between you and the bar grows, the noise of the bikers fading into the night. Benny maneuvers the bike with skill and precision, navigating the streets effortlessly. You begin to relax slightly, the fear slowly ebbing away, replaced by a sense of safety and gratitude.
After a few minutes, Benny slows down and turns onto a quieter street. He eventually stops the bike in front of another bar, this one open later into the night. The neon sign casts a warm glow on the pavement, inviting you inside. He turns off the engine and looks back at you, his intense eyes filled with concern.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice softer now.
You nod, “Yes, thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”
Benny helps you off the bike and stands by your side, his presence comforting.
“Do you want a drink?” he asks, his voice calm and reassuring.
You nod again, feeling a wave of relief. “Yes, that would be nice.”
He leads you into the bar, the dim lighting and the low hum of conversation providing a stark contrast to the dark, tense night you’ve just escaped.
The air is filled with the scent of beer and the soft strains of blues music playing on the jukebox. You follow Benny to a booth in a quieter corner, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude for your unexpected savior.
As you sit down, Benny signals the bartender for a couple of drinks. He sits across from you, his gaze steady and reassuring. “You’re safe here,” he says, his voice calm. “Just take a moment to breathe.”
You nod, taking a deep breath and trying to steady your nerves. The warmth and relative quiet of the bar help you start to relax, the events of the night slowly fading into the background as you focus on the present, feeling grateful for Benny’s timely intervention.
The bartender brings over two cold beers, placing them on the table. Benny takes a sip, then looks at you with a smoldering gaze.
“Those guys back there, they’re my crew,” he says casually. “and you’re the most beautiful woman they’ve ever laid eyes on.” He admits.
You blush, feeling both flattered and a bit wary. “Well, they have an interesting way of showing it,” you reply, your voice tinged with sarcasm.
Benny chuckles softly. “Yeah, they’re rough around the edges, but they know not to mess with someone I’m looking out for.”
You take a sip of your beer, feeling the cold liquid soothe your nerves. “Thanks for that. I was really scared back there.”
Benny’s expression softens. “You don’t have to thank me.“
You both sit in silence for moment until you come up with a question you’ve been curious about.
“What’s it like being a biker?” You ask.
Benny leans back, considering your question. “It’s freedom,” he says, his voice thoughtful. “No schedules, no bosses. Just the open road and my bike. I go where I want, when I want. There’s nothing like it.”
“Where do you live?” you ask.
Benny smiles, a hint of mystery in his eyes. “Wherever the road takes me,” he replies. “I’ve got places I crash, friends’ houses, motels, sometimes just under the stars. Home is the ride.”
“What about you?” he asks, looking you over with curiosity in his eyes.
“I’m from Forest Glen,” you admit with a bit of hesitation.
“Fancy,” he says, lifting his eyebrows with a grin.
The heat rises to your face as your cheeks blush, feeling self conscious from his correct assumption.
“Well, your life sounds very entertaining, Benny,” you admit, taking in his rugged charm, admiring his sense of freedom and independence.
Benny’s eyes soften as he looks at you. “It can be. But it’s not for everyone. It’s rough and unpredictable. You have to be ready for anything.”
You nod, taking another sip of your beer. The differences between your structured life and his free spirited existence fascinates to you, drawing you even deeper into irresistible allure.
You share two more beers together, talking about your vastly contrasting interests. You, fascinated by his wild, unpredictable life, while he listens intently as you describe the comforts of home, your love for quiet evenings with a good book and the security of a routine. Hours go by, the conversation flowing easily between you two, until you glance at the clock above the bar seeing its 4am.
“Oh wow, Benny, we’ve been out all night. I didn’t even notice the time until now.”
He glances at you with a hint of reluctance, “You gotta go?” he asks not wanting the night to end.
You nod reluctantly. “Yeah, it’s really late Benny.”
“Let’s get you home, then,” he says, standing up and signaling the bartender. He pays for the drinks, and you follow him out of the bar, feeling a mix of contentment and excitement.
Outside, the night air is cool and refreshing, as Benny leads you to his bike. He stands next to it for a moment, adjusting his gloves and giving the machine a once over. With a swift, practiced motion, he swings his leg over the seat and settles in.
He grips the kick starter firmly, and gives it a powerful thrust. The engine roars to life, the sound reverberating through the quiet night. Satisfied, he looks over to you and extends his hand, helping you climb onto the back. “Hold on to me,” he says gently.
This time, as you wrap your arms around him you let your hands wander down, marveling at the strength and solidity of his body as you hold his waist. As the engine roars to life you imagine that he’s yours and that this connection between you is something real and lasting.
You press close against his back, feeling the warmth and firmness of him. The vibrations from the engine travel through you, heightening your senses. Soon you’re off, the streets blurring past as Benny navigates the quiet roads to your home. The city lights twinkle above, as the wind rushes past you, carrying a newfound sense of excitement for Benny.
The ride is exhilarating, the powerful machine beneath you and the feeling of Benny’s solid form in front of you providing comfort. The journey is smooth, and you feel safe, trusting Benny completely as he takes you home.
Eventually, he slows down, pulling up in front of your house. He cuts the engine, and the sudden silence is almost startling. You reluctantly let go, dismounting from the bike.
“Thank you, Benny. For everything,” you say, looking to him.
He smiles, his eyes warm and genuine.
You linger for a moment, neither of you wanting the night to end. Finally, you turn to head inside, but before you go, you look back at him one last time.
“Maybe we can do this again sometime?” you suggest, feeling a bit bold.
“I’d like that,” he replies, his smile widening.
With that, you head inside, a sense of warmth and excitement building within you. Once in doors you watch from the window as Benny starts his bike and rides off into the night, the sound of the engine fading into the distance. As you lock the front door you realize that tonight was the beginning of something new and unexpected in your life.
Do You Want Me?
Just as you hang your purse on the entry rack you hear the familiar sound of Bennys bike retuning. The loud rumbling suddenly cutting off.
You pull back the curtain of the front door window and notice he’s parked himself across the street. Confused you watch him pull off his riding gloves and dismount from his bike, taking a carton of cigarettes out with his lighter sparking one up, sitting calmly against his bike to smoke it.
You assume he’s waiting for someone and head upstairs. Once in your bedroom you click on the lamp and begin to unwind from the night. You take off your platform sandals one at a time, placing them in the shoe rack, feeling relief as your feet touch the cool floor.
You remove your crop top, letting it fall to the floor, then shimmy out of your white jeans, revealing your panties and bra. With a quick motion, you slip off your bra and step out of your panties, placing all the items in the hamper.
You turn on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up, then step inside. The hot water cascades over your body, washing away the stress and grime of the evening. You let the water soothe your muscles, closing your eyes and taking a few deep breaths.
After a moment, you step out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a soft towel. You brush your teeth, the minty freshness a stark contrast to the taste of beer lingering from the bar.
Feeling refreshed, you slip into a comfortable nightgown and lie down in your soft bed. You can’t help but replay the night’s events in your mind, especially the moments with Benny. His charm and protective nature leaving a lasting impression on you.
Suddenly you sit up, curiosity getting the better of you and walk over to your bedroom window pulling the curtain aside, half-expecting to see an empty street. To your surprise, Benny is still there, leaning casually against his bike, his gaze fixed on your house.
“He’s still here?” you whisper to yourself, a mix of surprise and confusion flooding your thoughts. “What is he waiting for?”
You watch him for a moment, feeling a mix of curiosity and excitement. His presence outside your home feels both unexpected and oddly reassuring. You look at the clock on your dresser seeing it’s 5: 50 am and wonder why he hasn’t left yet and what he could be thinking.
Unable to resist, you throw on a robe and quietly make your way downstairs. The cool night air greets you as you open the front door and step outside. Benny looks up, his eyes locking onto yours, and a small, knowing smile spreads across his lips.
“Benny, what are you still doing here, are you guarding my house all night?” You tease and he chuckles before pulling a drag from his cigarette.
“I guess so,” he says, smiling as he exhales. His smile is so beautiful that it makes your heart skip a beat.
“Do… you have some place your supposed to be?” you ask, curiosity mingling with the undeniable attraction you feel toward him.
“Not till later,” he responds casually, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes you smile.
The first light of dawn begins to creep over the horizon, casting a soft glow over the street.
“The sun’s coming up, Benny,” you observe and he glances over, squinting as he takes in the view of the rising sun.
“How about I make you breakfast?” you suggest with a grin.
Benny looks back at you, his eyes meeting yours as his smile widens. “I’d like that,” he says.
He stands and flicks his cigarette as he approaches your house, and you watch his confident stride as he stretches his arms relieving his sore muscles from sitting on his bike for so long.
He stops just in front of you, his presence commanding yet comforting. He looks you in the eyes, a hint of something playful in his gaze.
“You want to go to a meeting with me today?” he asks.
Surprised, you blink. “A meeting? What kind of meeting?”
“It’s just something with my club,” he says, his tone casual but inviting. “Thought you might like to see what it’s all about.”
You feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of experiencing his biker lifestyle firsthand. Your earlier interest in him only intensifies. “I’d like that, Benny,” you say with a grin,
“Good,” he says, a genuine smile spreading across his face.
You invite Benny inside just as the sun starts filling your kitchen with early morning light. Benny looks around your place, impressed, his fingers trailing along the countertop in the kitchen, taking in the affluent atmosphere.
“You’ve got a great setup here,” he remarks, his eyes wandering over the well kept place.
“Thanks,” you say, grinning as you gather the items to make him breakfast. “It’s been a lot of work to keep it this way, but it’s worth it,” you admit.
“Well, you’re doing a great job,” he murmurs, his eyes wandering over the curves of your body, knowing you’re too focused on your tasks to notice his provocative gaze.
You smile from his remark as you start your routine, putting on a kettle of water for tea and beginning to make scrambled eggs.
You crack two more for Benny and retrieve the bacon from the fridge setting it in the second skillet, the sizzle filling the kitchen with a the delicious aroma. Grabbing a loaf of bread, you pop a few slices into the toaster to make him a full meal.
As you move around the kitchen, Benny rests back against a counter, admiring you work. His presence is both comforting and intriguing. You can feel his eyes following your every movement, adding a layer of warmth to the room.
The eggs fluff up nicely in the pan, as the smell of bacon wafts through the air
You look back at him and see he has a grin on his face clearly enjoying being made a hot meal.
“Go in the dining room Benny and I’ll bring your plate when it’s ready,” you say sweetly and he shyly smiles happy to do as he’s told.
The kettle whistles, and you pour the hot water into a set of cups, letting the tea bags steep. The toast pops up, and you butter the slices, placing them on a plate alongside the bacon and eggs. You bring everything to the table, and set his plate down in in front of him arranging everything with care.
He looks up at you with admiration in his eyes, and you respond with a warm smile. His gaze then shifts to the food you’ve prepared, his expression softens with deep gratitude as he takes in the sight of the meal you made for him.
You step away momentarily to bring the tea cups, carefully placing one beside him and then setting yours down next to your plate.
He waits for you to sit across from him and, only after you take your first bite of food, does he begin eating. His fork scrapes the plate several times as he hungrily eats.
“This is one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time,” he compliments, and you smile, watching him continue to enjoy each bite.
You begin to study him closely noticing he must be starving and tired. His scent is heavily tinged with cigarettes, his hands are calloused, his fingernails are covered in grit and his sandy brown hair is heavy with oil.
Noticing his rugged appearance, you suddenly realize that Benny doesn’t have a place to call home, a place to be cared for and comforted and your heartstrings tug for him.
“Benny “ you ask softly watching him eat his last bites of foods. “Would you like to shower here? Maybe have a rest on the sofa before we go to this meeting of yours ?” you offer gently.
Benny looks up from his empty plate, a mix of gratitude and surprise in his eyes. “That would be great actually,” he admits, his voice softening.
You smile warmly, feeling a sense of satisfaction being able to care for him.
You clear the table and he takes his jacket off draping it over his chair, revealing the definition of his strong, muscular arms in his sleeveless shirt.
Seeing him getting comfortable sets you at ease, and you smile as you make your way over to him. “Will you follow me upstairs so I can show you to the shower, Benny?” you ask, and he slowly grins, his face lighting up in the way that sends a warmth through you.
“Yea I’ll follow you” he says his voice carrying a mix of gratitude and anticipation.
He follows you up the stairs, his heavy footsteps behind yours, and you lead him down the hallway, your own footsteps echoing softly in the quiet house.
Stopping at the linen closet, you pull out a fresh set of towels and hand them to him. He takes a moment, bringing the soft fabric to his face and inhaling the scent, appreciating the clean, comforting smell of fresh laundry.
You pull a toothbrush and a bar of soap from the closet, placing them on top of the towels as he lowers them slightly.
“The bathroom is just on the left,” you say, pointing the way. “I’ll be in my room tidying up and getting ready. If you need anything, just knock.”
“Thank you,” he says, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that makes your heart flutter. “I really appreciate this.”
You smile, touched by his appreciation. “It’s no problem at all, you’re my guest.”
He glances down, then back up at you, his eyes softening. “You really didn’t have to any of this.”
“I wanted to Benny” you reply softly.
You give him a reassuring smile, and he returns it with a grateful look before heading to the bathroom and closing the door behind him.
You head to your bedroom and close the door. Hearing the shower start you feel a sense of contentment wash over you, knowing you’re able to care for him.
You tidy up your room and begin to get dressed, choosing a loose fitting shirt and denim jeans, assuming you’re going to be with the same rowdy group of bikers he was with yesterday. Before you put your socks and shoes on there is a knock at your door.
You open it to find Benny standing in the hallway, half naked, wearing only the towel. His well defined physique catches you off guard, and your breath hitches at the sight of his muscular body.
His defined abs glisten, and his broad chest rises and falls with each breath, his hand gripping the towel beneath the deep v-line of his waist. He looks refreshed and more relaxed. His hair, now clean and slightly damp, falls in soft waves around his face that radiates with a newfound vitality. You momentarily lose your voice, captivated by how attractive he looks.
“What would you like me to do with my clothing?” he asks gently, helping you refocus.
“Y-you can bring them to me, Benny,” you say,still in shock at the perfection of his body. He collects his clothing and brings the pile to you. Quickly grabbing a hamper, you place his clothing inside.
“Let’s go down and get these washed for you,” you announce, trying to focus on the task at hand.
“Thank you,” he says smiling again, and as you walk downstairs, he follows you. Still in the towel, holding it at his waist. As you reach the base of the stairs, you can’t help but look back and notice how the towel clings to his muscular form, each step emphasizing every contour of his physique.
You sigh dreamily and gesture him toward the living room. “Why don’t you relax on the sofa while I head to the laundry room,” you offer.
Benny nods, and you watch as he enters the living room looking the place over. He sits down on the sofa, adjusting his towel before resting back, his muscular arms outstretched against the plush cushions, enjoying the comfort.
“Do you need anything?” you ask kindly, wanting to ensure he’s comfortable.
“No, this is perfect,” he says, giving you a grateful smile.
You nod and head to the laundry room, feeling a sense of satisfaction being able to help him. As you start the washer, you can’t help but think about how different your lives are and yet how connected you feel to him in this moment.
As you pour the detegent in, the morning sun filters through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room and it dawns on you, you’re falling deeply for Benny.
When you head back to the living room, you find him studying a framed picture of your family on the mantle. “These your folks?” he asks.
“Yes,” you answer slowly.
“Where do they live?” he asks.
“They passed away Benny,” you say, your voice somber. His face falls in shock, realizing his mistake.
“I-I’m so sorry,” he stammers.
“It’s alright. It’s been some time, but I do miss them terribly,” you admit, your voice softer.
His eyes gloss over with sadness for you. “I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories,” he says gently.
“Benny it’s fine, I’ll be alright .” you say with a reassuring smile.
He looks around at the living room, taking in his surroundings.
“You live by yourself in this big house?” he asks, his eyes scanning the place, noting the quietness.
You nod. “Yes, it’s just me now. It’s a lot of space for one person, but it’s home,” you say, offering a small smile.
He takes a deep breath, his gaze returning to yours, filled with a mix of admiration and concern. “It must get lonely sometimes,” he says softly.
“It does,” you admit, and then you fall silent, lost in thought realizing that you’ve willingly let Benny—a man you just met tonight— into your home and now he’s standing in your living room, nearly naked, wrapped in a towel.
The reality of the situation hits you hard and you are surprised by your own actions, you would never willingly allow a handsome stranger into your home, let alone someone you barely know, but with Benny somehow its different.
His presence reassures you. The way he looks at you with genuine care and concern, the kindness in his eyes, his gentle yet commanding demeanor, all make you feel safe with him in a way you have never felt before.
He captivates you with his powerful presence, a mix of beauty and raw strength exuding a sense of protection and confidence that is impossible to ignore. As you watch him, standing nearly naked in your living room, you can’t help but feel a surge of admiration and desire.
You look at his perfect body again, your gaze lingering on his broad, chiseled chest, his heavily defined muscular arms, and finally settling on his ridged abs, each one perfectly sculpted, narrowing down to his sculpted waist. His entire body exudes strength. The sight of him standing in your living room takes your breath away.
The truth of your motives comes to the surface as your eyes linger on him longer than you intended and you feel a surge warmth spread through you, a magnetic pull that makes it hard to look away anymore . Feeling a mixture of desire and curiosity that you’ve never felt before you begin to realize you invited him in to do more than just to care for him.
Benny catches your lingering stare, his eyes meeting yours with a knowing look. A small smile plays at the corners of his lips, and you can see the spark of desire in his eyes as he takes a step closing the distance between you.
“What do we do while we wait for the laundry?” he asks, his voice low and sultry. Your heart flutters, finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than the desire building between the two of you.
“I-I hadn’t thought about that,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly.
As he steps closer you instinctively move back, bumping into the bookshelf behind you. The sudden movement causes a book to tumble off the shelf and hit the floor with a soft thud.
He kneels down to pick it up, and you catch a glimpse of his cock, sending a thrill straight through you. It is long and thick, the biggest you’ve ever seen, stretching impressively down his thigh. Utterly impressed you quickly cover your mouth.
He doesn’t take notice and reads the title of the book he’s picked up.
“Business Franchising,” he says, grinning as he stands. “Is this yours ?” He asks and you slowly nod, slightly trembling unable to form words from what you just witnessed.
“You’re smart .” He confirms looking into your eyes with a satisfied grin.
His muscular arm extends to push the fallen book back into the slot next to your head and his closeness is intoxicating. He sees your hesitation, your head lowered as you avoid looking at him in such close proximity.
He doesn’t back down, instead, he gently tilts your chin up with his fingers, guiding your eyes to meet his. His gaze is intense and unwavering, filled with an unspoken understanding and desire. As you stare into his eyes, he searches deeply into yours, making it impossible to look away.
“I never thanked you properly,” he says softly, his eyes darkening with a mix of gratitude and longing.
The heat radiating from his body and the scent of him, fresh from the shower, fills your senses. He’s intoxicating to you, and the longer you stare into his beautiful, mesmerizing blue eyes, the more your heart races in anticipation.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he promises, his voice deep and filled with emotion. The intensity of his gaze is magnetic, drawing you in completely and his breath mingles with yours, warm and inviting as his lips move closer.
The world around you falls away as his full lips slowly brush against yours and you feel the spark ignite between you, a deep and passionate connection that sends waves of heat through your body. He kisses you slowly and deliberately savoring every moment of his lips on yours with an unspoken desire.
His hand gently cups your jaw and his fingers trace the contours of your face as you feel the warmth of his palm against your skin.
His other large hand grasps your waist pulling you flush against him making you feel as if your heart will explode from the overwhelming mix of emotions.
Bennys lips move against yours slowly devouring you as you lose yourself in the sensation, feeling an incredible sense of connection to him. His kiss is filled with a longing and desire that promises so much more.
Feeling a firmness press against your thigh, you break the kiss, peering down to see his substantial erection hard against you. Looking back into his eyes you see his intent.
“Benny,” you shakily whisper, your voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. “We should take it slow,” you manage to say, but as the words leave your mouth, he stares at your lips with a fierce longing before looking back into your eyes. His breaths are heavy and uneven, his desire for you is intense, as if he’s fighting to hold himself back but wanting to give you more.
You slowly place your hand on his chest, trying to calm him, but his eyes search yours, filled with lust his need is evident and the intensity of the moment is fierce as you fight your reservations.
Quickly, you turn from his grasp and walk to the kitchen, creating a distance between you to force the thought of stripping the towel off of him from your mind. You want to date Benny properly, not get swept away in a moment of passion.
“I want you,” Benny admits following you closely.
“You make me feel differently than anyone ever has,” he reveals, not even giving you a moment to cool down.
“When I’m with you, it’s like everything else fades away and I’ve never felt this way before.” He confesses.
Your mind is overwhelmed with desire for him as you listen to his words, your eyes looking around the kitchen, frantically searching for anything you can do to preoccupy yourself.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says closer, his voice filled with emotion. “I’ve never wanted anyone so much.”
You reach the sink and grip the edge, feeling Benny’s presence behind you, and he presses himself against you, his strong arms encircling you, trapping you between him and the counter. The firmness of his hard body pushing against yours makes a gasp of pleasure escape your lips, and he gently turns you around to face him, his eyes searching yours.
His eyes fall to your lips, then lift back to meet your gaze. “I need you,” he confesses, his voice soft and genuine, filled with a depth of longing and desire that takes your breath away.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you process his words. The desperation in his eyes, the way he stands so close, everything about him in this moment is charged with a raw sexual energy and without a second thought, you reach up and kiss him, your lips meeting his in a rush of heat and need.
His body responds immediately, his large hands gripping around your waist, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. His lips meld with yours full of passion as all the pent up tension between you two finally falls away.
“I’ve wanted this,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice a mix of gratitude and desire. “Since I first… laid eyes on you.” He admits between kisses.
You nod, breathless, your hands exploring his muscular chest.
“..Yes….Benny ” you pant, feeling his strong arms envelop you knowing that this moment, this connection, is something you both desperately need.
He kisses you deeply, tilting his head and roughly capturing your mouth, his strong hands wandering down your back making you feel cherished in his arms.
Each caress and press of his lips deepens your connection flooding you with emotions you’ve never felt before.
His towel falls away, and you feel his hard length press against you making you softly moan.
He pulls his lips from yours and kisses down your neck, holding you firmly yet tenderly as you tilt your head back, giving him better access to your throat.
“How do you want me?” he whispers against your skin, his voice thick with desire as he continues his trail of soft kisses. Your heart pounds with longing and nervous anticipation.
“..Benny,” you say, breathing heavily, feeling the hardness of his full erection pressing against you.
“W-we should wait,” you gasp.
He leans back to look at you, his eyes filled with a serious depth of devotion. “I want you,” he says with unwavering conviction, “and I want to be yours.”
The sincerity in his eyes melts away your reservations. “I want you too, Benny,” you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation.
His hands travel up tenderly pushing under your top and pulling it over your head before he discards it to the floor.
“You’re beautiful,” he smiles, his eyes lingering on the sight of you undressed for the first time. His large hands cup your full breasts with reverence, sending waves of pleasure through your body.
“I can’t believe I get to touch you like this,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe.
His lips brush over your sensitive skin, kissing your soft nipples making you ache with desire. His tongue slips out, gently flicking and swirling around the buds until they are hard and sensitive.
Then, his mouth descends, lavishing attention on them and you gasp as he alternates between each breast, sucking and kissing gently, his hand continuing to caress and knead the other. His rough touch contrasting perfectly with the softness of his mouth.
When he pulls back, his eyes lock onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. His hands holding your waist as he slowly lowers down on his knees in front of you, making your breath hitch.
His hands slide up your thighs unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them all the way down, the cool air contrasting sharply with the heat of your skin
His lips trail soft tantalizing kisses up your thigh.
“I want to taste you,” he murmurs against your skin stopping shy of your panties. He slowly pushes his hand between your legs feeling you already soaked through for him and hums in satisfaction.
“Benny.. I haven’t done anything like this before …” you pant growing more overwhelmed by the second knowing he’s going to perform oral on you.
“I’ll go slow“ he promises and delicately slides your panties off, trailing kisses down your navel to your wet heat.
“I want to please every part of you,” he vows, his voice deep and filled with satisfaction as his hands grip your hips, holding you steady. “I want to make you feel things you’ve never felt before,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin as his mouth descends.
The first touch of his wet tongue against your clit sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body as you gasp.
“Oh god, Benny!” you cry out, the softness of his mouth latching sending jolts of pleasure directly to your core. His warm slick tongue begins to lick expertly, exploring every inch of your folds as his facial hair grazes against your thighs making you clench. You look down at him, your breaths hitching as you watch him devour you with an intensity that leaves you trembling.
“F-feels so good Benny” you whisper, your voice shaking with pleasure.
His tongue explores deeper into your folds, and you moan desperately, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The new experience is overwhelming, the sensation heightening to a level you’ve never known.
His tongue flicks circles of precision on every stroke sending waves of pleasure through your body unraveling you under his skilled touch.
He laps at your clit, alternating between gentle licks and firm flicks, driving you insane with lust. His eyes, dark with hunger, suddenly lock onto yours, and the sight of him dedicated to giving you such pleasure makes you tremble, becoming completely undone.
His hands grip your hips tighter, anchoring you in place as his tongue delves deeper, tasting you, exploring your inner walls. You can feel the vibrations of his satisfied hums against your most intimate parts as his facial hair brushes roughly against you. The intensity of the moment takes your breath away, and you begin moaning uncontrollably, surrendering completely to the ecstasy he’s giving you.
He brings his hand from your hip, slipping one long, thick finger inside of you. Feeling the roughness of his fingertip against your soft sensitive inner walls makes you clench as an intense moan to escape your lips.
Chills cover the expanse of your body as his tongue and lips, swirl and flick against your clit with precise timing as his finger slips in and out of your sensitive inner walls.
“Benny…please…Benny“ you moan incoherently losing control of your mind, the arousal completely taking over as you lose yourself to him.
He adds a second finger inside of you and the stretch is deliciously overwhelming, your walls contract around his fingers as they move in and out with a steady rhythm. He curls his fingers inside you, hitting a perfect spot that makes you gasp and arch your back.
“Benny oh god! ” you cry out your hands trembling as you grip his hair painfully. He moans loudly against your folds and you savor the vibration of his voice sending a jolt straight through your core.
You begin to high-pitch moan, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as your orgasm builds.
His tongue licks broad strokes and quick flicks against your clit while he fingers you making you see stars.
“Benny your… gonna…make me come like this” you relent your thighs trembling as you try to endure every powerful sensation.
Your walls rhythmically contract around his thrusting fingers and the pleasure becomes too much to bear. You let out a desperate cry, your hips bucking softly against his mouth as your orgasm crashes over you. You moan, your voice trembling in ecstasy,
“Benny you made me come!” you cry out as waves of pleasure ripple through your body, leaving you light-headed and breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.
He continues to gently lick your clit, deliberately slowing the movements of his fingers inside of you, drawing out every last bit of your pleasure until finally, you collapse back, catching your breath as your body tingles with the aftershocks of your intense release.
You pant, staring down at him in awe as he slides his fingers from you and into his mouth, tasting your wetness. He smiles and the sight of him savoring you sends a shiver through your body.
“Benny you’re incredible,” you say in astonishment.
He rises and stands to look at you, his eyes dark with desire. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you,” he confesses his voice thick with emotion as his hand trails along your waist. “I will do everything to satisfy you” he murmurs, his gaze locked onto yours with an intense longing to please.
You feel warmth spread across your body at his words. “Take me the bedroom,” you say breathless, eager to see more of what he can do. You want him to take all the time in the world on you, feeling every part of you. His intense gaze remains locked on yours as he smiles at your request taking your hand and guiding you to the staircase.
As you walk up the stairs, you continue to steal glances at him. His strong, chiseled physique is mesmerizing, every muscle perfectly sculpted and radiating raw strength. The sight of his impressive erect cock heightens your anticipation even more.
His hand remains intertwined with yours, the roughness of his calloused fingers a stark contrast to the tender way he holds you.
Entering your bedroom, the morning light filters softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. Benny closes the door behind you, and you can feel the charged atmosphere enveloping you both. He turns to you, his eyes filled with an intensity that makes your heart race.
He leans in, capturing your lips with his, as his hands begin to explore your body. You feel his warmth, the firmness of his muscles pressing against you, as he gently guides you toward the bed. He lays you down carefully, his touch both tender and possessive.
Benny’s lips trail down your neck, planting soft kisses along your collarbone and further down to your chest. His hands caress your sides, memorizing every curve your body. The feeling of his touch, combined with the lingering sensations from your previous climax, sends shivers of pleasure coursing through you.
He takes his time, his lips and hands worshiping your body as if it were sacred. You feel his breath against your skin, the warmth of his kisses, and the gentle firm pressure of his hands. Your mind is clouded with desire, every touch and caress heightening your need for him.
Benny grabs your hips, pulling you to him with a roughness that sends a thrill through you.
As he finally positions himself over you, his eyes meet yours, and you see a mixture of lust and something deeper, a connection that transcends words.
He looks over your body, his gaze lingering on your curves, taking in every detail with a mix of admiration and desire until there is a moment of pause, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.
“My condoms are in my bike,” he realizes, his voice thick with need and before he can move to retrieve them you gently touch his wrist.
“I’m on Enovid,” you smile softly.
He blinks, confusion flickering across his face. “What’s envoid?”
“It’s a pill, I can’t get pregnant,” you explain
“Not ever?” he says and you smile gently as you see the initial panic in his eyes. You reach up, touching his face tenderly.
“If I stop taking it, I can easily become pregnant Benny.”
His eyes widen in realization. “I can… come in you?”
“Yes, Benny,” you affirm, your voice low and sultry, your eyes showing a dark seduction that makes his breath catch.
He stares at you in astonishment.
“This will be my first time… without a condom,” he confesses, a slight vulnerability in his eyes that makes your heart swell.
You smile reassuringly, caressing his cheek. “It’s okay, Benny. I trust you.”
His expression softens, and he leans down to kiss you deeply, his lips pressing against yours with a newfound intensity.
He positions himself at your entrance and the anticipation is almost unbearable. You can feel the heat of his body, the weight of him above you, and the hardness of his cock poised to enter you.
Slowly, he pushes in and you moan feeling every inch of him, the feel of his cock is intense as he deeply stretches you full of him.
He feels your tight walls taking him in, the sensation is a blend of pleasure and intimacy, he’s never experienced before making his breath hitch.
“You feel…. -So …good,” he groans, his voice filled with pleasure and awe as his eyes close immediately. His brows furrow in concentration as he savors the feeling of your slick, tight walls surrounding him. Every inch of him feels alive, every nerve ending tingling with the raw, powerful sensation of being inside you.
The warmth of his body against yours, the rhythm of his breathing, and the way he opens his eyes looking Into yours all combine to create a profoundly intimate moment.
He begins moving with slow measured thrusts, savoring the feeling of being inside you without any barriers
“Benny you’re …so deep” you gasp your voice trembling with pleasure feeling every inch of his hard cock thrust into you completely.
Benny’s eyes lock onto yours, his expression filled with raw desire and tenderness.
“I want you to feel all of me,” he breathes, his voice thick with emotion.
You moan from his words, the connection between you deepening with each thrust as he picks up the pace, his cock sliding in powerfully driving into you with a rhythm that leaves you breathless. His eyes never leave yours and you can see the raw emotion in his gaze.
“Am I making you feel good?” he rasps, his voice filled with a mix of desire and tenderness.
“Yes Benny, yes,” you moan, your voice trembling with pleasure.
His eyes darken with passion as he breathes, his movements becoming more intense.
“I’ve never felt anything like this,” he confesses. “I can’t get enough” he rasps. The warmth of your slick, walls grip his cock tightly, the skin to skin sensation, sending intense waves of pleasure through his entire being.
“Am I yours?” he questions, thrusting harder,“Do you want me?” he asks, his eyes desperately searching yours as you get lost in the overwhelming sensation of his large cock driving deep into your tight walls.
“Yes, Benny yes!,” you cry out, your body arching against his. “I’m yours, I want you!” you moan, clenching around him, the pleasure intensifying with every thrust of his large cock.
“I’m yours then,” he pants as he continues to thrust into you, his pace quickening the sensation of his size is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.
Without a condom, your wet walls glide against him and he can feel every pulse, every contraction, the raw intimacy of it almost too much to bear.
The connection feels so intense and primal he drives faster, thrusting harder, and pushing deeper, each motion fueled by the exquisite pleasure coursing through him.
His hips begin softly clapping against yours as he grunts thrusting into you at a forceful pace driving you both toward a powerful climax.
“I can’t hold back,” he groans, his voice raw with need. “You feel too good, I’m losing control,” he admits .
“Benny, come in me” you desperately moan, your body arching against his.
He responds with a deep, primal groan, his thrusts becoming urgent and powerful, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge.
“…-I want to feel you come around me first ” he breathes and brings his large hands to your waist pulling you forcefully to meet against his thrusting cock. You cling to him, your nails digging into his back leaving marks as you ride the waves of ecstasy, your bodies moving in perfect harmony.
“Yes Benny, yes… oh my god, yes!,” you cry out, your voice filled with raw pleasure as he roughly thrusts into you satisfying the tightness of your core. You begin gasping, your walls contracting around him as you orgasm.
His eyes squeeze shut from the sensation of your fluttering walls and he surrenders to the overwhelming pleasure.
His cock pulses hard inside of you, his hips stuttering as he loses control. Finally both reaching the peak your loud cries mingle together as you come simultaneously, the climax sweeping through you like a tidal wave.
He releases his cum deep inside of you, his desperate cries rattling your brain as you rhythmically contract around him, absorbing each other’s pleasure. The orgasm is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, a wave of pure ecstasy that leaves you breathless.
He slowly collapses onto you, his breathing ragged, his heart pounding against your chest. He holds you tightly in his arms, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion, knowing that this moment has forged an unbreakable bond between you.
As the waves of pleasure subside, his hand gently caresses your shoulder as you both catch your breath. His face resting in the nook of your neck as his body grows heavy.
“I don’t want this to end,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and reluctance. “I’ve never felt anything like this and I want to stay like this forever.”
You stroke his hair gently smiling, feeling the warmth of his breath against your neck. “I don’t want it to end either, Benny,” you whisper back, your voice tender and filled with emotion.
He smiles at your words and reluctantly sits up sliding his large cock back until the heavy tip slips out of your entrance leaving you momentarily empty. He rests his head against your chest, his breathing gradually slowing as he tries to hold onto the connection you’ve just shared.
You continue to stroke his hair affectionately, your fingers weaving through the soft strands, watching his eyes grow heavy as he tries to fight the comforts of sleep.
“It’s alright, Benny,” you soothe him softly. “Just rest now.”
His eyes slowly flutter closed, and you feel his body relax completely against yours as he drifts into a deep sleep. You watch him for a moment, as you hold him in your arms. His face soft and serene, the warmth of his body, the rise and fall of his chest, and the scent of his him all combine to create a profound sense of connection with him.
Continuing to stroke his hair you feel a deep attachment to Benny, realizing he has become so much than you ever expected. The rhythm of his steady breathing lulls you, and your eyes grow heavy, surrendering to the pull of rest. The last thing you feel is the comforting presence of Benny in your arms, as you drift into a deep and satisfying sleep.
🏍️ To be Continued 🏍️
🔗 Benny Cross Part 2: The Vandals 🏍️
Benny brings you to a Vandals biker meeting and introduces you to his club members and their old ladies. Everyone is surprised by your contrasting natures and pokes fun at Benny for dating a ‘fancy girl’.
They privately cast bets on how quickly you’ll use him for a thrill and ditch him once the fun’s over. Little do they know you both are in it for keeps.
You find out more about his rough biker lifestyle and his club leader, Johnny, who has Benny at his beck and call.
🏍️ Benny Cross Tag List 🏍️ @finley-08 @ashleybutler-26 @ifuckindontknow @landlockedmermaid77 @jvanilly @oceanablue @12joeywheelerfangirl @autumnleaves1991-blog @presley1992 @rose-deathman 🏷️ Always Tags Me List 💌 @burnthheparaphilia @purejasmine @lindszeppelin @abswifey @faegoddessog @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @magicovento @thegabbyh @fallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @unicoreads @lovereadingfanfic @elvismylove04 @denised916 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @meetmeatyourworst @rougegenshin @avidreader73 @jkdaddy01 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @majestyjade @pearlparty @depressedfairie
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lovetwist · 8 months ago
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Veil of Deception (I)
SYNOPSIS: In a world where political alliances are forged in blood and treachery lurks around every corner, you find yourself thrust into marriage with Feyd-Rautha, the enigmatic scion of House Harkonnen. Born to be his perfect mate, you grapple with the terrifying prospect of becoming entangled with a man known for his brutality, obsession, and madness. As your union unfolds, you navigate a landscape of deception and dark desires, struggling to find your footing in a marriage fraught with danger and uncertainty. Caught between duty and defiance, summon your strength and resilience to survive in a world where loyalty is a luxury and love is a dangerous game.
WARNINGS (R18+): mildly dub-con, smut, first time, weapons kink, mentions of violence, manipulations, genetic breeding, power play
Word Count: 3.5k
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PART 2
Below the towering spires of obsidian and steel, against a backdrop of opulent extravagance that flaunted wealth and power, a tension hung heavy, pregnant with the promise of destiny.
As Lady Atreides, sole daughter of Leto Atreides, you stood poised on the precipice of a meeting that would shape the course of your future. Your heart seized with nerves as you awaited the arrival of your betrothed.
Since your 15th name day, you had known of your engagement to the na-Baron. It was an inescapable fate predetermined by the Bene Geserrit. Your mother, Lady Jessica, had gone against them by giving birth to Paul, a male heir for Leto. Two years later, she gave birth to you – a gift of compromise for both sides. In return, Lady Jessica and Leto achieved the familial harmony they wanted, through the sacrifice of their daughter.
Every year, the Harkonnens requested your portrait to be sent along with a lock of hair. In exchange, they sent House Atreides jewels, gold, silks, and spice; disguised bribes for the upkeep of such a fine lady. They had only sent a portrait of Feyd-Rautha once. It was taken during his coming-of-age ceremony, a lean young man dressed in black fighting leathers. You stared often at the picture, looking to find some clue that could reveal his character. His demeanor was unnaturally cold and collected, yet his dark eyes barely concealed a burning rage. You wondered if Feyd-Rautha poured over you pictures as you did his.
Years passed and the engagement felt more like a false formality than reality. Unlike other noble families, you never exchanged letters with Feyd-Rautha or even met as a courtesy. Having completed your Bene Geserrit training under your mother, you learned that such things did not matter when it came to pairings arranged by the Reverand Mother. You caught whispers of conversation between your mother and her Bene Geserrit sisters. There would be no chance of failure, this union would be perfect. You were genetically engineered to be his absolute mate. Attraction and physical compatibility was assured. Everything about you was designed to lure him in – your scent, your voice, your everything was to be his undoing from the moment he would lay eyes on you.
Yet the thought gave you no confidence as you stood here now in Giedi Prime. Sexual attraction differed greatly from love, he didn’t need emotions to breed you. Feyd-Rautha, the enigmatic scion of House Harkonnen, was a man followed by countless stories of brutality and wickedness. You heard that he laughed when Reverand Mother subjected him to the Gom Jabbar. He didn’t endure pain, he reveled in it.
Your palms grew clammy, breath becoming increasingly shallow as you pondered the dark fate that awaited you in the form of this formidable man. Would Feyd-Rautha be the embodiment of all the whispered sin that had reached your ears, or would he prove to be an enigma beyond your wildest imaginings? With each passing moment, the anticipation mounted, weaving a delicate web of uncertainty around your heart as your braced yourself to meet the man who held your destiny in his hands.
The grand doors of the chamber swung open with a regal flourish, your heart quickened its pace, echoing the rhythm of anticipation that thrummed through the air. Through the gray haze of incense, you beheld Feyd-Rautha, a vision of masculinity and charisma, whose presence seemed to command the very essence of the room. His eyes met yours across the expanse of the chamber, a charged moment filled with unspoken tension, as if the universe itself held its breath in anticipation of this meeting.
You were ensnared in a tempest of conflicting emotions, thoughts swirling like sand caught in a desert storm. You questioned your own composure, wondering if you could maintain the facade of confidence expected of a lady of House Atreides in the presence of the young Harkonnen and the terrifying Baron. Feyd-Rautha may be your future husband, but he was not required to provide you a good nor happy life. After all, why would he? You were the daughter of his family’s sworn enemy. He may have been bound in marriage to you by centuries of bloodline manipulation, but he maintained a free will.
Would his words falter, betraying the tumult and hatred raging within him? Or would he summon the grace and poise befitting his station, masking the turmoil that churned beneath the surface? Your apprehension mounted, a symphony of doubt and fear playing out in the recesses of your mind. Yet, amidst the chaos of your thoughts, a glimmer of determination flickered like a distant star on the horizon, urging you forward into the unknown with a quiet resolve born of necessity.
For in the labyrinthine dance of politics and power that defined their world, you knew that you could ill afford to falter now. With a steadying breath, you squared your shoulders and prepared to face your destiny, whatever form it may take in the guise of a madman husband.
Feyd-Rautha, with an air of effortless confidence, strode forward, his gaze a smoldering ember that ignited a spark within your soul. In that fleeting moment, as your paths converged amidst the darkness and mist of the surroundings, you felt a surge of something unfamiliar yet undeniable—an electric current that crackled between your bodies, binding your fates together inextricably.
Words eluded you as you struggled to articulate the wave of emotions that threatened to consume you. Yet, in the silence that stretched between you two, you found solace in the understanding that this meeting was but the first step on a journey fraught with uncertainty and possibility. He bowed without taking his eyes off you. In greeting, you extended a gloved hand, Feyd-Rautha grasped it with a firm sense of resolve. You knew that your lives were now intertwined in ways neither could fully comprehend nor stop.
And in that moment, amidst the hazy dream of your shared future, you glimpsed the faintest flicker of something akin to desire dance across his eyes. You noticed a dilation of his pupils as he laid a kiss on the back of your hand. Then, his grasp of you tightened and tightened. Your face contorted in pain as a crooked smirk appeared on his features.
In the dim light of the chamber, your eyes traced the contours of his cheekbones and the fullness of his lips, searching for traces of the young man you once memorized in a portrait. Yet, try as you might, only a beast stood before you in the guise of a gentleman. When he stood at his full height with his darkened leer, you held yourself back from cowering. His gaze was vicious, his smile vulgar with blackened teeth, and he exuded an air of savagery.
“How delightful it is to finally meet you, Lady Atreides.”
His deep, raspy voice caught you off guard. What a performer he could be! Long gone was the ethereal allure he displayed when first entering the room, now you could see him for what he was.
“Likewise, my Lord Feyd-Rautha.”
Uncertainty lingered like a specter in the room, casting a pall over the impending union that would bind you with him. You let your gaze lower onto the floor as your parents approached to talk with the Baron and na-Baron.
You could feel his intense gaze burning through your body even as you moved away to be with your brother. Could his eyes pierce through your facade, unraveling the intricacies of your soul like fine thread? Such questions gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, casting shadows on your will to remain strong.
As the evening progressed, the tension in the air thickened like a fog, suffocating any semblance of ease. Seated at the long banquet table surrounded by your family, the Harkonnens, and noble guests, you found yourself ensnared in a delicate dance of propriety and peril.
Across from you, Feyd-Rautha lounged in his seat, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he watched you with unabashed fascination. His demeanor was that of a predator toying with its prey, his every movement calculated to instill a sense of discomfort. Your family would leave to Arrakis after the wedding festivities, then you would be truly left alone with him. The precariousness of your position tugged at your heart.
As the meal commenced, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense, punctuated by the clinking of silverware and the strained chatter of polite conversation. You forced yourself to engage in small talk with those seated around you, your words measured and careful, lest you betray the fear that coiled like a serpent in the pit of your stomach.
Despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of composure, you couldn't shake the feeling of being scrutinized by those dark, probing eyes. It was as if Feyd-Rautha could see straight through you, peeling away the layers of pretense to expose your most secret vulnerabilities. You found yourself growing increasingly unsettled. You longed to escape, to retreat to the safety of your chambers and away from the suffocating presence of the Harkonnen heir.
But you knew that there would be no reprieve, no sanctuary from the darkness that had descended upon your life like a shadow. For tonight, and every night thereafter, you were bound to him by the cruel machinations of fate, condemned to walk a path fraught with danger and uncertainty. And as you raised your glass to Feyd-Rautha’s toast to your impending union, you couldn't help but wonder what horrors awaited you.
“To the most beautiful bride in the world, I will certainly savor tomorrow’s…memories.”
The men at the table chuckled darkly while your father’s and brother’s jaws clenched. You lay your delicate hand over theirs, do not mourn me. If I am to die, I shall do so with honor.
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As your mother lowered your veil, you noticed tears forming in her eyes. You never thought you’d live to see the day the impenetrable Lady Jessica shed tears for you. I must really be walking into my death, you thought.
You looked at your reflection in the mirror. There were no words to describe the vision you saw. Crafted from the finest silk and satin, your wedding gown exuded an air of majestic elegance with flowing skirts cascading like waves of moonlight around your figure.
The bodice, adorned with intricate beadwork and delicate lace, hugged your curves with a tailored precision, accentuating a slender waist and graceful neckline. A row of tiny diamonds trailed down your body, gleaming against the smooth expanse of your back. While the front of the dress was conservative, your back was tastefully exposed through a combination of sheer silk, diamonds and pearls.
Your hair was pinned neatly into a bun with a delicate braid on each side. The veil was gauzy, making your face seem like a daydream. The ivory fabric of your dress pooled at your feet in a sea of frothy tulle and satin, forming a train that trailed behind you like a regal cloak. The wedding dress was embroidered with delicate motifs of growing vines, mountains and ocean waves – a reminder of Caladan.
At your collar, a border of intricate lacework added a touch of timeless elegance, its patterns catching the light in a dazzling display of shimmering beauty. With every movement, the gown seemed to whisper tales of romance and splendor, a clear hope to the love and devotion the seamstress had prayed you’d find. You choked down a sob.
You’ve made me an angel for him to ruin.
The wedding hall was adorned with such grandeur, you’d expect the emperor’s daughter was getting married instead. The flickering silver torches cast dancing shadows upon the ebony stone walls. As guests gathered in hushed reverence, the air crackled with anticipation, as if the very walls themselves whispered of your impeding damnation.
At the front of the hall, beneath a canopy of arched black silk, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen stood, an imposing figure in his ceremonial garb. His porcelain skin was stark against the darkness of his clothes as he awaited his bride.
You approached with measured steps, hardening your grip on your father’s arm. Your eyes must’ve betrayed your fear and resignation because you could see Feyd-Rautha biting the inside of his cheek to suppress a laugh.
As you reached the altar, his lips curled into a predatory smile, his voice dripping with malice as he spoke the vows that bound you together in unholy matrimony. The words echoed through the hall like a curse, sealing your fate alongside his.
As you exchanged rings, a union forged in the fires of despair, you vowed that though your body may be bound to Feyd-Rautha, your spirit would remain forever free.
Standing before him, you felt the weight of his gaze like chains around your soul.
With a solemn nod from the officiant, you and Feyd-Rautha were instructed to seal your union with a kiss. He removed your veil, his eyes lingering on your face. As his lips met yours, a shiver ran down your spine.
The kiss was surprisingly gentle, but devoid of love. You gasped when his tongue entered your mouth. It was a macabre dance of dominance and submission, a twisted mockery of affection that left a bitter taste upon your lips. You try to push him away, but he holds your hands firm against his chest. The Harkonnens roar with applause and laughter. As you pulled away, a sense of profound emptiness washed over you, a hollow echo of the dreams and desires that had once burned within your heart.
The rest of the wedding banquet was a blur. As you were led to the high table by Feyd-Rautha's side, you couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped, ensnared in a web of malevolence. The guests, mostly Harkonnen allies, noble families, and sycophants, feigned smiles and exchanged whispers, their eyes gleaming with a perverse curiosity at the spectacle of your union.
The feast itself was a decadent display of excess, with platters of exotic delicacies and goblets overflowing with rich wines. But the opulence only served to accentuate the suffocating atmosphere, as the room was closing in on you with each additional piece of ornate furniture.
Feyd-Rautha, ever the consummate host, played his part with calculated charm, his laughter ringing hollow in your ears as he regaled the guests with tales of conquest and murder. You watched him from across the table, his features twisted in a mask of false benevolence, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of revulsion mingled with a sliver of pity. He, too, was playing a part – ever the performer. 
Throughout the banquet, you were subjected to the leering gazes and whispered innuendos of the Harkonnen cronies, their crude remarks slicing through the thin veneer of civility like daggers. But you held your composure, steeling yourself against their taunts and jeers, refusing to let them see the cracks in your mask.
As the night wore on and the wine flowed freely, the mood grew increasingly raucous, the revelry descending into a frenzied ecstasy. You found yourself adrift in a sea of faces, each one a grotesque caricature of humanity, their laughter and applause a cruel mockery of your predicament.
And amidst the chaos and debauchery, you couldn't help but wonder what was in store for you, chained to a man whose heart was as black as midnight. As you absentmindedly finished your last sip of wine, Feyd-Rautha stood suddenly, his chair loudly rattling against the granite floors. A chilling silence descended upon the hall.
He extended a hand towards you and you immediately understood his intentions. You departed the hall, hand-in-hand as men watched with envy and women stared with pity. You couldn’t bear to look at the faces of your family, afraid that you might beg them to take you home.
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As you left the banquet hall with Feyd-Rautha, a heavy sense of foreboding settled over you. The echoes of the evening's macabre festivities lingered in your mind, each laughter, each lewd jest, a reminder of the gilded cage in which you now found yourself imprisoned.
You walked beside Feyd-Rautha, his grip firm upon your hand, guiding you through the labyrinthine corridors of the Harkonnen estate. There was an eerie stillness in the air. With each step, you felt the weight of your predicament pressing down upon you, the reality of your situation sinking in like a cold, unyielding truth.
You stole a glance at Feyd-Rautha, his expression unreadable in the dim light. Occasionally fireworks would alight by the window, allowing you to see his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger that made you look away immediately.
As you walked in silence, your mind raced with a flurry of thoughts and emotions, a storm raging within you. You couldn't help but wonder what awaited in the bedchamber. You weren’t ignorant to the act of consummating a marriage, but your husband was no ordinary man. What horrors lay in store for a woman bound to a man as cruel and cunning as Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen… what would satisfy a man like him? But amidst the fear and uncertainty, a flicker of desire burned within you, a stubborn resolve to claim him as much as he claims you.
He led you into a large room with double doors. Compared to the gaudy decorations of the wedding hall, this room was relatively simple: a chamber of dark elegance and understated grandeur. There were only the bare necessities required of a bedroom, but each piece had been impeccably handmade with the most exquisite of materials. At its center, a massive four-poster bed stands as the focal point, its frame crafted from polished ebony wood, intricately carved with motifs of serpents and ivy. Perfectly sized above the bed, stretching over the ceiling was pure reflective glass. You swallowed thickly, this man had no shame.
A grand chandelier hangs from the center of the ceiling, its crystals casting prismatic rays of light across the room, illuminating the space with a haunting allure.
The walls are lined with dark, navy paneling, adorned sparingly with antique tapestries depicting scenes of forgotten battles and dangerously sharpened weapons. A sleek, black writing desk sits nearby, stacked with books on war strategies and adorned with quill and parchment.
A sense of regal simplicity pervades the space, each element carefully curated to its master. This is a sanctuary of solitude, where one can retreat from the heaviness of the Harkonnen world and immerse themselves in the embrace of peace.
Busy admiring the room, you didn’t notice Feyd-Rautha locking the doors behind you. You tensed when you suddenly felt the coldness of a blade against your back. With one precise slice, he cut your wedding dress open leading all the decorative pearls to fall to the ground. Your hands instinctively went to cover yourself, but his newfound grip on your wrists was even faster.
“You are mine now, pet.” His hands slowly guided yours down as he ripped away the rest of your dress. “Do not resist me, I want to see you in all your beauty.”
Your face flushed as you looked away from him. You knew objecting to his wish was futile, perhaps if you appeased him then he’d be gentler. You learned this was a useless thought the moment you saw his expression – raw, animalistic hunger chipped away at the edges of his sanity. His pupils dilated so wide that his eyes became monochromatic orbs of obsidian.
He removed his own clothes with swift and lithe movements, revealing pure sculpted muscle. Through the rapid rise and fall of his chest, you could see that he was barely holding back his lust. Feyd-Rautha was going to devour you without leaving a single morsel for the world.
“I-I… If you hurt me, I will scream.”
“Go ahead, it’ll only stroke my ego if you do. Scream loud enough for the whole banquet to hear. Let them know what pleasures your husband bestows upon you.”
With each step he took towards you, you took two steps back. When you felt the bed come into contact with the back of your knees, you realize you’ve been trapped.
“Lie down.” he commanded.
Sensing the tonal shift in his voice, you obeyed. You felt his long, slender fingers enter your most intimate place. When he curved against your inner wall, you let out an involuntarily moan – which he quickly swallowed from your lips. You had touched yourself before, but only rarely during occasions when you couldn’t sleep and the moon was hanging high.
However, this was different – he was different. His fingers reached places where yours never could. Your body made lewd sounds as he pumped in and out of you with torturous speed. The way you grind against his hand was indecent, but he rewarded you with such sweet friction. Hearing his low pants against your ear, you couldn't help but writhe into his touch. When you came undone, he smirked and licked your essence from his fingers.
Before you could catch your breath, he was on top of you again; caging you between his toned arms. He reached out to grasp your chin before roughly crashing his lips down on yours. The kiss was all-consuming, he was drinking in every part of you without letting you breathe. Your eyes wandered down to where his member stood unnaturally stiff and enlarged. Your new husband sneered at your expression before his right hand circled around your throat.
“Your throat… it shall be my axis tonight.”
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andy-15-07 · 8 months ago
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A Father's Pride
masterlist ! pairing Feyd-Rautha x reader
SUMMARY : feyd rautha watches how Y/n plays with their child and hears her telling him about their relationship
DUNE Masterlist
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Feyd Rautha watched from the doorway, a proud smile tugging at his lips as he observed his wife, Y/n, playing with their young child in the living room. The room was filled with the sound of their child's delighted laughter as Y/n tickled and chased them around the room, her eyes sparkling with joy.
"You're getting faster, little one!" Y/n exclaimed, her voice filled with affection as she scooped up their giggling child in her arms.
Feyd's heart swelled with love as he watched the tender moment between mother and child. He stepped into the room, his presence unnoticed as Y/n continued to play with their child, completely absorbed in the moment.
"You're such a good mother," Feyd murmured, his voice soft with admiration.
Y/n looked up, surprise flickering in her eyes as she saw her husband standing there. A warm smile spread across her face as she approached him, their child still cradled in her arms.
"Feyd, I didn't hear you come in," she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Did you want to join us?"
Feyd nodded, his gaze lingering on their child. "I just wanted to watch for a moment. You two seem to be having so much fun."
Y/n grinned, bouncing their child gently in her arms. "We are. But it's even better when you're here with us."
Feyd's heart swelled with love at her words. He had never imagined he could be so lucky as to have Y/n as his wife and the mother of his child. As they settled down on the couch together, their child nestled between them, Y/n leaned her head against Feyd's shoulder.
"Remember when we first met?" Y/n asked, her voice filled with nostalgia.
Feyd nodded, a fond smile playing on his lips. "How could I forget? You captured my heart from the moment I saw you."
Y/n chuckled, her fingers tracing circles on their child's back. "And you swept me off my feet with your charm and wit."
They reminisced about their early days together, sharing stories of their courtship and the adventures they had shared. Feyd couldn't help but marvel at how far they had come since then—from two strangers brought together by chance to a family bound by love.
"You've given me everything I ever dreamed of and more," Feyd said, his voice filled with emotion.
Y/n smiled, her eyes shining with love. "And you've given me a life I never could have imagined. I'm grateful for every moment we've shared together."
Their child yawned, snuggling closer to them as they settled down for the night. Feyd pressed a kiss to Y/n's forehead, feeling grateful for the love and happiness they had found together.
"I love you, Y/n," Feyd whispered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/n leaned into his embrace, her heart overflowing with love. "I love you too, Feyd. More than words can express."
As they sat there together, surrounded by the warmth and love of their family, Feyd felt a sense of peace wash over him. In that moment, he knew that no matter what trials they faced in the future, as long as they were together, they could overcome anything.
And as their child drifted off to sleep in their arms, Feyd couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the precious gift of family that he held in his arms—a gift that he would cherish for the rest of his days.
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ab4eva · 8 months ago
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‘The Three of Us’
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Fully co-authored with: @precious-little-scoundrel
Thanks to: My incomparable co-author & sweetheart Marina, for being willing to follow this rabbit hole with me and explore this little trio! And for the gorgeous mood board and vibes, I’m obsessed. And to Ashley, for being the best damn cheerleader we could ask for. ♥️
Warnings: All the sex, 18+ only
Word count: 8k
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Sometimes in Hollywood, magic happens behind the scenes - in a dark corner of Bar Lubitsch or a little poolside bungalow at the Chateau Marmont. Things that are only whispered about in certain circles or sent to Deuxmoi with the stipulation of “anon please.” The blurry flash of a hand, littered with telltale rings, on her Instagram story. The paparazzi photos of a drunken night out before the three of them disappeared into the balmy Los Angeles evening. The fandom set ablaze by rumors as they combed over every sign, every possibility, every look that they took for god’s honest truth. A myth in the making, never confirmed, never denied.
When a ballsy journalist had the gumption to ask Callum about the rumors some months down the road, he just grinned his Cheshire smile and shook his head, the slightest blush hinting at the corners of his already ruddy cheeks.
“Nah, mate, can’t believe everyfing you read in Hollywood, can ya.” A statement, no trace of question in his ice blue eyes as he licked his cherry lips and stared the journalist down, daring them to dig deeper. His heart may have started pounding a little too hard but only he knew that. Nothing belied the steely gaze he turned on the journalist - not a flex in his jaw or a slight blink or the whisper of a breath. Needless to say, that journalist had no desire to go toe-to-toe with all six feet two inches of Chelsea’s finest lad. They let the subject drop, though the air had already been sucked out of the tiny interview room. Callum noted with suppressed glee the way the journalist shifted in their seat uncomfortably, trying to regain the upper hand.
Serves ya right, ya wanker, floated through Cal’s head and it took all his energy to focus his thoughts on the next question being asked of him. Now that the taboo subject had been brought up, he couldn’t keep his mind from drifting back towards that fateful night, like the breach in a ship’s hull the memories flooded in. The soft give of her flesh beneath his fingers as he dug them into her hips, needing her closer, closer. The salty taste of Austin’s skin on his tongue as he dragged it slowly across his friend’s collarbone, the streak of wetness left behind shimmering in the moonlight. The mingled sighs and shared breaths, overpowering and heady in that dark little bungalow. That was the night he couldn’t get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. It didn’t matter how many books he read or women he kissed or bloody hikes he took in Runyon Canyon, he was always going back to the night when everything changed.
-
“Didn’t I see you at the Luchino Visconti retrospective a couple nights ago? At the Academy?” The very definition of tall, dark and handsome has just walked in the room, smiling down at you and waiting expectantly for your answer. This is Callum Turner, the new client you’re working with for Masters of the Air press (alongside Austin Butler, your regular client and current boyfriend-adjacent…guy. It’s casual, you’re both keeping it casual. For now.).
“Oh! Were you there? Wasn’t it amazing?” you gush, a little flustered.
“It’s kind of rare to meet another Visconti fan. You must be one of the good ones.” He grins at you, all warmth and puppy dog eagerness. A kindred spirit, an instant connection. You would be very charmed by him, if you weren’t already attached to someone else. Who are you kidding, you’re charmed by him anyway. Talking with him comes easily, and the time flies by as you style his hair, moisturize his skin, add a bit of concealer here and there. He’s funny, sweet, intelligent. Austin has told you a bit about him, about his friend who helped him during one of the most confusing times of his life. But this - this is more than you were expecting. He’s more than you were expecting. And you’re pretty sure he’s flirting with you. When he asks you out for a drink later, you’re absolutely certain. It is with no small amount of regret that you turn him down.
-
The first time you noticed something akin to a spark between the man you’d casually been dating and his co-star was during press interviews for their new television series, Masters of the Air. As Austin and Callum’s groomer and makeup artist, you were allowed a seat at the back of the room, near the video monitors, ready to jump into action if one of Austin’s curls needed to be twisted back into place or if Callum’s nose got too shiny and needed a bit of powder. You glanced up from your phone to see the two of them leaned so close together their shoulders touched, just barely. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Callum’s mouth looked as if it might graze the shell of Austin’s ear, a smirk playing at the edges, as his dark, curly head bent conspiratorially towards his friend’s blonde one. Silly boys, you thought, smiling to yourself as you watched them. You’d seen that look on Austin’s face before…it was almost one of… adoration.
Without warning your mind flashed back to last night, Austin gazing up at you through your thighs, a look of devotion on his face, his sandy hair ruffled and his eyes slightly dazed. The very same look that he’s now turned on Callum… Nah… You laughed at yourself quietly and shook your head to clear your thoughts, silently scolding yourself. You’d been reading too many spicy novels recently and clearly your imagination was running wild. It made sense that he and Callum were close. Austin had been lost as a newborn calf without a mother after Elvis had wrapped and Masters of the Air had started filming. A brotherhood, that’s what Austin had called it. And Callum had been his right hand man. And that’s all, you were sure. Pretty sure.
-
Bar Lubitsch is dim and noisy, crowded with cast and crew of Masters for an impromptu celebration while so many of them are in town. Austin hasn’t been here in years, always remembered it being a good time. He wants to show you and Callum a good time, after all the hard work you three have been putting in for press the past couple of weeks. That was two hours and three drinks ago, and you watch them now from your perch at the bar and how much they feed each other’s souls, like displaced brothers, reunited after years apart. The evening is starting to shift and blur, so many drinks and people and noise and singing. You never knew Callum loved to sing so much, until he was singing karaoke at the top of his lungs and the whole bar was gathered around the little stage in the back room, jumping to the beat while he sang the most risqué lyrics right to Austin, like they were the only two people in the room:
Even when the cold comes crashing through
I'm putting all my bets on you
I hope they never understand us
I put my heart inside your palms
My home in your arms
Now we know nothing matters
Nothing matters
And you can hold me like he held her
And I will fuck you like nothing matters
You’re not sure you’ll ever be over Callum pinching Austin’s cheeks, channeling his inner Egan, and singing right at him with drunken gusto while Austin is too tipsy to remember not to bask in it and it’s probably the cutest, and hottest, thing you’ve ever seen. It’s only afterwards that you start to feel a tiny flicker of jealousy. There’s something between them, a connection that time and distance hasn’t untethered. Later, you drag Austin into one of the faded velvet booths, snuggling up to him as he pulls you into a one-armed embrace, kissing your temple with glassy eyes and a crooked smile. His heady mix of sweat and cologne mingle, along with the alcohol, and suddenly you’re lightheaded. Not to mention the fact that his soft lips have seemed to have move, with lightning speed, from your temple to your neck. You gently push him away, and he gives you a questioning look but you need to see his face when you ask him this.
“Hey…what’s going on with Callum? Because, it’s clearly something? And whatever it is, it’s ok, really it is…but…I do have eyes, Austin,” you blurt out, biting your lip. You see a dozen different emotions cross his features, like a movie playing out in real time - surprise, guilt, defensiveness, longing, acceptance. His face goes all red and he leans his head back, his tan throat open and inviting, his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down as he swallows thickly. It takes everything in you not to kiss him right this second.
“It’s…complicated. Kind of,” he sighs as he stares up at the ceiling and you can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it and that’s answer enough for you. You don’t push him further as you quietly turn his mouth to yours and make him forget anything and everyone but you.
-
“Come on Aus, it’ll be just like old times,” Cal goads drunkenly, placing a proprietary hand on Austin’s belly, his words laden with meaning and a hint of pleading. It’s not like he’s missed Austin or anything…not like that. Not that he’d admit anyway, hell no. Couldn’t two dudes have a consensual thing and not be weird about it? It must be liquid courage that made him suggest it aloud. That and the fact Austin keeps looking at him like he hung the damn moon.
“Swear you’ll shut up? If I say yes, will you just…chill?” Austin’s eyes are trained on you and it takes everything in him to play it cool, keep a calm head. Cal’s hand is still on Austin’s stomach and he starts to pet him, just above the belt and it makes Austin lurch in sudden need. He licks his lips, they’re suddenly parched, and swallows hard. He hears Cal snicker softly in his ear.
“Now, see, as I recall, you wouldn’t stop asking me to keep sayin’ shit last time.” Callum’s voice floats above the music, scratchy from gin and karaoke, hot breath tickling the shell of Austin’s ear. His hand moves to squeeze Austin’s neck, and if Austin didn’t know any better he’d swear it was a subconscious power move, Callum trying to literally bend Austin to his will. There’s an all too familiar twitch down Austin’s pant leg, and oh god he wishes- he thought, he was so sure, he was past that phase of responding like one of Pavlov’s dogs to Callum’s adoration and teasing.
Maybe it’s just the notion, his suggestion. That’s what’s suddenly making Austin’s blood feel hot and his eyes hazy, it’s the idea of her…and him! But mostly her, just her, and sharing her and- None of that explains the way he wants to bend to that firm hand squeezing in drunken cajoling at the base of his neck, makes him want to knock noses and yank at the stupid collar of Callum’s sweater until there’s collarbones to see and a draft under the wool. This is winter in Los Angeles, heating inside is state of the art, there’s no reason for such coziness and it’s making the man sweat and all Austin can think of from the smell is memories of an English summer, worn out and floating in his own body, biting down on Callum’s upper arm, tangy, sweaty flesh to keep an awfully strange escapade quiet.
That does it. What is he even thinking? He must’ve drank more than he realized but then, oh god, there Cal goes, throwing his hands up in defeat, shrugging his shoulders like a kid caught trying to push his luck. The arm around his shoulder is suddenly gone, and he’d give anything to have it back again. He shakes his head - he really must’ve had too much to drink. It was making him melancholy and sobering him up fast. Funny how alcohol will do that to you.
“Scouts honor, Butler, I’ll-I’ll-I’ll,” he seems to search the ceiling in drunken concentration for the correct wording most likely to open the doors to the kingdom, “I’ll be- it’ll be: HER, YOU and a um, uh mannequin. How ‘bout that, mate? Good enough for ya? You’d probably like that, wouldn’t ya? Ya little freak!” He lands a playful right hook to Austin’s jaw, hard knuckles digging into soft cheeks.
The usually inflammatory epithet of ‘freak’, coming as it does from a man begging for a threesome with himself and his girl, is nothing short of rabidly complementary. Callum’s shit-eating, triumphant grin could light up the whole damn room in this moment. He knows he’s got Austin right where he wants him and starts to count down silently in his head - three…two…
Austin finds himself grinning, a warning, measured thing but a condoning of the sentiment all the same.
“One,” Cal says out loud, his arm going back around Austin’s shoulders, squeezing so hard Austin winces a little. It’s a reflective motion then, done almost without thinking, when Austin slaps Callum’s thigh, not realizing there’s a boner bent down that trouser leg. A wounded hiss leaves Callum’s lips as he caves in on himself a little bit and Austin freezes, his face turning crimson and he feels another twitch down his own trousers.
“Steady on mate,” Callum coughs, shaking a leg, trying to discreetly readjust. “And I thought I was the eager beaver here.” Austin wants to wipe that smirk right off Callum’s smug little face but the moment their eyes meet they can’t help but start to laugh. Giggles, really, which turn into loud guffaws that has the whole bar turning to see what the commotion is about.
Your head whips around at the sound you’ve grown to know well over the past few weeks, the loud and boisterous laughter of two friends who seem forget that anyone else exists when they’re together. You spot them, huddled close as they always seem to be, and shake your head. A grin tugs at your lips and threatens to spill out the feelings fluttering around in your chest, no your stomach, no…somewhere else, lower. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about the two of them…together. Sometimes you’re with them, sometimes you’re not, in these little fantasies of yours. You catch yourself biting your lip and staring at them a little too longingly. You wonder what they’re saying now, both of them look flustered and awkward, just slightly. You can actually feel the tension rolling off of them in waves from where you stand across the bar.
Austin chooses that moment to look up and catch your eye. There’s a fire in his gaze that wasn’t there earlier and what is that look on his face? You’ve never seen it before…shy and almost…guilty? He looks just like a little boy who’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Your eyes question him across the dim bar, an unspoken tether ties you together wherever you are, and uncertainty about the deal he’s just struck with Callum comes creeping in. What has gotten into him? He’s just agreed to share you, with another man. And not just any man, one he has a rather interesting history with. The thought of Callum touching you, kissing you, fucking you…suddenly he’s stone cold sober and beginning to regret letting Cal sway his decision. Because there sure as hell won’t be any take backs, not with Callum. He’s like a dog with a bone once he gets what he wants.
-
“Dude no, there’s chemical flavoring in there, that shit’s bad for you and it’ll give her irritation!” Austin looks slightly perturbed, not for the first time this evening. He sways slightly under the florecent lights of the drugstore, the constant buzzing adding to the pounding in his head.
“What if it’s not intended to go on her? Hmm? Thought of that Butler?” Callum murmurs under his breath, his eyes focused solely on the lube he’s holding, a pink blush creeping up his neck to his ears. Has a blush under drugstore fluorescents ever looked so lovely? And Austin hasn’t stopped biting that lower lip since you walked into this place. It hasn’t stopped him from grinning, though, his excitement bubbling through in little ticks and tells, the nervous turning over of the vaseline jar in his large hands.
“You haven’t even bought me dinner Cal, just straight to the flavored lube,” Austin bemoans, faking offense. “’Sides, she’s already sweet enough, aren’t you baby? I’ve had my fair share of licks,” Austin’s shoulder bumps yours as he sends you a smoldering look, his eyes flickering down your body briefly before his cheeks turn a slight rosy color you can see blooming up from his chest through his open shirt collar.
“Austin!” you hiss, slapping his arm playfully and hiding your face in his neck, embarrassed.
“Leave it to you two twig Bettie’s and we’d be down to nothin’ but socks and coconut oil,” Cal snarks, not at all inaccurately.
“I don’t remember you minding coconut oil last time,” Austin says under his breath, clearly meant for Callum’s ears only, but you manage to catch it, and your heart starts to pound at the implied meaning.
“Mmm, and it was bitter so - mojito,” Callum says decidedly, leaving no room for argument. Austin smiles at you, lifting his shoulder in a shrug and rolling his eyes heavenward. You giggle nervously, wondering for the first time just what you’re getting yourself into.
“I saw that! Listen mate, feel free to shut me up at any time. This would do nicely, ya reckon?” Callum lifts a silk sleeping mask with one, long finger and swings it around seductively, waggling his eyebrows up and down comically. You laugh and the butterflies making a home in your ribcage start to settle down again.
-
The whimpers emanating from between your parted lips take you by surprise and you promptly shut your mouth, unexpectedly embarrassed to be mewling so wantonly. You bite your lip as it becomes harder and harder to hold them in with every slow thrust of Austin’s velvety cock filling you, his swollen tip hitting just the right spot, and every flick of Callum’s tongue as he laves at your tender little clit with vigor. You feel Austin tense slightly beneath you as Cal swirls his tongue down to your opening to lap at where you and Austin join, sloppy and wet. A soft moan floats past your left ear, Austin’s hot breath sending a shiver through you, and it seems to invigorate Callum as he doubles down on his efforts to have his tongue cover as much surface area as possible. He chuckles and it jolts through you as your back arches, your fingers finding his dark curls and yanking him closer, demanding something you aren’t even aware of. He understands what you need even if you don’t and as his lips close around your sensitive bud you can no longer keep quiet, keening softly. You practically buck off of Austin’s lap and his arm tightens around your waist to keep you in place. The harder Callum sucks, the more Austin starts to whine - you’ve gotten so tight around him he can hardly thrust.
“Oh fuck, what’re you doing? Cal…what…” you slur as you pull at his hair, trying to dislodge him from your clit. You feel him grin against your heat as he slowly slips two fingers in you, resting them alongside Austin’s length. You hiss at the stretch and Austin starts to pick up his pace again. Your head is too hazy with pleasure to register fully what is happening as Callum gently slides another finger in next to the first two. His mouth works your clit, sucking and pulling, harder then soft again.
“More…more more more,” you beg hoarsely. You feel as if you might fly away and the only thing anchoring you to earth are these two men and their hands and their mouths on your body. Callum cocks an eyebrow at you and his eyes shift to Austin. You feel him nod, barely, and then another burning stretch as Cal slips his pinkie in next to his other fingers. It drives you insane and you feel yourself clenching and coming, harder than you can ever remember. You stop breathing for a moment, your mind going numb with rapture as you come apart at the seams.
“Oh fuck,” Austin whispers, biting your shoulder, his hand absentmindedly palming your breasts, pinching your hardened nipple. “Come on baby, I know you’ve got more, give us another one. Cal, can’t thrust with you in there…give me some room, huh?”
Callum let’s go of your clit with a wet pop and gently slides his fingers out. His nose and chin are shiny with your juices, even his eyebrows look a little damp and he’s grinning from ear to ear.
“Go on then, Butler, show us what you got.” He stands, knees popping as he does. From up here he can see your faces clearly, yours and Austin’s. He watches, rapt, as Austin nuzzles your neck, nipping at your earlobe as he speeds up his thrusts, toying with your nipples mercilessly. Your eyes flutter closed and your head drops back onto his shoulder. Callum shakes his head, dazed and pussy drunk - why was he on his knees so long?? He coulda been watching this the whole time? But he knows why- fresh, homegrown pussy. And he means to have his fill. He can’t take being on the sidelines, watching Austin move in and out of you at a punishing pace, having all the fun. One of Callum’s massive palms descends onto your clit, slapping and rubbing cruelly, back and forth, faster and faster. And then you’re gushing everywhere, all over Callum’s hand and Austin’s cock and the bed, soaking everything.
“Come on then girl, give us all you’ve got,” Cal encourages, his raspy voice driven to the point of hoarseness. He grabs his painfully hard, throbbing cock and roughly starts to slap your clit. You gasp, jerking in Austin’s arms as you fall apart again. And then Callum gets a thought, because his dick is doing most of the thinking just now, and it’s been sadly neglected thus far. He’s just had four fingers in you and now you’re literally flinging droplets with each swipe, it’s a goddamn swamp down there it’s so wet. He slows his slaps and starts to rub soft circles against your clit, stopping every once in a while to try your entrance gently, just to see. You moan breathlessly and his heart speeds up as he looks at Austin questioningly.
“I recognize that gleam in your eye, Turner…spit it out,” Austin says in a slightly strangled voice.
“Think you can take us both, angel? At the same time?” Callum directs his question to you, ignoring Austin.
You can’t take your poor abused clit getting ground on anymore, it’s just too intense, anything to give it a break. You nod your head so fast he thinks it might fly off. Your trembling little hand reaches down with disjointed begs of “Put it in baby, put it, please Cal, it’s burning.”
Your sloppy wet pussy hole visibly clenches with a tiny space of room left each time Austin digs in. Callum drunkenly wonders if they should have a medical professional on standby for this sorta shit, like it’s gotta be a crime to wedge two boys into a girl, especially when Butler’s packing like that. But your whine suggests you need it and he’d really like to not be left out. FOMO -that’s what he’ll blame when he’s driving the ambulance or else coming down from the craziest high he’s ever had with a pool of cum drying on his belly.
Austin goes still as a statue under you and drags your sweaty hair across to the other shoulder so he can really see your face and ask, “You sure? Baby, talk to me, you really wanna try?” His hand gently grips your chin, forcing you to focus on his eyes, his question.
“I’ll die if I don’t have you both,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper, but Austin still looks concerned and slightly perturbed. Is the girl he knows even in there? But you want something, you want this and he’ll be dammed if he doesn’t give you anything you want that’s within his power to give. And if there’s one thing he loves about you it’s your love of a challenge. He bites his cheek, trying not to blow his load over your sweet determination.
“Ok ok.” Austin takes a deep, steadying breath, kissing your wet temple and gives Callum a very familiar look of admonishment and also trust in his good intentions. “Careful, man, really careful,” he instructs as Callum nods his silent assent.
“No safe words, just if somebody says stop we stop, ok?” Austin’s starting to pant, as he can feel the poofy mushroom head of Cal’s cock brushing his sack at your entrance. “Anybody who says stop,” he clarifies, half thinking he might be the first to wimp out and do it.
“Yeah, yeah, ‘course.” Cal actually looks sober as fuck except for the sheen of sweat that always seems to come with his pints and somehow the eye contact he makes lights a fire in Austin’s belly.
“I might say no,” you squeak, “I won’t mean it though, just a heads up. I’ll say stop- if I need to stop.”
“No?” Cal laughs nervously. “That might make me feel a little…bad,” he admits, still rubbing maddening circles around where Austin’s been practically cockwarming you for ages.
“Stop getting all existential and give her what she wants, man,” Austin rebuts.
“It’ll make me feel bad if she says no,” Cal blurts, running a hand through his already messy hair.
“Then I’ll do it.” Austin’s voice is rough in your ear and your nipples harden into peaks as he gently pulls out of you and pats the bed. “Tell Cal to lay his big ass self down.”
You giggle as Callum dives onto the bed, bouncing for a moment until he settles, turning over onto his back, head propped on a lazy forearm. He pats his meaty thighs and you roll your eyes but can’t deny the flip flop your stomach does at the thought of those thighs and what a nice cradle they’ll make while you’re railed within an inch of you’re life. And then you’re hovering over him, Cal kneading your hip encouragingly while running an admiring hand up and down your spine, like you’re a skittish horse in need of calming. You hesitate, momentarily unsure, but Austin nods at you reassuringly from the foot of the bed and ever the gentleman, gives you his hands to hold as you sink slowly down on Callum. Though his gentlemanly hands are gripping yours tightly, his eyes are glued to your pussy taking every inch of uncut Brit cock that he’s maybe gagged on once.
“Earth to Butler!” comes from behind you because Austin’s zoned out a little and it’s been a hot minute and you’re somewhat situated now.
“Oh, yeah, yeah, uh, ok, ok…”
Cal snickers before crunching up behind you, his chest hot against your back as he wraps his arms around you. “You feel lovely, darlin’, wanna lay back wif’ me? Don’t mind him, he’s lost it. Always goes a bit soft in the head around a pretty pussy or my cock.”
It’s a lot from this position and laying back against Callum’s chest is intense. You feel like he’s fully in your belly and it stretches your womb over him. He feels different…his isn’t as wet as Austin’s little water fountain but it throbs more noticeably, sending little shocks of pleasure through you. Cal pets your belly soothingly and spreads your pussy lips for Austin to really get a look at. You whine and squirm, realizing again the want for more. Those fingers dabbling at your entrance, threatening to push inside you once more and that’s when Austin breaks, recalling that’s what he and his cock are here for.
“Yeah, ok, ok, present and accounted for. Move your hand,” he murmurs, swiping Cal’s hand away. He thumbs at you himself for a bit, just to be sure and to watch as Cal loses his cool facade for a second when you clench tightly around him.
“Still sure about this, baby?” He asks one more time as he’s pressing at the ring and the burn has you bracing. You feel Cal’s hand move from your waist to your thigh, behind your knee, cupping it and dragging it wide, spreading you apart before you’ve even said your piece. The vote of confidence does you good and you take a deep breath, nodding once, decisively.
“Then put me in, angel,” Austin tells you, fat cockhead already snagged in but there’s a little ripple in his hard cock from the resistance of the tight space. Steeling yourself, you reach down and wrap your fingers around him, tugging him closer and slowly feeding his thickness into you alongside Cal’s, who starts thrashing his head and moaning at the drag like he’s the one getting breached.
“Good girl, good girl, please more…know you can take more.” Cal’s begging for cock by proxy and it alters your brain somehow. Austin’s too, he puts his hips into the effort and soon he’s gotten past the muscles at your command and into the threshold where you can’t manage to push him out if you tried. It makes you panic a little, but Cal is softly shushing in your ear, a distracting thumb stroking behind your knee, other freckled hand mauling a tit and begging you to take more cock so he can get friction.
“She can take it, come on, Austin,” he vouches for you, a little self promotion as you can’t even form words right now. Somewhere about six inches in your vocabulary consists of yelped little “fuck’s”and whimpering “I cant’s”.
Austin caresses your cheek, commanding you to look at him, his blue eyes focused in on yours, “That’s it baby, just a little more. You’re doing so good for us… such a good girl.”
Callum grab’s Austin’s shoulder and brings him fully deeper, which is all well and good when Austin kisses your forehead and insists raggedly, “You are doing it, baby.”
When he finally pushes in that last little bit, you lose any control you thought you had, instantly coming from the stretch and threatening to push Austin out. But he presses nothing less than his full weight on you, keeping you in place and himself snug inside next to Callum. You gasp for air and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, clinging to him. Austin tries to remember to breathe and promptly forgets how when he makes eye contact with Callum for the first time since being balls deep.
“Are you -is that you…twitching?”
“Woulda thought you’d remember that,” Callum smirks. “Coulda sworn I recall you saying something about it jumping like a live wire in your hand?”
“Christ, well it feels different all…snuggled up next to mine,” Austin grits out, coloring slightly.
After a moment or two, when breath has been regained and a few laughs shared and some semblance of sanity restored in right spaces, Cal starts to pepper every inch of your neck and cheeks in kisses. Now that he’s not so desperate he’s become utterly grateful for you, for this. The kisses turn into sloppy, wet groans in your ear as Austin begins to move and Cal’s hand is gripping your jaw, his eyes locked on Austin, your legs thrown wide over his thighs, spread to the max and he’s a perfect recliner. He throws his other arm across your chest in a loving armbar, holding you still on top of him, “So Butler can get a rhythm, baby.”
Austin looms above you both, finding his pace, measured and steady. His beautiful face is flushed full of awe and there’s a heat in his gaze you’ve never seen before. He puts his hand on Callum’s shoulder for leverage, long fingers digging into freckled flesh and Cal promptly lays a little smooch on Austin’s forearm with a cheeky grin. Austin’s eyes shift and change, become a deeper blue and an expression you can’t read flits across his face as he jabs a particularly hard thrust into you. Callum starts to whimper and squirm when he realizes Austin’s thrusts are rubbing him too well, and it's not just you who’s getting their spot hit - that spot being his foreskin being drug back and forth in maddening little drags.
“Y’all like that? Feel good?” Austin growls lowly, rhythmic thrusts pushing you and Callum deeper into the fluffy white sheets, both of your whimpers combining until you can’t tell who they belong to. Austin groans and drives in harder, his white knuckles gripping Callum’s shoulder hard, while he reserves his tenderest touch for you, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your cheek.
“You’re…enjoying this…” you manage to moan between thrusts. His face splits into a grin as he pushes all the way in, pausing for a moment to kiss you hard, all tongues and teeth and desperation.
“Oh, fuck mate, that’s so good. Oh my god,” Callum babbles. “Right there, fuck, right there. You feel so good.”
“Which one, baby girl? Me or her?” Austin smirks.
For once, Callum has no witty response except the heavy panting in your ear. He squeezes your waist harder and his fingernails indent your hip and it gives you something else to focus on while you catch your breath, a tiny escape from the mind-blowing ecstasy you feel and the slight alarm bells ringing in your head. You can feel Callum somehow expanding and growing inside of you, even bigger than he was before. Austin’s eyes go wide and a look of panic crosses his face - his perfect pink mouth forms a perfect “o”.
“Oh shit, what…why is everything so fucking tight again…what is happening,” Austin groans breathlessly, his mouth set in a determined line, teeth ground together so hard you worry momentarily he might break a tooth. He tightens his grip on Callum’s shoulder and Cal’s massive hand encircles Austin’s delicate wrist, knuckles white as he holds on for dear life.
“Faster…faster,” Cal begs, again and again. “Sorry no, mate it’s, it’s fuckin’ happenin’…oh fuck.” His head cranes forward and you can feel his belly and hips flexing beneath you as he tenses over and over, letting out a hoarse sort of howl as he comes. His warmth fills you and it shakes something loose in your head, your own stomach starting to clench as you grab a handful of Austin’s golden hair, urging him on. Callum’s hands are all over you, petting you everywhere as he starts to come down.
“S’ok I came in ya? Yeah? Good, ‘cause I did,” he whispers hoarsely with a remorseful little laugh, back to babbling to you now that Austin’s got him there. He wipes the sweaty hair from your forehead, tucking a piece of it behind your ear and kisses your neck, whispering encouraging words, “That’s it, babe, give us another one.”
Cal’s bitten off little whimpers spur you on, as his soft cock is trapped in there too, getting pummeled. He’s trying to focus on you, with little pets and murmurs of encouragement but you feel his jaw clench as he grits his teeth, taking the pounding Austin is giving the both of you.
“Got me feelin’ like a proper woman, squealin’ n’ shit, Aus.”
You feel another orgasm build and shake through you, one of the many countless times you’ve fallen apart tonight, but this one stands out. It would bring you to your knees if you were unlucky enough to be standing at this moment. You’re sure it has something to do with knowing you’re satisfying two men at once, Callum having found his release and Austin being close to his. You can tell he’s on the verge by the little signs you’ve grown to recognize over the course of your relationship. The way his forehead creases in between his brows - you’ve kissed it away a dozen times in the heat of the moment. The way his pulse beats on the side of his neck, his vein there popping out and becoming more prominent. The short little huffs of breath he inhales, in quick succession - one, two, three, bam, bam, bam, like three shots straight to your heart. It’s your turn to take care of him, the last one standing after he made sure you and Cal got yours.
“Your turn, baby,” you whisper, pulling his forehead down to meet yours, thumbing at the hollows of his cheeks as he begins to tremble and his thrusts turn sloppy. He kisses you again, sucking on your tongue before moving to latch onto your neck. Cal wraps a hand around Austin’s throat, pushing his head back and squeezing just enough for his eyes to widen and his mouth to pop open. His blue eyes darken and you think he’s going to put his mouth on you again, but he bypasses you and goes straight for Callum’s collarbone, his perfect, white teeth sinking into Callum’s lovely English skin and biting down, hard. Cal yelps but doesn’t let go of Austin’s neck, and that’s when you feel it, your belly filled with warmth again as Austin pulses and twitches inside you, a stuttered moan muffled into the crook of Callum’s shoulder. He collapses on top of you and Callum, completely and utterly spent, the three of you breathing heavily and unable to move for a few moments. You squirm a tiny bit, trying to take a deep breath with one man plastered to your front and another to your back.
Austin gets the hint and lifts himself back up on shaky arms, slipping out of you with a squelch. You gasp one final time, at the sudden loss of him, and a cold emptiness is left where he once filled you to the brim, almost to breaking. The coldness is replaced quickly by a gushing warmth spilling out of you. You feel Callum suck in a breath, his broad chest expanding beneath you, his right arm still wrapped tightly around your chest.
“Christ, it’s running down my balls,” he wheezes out, taking another shuddering breath.
Austin braces himself against the headboard and slowly disentangles himself, flopping limply beside you on the bed. He looks at you and Cal still entwined, his eyes moving from both of your faces flushed with heat, down to Callum’s arm still tightly wrapped around you, one large, meaty hand gripping your breast, his middle finger absentmindedly pressing the sensitive bud of your nipple down. Austin sucks in breath after breath, and his eyes travel lower, to your legs still splayed wide over Callum’s sturdy thighs, his softening cock still nestled deep inside you, the spend of both men slowly dripping out of you. A sudden flash of possessiveness roars through him - for you, for Callum. For the sacred thing he has with both of you. His face goes numb and his ears start to ring. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.
“What is it, Aus?” you whisper, stretching out a hand to him. He looks forlorn, alone on the other side of the bed, his vulnerable face a mix of emotions crashing together all at once, lost and unsure, the gravity of everything settling on his shoulders like a blanket.
“Come back to us.” Your fingertips barely reach to brush his bronzed chest, the little blonde hairs soft against your skin. “Please.”
He lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding and crawls back over, wrapping his arms around you both and collapsing on top of you again. You’re hilariously squished in the middle of a bear hug now, both men squeezing with all their might, a strange show of masculinity to mask true feelings.
“I can’t breathe….” you manage between giggles. Callum lets out a soft chuckle in your ear, his breath warm against your cheek as his arm shifts beneath you. He digs his fingers into Austin’s armpit and wiggles them around none too gently. Austin bucks against you and squeaks out an uncharacteristically high laugh, trying to squirm out of Cal’s grasp, but it’s too strong and Austin’s body feels like jelly just now.
“Hey! Hey hey, no fair…you know I hate… being… tickled…” Austin grunts out, trying desperately to writhe out of this strange embrace.
-
Bright, cheerful sunshine spills onto the hotel room floor and across the bed, where it has no right to be at this ungodly hour. It shines in unabashedly, through drapes you forgot to close properly in all of your horny desperation. A little sliver of verdant green Hollywood hills is the only signal from the outside world. In here, somewhere between sleeping and waking, in that hazy early morning dreamland, you register Austin tucked up close behind you, his knees pushing the backs of yours and his warm, heavy arm slung over your waist. This is how you wake up every morning and you scoot your bottom back, into the cradle of his hips, momentarily unaware of the pulverization of your insides. But scenes from last night play out like a clip reel inside your head almost as soon as you’re conscious. You squeeze your eyes tight, refusing to give the sun its due. You stretch your legs gingerly, wiggling your toes against Austin’s, and take stock of things. There’s the obvious ache between your legs - more of a throbbing fire, if the truth is to be told. Your nipples seem to remember the previous evening’s activities as well because they immediately harden and stand at attention. And you can’t feel them yet but you’re pretty sure you have a few bruises, too. Ah well, you think as you yawn lazily, that’s what makeup is for.
You blink one eye open (it’s so bright in here!) and the first thing you encounter is a massive arm right next to your nose, tiny, golden hairs glinting in the sunlight. The second thing you see is Cal, on his belly and sans sheets or clothes, his lush and muscular bottom swelling above the white duvet beneath him. His adorable face is pressed into the pillow next to yours, dark curls swirling across his forehead and day’s worth of stubble dots his jaw. He feels your eyes on him, he’s only been snoozing for a bit, waiting for you two to wake up. He cracks one bright, blue eye open and stares back at you a moment. He senses a rush of what he feels everytime he sees you but this time it’s magnified by endearment and gratitude. Then, his face lights up, still smushed into the pillow and a massive, squinty grin splits his face. Your heart gives a funny little leap inside your chest and you find that your fingers are caressing his cheek softly, of their own volition and you resist the urge to kiss the little freckle under his mouth. He grabs your hand and kisses your fingertips, holding them to his warm lips as he smiles. And suddenly, any worry about things being weird has evaporated, as has any possibility of him being a third wheel. He just belongs.
“Hey! Quit making goo-goo eyes at my girl.” Austin’s gravelly morning voice rumbles from behind you playfully, and quick as lightning the arm still draped around your waist reaches over and smacks Callum’s ass, hard. The slap echoes around the room and you see the pale flesh of his bottom bounce and reverberate with the force of it. Cal, and his red, pillow creased face, jolts forward, yelling and jerking in the sheets, which in turn rubs his raw cock. This causes a chain reaction of events which results in him immediately pulling a sore muscle and flopping back down on the bed, moaning and rubbing his reddening backside.
“No fair, bruv,” he groans into the pillow. “That was too fuckin’ close to my balls.”
Austin chuckles and swats your ass gently for good measure. Slowly, everyone starts to shift and stir. First there are whines about soreness and muscles. Then about how sticky it all is. Then about who’s gonna order room service - but more pressingly, who’s gonna walk to the mini bar and grab a water. And then there’s an argument about who’s voice is less hoarse to call for the food - this ends up being you, hilariously. Then there’s moaning arguments about who is intact enough to wobble to the door and tip the server. In between massive amounts of doting and fretting over you, obviously. The boys are ever attentive, fluffing your pillows and making sure you’re comfortable while they feed you omelets and sausage and pancakes until your energy is restored. Over breakfast in bed, the arguments continue about who’s more bruised up - there’s a nasty bite mark on Cal’s collarbone but the fingerprints around Austin’s neck are a fair rival. There’s a panicked and very male discussion about emergency rooms when you admit you can barely move. But you manage to convince them that a nice, hot soak in the tub would do you wonders right about now. So Austin goes to draw you a bath while Callum helps you out of bed, wrapping a protective arm around your waist, and guiding you to the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later you’re starting to feel somewhat restored and a little more like yourself. The boys take turns showering, getting ready for the screening event later today. They go about it quietly though, almost reverently, leaving you to relax in peace. You turn the hot water on again, you’ve soaked so long it’s turning tepid but you’re not ready to relinquish this luxury. You ask Austin to bring you your makeup kit, eying the marks on both of them that need covering up. First Austin, then Callum, one after the other they kneel beside the tub in only their dress pants, chest and feet still bare. There are bruises and hickies and bite marks on clavicles and necks and wrists. Poor Callum, with his delicate, reactionary British skin has what looks like beard burn over half his chest and up the side of his throat. You turn sideways in the fancy clawfoot bathtub, gingerly dabbing concealer here and there, doing the best you can to cover up any evidence of last night's revels. Austin sits patiently, a towel underneath his knees to buffer the hard tile floor, and watches you with his kind, enigmatic ocean eyes. They’re distracting, those eyes, as they watch your face, every blink and every smile.
“What is it, Aus? Something on your mind?” you finally murmur, unable to take such naked contemplation any longer.
“You’re incredible, you know that?” He smooths the hair back from your forehead, rubbing a silky piece between his fingers. “I’m so lucky.”
Callum slouches against the doorway and lets out a quiet hum. “I think you mean we’re lucky, mate. The three of us.”
-
Pt 2 - The Three of Us: Brat Behavior
-
Tagging some Austin & Callum lovers I know: @jelliedonut @crazymadpassionatelove @elvisabutler @slowsweetlove @stylespresleyhearted @steph-speaks @blurredcolour @pearlparty
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afewfantasies · 8 months ago
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🗡️ꜰᴇʏᴅ'ꜱ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇ 🗡️ - I - Nightmares
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MASTERLIST
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.8K
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Feyd-Rautha X Reader
ᴘʟᴏᴛ: "Feyd-Rautha he's psychotic", at least thats what people say. Only, people forgot to add that your father's decided you were to marry. It's been over a decade and Feyd's committed to have the marriage and you with him as he ascends as heir and na-Baron of Geidi Prime.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: abduction, masterbation, voyeurism
🗡️ꜰᴇʏᴅ'ꜱ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇ 🗡️
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“Another one?” Your best friend and fellow Bene Gesserit sister asks as you wake in another cold sweat. Nodding you sit up in bed blinking through the darkness. Leia lights the lamp and a yellow glow shines into both of your faces. The first vision was a decade ago, you had been sleeping under the stars. Pale skin and a bald head. A large brute of a ban killed another. Then there was a boy clearly terrified but shaking with anger too. Black eyes, black teeth, pale skin, a temper. Year after year the visions became angrier, more psychopathic. Handing you materials Leia climbs into bed beside you and you begin your account of the vision.
“Will you tell the reverend mother?” She asks.
“Not yet” you confess ordering your thoughts and placing the coded message on the scroll. Leia watches in silence. This vision was in a black room probably on Geidi Prime. You were asleep on a larger black bed with four posts. You were asleep only to wake up to the black eyes looking down at you. He’d never spoken before but he’d said two words in the strangest grittiest words before. “You’re mine” unlike all the other dreams you felt him in the bed, felt the friction of him coming closer, felt his breath on your skin, the heat coming from his body.
“Are you alright?” Leia asks, handing me a glass of water.
“No” you confess as the two words haunt you. There’ve been all kinds of visions. Brutal murders, sick torture, murderous games with concubines, moments of tyrannical rage and now. Now he’d come for you. Stepping out of the bed you find solace in the coolness of the stone on your feet. Leia follows and you search your things for the herbs that dull your senses. It’s a necessity for sleep and reprieve. Since childhood you’d been careful not to share but as you’ve grown it’s only become clearer and clearer the subject of your dreams. He was tall, strong, angry, well off, psychotic and some would say handsome. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, the na-Baron and your original betrothed.
“What is it?” Leia asks.
“He’s coming for me mother must teach me the way” you say against your training with fear and foreboding.
——-
Feyd’s earliest memories were of you, he’d been with his father on your home planet looking into your cradle. Your mother was beautiful and your father kind. You were peaceful and little and he’d held you in his arms. He felt protective and during the commitment ceremony he’d meant every word. As a second son your world was promised to him. Even as a child the differences between your two cultures were glaring to him. The freedom to play and be a child, the kindness of the people and you was something to look forward to. But then Rabanne had murdered his father, and his mother had been indifferent and after a few years it enraged him to no end. In a fit of anger he’d killed her. Even with all of his concubines he’d never felt as peaceful as he had with you in his arms as a child. He’d stopped a genocide in your home world looking for you only to find your mother’s kind eyes fearing for her life. He’d done right by sending her to a peaceful planet instead of taking her life. He learned you had been taken by the Bene Gesserit sisters which meant you could be anywhere. No matter where,  he intended to find you.His heart felt like a displaced magnet. Angrier still was the fact that he imagined you living a full life without him. Unbothered, not tortured by the distance as he was, happy and serene. Still he could not disclose his search to anyone in fear for your life. He would have to move carefully to keep his commitment to you.
 Another planet, stepping off the ship he’s given respect by the procession awaiting his arrival. His heart races; he knows your close. Sticking earplugs into his ears he applies the fasteners having his guards to the same. No one would use the voice on him today. He moves quickly spilling no blood. He can feel you. He’s getting warmer. He can feel it. Moving quickly he heads down into the belly of the academy moving quickly through the bunkers. His heart pulls as he passes an entryway stopping when he has a familiar sensation. Heart racing violently against his chest he stops Turing to face the steel door, he stops breathing allowing the violence of his heartbeat to reverberate through him like a war drum. Feyd-Rautha signals for his men to wait outside. Using the code scrambler he gets into the door. Hiding you hold your breath ducking down into the thick of your clothes, the sound of the alarms system’s failure are blaring. Fear racks through you as you try to keep calm remembering the Bene Gesserit mantras. Fear is the mind killer. The noise stops and you relax a little waiting for an announcement. Heavy boots hit the floor forcing you to freeze, the steps come closer stopping in front of the closet. Leis screeches and its muffled, trembling you contemplate your next move. The steps come closer and you see the door open, light filters in. You cover your mouth hoping for safety until a black eye meets yours.  Familiarity and horror paralyze you. Pale skin and a bald head. The face from your nightmares. Feed-Rautha Harkonnen. Pinching yourself you discover he’s finally free’d himself from your dreams and is now material. He steps in separating the close from around you leaving you crouched against the wall with no cover before sitting on your bed and watching you like he has all the time in the world.. His smirk is unsettling and it takes a moment before you stand feeling silly and all too vulnerable crouched in the deep closet.
“Get dressed” he croaks but you’re shaking like a leaf. Snarling he procures robes from the closet placing one over your head. The trembling intensifies. And he steps back feeling rejected. Leaving he has his men pack up your things and then there’s a barrage of people asking you all sorts of questions from what you like to wear and eat and do and it’s all so much. You’re loaded onto a Harkonnen ship and placed in a room alone. Looking through the window you gaze into space. When a few hours have passed you hear the door open and know it’s him before it closes. He takes a seat in his leather robes. You turn to face the man who moves like a snake. He’s more terrifying in person than in your dreams. His eyes watch your every move drinking you in. Parting his lips and showing his black teeth.
“Are you comfortable?” His words come as a surprise. It’s the thing you’ve least expected. It takes a moment before you nod, trying not to be rude as you look around the room.
“Yes, thank you” you respond.
“We are heading to my home world. I understand you have different needs. The Mentats are sourcing food and clothes if there’s anything you need let them know” he explains sanely.
“Ok” you respond, your hands begin to shake again. You sit on them trying to hide the true fear you feel. House Harkonnen is known for many atrocities. 
“I’m sorry” you apologize, terrified and embarrassed.
“Do you know who I am?” He asks.
“A Harkonnen” you confess and his snake-like eyes look displeased.
“Do you know who I am to you?” He asks, forcing you to frown.
“Nothing” you respond only to regret it instantly. Feyd-Rautha takes a breath inflating his chest as he trembles with rage, the paleness of his skin flushing as searing anger bubbles to the forefront. He stands stepping back from you in fear of hurting you.
“My father and yours promised us to each other” his fierce voice cracks as he struggles for control. His terrifying blackened teeth make your eyes shut. He’d done terrible things to people, slight and then slash that's how it went. He was one with his knives and happy to use them. You wait for life to end, your breath to hutch and everything to fade into darkness but it doesn't happen. You hear boots hit the floor three times. Bravery, curiosity? Perhaps it was so quick and painless that this is purgatory? You open your eyes and see Feyd has given you more distance. He’s recalled his anger and he stands stoic, fierce and regal.
“Do you not remember?” He asks because that day had been so monumental to him.
“I had heard heard whispers but …” you trail considering the realities and the odds. Your visions, how you’ve been in hiding. Out of all the things they call him; liar isn’t one of them.You consider the possibilities and it comes to you. Your heart begins to race, you feel stinging in your thumb, like a pinprick. A commitment ceremony was held. The realization is dizzying. “You wish to be married?” You ask and he nods. “To me?” You specify and he nods again. “But I’m nobody from an extinct world. I’m not even a high ranking member of my order” you declare in truth.
“No, you will be na-Baroness Harkonnen” Feyd says, taking a step in your direction. He watches you try to make sense of it. He’d never considered your reaction to being found, he hadn't expected fear or reluctance. He expected your inherent trust in him for you to cling to him for support and comfort as you once did, for you to relish his touch and be most comfortable in his arms.
“na-Baroness” you whisper, looking up at him. Pride fills Feyd at the sound of the words coming from your lips, utter perfection.
“My wife” he rasps and somehow your fear seems unfounded. “I made a vow that I do not intend to break” Feyd says recalling you in his arms as a babe. Your eyes looking up at him without fear in your swaddling helpless, innocent, true and his. A knock at the door causes him to withdraw, he turns standing in front of you. The guard tries looking around to you until Feyd stomps a foot. The man averts his gaze telling Feyd your landing is imminent. Nodding he straightens his gown as he stands tall. Feyd-Rautha holds out a hand. You take it with a deep breath and it seems to amuse him. The heat of him feels familiar. “There will be a crowd, I will send you along in a pod” 
“With who?” You ask standing with him.
“My men” he specifies and it's unsatisfactory. Grabbing your head dress you place it on your head and move forward that way. You hold his hand he secures yours warmly walking at your side. You keep up with him and as the door descends you start to tremble. He stands in front of you as you try to overcome your fear. His eyes are reassuring, his strong hands gripping yours in solidarity. There's no weakness in him. He’s all strength, cunning, volatility, rage and psychopathy. His eyes urge you to get a grip but the roar of the welcome party is unnerving. Your fathers reign ended to a crowd. Soldiers came and there was shouting, there was cheering and you had no time to say goodbye before your mother put you into an escape pod with a scroll. You arrived at an outer planet to find out your father had been beheaded. It’s why you hate crowds to this day.
“Not today” he whispers motioning for someone to come get you. The roaring is violent and you follow them into a pod lighting up at the sight of Leia. The two of you embrace each other warmly. In moments you’ve deemed each other okay. The guards watch the two of you closely. Sitting beside her you take a moment to check the beauty mark on the inside of your thumb. It had been there as long as you could remember. You should be terrified by your current predicament, inadequate training, no  preparation, playing a part of an unsanctioned plot of sisterhood, at the mercy of perhaps the galaxy’s most unbalanced man. But he’d been nothing but reasonable thus far outside of your abduction. 
The cheers from the people are thunderous, they celebrate his return with conviction. Once outside the pods you become acquainted with the sprawling palace halls. Uneasiness fills you and your hand clasps Leia’s for comfort, something your guards eyes settle on. Saying nothing you follow behind him seeing a Mentat among your escort. You’re brought into a grand hall with a stately black stone table. Fresh colourful food is on one side while rare organic meat is on another, the sight of the bloody dishes and iron rich aroma sickens you and Leia.
“I wish to retire, I am exhausted” you declare unable to sit. The silent guard turns to you nodding. He motions for a Mentat to guide you and Leia to your quarters. You're separated from her after a long hug. Your room is far grander than your quarters at the academy. It has a familiar quality of the ones from your home world. The colours are less sterile, the hues less grey. Pulling open the drawers you find lush vibrant fabrics, the sort of robes you remember your mother wearing before the fall of your house. It's a strange thing. Turning you lean against the dresser puzzled by the days events and not nearly as scared as you should be.
Finished and energized by his warm reception Feyd-Rautha heads to the dining hall. He waits against the door when he hears no chatter. Bracing himself for anything he pushes open the doors to find the room empty with the exception of the Mentat and a few guards charged with your care.
“She wished to retire” the Mentat explains.
“Did she eat?” Fey’d asks.
“No” The Mentat responds. Feyd’s mood sours, settling into a rage, if it were anyone else he would have dragged them back out of the room, placed a collar around her neck and forced her to do as he pleased but it wasn't anyone, it was you. 
“Set the table in my quarters” he demands heading into his rooms. Undressing he removes his armour until all he has on are slacks and a tunic. Feyd dismisses his staff sitting at the table and pressing a button. A screen emerges from the wall with a wide panoramic view of your quarters on display. He watches you as he eats, watches you let your hair down from the ornate style of the Bene Gesserit sisterhood. He watches the sway of your hips as you go from room to room. He watches you admire the artwork that's been placed there. Feyd-Rautha watches you with pride and admiration, you weren't trying to run as far as he could see. He watches as you return to the sleeping chambers. He feels himself stiffen as he watches you undress, standing he drops the rare meat drawn to the screen with a crooked grin as you make your way to the cleansing chambers. The bounce of your breast, the softness of your skin, everything has him solid as stone. He watches you step in and the misting of water commence, the beads of water glisten on your skin, he zooms in to get a better view of you unguarded. The surprise in your expression as the automatic system goes through the washing ritual.
His thoughts are heinous and depraved, his need for dominance, ownership, acceptance and submission are more than he can take. Releasing his manhood from his plants he begins stroking it roughly. For the first time he doesn’t call his concubines to satisfy him. They would all fail miserably, no one but you would ever again, but this night he would have to do. He needed you so bad he felt desperate. Stroking himself faster he’s practically salivating as the chamber begins drying you, the way your hair blows, the surprise in your eyes, the suppleness of your skin. It takes everything in him to contain his hunger for you, control his passion, his need. He wanted to be inside you marking you, claiming you with his seed. Watching your expressions change as he takes you further and further into the pleasures of passion. You would be his wife soon enough. His hands would never leave your warm flesh. He would keep his manhood sheathed inside you training you well. Coming hard from his own fantasies Fed’s shallow breaths bring him to a stark realization. He would do anything to have you stop trembling at the sight of him, he’d try to be as patient as possible. He needed your submission, your acceptance of him, and he needed it to be real, to want to share his bed. Looking up at the screen he watches you dress in sheer bed robes. Climbing into the large bed he watches you find comfort in it. 
“You’re mine” he says to the screen as a promise.
🖤
Thank you so much for reading 🩶 let me know if you enjoyed, want to be added to the taglist or anything else on your mind 🩶 comment, like & reblog for more Feyd. xx
TAGS: @elf-punk @dvmb4ssbiatch @thegabbyh @fanfiction-addict22
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cherienymphe · 9 months ago
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There Will Be Blood
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Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Reader x Lady Margot Fenring
Summary: Knowing that you are too afraid to ever find yourself alone with the Harkonnen heir, Lady Margot secures his heart's desire for his celebration day.
warnings: Dub-Con (use of the voice), blood, knifeplay, choking, threesome, mentions of cannibalism, non canon ages, spoiler free
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies 
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“She looks almost good enough to eat,” were the words that reached your ears in that low timbre, head tilted as he gazed at you. “I don’t know whether to feed her to my darlings…”
The feeling of his finger underneath your chin was almost nonexistent as he tilted your head up. You were too anxious to look away—his reputation preceding him—and even if you wanted to, you couldn’t. You felt paralyzed, held captive by that dark blue gaze you swore was actually black as night in certain lighting.
“…or make her one of them.”
You swallowed at that, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes followed the subtle movement.
He was referring to his ‘pets’ as you knew he sometimes called them, the three strikingly beautiful Harkonnen women with an appetite for human flesh. The thought of being killed and fed to the women in question made your heart skip a beat…but the thought of being added to his harem made you shudder.
…and you couldn’t tell if the feeling was good or bad.
Hands slid over your shoulders from behind, making you shiver again, and your lashes fluttered at the feeling of soft lips grazing your throat. You faintly tried to remember how and why you ended up here, and you could only recall staring into enticing blue eyes. Her familiar face was all that stood out in your memory, features soft and lips curved into an even softer smile. With all of that being said though, you couldn’t remember your thought process behind following her perfect figure down the hall.
Lady Margot Fenring—golden-haired and willowy with that Bene Gesserit serene repose about her that you found subtly disturbing.
Usually.
In this moment, her calm disposition and quiet authority made your heart race. She was a comforting contrast to the man before you, his intense gaze and sharp features serving to make your imagination run wild with what he was capable of. He was so different from his brother, vastly so from his uncle, but he still possessed similarities with the two that made you nervous all the same.
Especially with his hand so close to your throat.
“This one isn’t for consumption.”
Her lips brushed your skin as her soft and even tone filled your ears.
“Not in the literal sense, at least…” mirth colored her voice at this remark. “I saw you watching her.”
Those words made your heart sink, and you were sure that the brief stab of fear you felt passed through your eyes.
Feyd-Rautha was psychotic. He was the kind of man that would kill someone solely because he felt like it. He had an animalistic stare that made alarm bells go off in your head, telling you to never take your eyes off of him—to always keep him in your line of sight. He was the kind of man you couldn’t let your guard down around.
He was the kind of man you didn’t want watching you.
As if he could read your worrisome thoughts, a glint passed through the man’s eyes, and he leaned in closer. Not one to conceal his feelings in any situation, his expression twisted into one of amusement, a sight that made your hair stand on end. Those soft hands slid over your shoulders and down your arms, gently caressing them.
Don’t be afraid.
A voice that didn’t sound like your own filled your mind, its influence settling into your bones and deep into the crevices of your subconscious. You felt yourself relax, felt the tension leaving you, and her soft hum had you leaning back into her chest. You didn’t want to be afraid, and you felt confident in repeating those words to yourself, confirming that there was nothing to be afraid of.
“You want her,” her fingers grazed your jaw, briefly touching his own. “…but she fears you far too much to ever find yourself alone with her.”
“I like them afraid.”
Those words made you blink, your lips parting at the sincerity in them. By the way he held your gaze, you could tell he wanted you to know he meant it, but that voice in your mind assured you that you had nothing to be afraid of. Not when he leaned in closer, and not when his hand traveled from your chin and down to circle your neck.
“You get too excited,” the blonde woman steadily told him, a hint of authority in her voice. “You would kill her.”
Her fingers on your jaw forced you to turn your head, making you look at her, and when she kissed you, you welcomed it. It was a comforting kiss, one that relaxed you further, and you couldn’t help but to close your eyes and bask in the feel of her lips touching yours. Your skin grew warm, and you touched her arm.
“I’m here to keep you in line.”
She spoke the words into your mouth, but she wasn’t talking to you.
Feyd-Rautha’s lack of protest or anger at her words gave you the impression that you were being included in something that already existed. He let her kiss you, the heat of his gaze burning a hole into the side of your face as she drew you in closer. The feeling in your chest was both light and heavy, and you felt as if you couldn’t get close enough to her.
Lady Margot had an aura about her that you’d always been ensnared by—the way she talked, the way she swayed when she walked, and especially the way those attentive eyes watched everyone and everything so closely. She smelled fresh and crisp, an airy feminine aroma filling your nose as her hand rested on the side of your throat, Feyd-Rautha’s arm long falling back at his side.
When she pulled away, only the tip of her nose lightly touched yours.
“He wants you to touch him.”
Her voice reverberated in your mind, influencing your thoughts and movements, and you found yourself turning to look at the man in question. Your advance was slow, hesitant in reaching out to place your hands on the black fabric of his shirt. He visibly shuddered at the contact, and despite the fact that you were clothed, you felt vulnerable and naked underneath his intense gaze.
“This one is fragile, Feyd-Rautha,” amusement danced around her words. “You have to play gentle if you want to keep her.”
Almost as if he wanted to defy her, his hand quickly wrapped itself around your throat, forcing you closer. Your heart stuttered at the action, and despite that brief bout of adrenaline—your body’s way of telling you that you were in danger—that influential voice in your mind told you that you were safe. Your breathing was shallow as you looked at him with wide eyes.
His own gaze traveled over your form, his perusal slow and his hand tightening. You reached up, grabbing his arm, and the noise of protest he made was a cross between a grunt and a hum. His nose touched yours, and when he spoke again, it sounded like there was gravel in his throat.
“Do you fear me?”
The thought settled in your mind that he wanted you to say yes, and so you did, barely whispering it.
That pleased him, and he presented you with a terrifying smile. His fingers were pressing into the skin of your neck, and his blue gaze studied yours, eyes flickering between your own. There was a carnal excitement there that told you he lusted for more than just your body, and when you winced at the grip he had on your throat, it only grew.
“Good,” he praised in a guttural tone.
Kissing Feyd-Rautha was nothing like kissing Lady Margot.
It wasn’t meant to be a gentle and comforting experience, but instead one that forced you to face every one of your discomforts head on. His teeth pressing into your lips, his hand cutting off your airway, the lack of warning as he pushed you back. Every action was designed to make you squirm, and despite that feeling, heat still settled in the pit of your stomach as his weight pressed down on you.
Lady Margot’s gentle touch made your leg tingle. She was pulling on it, making room for him while her other hand grabbed your arm, and you shuddered at the feel of her lips kissing a path to your wrist. The contrast in their efforts made your head spin, and Feyd-Rautha’s constricting grip on your throat only disappeared when his lips replaced his hand instead.
Pain blossomed beneath where his teeth were, and you gasped, chest arching up into his involuntarily. His hands on your frame were tense, like he wanted to twist and tear you apart, but something disallowed him from doing so. When he kissed you again, the pain in your neck lingered, flaring from spot to spot, and you didn’t doubt that bruises would be there.
When you were forced to sit up, the soft and thin fabric of your dress was pulled at by two sets of hands. A feminine touch loosened the back, her lips following behind where his once were, soothing the irritated skin there. He, on the other hand, was yanking your sleeves down, and the sound of a slight tear or two in the fabric could be heard.
The cold air hit you for half a second before a warm mouth covered a sensitive bud before it even had time to harden. The sharp feeling of his teeth pressing into the skin of your breast made you shy away, but with Lady Margot at your back, you had nowhere to go. Her lips along your neck and shoulder was a welcomed feeling, a soothing contrast against the pain the Harkonnen man was inflicting. It almost faded to the background completely when her hand found its way between your thighs.
Your lips parted, and your lashes fluttered, and you couldn’t help but to lift your hips. Her fingers were soft against your skin, the appendages sliding between your folds and stroking you. One of your hands reached down to rest on hers, riding along with her ministrations while the other reached up to grip the arm of the man intent on breaking skin.
The feel of Lady Margot’s fingers pushing into you and curving against your walls made you circle your hips.  The pain and pleasure were starting to blend together so closely that you couldn’t tell what you liked and didn’t like. His teeth scraping down your torso had your breath hitching, and the Bene Gesserit woman behind you hummed when you clenched around her fingers. It sounded like a noise of approval, and when she spoke, her tone and words confirmed that suspicion.
“She likes that,” she mused, her free hand coming up to run over your chest. “She’s starting to like the pain.”
She was right.
Almost as if that triggered something in him, the blue-eyed man relinquished control completely, fingers digging into the tops of your thighs as he pulled you forward. The action caused you to collapse, your head resting in Lady Margot’s lap as he finished removing your dress, the fabric falling around you in tatters. There was only a brief bout of alarm when he brandished a small blade from his waist.
There was that voice again, settling and taking up residence in your mind, telling you not to be afraid.
Pain flared along your skin in a singular path as the tip of the blade just barely grazed your flesh. It was so sharp that a thin line of blood followed the weapon’s descent, but it was gone as quickly as it came as his tongue slipped past his lips, ingesting your essence and soothing that sting. Your eyes closed, and you welcomed her kiss as she leaned over.
Feyd-Rautha’s own lips kissed you too…just before he sank his teeth into your skin.
You were given bites and nips between the kisses—along your hip and along your thighs and eventually in between your thighs. Your hips lifted, and your back arched, and you unintentionally bit Lady Margot’s lip. She smiled into the kiss, and you knew that she could taste the same blood you felt on your own tongue.
Feyd-Rautha was a mad man between your legs, tongue and teeth playing with you, the blade in his hand pressed against your thigh. The soles of your feet pressed into the bed, wanting to both run away from the pain and run towards it. Every shallow cut made into your skin was soothed by his tongue almost immediately, and you wanted to be embarrassed by how wet their combined ministrations made you.
When you found yourself on your knees, the blade at your throat and his naked chest at your back, you could see the way Lady Margot’s gaze held his. Her face was serene and thoughtful, almost as if she were having a silent conversation with the man at your back. The sharpness of his blade drew blood, and by the way his free hand smeared it along your skin, you knew that it turned him on.
“Gentle,” she reminded him, standing.
He wasn’t so gentle when he pushed his way into you, making you sharply inhale, but the blade remained light against your throat. You tilted your head back, both to relieve the sting and because the feel of his cock sliding into you had you submitting. His own deep grunts were right at your ear, and his bloody hand trailed down your frame to roughly knead into your skin.
The sound of skin slapping against skin made your ears twitch, and when he roughly pushed you down with a hand on your back, your fingers twisted into the sheets of the luxurious bed. Your head was bowed, forehead grazing the fabric as he fucked you, power and aggression driving every thrust. Lady Margot was right, you were afraid of the Baron’s sole heir, positive that you’d never find yourself alone with him before today.
Even if you doubted it, you would have never guessed this is how he’d choose to spend his birthday celebration. While fireworks were exploding and food and drink was being passed around, Feyd-Rautha was spending his time burying his cock in you. His fingers twisted painfully into your hair, making you yelp, and the sound only made him fuck you harder.
“Are you still afraid of me?” he roughly asked you, and when you started to nod, he pushed your face down into the bed.
Understanding what he wanted, you managed to force out a small affirmation.
“Yes,” you choked out.
The low laugh that he let out was menacing, and he was aggressive in pushing you onto your back. His hand was tight when it found a home on your throat, pinning you in place as he snapped his hips into yours. The force was enough to make you wince, and his brutal treatment didn’t go unnoticed, the blonde woman coming up behind the man.
Her gaze found yours, holding it as she whispered something into his ear that yours weren’t privy to. Her beautiful hands came around to slide along his smooth chest, her lips still brushing against his ear. Her lips traveled to his throat as he pulled away from you, pulling out and allowing the other woman to guide him to sit back.
He was uncharacteristically still as he watched her take his place.
“Come.”
Her simple command was impossible to disobey, and you sat up, doing as she said. With a hand on the back of your head, she guided you towards the man, an imposing urge to touch him descending over you. With your hands sliding along his lithe frame, her fingers applied pressure, and your head lowered.
Your lips stretched around him as you tasted his cock, tongue flat and cheeks hollowed. Feminine hands were gliding over your curves, fingers eventually sinking into you again. You closed your eyes at the feel, relaxing and heart calming at the 180 from Feyd-Rautha’s earlier brutality. At the thought of him, you peeled your eyes open, looking up at him from beneath your lashes.
It amazed you, how he could be so dominant and forceful with you but so obedient and almost subdued with her. With one look into his eyes or the feel of her hands against his skin, he became a momentarily tamed wild animal. The feral glint in his eyes couldn’t be done away with, the desire to cause pain coloring his features whenever his gaze connected with yours.
As Lady Margot gently curved her fingers into you, you found yourself craving that feeling again.
Your neck and torso still faintly stung from where his blade had drawn blood, and you got the feeling that your skin was already starting to bruise from where he’d tightly held you. You recalled her earlier words, about her presence serving to keep him in line, and your mind lingered on the aches you felt from what he’d done while she was here. You wondered what would be in store for you should he ever get you completely alone.
You suspected that she was right.
He would get too excited…and probably kill you.
When his lips curved into a small smirk, you knew then that your thoughts were written on your face—along with your fear. His hand on your head made you nervous, and still you slid your mouth up and down the length of him. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs, Lady Margot’s soft ministrations stroking that fire deep within your stomach. It made you moan around him, and if possible, you swore Feyd-Rautha’s eyes darkened at both the sound and feel.
“She would make a well-behaved pet,” he haughtily said.
The way he stared into your eyes told you that was meant more so for you than her. They both shifted, leaning in and you heard them kiss above your head.
“I knew that you would enjoy her,” the blonde woman confidently said, her even tone unable to hide her satisfaction. “Provided you don’t break her.”
When she pulled away, she pulled away from you too, and with a hand on your chin, she lifted your head. She guided you to kiss him, her own lips resting against your cheek, her soft voice telling you not to be afraid. You wanted to listen, your own mind agreeing, and so you welcomed the pain when blood bloomed along your lips.
Feyd-Rautha enjoyed the taste, roughly grabbing your hands and pinning them behind you at the small of your back. He didn’t tell you to lie down, instead making you, and you winced at the feel of your hands trapped beneath your own body. His lips were stained red when he pulled away, and your mouth parted into an ‘O’ shape when the head of his cock started to stretch you out again.
You were completely powerless—at his mercy—and you cried out at the rough curve of his hips. He looked vicious above you, focused not on chasing his high but on seeing the register of pain on your face instead. That was what brought him pleasure, watching you wince and squirm beneath him and his intense thrusts. If his hand wasn’t on your throat then it was yanking your hair or digging into the soft flesh of your breast.
He seemed to like the sight of marking you up whether it be with his teeth or his hand…or that blade.
He held it against your throat while he fucked you, sometimes sliding the flat part down your chest, blue eyes transfixed by the metal pressing against your skin. Occasionally he’d turn it, the edge grazing you, making a cut just shallow enough and then he’d lean down to taste you. Spots of his own flesh was marred by your blood, and he obviously didn’t care as he smeared it over both of you with every movement.
With your hands free, you clutched onto the sheets, eyes rolling into the back of your head. His hands were painfully tight on your waist, keeping your hips lifted for him as he thrust into you. Lady Margot—silently and appreciatively watching—slid her hands along the bed to grab your hands. Her fingers intertwined with your own, holding them down, and you welcomed the gentle kisses she placed on your wrists and then your cheek before finally your lips.
The man above you made a noise of disapproval, and after some time, she granted him what he wanted, his own rough lips replacing hers. You panted into the kiss, tasting your blood on his lips, and you felt almost delirious. It was a constant cycle of pain and pleasure that had you chasing him when he started to pull away. The laugh he gave at the sight told you his thoughts on the matter, but you didn’t care how much power you were giving him.
His gaze suddenly lifted, and his thrusts didn’t stop as he faced Lady Margot. You felt hypnotized as you watched them, eyes focused on the way Feyd-Rautha stuck out his tongue, elongating it in a way you didn’t think possible. The willowy woman had let you go, taking his own blade and dragging the edge of it down his tongue.
It was then that you realized the man inside of you enjoyed pain almost as much as he liked inflicting it.
You wondered if that was why he was so submissive towards her, why she could order him around and why she was so confident that she could keep him in line. You were unsurprised when they kissed, the brutal man kissing you after a while when they finally parted. You swore that his blood tasted completely different from your own.
A thin layer of sweat coated your skin, and you felt almost completely spent. You were sure that the celebration of his birth was still being had while he chose to celebrate between your legs. His strength and the knowledge of how easily he could snuff you out played a part in the way you clenched around his cock. You could feel that you were close—and so could he.
His hand completely obstructed your breathing, and you could only hold onto his wrist. With every thrust into your cunt, the heat in the pit of your stomach grew. Your heart was racing, and your eyes struggled to remain open, and your toes curled as he stretched you around him. A noise of appreciation reached your ears, and for a moment you wondered if he was going to snap your neck.
He could do it. The strength in his hand told you so and that he would probably barely exert himself doing so. You felt your neck strain underneath his fingers, and your nails drew blood over his skin. You knew he liked that because he kissed you again. Your shallow breaths hit his face, and just as you were on the verge of passing out, you came.
…and his hold loosened.
The rush of air into your lungs coinciding with the release of pressure inside of you made your world momentarily go dark. All you could feel was the snug fit of his cock—and the way your walls fluttered around it—and his teeth against your lip. You could faintly feel softer hands on your face, and a choked moan left your lips his hips continued to connect with yours.
His hand tightened again just as your vision started to return to you, and the smile you were met with was chilling. So turned on by watching you straddle death, the fearsome fighter came too but much more violently. He practically growled above you, the noise so animalistic and inhumane sounding. Your neck almost cracked beneath the force of his hand, and the overstimulation from the feel of his cock made you want to clench your thighs together.
You were struggling to breathe when he stilled, chest burning, and when he roughly let you go—pushing himself away from you—you gasped for air. You turned on your side, sweaty and bloody and feeling like you couldn’t breathe deep enough. A hand smoothed along the side of your face—a feminine hand—and when you looked up, the blue-eyed man was cleaning his blade with a crooked smile, terrifying teeth on display.
“I think I will keep this one.”
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austinswife · 2 months ago
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‘DUNE 3’ AND BABY BUMP — Austin Butler
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SYPNOSIS: Austin Butler and his wife, Y/N, have just wrapped filming on Dune 3 together, where they played intense and compelling roles—Austin as the menacing Feyd Rautha, and Y/N as one of his captivating consorts. The two, now parents to their newborn daughter Wren, join The Graham Norton Show alongside Dune producer Barbara Sanderson to discuss their experience making the movie. As they reveal intimate behind-the-scenes moments, including how Y/N filmed while pregnant and concealed her growing bump, the conversation takes a funny and heartfelt turn. Between Austin’s protective instincts on set, the crew’s humorous attempts to safeguard the baby bump, and the secret they kept from their fans, the interview showcases the couple’s love, their chemistry, and the unforgettable memories they made while working together.
WARNING(S): Mentions of pregnancy, humor and lighthearted conversations, discussions of intimate scenes in a playful way, fluff.
𝜗𝜚 ALL FEEDBACKS, IDEAS SUGGESTION — TO AUSTINSWIFE
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divider by @/chilumitos
The soft hum of excited chatter filled the studio of The Graham Norton Show as the audience eagerly awaited the next segment. It was a particularly star-studded episode, featuring the much-anticipated stars of Dune 3. As the cameras prepared to roll, Graham himself sat ready at his desk, glancing through his notes and smiling at the mention of the guests he would soon welcome to the stage. He knew this was going to be a fun interview—he could feel it.
“And now,” Graham said with his trademark charm as the show returned from its commercial break, “please give a warm welcome to the stars of Dune 3—Austin Butler, Y/N Y/L/N, and the producer of the Dune series, Barbara Sanderson!”
The applause erupted as Austin, dressed in a sleek, perfectly tailored black suit, walked hand in hand with you, his wife and co-star, Y/N. You radiated elegance in a soft, flowy dress that accentuated your post-pregnancy glow. Behind you, Barbara Sanderson, the producer, strode confidently onto the stage, smiling broadly at the adoring crowd.
Once the three of you were seated on the famous red couch, Graham leaned in, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, look at you two! Fresh from the intergalactic battles of Dune 3 and straight into parenthood. Congratulations on the birth of your daughter, Wren Butler!”
The applause filled the room once again as you and Austin exchanged a warm look, his hand gently squeezing yours.
“Thank you so much,” you said, beaming. “She’s been an absolute joy, and we’re really loving being new parents.”
Austin nodded in agreement, his face lighting up at the mention of Wren. “Yeah, it’s been incredible. She’s such a sweet baby.”
Graham leaned forward with that ever-curious expression, already knowing the direction he wanted to take the conversation.
“Now, I have to ask—Dune 3 is quite an intense film. I mean, it’s the culmination of this epic sci-fi saga, and the two of you play some pretty heavy roles. Austin, you’re Feyd Rautha, the ruthless antagonist, and Y/N, you’re one of his darlings. There are some... well, let’s call them intimate scenes between the two of you, aren’t there?”
The audience chuckled as Austin smirked, his hand still resting protectively on your knee. You shared a quick glance with him, both of you clearly in on the joke.
“Oh yeah,” Austin drawled, flashing that signature half-smile of his. “Feyd Rautha doesn’t do subtle.”
Graham laughed and nodded. “No, I don’t think subtle is in his vocabulary. But there’s been a lot of speculation, Y/N, because—correct me if I’m wrong—were you actually pregnant while filming those scenes?”
The room seemed to hold its breath as the question hung in the air, and the audience collectively leaned forward in their seats. You grinned, glancing at Austin for a beat before answering.
“Yes, it’s true—I was pregnant while filming Dune 3,” you admitted, laughing softly as the crowd gasped in surprise. “In fact, I found out early on, but I was lucky because my bump didn’t really show much until I was about eight or nine months pregnant. So by the time we were filming those scenes, I had a tiny bump, but only Austin and the crew knew!”
The audience erupted into laughter and applause, clearly charmed by your candid admission. Graham’s eyes widened, clearly intrigued.
“So let me get this straight—you were filming these intense, steamy scenes with Feyd Rautha while pregnant with Austin’s baby?”
You nodded, laughing even harder. “Yep! I was carrying his baby the whole time during that scene where I’m, well... not wearing much. Talk about method acting!”
Austin, trying to hold back his laughter, chimed in. “Yeah, it was pretty surreal, to be honest. We’d be in the middle of a scene where I’m supposed to be all intense and villainous, and then as soon as they called ‘cut,’ I’d go straight into husband mode—‘Are you okay? Do you need anything? How’s the baby?’”
The audience burst into laughter again as you playfully nudged Austin, smiling affectionately. “He was the most overprotective co-star I’ve ever had,” you teased. “But honestly, it was really sweet. He and the entire crew were so supportive. I felt like I had a whole army of people making sure I was comfortable.”
Barbara Sanderson, the producer, who had been quietly enjoying the banter so far, spoke up with a fond smile. “I think it’s safe to say that once we found out Y/N was pregnant, the entire atmosphere on set shifted. Everyone became so protective of her. I remember one day when we were filming a particularly physical scene, and I swear, at least five people rushed to her side with pillows and blankets the moment we finished shooting.”
Graham’s eyes widened in mock disbelief. “Pillows and blankets on a Dune set? Sounds like a far cry from the sandworms and desert storms of Arrakis!”
You laughed, nodding. “It was so funny! I felt like I was wrapped in bubble wrap half the time. And the funny part is that I felt completely fine—like, I wasn’t really showing much, and I wasn’t feeling sick or anything, but everyone was treating me like I was about to go into labor at any moment.”
Austin grinned, clearly loving the memory. “Yeah, I remember one scene where you had to lie down on this really uncomfortable-looking floor, and before I could even say anything, someone was already there with a pillow, fluffing it up for you. It was like, ‘Alright, guys, she’s tough—she can handle it.’”
Barbara laughed, nodding in agreement. “We did get a little overzealous, I’ll admit. But when your co-star is carrying a baby, you do tend to get a bit overprotective!”
Graham leaned back in his chair, thoroughly entertained. “So, Austin, how was it for you knowing that your co-star—who also happens to be your wife—was pregnant with your child during these scenes? Was it difficult to stay in character?”
Austin scratched the back of his neck, a playful grin crossing his face. “Well, let’s just say it added a whole new layer to things. I mean, there’s Feyd Rautha—this brutal, ambitious character—and then there’s me, Austin, who’s just trying to make sure my wife and our baby are okay. So yeah, it was definitely a bit of a challenge to switch back and forth.”
The audience chuckled at his honesty, and Graham leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I can only imagine! And I have to ask, did the fans pick up on any of this? Because if your bump wasn’t really showing until later, I imagine it must have been quite the surprise when you finally announced your pregnancy.”
You nodded, a knowing smile on your lips. “Yeah, we managed to keep it pretty low-key. I think most fans didn’t notice anything at all. I wore a lot of loose costumes, and the camera angles were really clever. It wasn’t until after filming wrapped, and we announced Wren’s birth, that people were like, ‘Wait, you were pregnant during all of that?!’”
Graham shook his head in disbelief. “Incredible. And now you’ve got a beautiful daughter. How is Wren doing?”
Austin’s expression softened immediately at the mention of his daughter. “She’s amazing. She’s the happiest little baby, always smiling. We feel really lucky.”
“She’s been a dream,” you added, your voice full of warmth. “And we’re just so grateful for how everything worked out. Filming Dune 3 while pregnant was definitely a unique experience, but now that we have Wren, it all feels even more special.”
Graham smiled, clearly touched by the couple’s love for their daughter. “Well, it sounds like a labor of love—no pun intended.”
The audience laughed again, and Graham leaned in with a teasing glint in his eye. “Before we wrap things up, I have one more question, because the Dune fans will absolutely want to know—were you ever shy filming those intimate scenes with Feyd Rautha, knowing you were pregnant?”
Y/N smirked, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Shy? Not at all! I mean, I was literally pregnant with his baby while filming those scenes. By that point, I was more worried about not tripping over cables on set or staying awake between takes."
The audience erupted in laughter, their amusement filling the room. Austin grinned, his arm draped comfortably behind you as he chuckled.
"Yeah, when you're both trying to stay in character and simultaneously making sure you're not stepping on your wife's dress or her tiny baby bump, 'shyness' kind of takes a backseat."
Graham, always quick to lean into the humor, smiled wide. "It does add a whole new dimension to 'intimate scenes,' doesn’t it?"
Barbara, who had been watching with an amused expression, nodded. "Oh, absolutely. I remember one of the costume designers coming up to me, stressing about how to hide the bump, and I just said, 'Embrace it. If anyone asks, we’ll say it’s all part of the world-building.’"
The audience roared with laughter, and you chimed in, still laughing. "Honestly, the bump was so small that for most of the filming, it was our little secret. But by the end, I think some people on set were like, 'Wait a minute...'"
Austin playfully nudged you, shaking his head. "It’s amazing how you kept it under wraps for so long. By the time your bump did start to show, it was like an Easter egg for the crew. Everyone was tiptoeing around it."
Graham leaned forward, still grinning. "So the fans were completely in the dark until you announced Wren’s birth?"
"Pretty much," you confirmed. "We didn’t want to make a big public announcement during filming. It was such a special time for us, and we really just wanted to keep it between us and our closest friends and family."
Graham nodded, clearly touched. "It sounds like you handled it beautifully. And I think I speak for everyone when I say it’s wonderful to see you two sharing this moment, both in your careers and in your lives together."
The audience applauded again, the warmth in the room palpable. Austin turned to you with a soft smile, his hand gently squeezing yours as he spoke. "It’s been an amazing journey, both in terms of Dune 3 and our life as a family. We feel really lucky."
You smiled back at him, your heart full as you took in the supportive energy of the room. "We do. And honestly, Wren’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect. She arrived right after we finished filming, like she was waiting for her cue."
Graham laughed, clapping his hands together. "A born performer already! Watch out, Hollywood!"
The light-heartedness of the moment allowed everyone to bask in the happiness that radiated from the two of you. Even Barbara, normally so focused and professional, seemed to be swept up in the magic of the interview. "It’s rare to have this kind of chemistry on set," she said thoughtfully. "Austin and Y/N brought so much more to their roles than just acting. There was a real connection, and I think it showed in every scene."
Graham glanced between you and Austin, raising an eyebrow. "Speaking of chemistry, what’s it like acting opposite your husband in a movie like Dune? Is it hard to separate the personal from the professional?"
You laughed lightly, tilting your head toward Austin. "Honestly? Sometimes yes, and sometimes no. There were moments where it was challenging to stay in character, especially when he’d shoot me a look, and I’d know exactly what he was thinking, which usually had nothing to do with the scene."
Austin chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, it definitely keeps things interesting. You’ll be in the middle of this intense, dramatic moment, and then one of us will break character for a split second, and it’s hard not to laugh. But I think, ultimately, working together was really rewarding. We pushed each other in ways I don’t think we would have with anyone else."
Graham smiled warmly, clearly charmed by the dynamic between the two of you. "It sounds like a real partnership, both on and off screen."
"It really is," you said softly. "We’ve always supported each other’s careers, and Dune 3 gave us the chance to take that support to a whole new level. Filming while pregnant, working through those intense scenes together—it’s all made us stronger as a couple and as parents."
Austin nodded, his expression filled with pride. "Yeah, we’ve been through a lot together, and this experience just solidified how much we’ve got each other’s backs."
Graham looked genuinely moved. "That’s beautiful. And now you’ve got Wren, this incredible new chapter in your lives. What’s next for you both? More movies together? More babies?"
The audience laughed, and you couldn’t help but join in. "Well, we’re definitely taking some time off to focus on Wren right now. But who knows? If the right project comes along, we might just team up again. As for more babies..." You glanced at Austin with a playful smile. "We’ll see!"
Austin grinned, raising his eyebrows mischievously. "One day at a time, Graham."
Graham shook his head, laughing. "Well, whatever the future holds, I’m sure it’s going to be amazing. Thank you both so much for sharing your story, and congratulations again on Wren and the success of Dune 3."
As the audience clapped and the lights dimmed for the final moments of the segment, you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you. Sitting there with Austin, reflecting on the incredible journey you’d shared, you couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something even greater.
As you left the stage, Austin’s arm wrapped around your waist, you exchanged a look that said more than words ever could. From co-stars to husband and wife, from actors to parents, your shared adventure was far from over. Whether on-screen or off, you knew that whatever came next, you’d be facing it together.
And as for Wren? Well, maybe one day, she'd get her own starring role.
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part 2? maybe
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voxmortuus · 5 months ago
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⇘ PAIRING:⇙ Dom!Benny Cross x Sub!F!Reader
⇘ UNIVERSE:⇙ The Bikeriders
⇘ WORD COUNT:⇙ 3k
⇘ SUMMARY:⇙ Seems you've found yourself in a rather unique situation. You've known Benny for a long while, but you always felt a little out of his league, whatever league that may be, it just didn't feel like you were good enough for him. The thing is, you're just what he's looking for. You've got a lot of love to give, a heart on your sleeve, and a loyalty that is stronger than a dog. He wants you, but he wants you specifically. He wants you to be his old lady, he wants you to be his ride or die. Once he gets you alone though, the patches stay on, and things get a little far from vanilla.
⇘ TRIGGER WARNINGS:⇙ Fluff | Language | Smoking | Smut | Some BDSMesque Scenes | Dom!Benny | Kissing | Face Smacking | Boot on Face | Hair Pulling | Fingering | Hand job | Oral (M) | Face fucking | Guided Masturbation | Benny Masturbating | Begging | Facial | These are in no particular order! PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this…
⇘ NOTES:⇙ I hope this brings you some joy.
⇘ DIVIDER CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa
⇘ IMAGE CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa
⇘ My Master Masterlist ⇙
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Was it happenstance, or was it planned that he happened to show up today? Handing the beer over the counter, you lean against the bar, and you smile the sweetest smile you've got in you.
"Well shit, if it ain't Benny Cross. How long has it been?" You asked. Benny looked up at you as he walked in, giving you that same crooked grin he always walked around with. He gave a slight chuckle.
"Well, no shit. It's been, what, almost 7 years?" He asked you. You nod your head and chuckle a bit.
"Yeah, somethin' like that." you smirk and look down at the bar top.
It had been what feels like forever. It feels like you haven't seen him in ages, and truth be told, it had been ages. Seven whole ages, as a matter of fact. Smirking, he looks over you as he approaches the bar. Looking over his face, you smile, and a soft blush graces your cheeks, causing you to feel warm. Letting out a soft, shaky breath, you glance around, realizing that no one else was there in the bar, but you knew that wasn't going to last too long. How do you even say what you think you need to say. You groan, and you sigh and decide not to say anything.
As the night went on, the two of you mingled and caught up. He learned quite a bit about you, just as much as you learned about him. You learned quite a bit, and he learned just as much. However, you learned something that he didn't tell you either, he had always liked you. Well fuck. Upon closing up the bar, you look at him and shake your head.
"Benny, I've always had a thing for you. I always thought you were too good for me. Outta my fuckin league." you state honestly.
Benny stopped and stared at you. "Outta my league? No, no. I felt you were outta mine. Let me ask you this... you still want me?"
"I've always wanted you... that never changed, never after all these years." you admit.
He looks at you and runs his hand over his face. Nodding his head, he looks back toward the door. Looking back at you, he walks to the door and locks it. "Come here." he points to the ground in front of him.
Lifting a well-manicured and well-defined brow, you walk to him and stand in front of him. You look over that face, that handsome, perfectly chiseled face, and you lose yourself all over again. Why? Why, when you are around him, he makes you feel so... weak. He makes you feel so... dead-brained.
Walking to you, he sticks a finger under your chin and forces you to look up at him. A thought crosses his mind, an urge.
"I want you to prove to me how much you want me." He tells you, his voice drops an octave as he watches you.
"How do you want me to do that Benny? Just say the word and you got it." You state.
"Strip, then lay flat, face down on the floor." He states.
Okay, so that was NOT what you had expected. Blinking a few times, you don't hesitate, and you do just that. Stripping down, you fold your clothes and place them to the side, and you lower yourself to the floor. Biting your lower lip, you listen as he paces around you, observing you, taking in your figure, your heartbeat picks up in anticipation as you watch his boots come into view, and he stops and looks down at you.
Benny lights a cigarette and takes a long drag from it. Watching you as you lay there, he runs his free hand through his hair and then over his facial hair for a moment. Smirking, he takes a few steps closer to you and kneels down a moment, a hand dangling between his legs.
"So, you've gone this whole time not sayin anything. All because you felt I was out of your league... You know Darlin' if you had said anything, you may have learned a thing or two about how I felt. Maybe you need to be punished for that, huh? Teach you how to speak your mind? Make you beg for my attention now?" he stated.
Why did that make your cunt tingle? Make you hot? And why the fuck did that sound like such a good idea coming from him? You nod softly.
"No, I want you to say it." He stated firmly as he took a drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke bellow above him as he exhaled.
"Yes. Punish me, teach me to speak my mind... make me... beg." You state. Your eyes look at his boots, and your fingers press into the floor as they are stretched out to your sides.
Standing up, he looks ahead of him, out the window of the bar, and smirks. He leans against the pool table, thinking of ways to punish you. Looking at your figure as you are sprawled out against the floor, so many things come to mind.
Standing back up from leaning, he pushes himself from the pool table and walks to you. He places his right boot on the side of your head. Not stepping, but applying just enough pressure for it to feel -- oddly comfortable. Your fingers press into the floor as you gasp. Why are you feeling this right now? Feeling these... feelings push through your thoughts. You bite your lip, and you let out a slow breath.
"Now, I've been thinking, since walking into this place, since we started talking, reminiscing about the past. I have been thinking about how things could go. About how we could have been together this whole time. But now, now I see the kind of girl you really are. I won't lie, Darlin'... kinda revs me up a bit. Eager to please." he mused a moment.
Looking down at you, he tilts his head, a sight for sore eyes, and fuck did he enjoy the view. Licking his lips, he took another drag from his smoke before he reached over to a close by table and tapped the ashes into an ashtray he had. With your head under his boot, he looks over the rest of your body. Leaning over with a smoke between his lips, his fingers run down the length of your spine. Feeling your flesh under his fingers.
"Soft to the touch." he pointed out.
Standing back up, he moved away from you, leaving you to bite your lip and almost ask for more. But instead, he reached down, grabbed your hair, and moved you to a standing position. You guided yourself with ease, and there was this deeper part of you that also enjoyed that. "What is wrong with me?" you asked yourself.
Moving you to sit in a chair, he spreads your legs apart. Looking over you, he licks his lips.
"Hands on your thighs, don't move them." He demands.
You nod in agreement. He wasn't going to demand the 'Sir' word just yet, but holy fuck was he going to enjoy it when it happened.
"Now I'm going to ask you a question, either say yes or say no. It's that simple. Got it?"
"Yes. I understand."
"Good. I'm going to hurt you, but it's not because I want to hurt you, it's because well... I want to see you in a different light, and because I enjoy it. Do you consent?" he looks over your face.
Taking a moment to understand, you've read some raunchy trashy books, so you knew not to compare the two, you weren't that naïve. You draw in a breath and you nod. "Yes. I consent." you finally state.
With a smirk across his lips, he nods. "Good girl. So long I've wanted to do this to you." He stated as he put his smoke out.
Walking behind the bar, he went to wash his hands, took a swig off a whiskey bottle, and made his way back toward you. Standing in front of you, he tilts his head. With a firm hand, he looks at you and throws it across your face. At first, you gasp, you close your eyes, your head whipped to the side. You whimper, not sure how to feel about it. You look to the ground, but he takes your chin and forces you to look back at him, and he smiles. Giving you a wink, and that's when you feel this sense of calm wash over you. It's like this switch was flipped in your mind. Submissive mode on... more so than before.
You didn't dislike the feeling on your skin, a hot sting. He brought his hand back, and it met your face again. Quickly moving to grab your chin, he leaned in and kissed your lips softly.
"Atta girl." he praised.
You felt this bubble of excitement rise inside you. It was this rush that moved through your veins like a hot liquid. Bubbling at the surface, wanting more.
"More, please." You ask.
He was happy to oblige. A little harder, be clipped your lip, but you didn't mind. The coppery taste on your tongue was sort of pleasant, a welcomed gift. You smile looking up at him. He looked at you, almost worried, but yet oddly calm. He smirked, leaning in he kissed you again, nipping at your now swollen lip. You feel your lower lips clench and quiver with want. Your breath was shaky against his lips.
His hand moves down your torso, moving to grip a breast before his hand moves down your apex right to your core. Your breath, staggered, your heart, pounding, your mind, stupid. You clench your lower walls and bite your lip, watching him, feeling him, desiring and needing him. You whimper. His fingers hover, and the heat from his flesh kisses your warm, swollen, needy bud.
When he finally brings his fingers to touch you, you gasp. You lock eyes with him, studying his baby blues as he begins to work your little swollen bundle of nerves. His free hand moves to jerk your head back by pulling your hair, as he hovers over you. His legs pressed against yours spreading your legs further as he worked you, exposing you to the pool table behind him.
But it was when he slid his fingers into you that your mind went more stupid. You let out a heavy moan as your eyes flutter, feeling his fingers work you. Leaning back in the chair, you let him take complete control, as he desired, and your body was no longer your own, and you were far from upset with that idea.
His fingers were like magic, but suddenly that all came to a stop. He looks at you, holding his fingers up as he looks at you. Bringing them to his lips he placed them in his mouth and smirked.
"Finger lickin good... Now... show me what you do with that pussy of yours when you think of me, because let's face it, Darlin, with all you've admitted, I know you've thought about me." He smirked as he moved back to lean against the pool table.
Looking at you he watches intently. Your hand moves to your bud as you slowly begin to work yourself. You watch him, intently, watching how he moves, how he breathes, how his lips curl with that crooked grin of his. You begin to remember how his lips tasted, how they felt against yours, how his fingers felt playing with you. You whimper as you bring your other hand up to grip your breast. Your breathing becomes heavy and you watch as the front of his pants grow tight.
Biting your lip you tasted the blood but your focus was on him.
"Atta girl, slow down, not too fast." he guides.
He readjusts against the pool table as he undoes his pants, freeing himself, he begins to stroke himself slowly. You slow down a bit, your toes curl against the floor as your legs spread even wider giving him a full view as you scoot forward a bit and expose your whole self even more.
"Just like that, keep going. What crosses your mind when you think of me?" he asked you.
Letting out a whimper you look over him as he strokes himself right in front of you. Dear fuck, his cock is god damned perfect.
"What you would feel like inside me." You state honestly with a soft whimper.
"What I'd feel like inside you huh? Well, maybe if you're a good girl, you'll find out." He mused as he moved his hand a little quicker against his cock. "Pick up a little speed." He demanded.
Without a shadow of hesitation, your fingers begin to work yourself quicker. You moan a little louder. His hand works himself faster, a little harder. He grunts, you whimper. It's a tandem of back and forth, a perfect give and take.
It feels like a lifetime, but a lifetime you'd never give back. He sees how wet you are, how you're beginning to drip off the edge of the chair. He snarls and walks to you, taking you by your hair he guides you to the floor and slips his cock between your lips, pressing to the back of your throat. He lets out a heavy groan.
Like a good girl, you take all of his cock, your tongue swirling around as he uses you like a little sex doll, fucking your face. He pulls you back, strings of spit from your mouth to his cock still connected as he slaps you across the face and shoves his cock down your throat again. Your eyes water and your breathing through your nose becomes heavy, and he does it again. Pulls you from his cock, slaps your face and brings your mouth back to his cock, and proceeds to fuck your throat and mouth, his grip on your hair tight it pulls at your scalp. Your moans and whimpers echo and vibrate through him and you as he uses your head to pleasure himself.
"Finger yourself." He snarls
You begin to do just that, your fingers working yourself as your mouth is being used. He smirks looking down at you before he's had enough of using your face he throws you back onto the floor and stands over you.
"Keep going." He demands.
And you do, you don't question him.
"Yes Sir." You state. Again, no question.
He's officially lost all control, at this point you both have. He works his cock faster, and you're watching every bit of it while you're moaning loudly just slightly below him as you work your bud, driving your fingers as deep as you can, feeling your wetness. You want to finish, you're right there, you almost cannot contain that hot explosion between your legs.
"No girl, you gotta beg for that finish." He states.
"Please, please let me cum" You plead.
He shakes his head. "Not yet... keep going... faster." He demands.
A soft whimper escapes your lips as you work yourself faster, you arch slightly your toes curled under you. You're rocking back and forth your hips buckle.
"Please... please Sir... I want to cum. Can I please. Please." You beg.
He looks down at you as he works his cock, and he feels his own eruption on the rise. He looks down at you and smirks.
"Open up." He states.
Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out flat and you begin to taste those hot wet ribbons as he releases against your tongue, and over your face.
"Come on... Cum for me." He growls as he continues his facial finish.
You let out a heavy moan, a loud breathy gasp as your body begins to tremble. His cock tapped against your tongue as if saying he was finished with his finish. He watches you shake, almost a pleasure convulsion. You begin to giggle, swallowing what was in your mouth, and cleaning up your face. Licking it from your fingers.
"Thank you." you muse.
He looks over you and smiles. "No, thank you." he chuckles as he puts himself away.
Moving toward you, he scoops you up places you on the pool table, and looks over your face. He moves a moment and grabs a bottle of water from the bar fridge, and a clean, rag, getting it cool, he moves back toward you. Wiping your face, and neck, he starts to wipe you off and smiles handing you the water bottle.
"So I have a question." He states.
"Yes Sir?" you ask.
"How about you be my Old Lady... my ride or die... my one and only. My little pet... my little pain slut... my girl." He asked you looking over your face.
You look up at him, and this sense of perfection washes over you as you lean forward and kiss him sweetly. "I've waited a long time for that..."
"So is that a yes?" he asks with a smirk.
Nodding your head you chuckle place your arms around him and pull him in for another kiss. "That's a Yes." you whisper against his lips.
Smirking he presses his lips against yours and wraps his arms around you. Holding you tightly against him he leans back and looks over your face.
"Now, how about I take you back to my place, and show you how I feel inside you..." he smirked.
Nodding your head you chuckle. "Yes please, Sir." you whisper against his lips.
He kisses you again, and helps you get dressed before he takes you to his bike, hands you a helmet, and takes off in the direction of his place.
Everything that happened today, it felt like a dream, but this dream was one you'd remember. Only it wasn't a dream. This was real, and you were about to unlock a new chapter in your life.
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youaintnothinbuta · 5 months ago
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"Who does he think he is?" — Austin Butler x reader
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Summary: you and Austin are attending an awards show when your ex, a popular singer performs a song clearly aimed at yours and Austin’s (much happier) relationship.
Pairing: austin butler x reader
Word count: 700
Warnings: fluff! Toxic ex, protective austin
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You and Austin, dressed to the nines, sat in the front row of the grand hall, your fingers intertwined with his. Hollywood’s finest gathered under one roof. Celebrities mingled and photographers captured moments, their cameras flashing like a thousand tiny stars. Austin, looking handsome as per usual in his suit, couldn’t take his eyes off you. He’d already swept up a few awards, which were being kept safe with his manager, wherever she was. But when the host walked back up on stage to announce the next musical performance in between awards, a sense of dread filled you.
"And now, please welcome to the stage... (your ex’s name)!" The crowd erupted in applause as he, a popular singer, and more important the guy who showed you exactly what you didn’t want in a relationship stepped onto the stage.
Austin squeezed your hand gently, his eyes searching yours for any sign of unease. You forced a smile. You hadn’t seen him in over a year, and your breakup with him had been anything but amicable.
He grabbed the microphone, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you. A sly smile spread across his face, and your stomach churned.
"This song," he began, his voice smooth and dripping with intent, "is dedicated to a special someone in the audience tonight."
A murmur rippled through the crowd, heads turning to look at you. You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, your grip on Austin’s hand tightening. You leaned closer to him, whispering, “This is humiliating.”
Austin’s jaw clenched, his protective instincts kicking in. “Do you want to leave?” he whispered back, his voice barely audible above the applause as he began to sing. The song’s lyrics were painfully obvious, a lament about a girl leaving and finding happiness elsewhere—clearly aimed at you and your new relationship with Austin.
Maybe only 20 seconds into the performance, and you couldn’t take it any longer. You squeezed Austin’s hand, your way of telling him you wanted to go, and without a moment’s hesitation, he stood up, pulling you with him. He walked you out of the room, the curious gazes of celebrities and cameras trailing after you.
Once outside, you found a quiet corner away from prying eyes. Your composure shattered, tears of frustration and embarrassment welling up in your eyes. He lifts a finger up to your eyes, drying them before you could ruin your makeup.
"Who does he think he is?" You exclaimed, your voice quivering. "That was so embarrassing, Austin. How could he do that?"
Austin wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. "I’m sorry, Y/N. He’s an idiot. I promise he’s embarrassing himself more than you."
You buried your face in his chest, taking comfort in his steady heartbeat. "Do we go back in?" You asked, her voice muffled. "There were already so many cameras on us."
Austin kissed the top of your head, stroking your back gently. "We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, okay? We can leave if you want, or we can go back in there."
You took a deep breath. "I don’t want to let him ruin our night. Let’s go back in. But can we wait until he’s done?"
"Of course," Austin said, his voice soothing. "We’ll take our time."
You stayed in your secluded corner for a while longer, Austin holding you close, whispering reassurances and planting gentle kisses on your forehead. Eventually, the sound of applause signaled the end of his performance, and the energy shifted back to excitement for the next performer.
Austin looked into your eyes, his expression filled with love. "Ready?" he asked, brushing a stray tear from your cheek.
"Ready," you replied.
Hand in hand, you made your way back into the hall, your heads held high. The moment you re-entered, the atmosphere shifted again. As you took your seats, Austin leaned in close and whispered, "I’m so proud of you."
You smiled. "Thank you, Aus."
You grabbed his face, planting a deep kiss on his lips, just to really drive your point home. The rest of the evening passed without incident. You enjoyed watching other actors and directors win their awards and mingled with friends.
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shockercoco · 5 months ago
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The Lucky One
Benny Cross x reader
Warnings - jealous!reader, some swearing, smoking, mentions of smut, fluff
Word count - 2351
a/n - ngl I wanted to add smut but it just didn’t seem like it fit, also we need more benny imagines ppl👀 i hope you all enjoy :) — read part 2 here !
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“I’ve told you this before, and I’ll tell you again – you are one lucky girl,” Kathy tells you from her spot next to you, nodding in Benny’s direction. “Or should I say that he’s the lucky one?”
You laugh as you follow her eyes, looking at Benny playing pool with some of the other Vandals in the corner. Just like any other weekend, you find yourself in this bar with all the other girlfriends as you watch Benny try to win a game of pool.
From the low lighting of the room, you couldn’t deny how good he looked as he leaned against the pool table, waiting his turn. You felt warmth bubble in your stomach, but you casually dismissed it. 
You definitely weren’t the only one who thought this, though, because some of the random floating girls had their eyes on him as well, staring at his tattooed arms that shined from the thin layer of sweat covering them. Some of them were even bold enough to go up to Benny and throw themselves at him, knowing that he was taken, but not caring. 
Everyone once in a while, Benny would find your eyes and shake his head in amusement from the unwanted attention.
“I think I’m the lucky one,” you smile at her.
“Whatever you say. All I know is that it will always amaze me that Benny somehow convinced you to go out with him, “ she shakes her head in fake disappointment. “What a shame.”
Another laugh makes its way past your lips, causing you to choke on your drink. Kathy wasn’t dating anyone from the Vandals, but she hung around them a lot since she was close with some of the members – and of course because you were always around.
You turn around once you feel a presence sit down in the seat on the other side of you, revealing Benny who is already looking back at you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders as he gives you a wink.
“What are you saying to her now, Kathy?” he asks with a smile as he looks past you to look at her.
“Nothing she didn’t already know,” she shrugs, giving you a sly smile.
“Which is…?” Benny raises an eyebrow at her.
“It’s girl talk. We can’t tell you, and you wouldn’t want to know either,” you chime in before Kathy could answer. She is notorious for saying something that would get under his skin, but it’s not like it's unwarranted because Benny does the same thing right back to her.
Benny’s about to say something else when someone interrupts him. You all turn to look at Cockroach and Benny’s ex, Kay. Well, it’s not really his ex because they didn’t really date, it’s just a girl he used to ‘have relations’ with a while ago and who is a regular at the bar.
You shoot Kathy a knowing look, to which she returns, before looking back at the standing pair.
“Hey, Benny, a few of us are headed out to have a smoke. Do you want to join?” Cockroach asks, as he playfully shakes Benny’s shoulders. He holds out a cigarette for Benny to take, Benny’s ex gives you a smile before looking over at Benny, giving him a hopeful one and wanting him to say yes.
“Sure,” Benny answers as he grabs the cigarette from his friend’s hand before looking at you and asking, “Do you want to join?”
You shake your head at the offer. He knows you hate smoking and only put up with it because of him, but he didn’t want to leave you out.
“No, you go ahead,” you tell him.
Benny nods, before getting up from his seat and following a small group. You watch as they walk away and out the double doors, though you could still see them through the glass window.
“Why didn’t you go with him?” Kathy asks as the two of you look outside. “If I was you and a girl my man used to have sex with and offered him to smoke, I would be right behind him.”
“It’s not like he’s completely out of my eyesight,” you tell her, your eyes still on Benny. You watch as he accepts a lighter Kay offers, leaning down to light the cigarette with it still in his mouth. He takes a deep breath in and then slowly exhales, a cloud of smoke floating out of his mouth.
“I’m not doubting him, believe me that man loves you too much to even give someone else a chance. I’ve never seen him like this. I am doubting that girl though.”
“I’m not too worried about her,” you point out, but you feel your body contradict itself as you watch Kay laugh at something and place a hand on Benny’s arm to keep herself steady.
You don’t know much about Kay, but from what you’ve seen around the hangout, she seemed nice. Well, nice enough. It’s not like she and Benny broke off on bad terms either, they just stopped seeing each other since Benny had decided to leave town for a couple months. And it’s not like she isn’t attractive.
That had always been one of your biggest fears when it came to your relationship – Benny just deciding to up and leave you without a moment’s notice, or just randomly drop you from his life. He seemed to be pretty happy and content with you, though, always wanting to be around you. That didn’t stop that fear from lingering in the back of your head.
You shake your head, an attempt to make your thoughts disappear, and take a sip from the drink you had been nursing.
Throughout the night, you stay around Kathy. The two of you have a couple more drinks as you both decide to play some rounds at the pool table since most of the guys had walked away. Some of the guys you and Kathy did  like were around to play as well. You joined in on some of the bets and even ended up winning some money, but some of the guys got upset.
While all of this was happening, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking out of the window at Benny. It was mainly to admire him, but you can’t deny the fact that you were trying to read everyone’s lips through the glass. I mean, you couldn’t help yourself. It seemed like Kay was constantly laughing at things Benny would say and vice versa. Then again, they could be pity laughs. You hope they were just pity laughs.
Benny didn’t come back inside until the night ended and people were beginning to head home. He said his goodbyes, even to Kay, before coming back inside and searching for you. His eyes land on you near the pool table with Kathy and he makes his way towards you, grabbing your jacket and his.
“You ready to go?” you hear Benny ask from behind you.
“Oh, yeah. I guess it is late,” you turn around to look at him, no Kay in sight. You put the pool stick back in its spot, Kathy doing the same. 
He hands you your jacket before putting on his leather one as you all exit the bar. 
“You two be careful getting home,” Kathy tells the two of you, mostly to Benny as a warning. He rolls his eyes in response.
“Relax, Kathy, she’ll be fine,” Benny says, handing you a helmet before starting the engine of his motorcycle.
You watch as Kathy walks away, heading towards one of the Vandals already on their bikes and asks for a ride home. You give her a wave as Benny pulls off, before wrapping your arms around his waist, hoping he doesn’t do anything too reckless on the way home.
You hate that you feel this way about Benny staying outside practically the whole night. It’s not like it’s a new thing for him since it's common to see some of the Vandals outside enjoying a cigarette. It’s just that you weren’t a huge fan of Kay being in his company, for an extended period of time at that. 
Again though, you shouldn’t care because he’s going home with you tonight and not her, but you still do.
When the two of you arrive back to your place, you quickly dismount the bike and head inside to take a shower, not wanting Benny to see your face because there’s no doubt that he’ll be able to see right through you. 
You hope he doesn’t try to join you in the shower either, since you’re not particularly in the mood at the moment. Thankfully he doesn’t and just sprawls out on the bed and waits for his turn in the bathroom.
While Benny’s in the shower, you decide to go downstairs and make a cup of tea to help you relax – reading a random newspaper while you wait for the water to boil on the stove. Hopefully this will help you get over the petty thoughts in your mind.
“I forgot to ask you, the guys are having this picnic in a couple of days and I was wondering if you wanted to come?” you hear Benny ask as he enters the kitchen. You glance out of the corner of your eye and take in his appearance – he’s wearing sweatpants and a tank top with his hair still damp.
“Yeah,” you answer, keeping your eyes on the paper on the counter. “Who’s going to be there? everyone?”
He starts listing off some names.
“And Kay?” you ask.
“I guess so, yeah,” Benny blinks, confused as to why you asked, but choosing to ignore it. 
It’s silent for a moment, neither of you saying anything next. Then you hear the sound of boiling water, so you move from leaning against the counter to pour the water into a cup, the tea bag already sitting inside.
Behind you, Benny is staring at you with his eyebrows furrowed, sensing something is up and trying to figure out what. He didn’t do anything tonight, at least he doesn’t think he did, so why did you seem upset? Was it because of someone back at the bar, one of the Vandals?
“What’s up with you?” Benny asks with a tilt of his head.
“Nothing, why?” you shrug, giving the water in a cup a small stir before grabbing your newspaper to read again.
“Because you’ve barely said anything since we left the bar, so what is it?” he asks as he steps closer to you.
“I just said something.”
“Oh wow, four whole sentences,” he sarcastically says. “I’m serious.”
You take a deep breath. “I’m fine, I’m just tired.”
Benny doesn’t believe it for a second. He steps closer to you and takes the newspaper from your hands, wanting you to look at him. He was going to get to the bottom of this.
“What are you doing?” you turn to look at him.
“No, what are you doing? What’s up with this little mood you’re in?”
“Benny, please, it’s too late for this,” you roll your eyes and turn away, reaching for your cup. So much for relaxation.
Benny takes that from your hands too, moving everything out of your reach and using his body to press you against the counter. It took him a minute, but he thinks he has an answer.
“What’s your problem?”
“Why did you ask if Kay was going to the picnic?” 
“I didn’t know it was a problem for me wanting to know who’s attending,” you fold your arms across your chest, you glare up at him.
“It’s not, but you never ask about her. So what is it really?”
“What are you trying to accuse me of?”
“We both know what,” Benny leans down closer to your face, placing his arms on the counter on both sides of you. “I just need you to say it.”
“Fuck you,” you stare into his eyes, his gaze just as intense.
And fuck him for being able to read you like a book.
“So it’s true, then?” He raises his eyebrows in amusement.
There was no way in hell you were going to say you were jealous.
But Benny will. “There’s no need for this facade anymore. You’re jealous, and that’s okay,” He smirks.
You just stare back at him, your jaw clenched and slightly embarrassed.
“And what’s even funnier is that it’s because of someone like her,” he laughs.
You don’t say anything, but look away from his gaze.
“Oh come on, baby, don’t be like that,” He told you, moving his head to try and meet your gaze, but you don’t budge and continue to stare at the wall. “You would think that the fact that I’m sleeping in the house with you is confirmation enough that you’re the one I care for. Not to mention the countless times I’ve left you speechless in the bedroom.”
“Benny!” you gasp, shoving him away from you, but he just comes right back. 
“What made you jealous of her?” He questions, his smirk disappearing and his face becoming more serious.
“Nothing important,” you tell him, trying to get him to drop this conversation. You really were tired, and buddy wanted to go to sleep after an eventful night, but it’s Benny.
“No, no, no. Tell me,” He shakes his head before adding, “Don’t make me force it out of you.”
You hesitate for a moment. “She was practically all over you outside the bar, and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it,” you admit.
“I noticed that too, but I didn’t want to make a scene,” he says and you shoot him another glare. “But since you seem to care so much, I’ll remember to make one next time.”
He glanced down at your lips for a second before leaning in to close the gap between the two of you, but you move your head out of the way and press your finger against his lips.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” He mumbles. “What now?”
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austinbutlerslovers · 8 months ago
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Feyd Fantasy 4
Madness & Mayhem
Label Mature 18+
Summary
The Baron has fallen severely ill. Feyds older brother Rabban is flown in for a reunion of the Harkonnen men. With the role of leadership looking like it will transition to Feyd Rautha if the Baron dies the entire galaxy awaits in suspense.
Feyds main obsession is for you and your well being. Though he never outwardly shows it Feyd has a deep attachment to his unborn and goes out of his way to ensure you are both healthy and safe. Even if that means sacrificing his uncle the Baron to do so.
Starts Harkonnen brothers reunite Ends Deep rooted sexual depravity
🚨 Depraved Smut 🚨
coercion•manipulation •rough sex•Feyd in heat•passionate sex•forced lactation• multiple orgasms •simultaneous orgasms •cream pies•aftercare
🫦Smut consultant @burnthheparaphilia
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⚔️ Feyd Fantasy Series ⚔️
Part 1•Part2•Part 3•Part 4•Part 5• Part 6•Part 7
⏳Extreme Dune Inaccuracies ⌛️
💝Softie approved (non-violent) there’s one swift kick
Part 5 Will be Series Finale 🙏🏻
⚔️ Multiple anonymous requests combined ⚔️
-Feyd obsessed with the pregnancy -Feyd protective/aggressive over pregnancy -Manipulating the Baroness into a sexual kink -Rough semi public sex -Love making passionate sex -Feyd is madly in love with the Baroness -Feyd Going insane over the Baroness’s milk. -Feyd Breastfeeding from the Baroness -Feyd calling the Baroness his bovine
*Feyd really needs milk ?? thank you for the requests ☺️🙏🏻
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Madness & Mayhem 
Feyd waits with twenty armed guards at the front of the fortress. An ornithopter swoops in and lands on the arrival pad creating strong gusts of wind.
Out of the craft steps Feyds towering older barbaric brother Rabban. A pale bald gargantuan figure of a man, he has deep set hunter eyes his face rests in a permanent scowl.
He is the tasked enforcer to secure the Barons empire. So animalistic and savage his given name is “the beast” due to his outbursts of uncontrollable rage.
He sees his stoic younger brother at the entrance of the fortress with his guards. Still the most handsome Harkonnen now dressed with a more regal flair than the plain black uniform he is accustomed to. Feyds confidence has increased tenfold Rabban can see the newfound look of determination blazing in his eyes.
They have been raised in competition from child hood. Feyd out performing Rabban at every single opportunity. It hurt him terribly when they were younger to always be cast aside for the more calculated and handsome Feyd Rautha. That was until he came to the realization it was Feyds destiny, it was his right. How else could someone be so perfect.
Feyd watches his older brother bounding down the gangway to greet him. Feyd feels a nagging of annoyance as he clasps his hands behind his back. He stands taller as his brother grows near.
Rabban has failed to secure the spice fields on Arrakis his entire campaign. The spice supply and profits have been decreasing at an alarming rate. The Baron was already preparing to have Feyd arrive on Arrakis and be the savior of the people after Rabbans tyrannical rule.
“ BROTHER!” Rabban yells excitedly. “My eyes are so pleased to see you even under these circumstances. Look how well you are dressed how was your birthday celebration!” Rabban asks gleefully.
Feyd begins to walk with his hands clasped behind his back. Rabban matches his pace “All went well brother, uncle allowed me a real warrior for my 100th kill unsheilded ,and I received the ancient stones of ascension” Feyd revels in sharing his achievements over his brother.
“Our uncle?“ Rabban laughs out loud “let his precious Feyd Rautha engage in unsheilded combat!” Rabbans laughter continues even louder and more tormenting. Until it ends swiftly with a kick to his ribs from Feyd. The hit causes a direct injury Rabban falls to the ground in pain.
Feyd stands over his older brother enjoying watching him gasp and struggle to breathe from the harsh blow. “For the embarrassment you have caused the Harkonnen name on Arrakis you should be kissing my feet not insulting me brother.” Feyd hisses. ”Now that I am set to be Baron” Feyd pauses and steps his foot next to his brothers head. “Kiss or Die” Feyd commands as he kneels over him.
Rabban hesitates to kiss Feyds boot. He is overcome with humiliation that his younger brother is superior to him in every way possible. Rabban does however feel the shame weighing on him of weakening yet another family legacy.
He reluctantly turns his head and kisses Feyds boot in reverence. “We are even now brother ” Feyd asserts standing tall. “Come let’s go see uncle” Feyd leads the way back into the fortress as Rabban follows clutching his ribs
Clever Boy
Feyd and Rabban stand on either side of the Barons bed in the medical wing. The healers have determined he does not have a contagious disease, but his body is heavily contaminated with toxins. They do a skin test but find no reaction from contact. The poison they fail to find has already metabolized in his system.
The Baron is attached to a breathing apparatus. An intravenous mechanism pumps opium to control the pain. His fat body looks even weightier on the normal size medical bed hovering in place. His fingers are decorated with opulent silver rings, the remnants of Feyds birthday celebration. His hands rest across his chest.
“What happened to him why does he look so …purple?” Rabban asks out of curiosity. “Strange disease perhaps” Feyd says casually.
“What if he was POISONED?!!” Rabban yells as he continues to unravel the mystery “It looks like the effects of the dried root plant from Arrakis, there is no mistaking that purple color!” His eyes widen in fear as he clutches his chest.
Feyds impressed his thick brother even narrowed it down to the right plant. “Who would poison our dear sweet beloved uncle? Feyd asks with a mocked concern. “Whoever it is I WILL KILL THEM!” Rabban yells and lifts a medical table tossing it across the room. It crashes into a wall contents scattering across the floor.
The guards rush in and check for the immediate danger only to see Rabban falling to his knees wailing as he clutches his head. Feyd signals them to leave.
Rabban drags on his knees to the bedside of his uncle and grabs his purple hued hand “UNCLE OH WHY !YOU ARE OUR ONLY FATHER YOU HAVE RAISED US TO—” his wailing is cut short by Feyd pulling him up gently by his shoulders “You mustn't touch him too long remember? Diseases?” Feyd says hastily.
Rabban snarls in disgust looking at his hands and runs to the room basin scrubbing them furiously. “Good boy” Feyd says with a grin as he approaches him. His brother may be a raging maniac but he doesn’t want to risk him dead.
Feyd checks the vials of decontaminants. “This one should work much better” Feyd says handing Rabban a solvent that neutralizes toxins. “Thank you brother” Rabban says looking to him graciously.
Rabban was Feyds only childhood companion. Feyd out smarted him ruthlessly at every turn to gain favor from his uncle. Whatever bond they had was broken once the Baron pitted them against each other for his favor.
Feyd noticed how his uncle always underestimated Rabban. Without the pressure of failure Rabban’s nerves would decrease and his rage would cool. He could work effectively, but under pressure Rabban would crack every time. If he could keep Rabban calm during stressful events he would be an unstoppable force.
After Rabban scrubs his hands. He suddenly drops to his knees in front of Feyd. “Feyd I pledge my life to your service you are the future Baron of Giedi prime. I will do everything in my power to serve your reign, I will die for you brother” he says almost in tears.
Feyd slaps the back of his bald brothers head “Get up I know, come meet my Baroness pregnant with my heir” he says hiding away his contentment.
As Feyd and Rabban leave the Baron stirs with a wheeze he was only pretending to sleep. The opium dulls his pain but not enough. He listens intently whenever he hears an important visitor will be arriving . He knows his death is imminent and he spies to confirm his suspicions and loyalties.
‘The cold calculated Feyd Rautha will inherit the throne after all just as I foretold’ the Baron thinks to himself pleased. He lets out a weak startled cough coming to a realization. ‘Ah the cleverness of the boy.’ He sighs. The Baron realizes exactly who poisoned him and why. He presses a button to alert his mentant .
Tumultuous Family
You are sitting in a spacious open viewing room overlooking the large center fortress courtyard. Resting in a chair you enjoy a new book from Feyd ‘The Barons of Giedi Prime.’
Feyd wraps his knuckle at the large open door and you look up from your book and smile. Feyd is standing with a much larger imposing man dressed in Harkonnen military armor. You recognize him from the meeting hall portrait.
As they approach you put your book down and stand to greet them “My brother Rabban this is my wife and Baroness” Feyd says eyeing you with pride. Rabban looks slack jawed.
You are a healthy beautifully shaped woman with radiant skin and full head of hair. Your eyes and confidence immediately intimidate him. He was expecting a pale bald tamed Giedi Prime woman he can not contain his shock.
“Baroness you are stunning. I had no idea my brother could have a wife as beautiful as you are. I pray to the ancient ways the future heir will inherit your striking resemblance. You are like sunshine brightening a gray sky, your beautiful body will grow a healthy child. I am honored you will bear a Harkonnen, you… “ Feyd firmly grabs Rabbans shoulder to stop his unfiltered ramblings about your looks.
“What he is trying to say is congratulations” Feyd interjects. Rabban is already lost in thought transfixed by the thought that you are pregnant with an unborn.
He stares at your abdomen then back to your eyes “May I touch?” he asks reaching to your womb in fascination. Before you can even utter a word Feyd yanks him back full force “You do not touch what is mine brother” he snaps angrily.
Rabban bows his head respectfully and Feyd coldly gestures him to leave. Rabban exits the room quietly and shuts the door behind him. The silence is deafening after the interaction.
Feyd goes to your reading table and pours himself a water to drink. He sits and you join him. After a few moments of silence he formulates a way of giving you a piece of what you’ve been yearning for. His tumultuous family history.
“My older brother Rabban though vastly different from me is in fact related to me by blood.” He says with a contemplative smirk. “He was so unfit as a son my parents hastily sought to have another” you almost question his statement as vanity until you see he’s serious.
You decide to pry now that he has opened the conversation to his parents. Especially being tormented about his mothers death being matricide. “So you were your mother’s favorite?” you ask gently.
“My mother didn’t have a favorite, she didnt love any of us. She did as she was told. She was a Bene Gesserit” your stomach pulls in apprehension at his cruel inflection of the word.
“Rabban came out ….differently , obviously not the superior son they were expecting. After him there were several failed pregnancies. My father began having my mother pumped full of hormonal drugs. One cluster of drugged cells finally developed into a fertile embryo… and here I am” he sets his empty cup down tracing his finger around the rim to distract himself from his own painful admission.
Realizing his mother was a Bene Gesserit entails Feyd was rarely nurtured or loved. As a Bene Gesserit you do not attach to your child in love because it is considered to detract from the order. You are a vessel that serves a greater purpose and may need to lie or even harm your child to lead it to the path that aligns with the order.
Feyd slumps down in his chair and folds his hands. You see his deadened eyes lost in the complexities of a traumatic memory. You come and sit on his lap. He allows you space and you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his head. He reaches around your waist clinging to you as he still stares off into the space of the courtyard.
You press a kiss onto his forehead transferring feelings of love into his mind as you caress your fingers at his temple. He relaxes instantly closing his eyes and resting against your bosom. He feels safe as he presses his cheek along your breasts loving the comfort and warmth.
The way you nurture him so lovingly always causes maddening thoughts to form in his mind. He doesn’t understand why he must corrupt something so good but he has already set in motion a way to satisfy his newfound dark desire. “Come let’s prepare for dinner with my brother. I will need him as an ally in the coming days” he says trying to shift his mind back to rational thought. He helps you to stand from his lap and you both leave to his chamber.
Liquid Lactation
Unbeknownst to you Feyd has been invested in the health of you and his unborn to an obsessive degree from the start. He assigned a Doulah who confirmed you were implanted with his unborn.
At the verification he immediately coerced her to be a spy for him without any limit to your privacy. She is loyal to her leader and reports all details to him without reservation. He was informed the unborn is smaller than expected but healthy. However the pregnancy was draining vast amounts of iron and minerals from your blood.
He immediately had the meal consultant switch your sustenance to iron rich and enhanced with trace minerals for your consumption. You are completely unaware but he notices you are not tired as often and your energy has returned.
Feyds newest dark desire is at the forefront of his mind each time you hug him or press your warm breasts against his face. He wants to drink milk from you. He withholds his small sounds of pleasure when he clings to you and your breasts press against his face. He wants nothing more than to escape into ecstasy with your warm milk spilling down his throat.
When he divulges his sick obsession to the doulah she only wants to accommodate him. She believes the underlying cause is severe maternal neglect. Maybe the maternal affection will heal him in some way.
When she informs him your milk will not be ready until the final month Feyd conveys he does not want to interfere with his unborns supply he wants to create his own for a short time.
She readily comes up with a solution to appease her Na Baron. She is able to track down a water soluable substance that will force your lactation for up to six hours.
It is used for bovines when the milk harvest decreases on Giedi Prime due to toxic conditions.
It will be completely safe for a pregnant human female at the correct dosage. He readily accepts the translucent liquid studying its contents in the vial with a grin of satisfaction on his face. A new emotions over takes his body that he can’t describe. He thinks it is joy.
Just The One
As you get dressed for dinner in the basin room he unclocks a secret compartment in his kink cabinet. He retrieves the hidden vial and slips it into his pocket. He plans to secretly drug you into lactation tonight and have his fill of milk.
Once you emerge fully dressed his eyes fall to seduction. You’ve worn your hair up and have on a dark crimson red gown with sleeves that rest at your shoulders. The gown is low cut and snatched to your curves. “My Baroness” he says alluringly caressing you all over the shimmering fabric.
He trails his fingers along your covered breasts leaning in and placing a heated kiss on your collar bone. The ornate necklace you wore to cover your love marks is quickly snatched from your neck by Feyd.
He sucks onto your skin forming even more bruises where he finds space. He steps back to admire you trailing his thumb along the marks that make a collar. He smiles in satisfaction taking your hand and leading you to dinner.
As you enter the dining hall it is a quiet affair just you Feyd and Rabban at the expansive dining table. The Lord in waiting and advisors are in a frenzy completing the decrees and changes necessary to instate Feyd as the new Baron while his uncle lays dying.
Feyd sits at the head with you to his left and his brother to his right. The food arrives and is placed in front of each of you. You look at down at your plate to see your third serving of seared bovine meat with root vegetables of the day. You begin eating the vegetables first.
Feyd slips the lactation liquid into your drink with inherent skill. It goes unnoticed by all. He slides the vial in his sleeve and continues reaching for your knife cutting up your meat for you.
As you innocently take a sip from your glass Feyd wickedly smirks, his eyes glinting with delight. Realizing his ‘bovine Baroness‘ will be producing milk for him tonight hardens his cock. He palms himself under the table at the mere thought.
During the dinner Feyds attentions are focused entirely on you. His brother Rabban eats and rambles about the subservient ‘rats’ on Arrakis that he hunts and kills daily to protect the spice harvesters and the ever elusive rat leader Muad'Dib.
Feyd watches you finally empty your glass and hums to himself with a naughty smirk. He slips the empty vial from his sleeve placing it hidden under the ledge of his plate. You look over at him and smile your brows raise in curiosity due to his mischievous mood for the evening.
Rabban continues rambling and changes the topic one more time to himself before finally asking:
“How many children do you plan to have with my brother Baroness? How many nieces and nephews will I see running through the Harkonnen halls “ he smiles to you as he takes a bite and chews his dinner awaiting your numbered response.
Feyd finally pays attention.
You look up surprised and completely caught off guard by the question. You have not been initiated by the Bene Gesserit to have more than one. With the specialty of this child you realize all of your focus and energy will go into instructing the child in the ways on your own.
Once an adolescent the child will be warded by the Reverend Mother who will advance the inherited skills of the genetically supreme child to surpass all of the Bene Gesserits.
Feyd knows none of these limitations.
“I would like to focus all of my attention and energy on just the one” you answer honestly.
You glance over to confirm with Feyd and instead see defeat in his eyes.
It would give him no greater joy than to have several children with you. Growing up with only one tyrannical brother he wished he had other siblings.
Finding out you only want one is even more difficult for him to accept. It awakens the barbarian in his blood. He will get you pregnant as many times as possible. He smirks to himself how could you even deny him when he’s pinning you down thrusting you full of his seed.
Once the meal is completed and the table is cleared you bid farewell to Rabban. After walking only a few paces from the dining hall Feyds desires overtake him and he can not contain his sexual urges on the long walk to his chamber.
He pulls you into an empty darkened state room. It is reserved for hosting large banquets. Six stone pillars support the large atrium in the enormous space He pushes you against the nearest pillar kissing you hard as he unbuckles his pants and steps out of them.
He bunches your dress up to your hips as his fingers reach between your legs finding your panties and pulling them to the side. He presses his chest against you and pushes his fingers into your mouth. His panting grows heavier as he collects your saliva and pushes it into you folds.
Before you can even think he thrusts himself inside of you . He sheaths himself all the way to the hilt. You cling to him and moan into his ear as he lifts your legs around him and presses his hips between yours.
He holds your body up with his and begins fucking you against the pillar. You are moaning as he continues to rail you against the beam. He stares at your neck and sucks more bruises, the pain almost unbearable from his double markings on your tender neck.
You are overwhelmed by the intensity of his thrusts wracking through your body. You almost beg for mercy until your clit begins to throb as your nipples harden against your gown. You become so wet as he continues passionately thrusting it begins to feel pleasurable. He stares into your eyes conveying his wild unyielding love for you.
You love him too. You panic at the overwhelming intrusion of the thought and try to change your mind. You close your eyes to enjoy the carnal pleasure instead. His voice regains your attention “ look at me”’ he commands.
You open your eyes, as you do he presses his chest to yours and thrusts his cock its deepest inside of you throbbing your core. You cry out from the sensation of him fully sheathed inside of you. His eyes gaze unto yours full of his undying love for you.
It sends a chill all over your body. You become so aroused you wrap your arms around his neck and cling onto him, your face is pressed to his shoulder. He re-grips higher under your thighs and plows his cock into you against the pillar. Your moans in unison fill and echo throughout the giant space.
As you orgasm he cums with you. Your walls milk his cock as he spills his seed. His grunts against your neck soften as his thrusts grow weaker. He stays stilled inside of you panting and looking back into your eyes uncertain if he should describe to you what he’s feeling.
He removes his cock as he settle you to the ground. As you both redress he speaks up “I will want more than one child with you.” He asserts.
It makes you go mute you know the order may never approve of this and you turn away from him not knowing what to say.
“Why do you mock me with your silence woman?“ he says with concern. “Because we have not even had the first” you admit “Then I want seven” he says pulling you closer, holding the back of your neck.
He places his hand over your heart “You will be a good mother” he says tenderly looking into your eyes “How do you know if someone will be a good mother” you ask naively.
You look and see the anguish you’ve caused to form on his face remembering his childhood. You quickly shush him pulling him closer wrapping your arms around him. You caress his back as he works through his pain.
After a moment of silence you try and cheer him up “Maybe you can tell I will be a good mother because of the way your uncle hates me so” you say sweetly. Feyd grins menacingly “he will will learn to accept you …or he will die.”
Bovine Baroness
As you study your body in the mirror, you notice your breasts have doubled in size. You turn to the side cupping them to be sure. Your pregnancy hasn’t even begun to show.
With confusion on your face you cover in Feyds black robe tying the waist as you return to him in his chamber. He is sitting up in bed waiting for you. As you settle next to him he peeks over at your enlarged breasts and maddeningly craves for them.
He pats his lap and you come to him. He easily pulls you to straddle him. He sees the concerned look on your face “What worries you?” he asks. He can already guess as he strokes your cheek with the back of his hand.
You just bring his hands to cup your prominent chest. His entire body caves in as he smiles lustfully without giving away his intentions. The lactation liquid is taking effect and he’s going to milk you dry.
He slowly parts open your robe exposing your full breasts. His cock hardens beneath you from the sight. He tries to contain his heavy breathing.
He slowly cups your swollen breasts in his hands “There is milk inside” He says breathlessly feeling how they’ve grown heavier. “But it’s too soon“ you confess. “Well go see your Doulah in the morning” he says absentmindedly.
You see his breathing increasing even more, his eyes transfixed on your chest. He purposely kneads your soft full breasts in his hands. He pulls you closer and presses his face into each one softly caressing his cheek against them. The scorching heat of your skin warms his face. His length hardens solid
“Disrobe for me” he commands. He is near salivating wanting to drink from you.
You rise into a kneel and pull your robe from your shoulders. He grips the sheet on his lap bringing it down and releasing his firm standing cock. It slaps against his abs before settling straight.
He grabs your waist and pulls you close until your entrance is hovering directly above his cock. With your breasts in his face he squeezes them together in his hands “such a good mommy look at all this milk” he says softly peering up at you.
You feel so aroused by him and yet confused why your body is creating milk at this time. Your core aches for him. You watch as he opens his wanting mouth and sucks your nipple inside.
Your walls clench involuntarily as shocks of pleasure run down your spine. Your breasts are so full they tingle as your nipple hardens in his mouth. It sends chills all over your body as his warm mouth sucks you so gently. You feel his teeth graze onto the tender flesh making you softly moan.
He releases one and goes to the other sucking it in his mouth and tenderly biting down on the bud. “Feyd it feels so good“ is all you can say. “I haven’t even started yet” he says peeking up at you through his lashes with a smirk played on his lips.
He places your hands where his neck meets his broad shoulders. He begins squeezing and kneading your breasts a second time. He sucks them hard until your nipples are so taught they feel like they will burst.
All of his sucks and licks send shocks directly to your core. Your folds are soaked for him. He places his hands on your hips and pulls you down slowly penetrating you onto his large cock. He’s harder than ever as he pierces through your walls. Once you settle on the base you gasp and hold tighter to the back of his neck.
He leans in and presses his lips to your throat placing small kisses across the front. He grips your thighs and guides you with his hands making you move filled with his cock. He stretches you open rocking you back and forth on his lap as you sweetly moan.
He places his hands under your thighs lifting you slightly before settling you back down on his length in a rhythm. Your walls throb each time you settle on the base of his cock. Your core pulls tighter as you give into him lost in pleasure.
He parts his legs wider and slowly pushes his cock up inside of you as you settle down on him. You moan out his name as your mind goes fuzzy. You tilt your head back in satisfaction as you form a new rhythm working into each other until you both start panting.
As you grind slowly onto each other you let out sounds of pleasure in tandem. He watches your face in ecstasy as you make love to him. You moan in the air louder when he thrusts into you slightly harder. The smacks of his skin to yours growing louder with his increased stamina.
Your tits begin to leak due to your arousal and you look down stunned. He stops his thrusts as warm droplets pitter off your nipples onto his abs and into his lap. You are making a mess all over him you try to get up but Feyd holds your hips down firmly.
A shiver runs down your spine seeing the psychotic look in his eyes. This is what his depraved mind has been waiting for, his pupils slowly expand to black.
He goes insane and lunges his mouth onto your breast latching to your nipple. He cups your breast and whimpers as he sucks and his mouth begins filling with your warm milk.
He think he is dreaming as soft whines emit from his throat. He takes swallow after swallow wetly sucking milk out of you. Feyd releases your nipple from his mouth with a wet pop and tilts his head back gasping.
A deep guttural moan emits from his throat as his cock twitches inside of you. He tilts his head up hungry for more and grabs your other nipple pulling it into his mouth. He makes pathetic whimpering moans as he suckles from you. He begins to powerfully fuck you thrusting his cock up inside if you as he nurses. He wants to suck you dry as he refills you with his cum.
His sucking becomes sloppier as he thrusts into you with wild abandon. He isn’t focused on anything his cock and mouth are being too satisfied at the same time.
Your clit swells and throbs as you become so wet you are soaking his lap. You let out moans he sucks and fucks into you. He switches and latches on your other nipple again.
His teeth are tugging on you as he nurses. He’s becoming violent sucking your nipple harder and wanting more. You cradle the back of his head to calm him and he lets out a sickly little moan. You slowly rock back and forth on his cock with his thrusts “Feyd I’m going to cum” you cry out.
He swallows his last mouthful completely draining your breasts of milk. His body trembles and tenses as he lets out a range of deep moans. You cradle his head to your chest as his cock ejaculates inside of you. You orgasm sliding up and down on him milking his cock hard. He clings to you with his eyes shut tight as you ride through your orgasms together.
You slow to a still in his lap both of you panting heavily. His body twitch’s and you caress your hand on the parts of him that spasm involuntarily. He had a mental overload of emotions. You look into his dazed out eyes down to the milk that still covers his chin and his chest. You want to clean him.
You carefully slide him out of you and climb off of his lap. He lays down wearily he can hardly keep his eyes open he reaches his hand for you and trails his thumb down your jaw “my bovine baroness” he says with a milk drunk smile. You smile back at him and stroke his temple.
You leave his side to collect a cloth. When you return he is laying peacefully asleep. You clean him of all or your milk dabbing his mouth and his chin softly. His face is so soft and angelic lips curved in a smile eyes shifting in a dream.
You pat the cloth down his abs and cock. Once he is clean you climb into bed behind him and place your arm over his ribs pulling him against you cuddling your face to his back. You quickly fall into a deep sleep.
Long Live the Baron
Feyd awakens from a nightmare he sits up in bed in the dark breathing heavily in a light sheen of sweat. It wasn’t the usual sex dream of you. In this nightmare you were screaming being taken away from him by force.
He quickly reaches and checks you are by his side. Feeling your soft warm skin under his hand he lays and presses a kiss to your neck. He loves you with a newfound ferocity after drinking from you. He pulls you closer to him and rests with his head at the back of yours inhaling your scent trailing his fingers through your hair. His heart rate returns to normal with you in his arms and he rests his eyes.
There is a sudden sharp knock at the door making Feyd sit up. He doesn’t answer he waits for his Page to intercept. Once his Page collects the message he speaks through the door knowing Feyd is a light sleeper and will already be awake. “m’Lord It is your uncle you must come to his chamber at once” his page relays.
Feyd gets dressed in his traditional Harkonnen attire. A plain black uniform with chest pockets and a high collar. He knows the outcome of this urgent request. He kneels next to you sleeping, and plants a kiss on your temple. He places his hand on your womb to his unborn. This is the moment he has waited his entire life for he leaves his chambers heart racing with adrenaline.
He is brought to the Barons main chamber and enters a somber scene. All twelve of the Barons advisors and his Mentat with their heads low surrounding the bed of the clearly deceased Baron Vladimir Harkonnen. He is dressed in traditional black attire clutching the Harkonnen crest at his chest. Feyds brother Rabban is trying to remain stoic but every so often his sniffling can be heard.
Feyds newly appointed Lord in waiting makes the announcement “Siridar Vladimir Harkonnen is dead, long live the Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen“
“LONG LIVE BARON FEYD RAUTHA HARKONNEN!” They all chant bowing in reverence to Feyd.
His breathing increases as his eyes dance wildly. He glances around the room at all the advisors and his brother bowing to him. Seeing his uncles dead lifeless corpse in the back ground he feels the elation rising in his chest. This is real, his honor fulfilled he is now the reigning Baron of Geidi Prime. He has a maniacal look in his eyes as the corner of his mouth twitches into a smile.
Next Chapter->
Feyd Fantasy Part 5 Endless Empire (Series Finale💜) Plot =Baron Feyd | Feyd Supremacy | Harkonnen Heir
Special thanks warranted for following the series this far so happy to entertain you 😭🎉 anon requests for part 5 fic are closed TBA soon☺️
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lovetwist · 8 months ago
Text
Veil of Deception (II)
SYNOPSIS: Forced into marriage with Feyd-Rautha, you must now consummate the union. A night of unsparing obscenity. His grip on you is deadly, perhaps worsening when you seek to escape him.
WARNINGS (R18+): dub-con, first time, biting, marking, sexual content, breeding, mentions of choking, power play, violence, weapons, cannibalism
Word count: 2.6k
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PART 1
The night seemed excruciatingly long, your body overwhelmed by the sensations ruptured by your husband: pain, pleasure, pure agony.
Feyd-Rautha was transfixed on the way your hair sprawled out on the bedsheets, creating a halo around your body. You had found it to be a strange request when you were informed to keep your hair long for the wedding. Now you knew exactly who had made the order each time your husband pulled, scrunched, and ran his calloused hands through your locks.
“Please – ah – slower!” you gasped underneath him.
What a mistake to beg or plead. His pace seemed to only quicken with every whimper you released. It had been hours, he was entirely relentless in his pursuit of unraveling you. Every time you felt as though you’d die, he’d slow and make you wet once more.
You hated the way you would arch for him, your physical body betraying your moral dignity. You hated how he would smirk every time, calling you ‘pet’. Most profoundly, you hated the mirror above his bed exposing the shamefulness of every position he took you in and the wanton expression you wore during them.
Feyd-Rautha was a skilled lover, but he was greedy in chasing his own release – which seemed to never end.
Your mother couldn’t prepare you for this, the Bene Gesserit had very little information on the na-Baron’s likes and weaknesses aside from rumors. He had killed the previous Sister sent to seduce him and broken the neck of another Sister who attempted to plant a trigger word in his mind.
Perhaps it would be a miracle if you survived your wedding night.
It was almost animalistic the way he pounded into you with limitless stamina. His seed was still dripping down your legs as he flipped you over like a hound. Your cheeks flushed at this positioning, he was treating you like a beast in heat.
“Cry for me, pet,” he’d sneer every time tears stung your eyes.
“I-I’m not your pet,” you’d pant trying to adjust to his speed. Your defiance and spirit would only set him off further into lunacy.
You’d never forget the raptorial look in his eyes when you first bled. He had prepared you well with his fingers and tongue, but his extraordinary size still pierced your hymen painfully. Feyd-Rautha arrogantly reveled in the fact that he was the first man to claim your maidenhood – and subsequently subjected you to every single one of his primal desires.
His bites on your body ached initially, followed by thorough licks of every reddened wound with his hot tongue. During the brief intermissions, he traced the bruises marked on your hips and thighs smugly. Your husband was a paradox, torment and pleasure wrapped into one.
The experiences he gave you differed wildly from anything you had read upon the marital bed. Though you were disappointed in the lack of romance, you did enjoy his physicality. His allure was striking with chiseled facial features, piercing eyes, and a toned body.
You didn’t fail to notice the flex of his muscles with every thrust into you or how his voice would drop several octaves when he was close to release.
His hands were rough, but his fingers were beautiful – the masterful way they would tease your breasts and sadistically wrap around your throat. You’d shiver when he licked your ears and nipped at your swollen lips.
Feyd-Rautha didn’t kiss you often, but when he did it could only be described as an unearthly procession of dominance. He was aggressive and vicious in the way he forced his tongue down your throat, exploring every inch of your mouth while his large hand locked your face in place. You couldn’t deny that your body was in complete submission of his depravity.
He smirked each time you moaned and mewled into his kiss, flattering his ego. The way he overpowered you so easily made your head spin.
“No more…” you groaned as you gripped the sheets beneath you, already wet with sweat and cum.
He’d sneer and scoff as he denied you, further burrowing himself into your hair and savoring your scent. You couldn’t oppose this predatory creature on top of you, not when he held your entire being in the palm of his hand.
“You belong to me, we stop when I say so,” he growled every time you tried to turn away. He held your wrists down with both arms, caging you beneath him like prey.
The last thing you remember from your wedding night were the rays of sunlight pouring through the curtains when you finally lost consciousness.
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The morning light filtered through gaps in the velvet curtains, casting a gentle glow over the chamber. You stirred, slowly emerging from the depths of sleep, your body still tingling from the intensity of the night before. Memories flooded back, mingling with sensations of arousal and embarrassment.
The bed was cold. Instead of your husband, you found a silver tray placed next to the nightstand with delectable plates of food.
‘Eat.’ was elegantly scripted on an adjacent card. You rolled your eyes at his overbearing personality but couldn’t deny the pangs of hunger.
After breakfast, you decided to take a bath. As you placed both feet on the ground to walk, your legs wobbled terribly. Sitting back down on the bed with a long sigh, you decided to wait for servants to eventually come fetch you.
Hours passed and no one came. When the sun rose high enough to be early noon, the doors burst open.
Your husband strode in, his presence commanding the entire room. His eyes, still burning with yesterday’s fire, swept over you. He took in your disheveled appearance with a hint of amusement.
"Good, you’re alive," he remarked, his voice laced with self-satisfaction.
"Apologies for the disappointment, but I don’t die so easily,” you retorted, unable to keep the edge out of your voice.
He ignored your comment, crossing the room in long strides until he stood before you, his imposing figure casting a shadow over you. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers trailing along the marks on your chest in a gesture that was both possessive and intimate.
"You fainted,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I hope you’ve regained your strength.”
"Don’t touch me,” you shot back, unable to suppress the surge of defiance.
He grabbed your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You are my possession. Mine to use, mine to break if necessary,” he reminded you, his voice a low growl. "And you will open your legs for me. If not, then I’ll have to use your pretty little mouth."
You bristled at his words, but beneath the anger, there was a flicker of something else— fear, perhaps, or maybe something more primal, a recognition of the power he held over you and a heat forming in your lower core.
For a moment, you were tempted to push him away, to fight or defy him once more. Not all battles were won in a day, you thought to yourself.
Thus you didn’t protest when he ripped the sheet exposing your naked form, and you stubbornly ignored the fact that you came three times underneath him that afternoon.
-------------------------------------------------------
On the fourth day of your marriage, you become suspicious of why you never see servants. Every day you awake, and everything is remarkably already prepared.
“Why do I not have any servants to attend me,” you questioned.
“You do. Only, no one is allowed to enter my chambers without prior permission,” he replied flatly.
“Well then, I’d like to leave for my own chambers.” You weren’t confident if you even had chambers, but you guessed they must be storing your clothes and belongings somewhere.
“You will leave when I no longer require you here,” his voice boomed. “Aren’t you enjoying our honeymoon, pet?” he mocked.
“Do not call me pet, Feyd-Rautha. I am your wife, not an animal you can cage and entertain on a whim.”
“Right,” he drawled. “If you had been an animal, I would’ve already broken you a thousand times over,” his eyes glinted with interest. “Especially one that doesn’t know when to shut its barking, wife.”
As Feyd-Rautha's words hung heavy in the air, a tense silence enveloped the room. You could feel the weight of his brutal nature pressing down on you, suffocating any resistance that simmered to rise within you. With a deep breath, you squared your shoulders, refusing to cower before him.
"I demand to know why I'm being kept prisoner in this room," you declared, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and determination.
Feyd-Rautha's eyes narrowed, his gaze darkening with anger. "Prisoner?" he scoffed.
"You are performing your marital duties, na-Baroness. Do not sour my mood. Lest you’ve forgotten the purpose of this union, I need to fuck you until your womb swells with my seed,” he gritted his teeth, “It’s been pleasurable so far, hasn’t it? You moan like a whore under me each night."
Speechless, your mouth gaped at his profanity.
"It would be a mistake to disobey me."
A surge of frustration bubbled up inside you, threatening to spill over. "And if I refuse?" you challenged, daring to meet his gaze head-on.
His lips curled into a cruel smirk, a glint of malice dancing in his eyes. "Then you will suffer the consequences – which you would not be able to bear, little one" he replied, his voice dripping with menace. “Do you want me to show you?”
Before you could respond, he clapped his hands twice. The doors to the chamber burst open, entering a group of armed guards standing at attention. Feyd-Rautha's expression turned into a dark leer.
"Escort my wife to her personal chambers," he commanded, his tone deceptively calm. "And make sure she doesn’t go anywhere without a guard. From now on, she is not to enter nor stay in my rooms."
As the Harkonnens moved to seize you, you realized with a sinking feeling that you were truly trapped in this gilded cage, at the mercy of a man whose cruelty you had yet to understand.
-------------------------------------------------------
Deep within you, a flicker of rebellion still burned bright, a willful resolve to reclaim your freedom and dignity, no matter the cost.
Your room, surprisingly luxurious, boasted a large balcony that offered an overhead view of the training grounds. It seemed purposeful, chosen to serve as a stark reminder of the life you had been thrust into: perpetual violence.
You weren’t alone in your room; servants flitted about, attending to your needs with a silent efficiency that bordered on eerie. They all looked the same, simple white garbs and shaven heads. Attendants moved like shadows, their presence barely felt and never acknowledged. It was as if they were part of the furniture, existing solely to serve.
As na-Baroness, you only had a few measly duties assigned to you: organize balls and events of state. This was laughable as events on Giedi Prime occurred only a few times per year, mostly none with consequence or importance.
There were two ways you could see your husband: on the training grounds or when he came to fuck you.
Feyd-Rautha was a formidable warrior with carefully honed skills and keen senses. However, he often flaunted his prowess to the point of showmanship. Having nothing else to do, you watched his sparring sessions sometimes.
Under the black sun of Giedi Prime, it all seemed like a colorless nightmare that you’d hallucinated. Blood, violence, and the never-ending screams haunted you even as you closed the balcony doors. This was no nightmare, it was reality.
Your husband was a disciplined man who adhered to a tight routine; training early each morning, proceeded by visits your room.
After your confrontation, he hardened towards you. There would be no conversation, Feyd-Rautha had the mind to only satisfy himself and left quickly afterwards. He always slept in his own his chambers.
His anger did not ever seem to dissipate, only replaced with lust temporarily.
The monotonous days left you feeling isolated and adrift in a sea of strangers. The only reprieve came in the form of letters you sent to your family. They’d ask you how you were faring and you’d carefully craft missives that painted a picture of marital contentment while concealing the ugly truth. Of course you couldn’t tell them, not when everything hinged upon the success of this union and the delivery of an heir.
On some lonely nights, as you lay by yourself in the large bed, you regretted asking to leave his side. After all, your golden cage hadn’t expanded and you still exercised no authority.
Four weeks later, you felt relieved that your blood came. True it was your purpose to bear a child, but there was a part of you that feared your husband would simply leave you alone for good once he confirmed a pregnancy.
That afternoon, you gently denied him access to your body. “My courses have come,” you explained, crawling off his lap.
He was shocked for a moment, but then slowly released his grasp on you. He left the room without a word.
Later in the evening, feeling brave or perhaps missing his touch – which you’d never outwardly admit – you decided to break one of the rules by visiting his chamber.
You thought of things to say to him.
I’d like to spend more time together as husband and wife.
I think it would help our marriage to get to know one another.
I want to explore the estate and Giedi Prime.
Your musings were interrupted by the synchrony of female voices and laughter coming out of your husband’s room.
In a momentary fit of shock and fury, you ignored the guards and pushed open the doors.
He was polishing his dagger leisurely with three naked Harkonnen women laying across his bed.
“How dare you enter my chambers without permission,” he hissed. You didn’t miss the way he angled the tip of the dagger towards you.
“Who are they?” you demanded, voice unable to conceal your disturbance and a hint of jealousy.
“My pets, they require special attention,” he replied coolly, at which the harpies giggled in unison.
You understood that they were pleasure slaves. It was common for noblemen to have concubines; you just hadn’t expected your husband would as well. Did he spend the night with them? Is that what he did after leaving your bedroom every day?
You stood frozen in place, humiliated at your naivete. You meant nothing to him, another whore but adorned with an empty title. A guard swiftly followed you inside the chamber, roughly grabbing your arm and beginning to drag you out.
“Na-Baroness, you do not have permission to be in here–”, the rest of his sentence could not be heard as Feyd-Rautha slit his throat and sliced his arm. The man fell where he stood.
“Perfect timing,” he growled. “My darling pets were getting hungry,” he squinted his eyes at the dead guard as though he was lowlier than filth.
None of the other guards dared to touch you after that display.
Monster. Traitor. Killer. 
When the three women ran down to divvy up the bits of his body, you had to fight the urge to puke. You stare at their markings, soulless ebony eyes, and sharp black teeth as they devour the man’s limbs, you’ve never felt more disgust or fear in your life.
Harkonnen. Monster. Traitor. Killer. 
Feyd-Rautha approaches you, expressionless and without any hint of remorse. “Go,” he commands. “Get out unless you want to become fodder for them as well.”
As you turned to walk away, tears fell like raindrops, marking the path of your departure with silent rage and hatred.
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