#paul can sneak in too
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#i know#it'd be a hare krishna movie for sure#keeping everything pg 13#might add a few sex scenes in between#a girl can only dream#😔#spotify play yer blues#how is he so fine#george harrison#paul can sneak in too#paul mccartney#the beatles#john lennon#ringo starr#beatles#memes
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i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body
Me too! GOD. Me, too.
It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!
✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨
Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush
Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.
You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.
This guy must be really fucking interesting.
You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.
It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.
It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.
“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.
“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”
GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”
Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”
Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”
Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.
“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.
“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”
Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.
“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.
“Max,” GP sighs.
“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”
GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”
“I’m not jealous.”
And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.
Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”
You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.
“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.
GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”
You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.
“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.
“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.
Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.
“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.
The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.
“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”
“My what?”
“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.
He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.
Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.
He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?
He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.
“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.
He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.
“Right, so,”
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The Secret of Sherlock Holmes bookbinding project!
I've really wanted a hard copy for a while of 'The Secret of Sherlock Holmes' play by Jeremy Paul, which was performed by Jeremy Brett and Edward Hardwicke (and is very high on my list of things to go and see if I get a time machine, because there aren't any video recordings of it.)
ANYWAY it's long out of print and very expensive to buy so I figured... I can just make one myself!
First I bound the text block. It's so slim, at a grand total of 75 pages.
I bound the cover in honey-coloured book cloth, and then set about creating a cover design.
I wanted to use the official logo of the play and this amazing publicity photo, so I went into my paint package of choice (clip studio) and tweaked the photograph until I was happy I'd got a likeness of the actors only using black and white. I think Jeremy Brett lost a little of his handsomeness, alas.
A while ago I bought a cutting machine, a Silhouette Portrait, which comes with some great software which can automatically convert an image like this into a path for the cutting machine to follow, although I usually tweak it manually too.
For example, I figured the weave on Hardwicke's tie was too intricate so I removed it.
Then I set the cutting machine to work!
For a while I tried using self-adhesive vinyl to make covers, but I found that it wasn't very hard-wearing and would start peeling off. These days I use self-adhesive vinyl to make a stencil, and then paint onto the book cloth in acrylic. The fact that the stencil is self-adhesive reduces the chances of any paint sneaking in underneath!
(The stencil is gold just because I have a lot of spare gold vinyl - it's probably not the best colour to use.)
For this project I did something I've never done before, which is doing two layered stencils, a white layer underneath, and then a black layer on top.
I kind of regret not painting all of the figures in white because if you squint you can see the line where the white stops on the final piece.
And now for the really satisfying bit - peeling of the stencil when everything has dried!
I'm really pleased with the finished book, and it's so fun to possibly have the only hardback version of this play... ever...???
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in the silence, there is an us
Pairing: Paul Atreides x Reader
Summary: Throughout their lives, Paul and reader have often found themselves in each other's bed. Childish games after bedtime, late-night studying sessions, nightmares, and a burning need to not be apart.
Part of Paul's point of view can be read here: "you are my favourite silence"
Words: 7.2k
Warnings: not proofread, possibly some inaccuracies about plot details (have not watched dune in ages, i'm just obsessed with paul), best friends to lover, tension, light angst, jessica being a bit rude, reader being an orphan and of a lower social rank, duke leto's death (rip), lots of cuddles and lingering touches, fluff, the whole deal
***
The grand halls of Castle Caladan always had an eerie stillness after sunset. The select servants walked quietly, the sound of waves crashing below barely made its way through the stone walls, and the Duke and Lady Jessica kept to their quarters. For Paul and you, though, this was the perfect time to sneak past the sternness of bedtime. The day never seems long enough for young children whose eyes are still filled with stars.
“Come on!” Paul’s whisper was loud, almost too loud for sneaking around, but you didn’t think long enough to care. The thrill of the game was enough to make both of your hearts race. You were barefoot, your steps making soft thuds against the cool floor as you tiptoed through the hall toward his room.
“If we get caught—” you whispered, but Paul cut you off with a grin.
“We won’t. Besides, who can stop us?”
You rolled your eyes at his cocky confidence. He wasn’t wrong, though. You had never been good at staying still, at obeying the invisible rules set up by adults. With no living relatives to share your name, Paul was more than just a best friend – he was all you had. Him and Duke Leto, whose unwavering sense of duty made him take you in at the Castle when your parents died on a mission he orchestrated. Responsibility above all else, all the qualities he aimed at instilling in his young son. And it couldn’t hurt Paul to have a friend his own age, could it?
You slipped into his room, both of you giggling like you’d just played the best prank on his sleeping parents. His bed was huge for a 7-year-old, more space than one boy could ever need regardless of his nobility. Tonight, it was your playground, stretching for miles.
Paul scrambled up first, then turned and offered you his hand. “Bet you I can jump higher than you,” he said, a challenge clear in his eyes.
You took his hand, pulling yourself up and laughing as the two of you bounced on the mattress, trying to outdo each other in height and bravery. You weren’t worried about waking anyone. Even if Duke Leto found you – and he often did – his stern reprimands were laced with amusement.
This was not the first time the two children had snuck into each other’s rooms after dark, the activity becoming more habit than occasion. Nights like this were your shared rebellion, a refusal to let the day end just because the sun had gone down, just because Jessica had tucked Paul into bed an hour earlier for bedtime.
Eventually, after you had worn yourselves out, you collapsed side by side on the bed, your breaths heavy from laughter. You stared up at the ceiling, still giggling as the adrenaline began to fade.
“I don’t want it to be bedtime ever again,” Paul said, his voice soft, almost wistful.
You turned your head to look at him, sprawled out on the massive mattress, dark hair in his eyes that reflected the dim moonlight streaming through the window. You understood exactly what he meant.
“Me neither,” you replied with a smile. Your hand found his under the covers.
Neither of you moved as your true bedtime took over, the quiet settling in around you, comfortable and warm. You fell asleep like that, fingers intertwined, with no concept of what it meant to have boundaries. There was just Paul, and you, and the night that was never long enough.
***
In the wake of your early teens at the castle, sneaking into each other’s rooms had become less about rebellion and more about comfort. The innocence of bouncing on beds and stifled laughter gave way to whispered conversations in the dark and the shared weight of fears neither of you quite understood yet.
The first time Paul came to your room because of a nightmare, it startled you. You were just about to drift off when you heard the soft creak of your door, followed by the quiet patter of feet. You jerked up from the mess of blankets, blinking into the darkness. Confusion and perhaps a bit of fear grasped you, until you saw his silhouette standing near the edge of your bed.
“Paul?” you whispered, straightening up. “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t answer at first, he didn’t know how. With his tense expression and shadows playing across his face, he looked haunted despite his still small, boy-like frame. You knew him in and out by now, and could clearly read the signs of his nails digging into the skin of his fingers, breathing shallow and uneven.
“Can I stay?” His voice was rougher than usual, like he was barely holding it together.
“Of course.”
You didn’t ask any questions, it was a silent understanding. Instead, you lifted the blanket, making room for him. He crawled in without hesitation, laying his head on the pillow on your left. His body rigid beside yours for a moment before he relaxed, the tension slowly draining away.
Lying there, you listened to the sound of his breathing steadying, feeling the warmth of his presence next to you, arm against arm. It was quiet, but not silent – the kind of quiet that only existed when you knew someone else was there with you. Someone who understood. Someone who would never judge you for being afraid.
In his newfound safety, Paul drifted off easier than he could in his own bed. Yours was significantly smaller, but somehow softer, and he could actually feel the weight of you beside him on the mattress. He could ground himself in your presence. When he fell asleep, his head fell slightly to the side, his hair brushing against your cheek.
You, on the other hand, stayed awake a little longer, staring up at the ceiling, your thoughts racing.
You’d always been each other’s rock, but now, something was different. The comfort you found in his presence was deeper, more profound. It wasn’t just about not wanting to be alone anymore, it was about needing him specifically. It brought a smile to your face to know that he found that same assurance in you.
***
The weights on your shoulders materialised and became clearer as you grew beside each other. At sixteen, the favours Duke Leto had bestowed upon you by allowing you residence and education at Caladan felt like a debt more than a blessing. One you had to repay through excellence, through true devotion to any and all training given to you. While Paul tried to seem more lighthearted about it all, it could be felt in the air all the same. You were no longer just two children sneaking around a castle that seemed to never end. You were a future duke and a noblewoman-in-training, navigating a world that seemed to have its eyes on you at every moment.
To earn your gifted title and position and prove yourself worthy of your place as Paul’s friend, you poured over every textbook your teachers assigned you. The study of Caladan, of politics, traditions and customs occupied your mind to the extent that you neglected the occupant of your heart.
Yet, at late hours, it was always Paul’s bedroom floor the pair found themselves splayed across.
Sheets of notes, pens and books layed on top of themselves in a system neither of you could have been able to explain to an outsider. Paul against the wall with his notebook, you stomach-down on the carpet, nose buried between the words in your textbook.
“You’re going to wear yourself out.” Paul’s words were muttered, watching you through tired eyes.
You shook your head. “I’m fine. Just one more chapter.”
“You said that an hour ago.”
“I mean it this time.”
Paul didn’t argue, but you could feel his eyes on you as you worked, his presence a quiet comfort beside you. It had become routine, the two of you studying together, you claimed you worked better that way. Paul occasionally asking questions while you tried to focus on your own work but more often than not, you ended up helping him instead of yourself.
Your one-more-chapter became two more as you tried to retain the information, but your eyelids grew heavier, your focus slipping. The same sentence became burned into your retinas without making much more sense.
Ever so slowly, your head was brought closer and closer to the ink. Eventually it was all you could see before your cheek hit the page – you were out as a light.
Paul watched you for a moment, a soft smile playing on his lips. This was not the first time. He closed his own book and moved quietly to your side. He brought a finger up to brush some of your hair out of your face before he rolled you over. Gently, he lifted you, careful not to wake you as he carried you to the bed. His bed.
It had almost become part of the routine, he watches you exhaust yourself and then ensures you get the rest you deserve. He had done this before, but each time, it made his chest tighten more in ways he didn’t fully understand.
As he laid you down delicately, he hesitated by your side for just a moment, watching the rise and fall of your chest, the peaceful expression on your face. He didn’t realise how often he found himself staring at you like this, wondering when the girl who used to be his playmate had become someone he couldn’t stop thinking about. Someone he wanted to protect, to keep close, even as you worked yourself to the bone. He wanted to tell you you didn’t have to, that he knew and that you were enough. Instead, he let his instinct win and lightly caressed the soft flesh of your arm.
After a brief pause, Paul pulled the covers over you and sat on your edge of the bed for a while longer. He was tired himself, but he didn’t want to move. Not just yet.
***
The past few months felt as if they stretched on for years with how much change and development you were faced with, almost forcefully. Despite your efforts, the older you got, the more you felt like a young girl attempting to parade as a grown woman ready for whatever duties Duke Leto sees fit of you, as a “noblewoman” without any true blood given nobility.
Paul had been dancing around your worries for a while now, cutting off your worried rants with funny quips and dragging you from the library or training room to the beach when he believed you too worrisome. However, his duties were catching up to him as well, even when he tried to balance on the beam with you. He would be a duke one day, and though he had acted like a prince all his life, this was much more real.
His duties were specifically catching up to him in the form of one Lady Jessica. Reminders, comments, requests to his teachers and staff. She wanted him to start becoming the man he needs to be.
One of her lectures was playing out before your eyes in the library, though it escaped you how it even began. The soft, rhythmic drumming of the rain against the high windows felt like the one thing tethering you this world as she spoke, shadows cast across her face.
Lady Jessica’s voice sliced through the rain, calm but pointed. Leaving the air around you feeling heavy. You sat at a table beside Paul, as she stood above you, a judge passing through your reading session. Her sharp eyes, blue within blue, never seemed to miss anything.
She had always watched you carefully, ever since you were children – though it wasn’t until recently that you noticed how her gaze lingered on you. Emotion indecipherable, yet somehow your stomach seared from it. She was assessing you on criteria it felt you had no control over.
“You’re both approaching the age where things will change,” Jessica said, her gaze flicking between you and Paul. Her tone was deceptively gentle, like the calm before a storm. “You can no longer afford to be... careless.”
There was a long pause, a silence that felt charged with unspoken meaning. Paul shifted beside you, and though you didn’t look at him, you could feel the tension in the way he carried himself, alert, almost defensive.
“I’m not just speaking about duties to the House or the formalities expected of you as you come of age.” Lady Jessica’s eyes rested on you, sharp and assessing. “I’m also speaking about the way you conduct yourselves in your personal relationships.”
Your heart stuttered at the implication, warmth creeping up the back of your neck. You did not wish to dig into the meaning behind her words.
This was not the first time she’d given such a lecture, but it was the first time it felt so personal. So aimed. It was understood she must be referring to the hours upon hours you spent together, including in the moonlight. The quiet moments where you and Paul sought each other out, clinging to your comfort when the world felt too heavy to bear alone.
It was never intended to be anything inappropriate. You were each other’s safety nets, just like you had always been. But still, you felt a pang of shame coil in your chest at the thought of it being seen that way.
“You have been given responsibilities that go beyond your own desires,” Jessica continued, turning slightly toward Paul. “You are the heir to the House of Atreides, Paul. Every decision you make now, every relationship you allow to develop, can impact that legacy.”
Paul’s jaw clenched, and for the first time, you risked a glance at him. His face was unreadable, but the tension in his posture betrayed his discomfort. His eyes flicked to you, worry clouding them more than annoyance at his mother’s words. He searched your face for something, and did not seem happy with what he saw, but you ripped your gaze away a mere second after.
He was not thinking about his legacy. In that moment, all he thought about was you and how you were feeling.
Your stomach twisted, and the weight of it all – the difference in your status, the expectations that shadowed both your lives – seemed too much. Lady Jessica was not wrong, and Gods did you hate it. You glanced down, willing the words to settle somewhere far away, somewhere that wouldn’t hurt so much.
“You must understand,” Jessica said, her voice softer now, but no less firm, “the time for childish games is over. It’s time for both of you to take your roles more seriously. The future will not wait for you to be ready.”
The words hit you harder than they should have, like a reprimand for something you had not yet done but already felt guilty about. You wanted to say something, anything to show that you understood, that you weren’t some distraction pulling Paul away from his responsibilities, but the words stuck in your throat. Instead, you nodded stiffly, keeping your eyes trained on the floor.
Jessica gave a tight-lipped smile you did not see, before turning around to take her leave, pleased with the efficiency of your talk. She was gone, her robes whispering against the stone floor as she left you alone with the silence she had created between you two.
For a long moment, neither of you moved. The weight of Jessica’s words still hung heavy in the room, thickening the air between you. You could feel Paul’s gaze on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him, not yet.
“She didn’t mean it like that,” Paul finally said, his voice low and careful, like he was testing the waters.
When you did not respond, Paul let out a soft sigh, moving his body towards you. “She’s just worried. That’s all. My mother—”
“Your mother is always worried,” you cut in, more sharply than you intended. You could feel the weight of it all pressing down on you. The constant reminders of how you didn’t quite fit into this world of nobility and politics, how your presence was tolerated but not truly embraced by the one woman you wished to be on your side. “And maybe she has a point. I’ve been distracting you. I shouldn’t... I shouldn’t keep coming to you.”
You did not elaborate, you did not need to.
Paul’s expression tightened, and before you could move away, he reached out, gently gripping your hands between his. His touch was warm, grounding, but you tried not to let yourself sink into it.
“No,” he said, his voice firm now. “You haven’t been distracting me. You’ve... you’ve been keeping me sane. It’s not the same thing.”
You swallowed hard, shaking your head again. “But your mother thinks—”
“I don’t care what my mother thinks.”
The words were out of Paul’s mouth before he could stop them, and for a moment, he looked almost startled by his own admission. He blinked, as if trying to make sense of his own boldness, before his grip on your hands tightened just slightly, his eyes locking onto yours.
“I don’t care what she thinks about the time we spend together,” he said, quieter this time, but no less intense. “She doesn’t understand. She doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re drowning, like the world’s pressing in from every side, and you’re just. Alone.”
You looked up at him then, your breath catching at the rawness in his voice. Paul never let anyone see him like this—not even you most of the time, not fully. But now, there was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Desperation, maybe. Or something deeper, something unspoken.
“Whenever I’m with you, it’s the only time I don’t feel that way,” he continued, his voice low, like he was sharing a secret he’d been keeping for too long. “You’re not a distraction. You’re the only thing that keeps me steady.”
Your chest tightened, torn between the overwhelming urge to believe him and the guilt that had been festering inside you since Jessica’s words. You wanted to argue, but the look in his eyes made it impossible to say any words out loud.
So instead, you swallowed your thoughts, pressing them deep down where they couldn’t be reached.
“We just need to be more careful,” you said softly, pulling your hands away from his grasp. Your skin still tingled where his fingers had been. “Your mother’s right. We can’t keep hiding away in each other’s rooms. We can’t... we can’t keep acting like kids.”
Paul’s face fell, the tension in his shoulders sagging slightly. His now-free hands went up to rub at his face before he sighed. “But we’re not acting like kids.”
“Aren’t we?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “We’re literally sneaking into each other’s beds in the middle of the night, Paul. We’re still pretending like nothing’s changed.”
Paul was quiet for a long moment, his eyes flicking away from you, as if he couldn’t bring himself to argue. Maybe because deep down, he knew you were right.
But then, just as the silence between you started to feel unbearable, he spoke again, his voice quieter, but full of conviction.
“Nothing has changed though. Not between us.”
The words lingered in the air, and for the first time in a long while, you didn’t know how to respond. A part of you wanted to believe him, wanted to cling to the idea that no matter what the world threw at you, no matter what Lady Jessica said, you and Paul would always be the same. The same two people who had spent years leaning on each other, who had always been there to catch each other when the ground fell away.
Yet, you knew what Paul’s wishful thinking sounded like more than anyone else. You knew everything about him. And in this moment, you knew he was wrong. No matter how much you both tried to ignore it, the future was closing in around you.
“I should go,” you said quietly, getting up from your seat before he could say or do anything to stop you. “I need to think.”
Paul didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes was enough to keep you rooted in place for just a moment longer, looking down at him. He still looked so young, his eyes so wide. That familiar ache settled in your chest, the same ache that came whenever you thought about what you were trying so hard not to lose.
“I will see you tomorrow,” you said, and with that you left him to sit with the sound of rain drops against glass.
After Jessica’s most pointed lecture, your unease at night, the one you and Paul seemed cursed to be forever plagued by as children of the castle, had only increased. You woke in cold sweat or you did not wake at all – regardless, you stayed in your own bed, never venturing down that familiar path in the hallway. You hugged your knees for comfort.
You were a proper young woman. As you ought to be.
Nothing could get you and Paul to stop spending time with each other entirely though, not his mother and certainly not complicated feelings. There was already a lot of that flowing around anyway.
Classes, meals, walks around the hallways, the occasional silent moment watching the waves side by side in a large window. Never late-night visits. Never lingering too much, especially not around Jessica.
She seemed pleased with your development, so you bit your cheek and played the part.
It had been months since either of you crossed that invisible boundary, but the comfort of those nights lingered in your minds, a shared memory you couldn’t quite let go of. One that you held tight on rough nights.
Ironically enough, it was the nights without thunder or storms that you struggled the most. Gripped by fear and horror, you fought through the worst nightmare you had experienced in many years. Mangled bodies, fire and smoke, Paul’s face distorted by sandstorms that you swear you could feel cut into your fragile skin like class.
The scream was lodged in your throat as you shot up, finally able to pull yourself out of the depths of your consciousness of all that has happened and all you fear will. Drowning in sweat and tears, violently trembling all over, you suddenly found yourself on your feet in the cold hallway.
No coherent thoughts were running through your head, just instinct and an intense need to be saved from your own mind. Even in a waking state, you still felt half infused in the nightmare, seeing the scenes when you blink, as if tattooed on your eyelids.
Almost running down the known path, your hand grazing the wall as you went to stabilise yourself. The rational part of your brain told you it wasn’t appropriate, that you should listen to Jessica, you were both too old to be doing this – but you were not in a rational state of mind right now. Right now you were the same scared little girl you have always been, the one you fear you always will be, and you knew what you needed to do to quiet her screams.
When you reached his door, you paused, your hand hovering over the handle. What if he didn’t want this anymore? What if he would turn you away?
Before you could second-guess yourself further, the door creaked open, and there he was. Paul stood in the doorway, lit up from behind by a single candle on his nightstand. His eyes were wide as he took the sight of you in, but there was no real surprise etched on his face. However, if you weren’t mistaken, you thought you saw relief in it. Like he had been waiting for you, hoping for you to come.
Paul breathed your name out like a ‘thank you’, stepping aside to let you in before you could even speak. His hair was dishevelled, his shirt wrinkled from where he must have been lying awake, staring at the tall ceiling.
You slipped in past him, already feeling some tension leave your body as soon as the door closed behind you. You weren’t sure what to say. Maybe you didn’t need to say anything at all. Letting your eyes meet his, the look on Paul’s face told you everything you needed to know.
Without a word, you moved toward the bed, and Paul followed, his presence a warm, steadying force behind you. He didn’t ask you any questions, he didn’t need to. You both knew that whatever it was, it was enough to bring you here, to him.
You hesitated for just a moment, feeling the weight of the years between you. When you were children, there had been no second thoughts, no hesitation. But now, voices were creeping in – but you shoved them aside like his blankets, and climbed into his bed.
When Paul slid into bed beside you, everything felt right again.
The tension in your body melted away as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. You could hear the steady rhythm of his breathing, feel the warmth of his skin against yours, and suddenly, the fear that had gripped you moments ago faded into nothing.
You rested your head against his chest, closing your eyes as the last of your tremors subsided. He was your anchor, your constant in a world that was rapidly spinning out of control.
“Are you okay?” Paul finally asked, his voice soft, almost a whisper.
You nodded against him, but your throat felt tight, your words stuck behind the weight of everything unsaid. The nightmare had shaken you more than you wanted to admit, and it wasn’t just about the dark images in your head. It was the fear of losing Paul, of losing the one person who had been by your side for as long as you could remember.
“I’m glad you came,” Paul said quietly. “I wanted to come to you, but—” He trailed off, his hand tightening slightly on your shoulder as if to ground himself.
“I know,” you whispered, finally finding your voice. “I wanted to come sooner.”
There was a pause, and then, after a long moment, Paul’s thumb began tracing slow circles on your arm, his touch gentle but deliberate. It was a gesture of comfort, of familiarity.
“I’ll always be here,” he murmured, so softly you almost didn’t hear him. “I swear it.”
You opened your eyes and tilted your head up, meeting his gaze in the dim light. His face was serious, his eyes reflecting the weight of the promise he’d just made. For a brief second, you thought he might say more, something you’d been waiting for but weren’t ready to confront.
Instead, Paul’s expression softened, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, the gesture tender, reassuring. It was something he might have done when you were younger, but now it felt different. It wasn’t just comfort anymore—it was a part of the promise.
Neither of you said anything after that. You simply held each other, letting the quiet settle in. The world outside might have been shifting, changing in ways neither of you could control, but here, in the stillness of the night, there was nothing but you and Paul.
You didn’t know when you fell asleep, only that, for the first time in a long while, you felt safe. And unfortunately, as the next few days would ensure, it was the last time for a long while as well.
***
When Arrakis claimed Duke Leto, it also claimed something inside Paul.
He wasn’t the same after that day. The boy who had been your partner in rebellion, the one who made you laugh even in the darkest of times, had hardened. His grief was silent, buried under layers of duty and survival, but you could see it. It was in the way his hands trembled ever so slightly when he thought no one was looking, the way his eyes had dulled since your arrival on this cursed planet.
In the middle of it all, you felt lost too. You had lost the closest you had to a father figure in Duke Leto, but worse, you were losing Paul—bit by bit, day by day, as he was forced to become someone you struggled to recognise. This was a different kind of nightmare, one you couldn’t wake from.
After growing used to the luxury of Caladan Castle’s beddings, you found yourself huddled with Paul in a small tent in the middle of the desert, the harsh winds of Arrakis howling outside. There was nothing but sand for miles, and for the first time since arriving on this planet, you felt truly untethered from the life you once knew.
Paul sat across from you, his back pressed against the rough fabric of the tent, his face half-shadowed by the faint light from a small glowglobe. His eyes were distant, fixed on something you couldn’t see, something only he could comprehend.
“Paul?” you whispered, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to keep it steady.
He didn’t answer at first, but then, slowly, his gaze shifted to you. There was a fragility there that caught you off guard—a vulnerability that reminded you of the boy you used to sneak around the castle with, the one who used to chase away your fears with a single glance.
Without thinking, you moved closer, kneeling in front of him. His breath hitched as you reached out, gently placing one hand on his arm and the other on his cheek. He looked down at your fingers, as if surprised by the touch, before his eyes met yours again.
You wanted to say something, anything at all, to ease his pain. To take some of the burden off his shoulders, even if that meant taking them upon your own. No words felt worthy enough and died in your throat, while the sentiment remained hot on your tongue.
With Arrakis raging around you, you wanted him to feel some sense of security.
“I’m still here,” you whispered, echoing the words he had said to you when you were the one needing the comfort.
For a moment, he just stared at you. Then, with a twitch of his lips, something cracked in his expression, something that had been carefully held in place to keep it all in. Paul’s shoulders sagged, the weight of loss and doom pressing down on him all at once.
He didn’t say anything, but when you shifted closer and pulled him into your arms, he didn’t resist. He simply let you hold him, his head resting against your shoulder, his breath shaky and uneven.
You sat like that for a long time, wrapped in each other’s presence as the storm outside raged on. The world around you was crumbling, but here, in the faux quiet of the tent, there was nothing but the two of you. You didn’t have words for what you were feeling, but it didn’t matter. Paul understood. He always had.
As if the continued touch broke him, Paul made a sound like a tear-less sob, saving water while still drowning in emotion. His arms tightened around you, holding onto you for dear life.
He murmured something against your neck that you couldn’t hear. You made an inquisitive humming sound as you began to stroke his back, coaxing him through his pain.
“I can’t lose you,” he whispered. His voice was raw, it sent ripples through your heart. “Please.”
“You won’t,” you promised, your fingers moving up to card through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere, Paul. I’ll be right here with you.”
If he wanted to answer, he couldn’t. Instead he let himself have this moment before facing a world that seemed increasingly too big.
***
Life among the Fremen was harsh, unforgiving, but the two of you had learned to survive. It had been weeks since you arrived in the sietch, and every day felt like a battle—against the elements, against the constant threat of danger, against the growing distance between you and the boy you grew up with.
The desert night was deceptively cool, the air carrying a sharpness that contrasted with the oppressive heat of the day. You stood just outside the sietch, gazing up at the unfamiliar stars that stretched endlessly above the dunes. The sky was clear—almost too clear—so different from the comforting overcast of Caladan, the gentle crash of waves a memory long lost to the wind. You inhaled deeply, trying to ground yourself, but the vastness of the desert made you feel small. Disconnected.
There were few quiet moments here, and you took a deep breath as you were surrounded by it.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
There was a shuffle of footsteps behind you, soft but deliberate. Without turning, you of course knew it was Paul. He came up behind you, standing slightly to your left so you could see him in your sideview. You leaned back, resting your shoulder on his own.
You smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Paul laughed lowly – some things never change. “Neither could I.”
You shook your head, still staring at the stars. “I don’t know if I’ve had a proper night’s sleep since we left Caladan.”
“I miss the rain,” Paul said quietly. “I never thought I would. I used to complain about it when we were kids.”
You smiled faintly. “Don’t lie, you hated being inside when it rained. You’d drag me out into the mud even when it was pouring.”
He let out a soft chuckle. “Well, you never said no.”
“I never could.”
There was a pause, one that carried the weight of the past few months – Arrakis, the loss of Duke Leto, the constant struggle for survival. The two of you had grown so used to moving, fighting, planning for the next step, that there had been no time to sit with your grief. No time to just be, in the way you only can with each other.
“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Paul murmured, glancing at you sideways. “How quickly everything changes. A few months ago, we were on Caladan, complaining about studies, sneaking into each other’s rooms like we always used to... and now–”
“We’re here,” you finished for him, your voice quieter. “In the middle of the desert.”
Paul’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, and you felt the weight of his gaze. You’d been through so much together, seen so much of each other, in ways no one else had. Yet there was still a distance between you now, a hesitation that hadn’t been there when you were younger.
It was as though you both knew you were standing on the edge of something, but neither of you dared to cross it.
“I was thinking...” Paul started, his voice trailing off. He looked away, frowning slightly as if choosing his words carefully. “Would it be... strange if you stayed with me tonight? Just for comfort, I mean.”
Your heart skipped, somehow caught off guard by the question. There had been so many nights, both as children and as teenagers, where you had found solace in each other’s company. Whether from nightmares, from stress, or simply because being apart felt wrong.
“Not strange, anyone would need a bit of comfort in our situation,” you tried at humour before looking back at him with soft eyes.
He didn’t say anything, seemingly trapped between his thoughts. Usually when you spend the night together lately it was because of difficult emotions. You open the door for him to talk about his feelings.
“Are you– are you okay?” you asked, searching his face for the answer.
Paul was always the one holding everything together, always taking on the weight of his responsibilities without complaint. But tonight, standing under the cold desert sky, he seemed tired. Tired in a way that went beyond just sleepless nights.
He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked out over the dunes, his expression unreadable, though the subtle tightening of his jaw told you he was wrestling with something.
“I’ve been thinking about my father,” he finally said, his voice thick with the grief he rarely let slip. “About everything he wanted for me. For us. How he wanted me to be a ruler who led with compassion, but how can I...?” He trailed off, swallowing hard, and you could see the battle raging behind his eyes.“I don’t know if I can be what he wanted.”
Your heart ached at his words. You had always known Paul felt the weight of his future, but you hadn’t realised how deeply it cut. Stepping closer, you touched his arm lightly, drawing his attention back to you.
“You already are,” you said softly. “Even in the middle of all this, Paul, you haven’t lost that part of yourself. Your father would see that.”
He exhaled shakily, meeting your gaze, and for a moment, it felt like the world fell away. There was a vulnerability there, one he rarely let show. It made something inside you shift, as though the careful lines you had mentally drawn to protect yourself, to keep things unchanged between you, were suddenly blurring.
“I’m just afraid of losing more,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Of losing everyone I care about. Losing you.”
The words settled heavily in the space between you, a truth that had always lingered but was now undeniable. You were no longer just childhood friends. You were no longer just companions trying to survive. There was a throne in your heart, and on it, Paul was more than just a duke.
“You won’t lose me,” you said firmly, turning towards him and stepping even closer. “You couldn’t. I’m here, Paul, I’ve always been here.”
Paul stared at you, his expression shifting into something you couldn’t quite place. His eyes softened, the hard edges that had been carved into him by grief and duty melting away, if only for a moment. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at you now, something that had been building for years but had never quite been said aloud.
“You don’t understand,” Paul whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I can’t lose you. Not just because you’re the last piece of Caladan I have left... but because I—”
He stopped, his throat working as if the words were too hard to say. But you knew what he meant. You’d always known, hadn’t you?
Paul took a step closer, the last step separating his body from yours. His hand lifted to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers lingered at the base of your neck, and you were sure he could feel the rapid beat of your heart in your pulsepoint. It echoed the weight of what he wasn’t saying.
“You can say it,” you whispered, your voice trembling, though you weren’t sure if it was from fear or anticipation.
Paul’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he looked like he was on the verge of stepping back, of retreating into that familiar space where he could hide from the truth. But then his palm made contact with the side of your neck, and he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. Breathing in deeply, slowly.
“I love you,” he whispered, the words tumbling out like a secret he had been holding onto for too long. “I have loved you for so long, and I didn’t even realise it. But now, I can’t stop thinking about it. About you.”
Your heart stuttered at the confession, your breath catching in your throat. It wasn’t a declaration shouted from the rooftops, it wasn’t a grand, romantic gesture. It was quiet, real, the kind of love that had grown slowly over years, woven into every shared moment, every laugh, every late-night conversation.
“And I love you,” you whispered back, the words barely audible in the quiet of the desert night. “You’re my best friend, my person. You must know that.”
Paul let out a soft, almost relieved breath, his hand moving up to cup your cheek as he tilted your face up to meet his. There was a question in his eyes, one he didn’t need to ask. You answered it by leaning in, lips barely brushing against his, before he closed the final gap with the gentlest of kisses. He was tentative, as though testing the waters of something new, something fragile but real.
It was a kiss that felt like a promise.
It lingered, even when he pulled back ever so slowly, resting his forehead back against yours.
You both stood there in the quiet, the weight of the desert and the night around you, but the tension between you finally dissipating through your touches.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” Paul whispered again, his voice steady this time, though the vulnerability was still there, just beneath the surface.
“I will stay with you every night, if that would make you happy.” There was no hesitation in your voice or your heart. Just love.
A smile spread on his face before he pressed it against your lips in another kiss. Searing, caring, passionate. This was the closest you have seen him to his old boyish self, always happy to bask in your presence.
Letting his hand travel down to find yours, he interlaced your fingers and pulled you back into the sietch.
His room was small, barely big enough for the both of you, a stark contrast to your conditions at Caladan. But as you lay down beside each other, it didn’t matter, you were glad for the excuse to keep him even closer. Paul wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly, and for the first time since Arrakis had stolen everything from you, you felt safe. Safe in the knowledge that whatever came next, whatever trials the desert or the universe had in store, you wouldn’t face them alone.
As you lay in his arms, your head resting against his chest, you whispered, “We’ll get through this, Paul. Together.”
Paul’s grip tightened around you, and you could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.
“We will,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Not ever.”
“And I you. No matter what, my love.”
Warmth spread across Paul’s face at the name. He thought, with sleep beginning to cloud his mind, that though there are many uncomfortable changes – that is one he will happily accept.
For the first time in weeks, you both fell asleep easily, wrapped in the comfort of each other, and the quiet promise of the love that had finally, after all these years, been released into dry air.
#dune#dune part 1#dune part 2#paul#paul atreides#paul atreides x reader#paul atredies x you#timothee chalamet#timothee x reader#paul x reader#paul atreides fluff#paul atreides angst#paul atreides smut#childhood friends to lovers#dune movie#dune 2#house atreides#lady jessica#duke leto#duke leto atreides#paul muad'dib#cuddles#sharing bed#paul atreides cuddles#hurt/comfort#paul atreides hurt/comfort#fremen#timothee chalamet x reader
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more percy jackson headcanons, as a treat:
- will’s bi awakening was one of three things: harry styles in one direction (and he had an ipod with almost exclusively taylor swift and 1d songs downloaded on it, this totally isn’t me projecting), the baseball scene from twilight, or rodrick in diary of a wimpy kid (my boy has a type)
- inspired by the one at my school, the aphrodite cabin has a gender-affirming closet where campers can donate their clothes and trans campers can get new clothes for free
- will convinced chiron to give nico two hours of exemption from camp activities. the goal was for him to take a nap, but nico usually ends up tailing will around the infirmary or playing with/sorting his mythomagic cards on the floor of his cabin. will has long since given up trying to get nico to cooperate
- dionysus always knows which campers are queer, sometimes years before they come out. he was literally counting down the days until nico told him that he asked will to be his boyfriend
- percy has a list of every fact that annabeth has ever told him about architecture or historical monuments because he wants to memorize them all
- percy and thalia go thrifting together sometimes
- despite living in the lotus hotel and casino for like 70 years and being a huge mythomagic nerd, nico is notoriously terrible at card games no matter how many times dionysus tries to teach him. the only reason dionysus still plays with him is because he knows he’ll win, and chiron is unfortunately getting better at pinochle
- he’s scary good at most video and arcade games though. percy tried playing mario kart with him when he was home for christmas break. nico’s no longer allowed to play any video games at the jackson-blofis household for the sake of percy’s ego
- percy raised his dorm room bed and immediately had to lower it the next day because he fell out of it in the middle of the night. he’s never told annabeth because he’s too embarrassed
- the hunters of artemis have an entire horde of stray dogs that follow them around because reyna keeps adopting them
- bianca had a spice girls cd and an abba cd and would play them until they were too scratched up to keep playing. nico hated it. they’re still not really his taste in music, but he listens to them every now and then when he really misses her
- percy is neither an early bird nor a night owl. when he doesn’t have school or camp he doesn’t get up until ten, and he’s literally never seen the ball drop on new year’s eve
- the jackson-blofis family are the only mortals—besides rachel of course—allowed at camp. sally and paul always leave estelle with a babysitter (tyson) when the visit though, because they want to protect her from the mythological world as much as possible
- percy can’t carry a tune to save his life, but he’s started teaching himself guitar, and practices in the apollo cabin
- annabeth’s favorite snack is annie’s cheddar bunnies and she has a soft spot for country music
- piper and leo have matching friendship bracelets. they also have three-way ones with percy because he half-jokingly said he felt left out
- will smokes weed with drew on his (very rare) breaks from the infirmary because it helps his anxiety. they get it from the dionysus cabin and like to do it on the big house porch, but only when will’s sure nico isn’t over there because he doesn’t like the smell
- ganymede sneaks out in the middle of the night to visit percy while he’s at college, but when sally answers the door of their apartment instead, she invites him inside and the two of them talk over blue chocolate chip cookies until the sun rises and he has to return to olympus before zeus finds him missing. turns out the two of them (sadly) have a lot in common
pt. 1
#girlblogging#percy jackson#nico di angelo#piper mclean#percy jackson headcanon#this is a girlblog#annabeth chase#chb#pjo hoo toa tsats#the chalice of the gods#will solace#dionysus#drew tanaka#sally jackson#paul blofis#apollo cabin#percabeth#solangelo#percy jackson headcanons#estelle blofis#reyna avila ramirez arellano#thalia grace#hunters of artemis#chiron#ganymede#leo valdez#mythomagic
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Haunted
Poly! The Lost Boys x GN! Reader
A/n: This started as a drabble. Oh well. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Word count: 1.7k
Warning: mention of injury
Prompt: "I'm pretty sure it was a ghost." / "I'm pretty sure it's not." / "Oh really?" / "Ghosts don't bleed."
Summary: After days of running you finally find shelter, both literally and figuratively.
Your panting filled the silence of the empty room, echoing back from the walls of the run down house you were hiding in. It was clear it has been standing abandoned for many years, decay and nature slowly sneaking in through the cracks and taking over. Lucky for you, one of the windows in the back was shattered, probably adventurous teens exploring the place since the door has been boarded up. It was a good enough hiding place for now.
A wave of pain shot through your shoulder as you tried to find a more comfortable seating position against the wall of the kitchen, a nice reminder that you weren’t out of the woods yet. You had been running for days, your body growing more and more exhausted. It looked like you finally managed to lose the hunter chasing you, at least for now. Hopefully, you can spend the day here sleeping.
The next big problem was your shoulder. You had no idea what he shot you with, but it wasn’t healing, not like you usually do. You were more resilient than humans of course, but if you didn’t find some help and soon, you would bleed out.
As you were thinking through your options, trying not to lose yourself to the fear gripping your lungs like a vice at your hopeless predicament, you heard gravel crunch outside. You were instantly on alert, quieting down your breathing, fight or flight taking over once again. You got ready to run if need be. It was possible that it was just some critter scurrying away in the dark, you thought, but then the sound came again and it was clearly something bigger, walking on two feet. As they got closer, you could make out three, four different pair of footsteps. It was not your pursuer, but that didn’t mean they were friendly. In your current state, you didn’t want to risk getting into an altercation with four people, even if they were just ordinary humans. Finally, you could hear them talking too.
“You think it’s haunted?”
“What’s the matter, Paul? Are you chicken?”
“Shut up, Marko. I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Oh, really? Then why don’t you go in first?”
“I will! I’ll show you!”
You heard wood splintering, and it became clear that they were ripping off the wooden planks from the door.
“It looks like no one has been here for a while. I wonder why the humans avoid it so much.” It was a calmer voice that spoke up next, and your brain subconsciously picked up on his word choice.
‘Humans’? Is it possible…?
“I heard that there has been a murder. A man slaughtered his entire family. They probably think it’s cursed.” This one sounded amused, like he was laughing at the fear of others.
“You hear that, Paulie? It’s definitely haunted.”
“Man, shut up!”
They finished dismantling the barricade and the front door swung open with a loud creek. You didn’t take your eyes off the opening connecting the kitchen to the hallway, just a few doors down from the main entrance. As you were slowly and silently backing up to another door behind you, leading to the living room with the broken window, your only escape route, you bumped into a small dresser. To your horror, a glass tipped over and shattered on the floor. Your senses were probably dulled from exhaustion, otherwise you wouldn’t have made such a stupid mistake.
“What was that?”
“Maybe it was a ghost. Let’s go and say hi.”
The footsteps approached and you quickly turned the corner into the living room, just in time to hear them step into the kitchen. They were too close. Then you heard a high-pitched screech, and someone fell over laughing.
“What the hell, Marko? Not cool, man, not cool! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“You should have seen your face! Ow! Stop punching me!”
“What’s going on, boys?” The other two arrived to the kitchen as well.
“That glass broke, and I think I saw something move through that door over there. I’m pretty sure it was a ghost.” The voice belonging to ‘Paul’ said.
“I’m pretty sure it’s not.” It was the calm one this time.
“Oh really? How do you know, Dwayne?”
“Ghosts don’t bleed.”
Silence. Shit. Some of your blood was probably smeared on the wall you were leaning against earlier. You eyed the window. If you could make it there and get outside, the way is clear to the tree line. You can hide in the woods. But if you make a run for it, they would definitely hear it. Oh well, it’s not like you had anything to lose. You glanced back one more time towards the door to the kitchen before quickly turning around to bolt. You didn’t even make it two steps before bumping into something solid and someone grabbed hold of your arms. You panicked, clawing and scratching and hitting any surface you could reach, struggling and hissing, but you couldn’t overpower them. Myriad thoughts were running through your terrified brain. How is this possible? Why can’t I get free? I’m injured and exhausted, but I should still be stronger than an ordinary human. What are they going to do to me? Is this where I die?
“Look what we have here, boys,” came an amused voice from above you, and as you looked up, you stared into the striking blue eyes of the stranger. You quickly took in the scruffy face and the bleached blond mullet before trying to get away once again. You could sense the others stepping into the room behind you. You were surrounded. In your last desperate attempt you vamped out, baring your sharp teeth and hissing in the stranger’s face. His expression changed instantly, the smirk melting off his face. But instead of jerking away from you in fear, his brows furrowed, a frown turning down the corners of his mouth.
“They are one of us,” you heard from behind. The man holding your arms was looking you over more carefully now, his scowl deepening at the sight of your frantic eyes and torn clothes, gaze immediately drawn to your wounded shoulder, still oozing blood through your shirt. His eyes finally met yours once again, now full of concern and, to your amazement, glowing yellow in the dark.
“What happened to you, sweetheart?” His voice was so gentle. You felt tears gathering in your eyes and slowly running down your cheeks as you collapsed in his arms, relief flooding your body. They were like you. They can help you. You’re finally safe. The word safe ran through your head over and over again. He wrapped you up in his arms, his hand running up and down your back in a soothing manner, letting you cry into his shoulder.
After your sobs quietened down, he led you over to the beaten up old couch, letting go of you in the process, but staying close. As you wiped the tears from your eyes, your vision becoming clearer, you saw three guys standing over you, all of them full of genuine concern. The one next to you spoke up again.
“I’m David, and this is my pack,” he motioned to the others. One of them, a blond with a friendly smile sat down on your other side.
“I’m Paul, this is Marko,” the one with the colorful jacket and curly hair waved, ”and the big, brooding fella is Dwayne.” He nodded at you in greeting. “What’s your name, dollface?” You muttered out your name, voice still thick from crying. Paul’s smile brightened, immediately making you at ease, your body finally starting to relax.
“What happened to you?” It was David who spoke up again, his voice somber and his face serious.
“Hunter,” you whispered out and they went rigid. You continued. “He’s been chasing me for days. I finally managed to lose him a few towns over, then I found this place. I thought I can hide here for a bit, get some sleep.” Your hand went to your shoulder, their eyes following the movement. “He shot me with something two days ago. I don’t know what it was, but I’m not healing.”
Paul drew in a sharp breath beside you, and you could see from the corner of your eyes as Marko started pacing around, his hands clenching and unclenching in anger. His steps echoed loudly in the silence following your admission.
“What do we do now?” Dwayne asked, his gaze full of determination.
David looked straight at you, his voice calm as he started speaking, but his eyes echoed the same sentiment you saw in all of them. They were not going to let anything happen to you.
“We’re taking you to Max, our sire. He will figure it out what you were shot with and how to deal with it.” He softened a bit as he added. “You’re safe. You’re one of us now.”
This brought fresh tears to your eyes and for the first time in many days, a smile tugged up the corner of your lips.
“Thank you,” you whispered, voice full of emotion.
As you moved to stand up, your legs gave out. Your body has been running on pure adrenaline for a while, not being able to feed while being chased, and it looked like it finally has caught up to you. Before you could collapse to the floor, steady hands took hold of you and you were hoisted from the ground. Looking up, you were met with Dwayne’s warm brown eyes.
“You can rest now,” he said, sending you a small smile as he carried you out the front door, away from the house, away from the fear and desperation. Listening to the murmuring of the others talking, exhaustion finally took you over, resting your head against Dwayne’s solid chest, his steps lulling you to sleep. The future looked just a little bit brighter.
#tlb 1987#the lost boys 1987#the lost boys x reader#the lost boys paul#the lost boys marko#the lost boys david#the lost boys dwayne#tlb david#tlb marko#tlb paul#tlb dwayne
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Formula 1 & 2 Masterlist
This is just where you can find all of my Fics (will be updated as I post)
I give no one permission to use or rewrite my work (not that it’s any good)
Reblogs are welcomed and encouraged!
there’s gonna be much much much more, i promise. i’ll write one fic and then a different type of fic with a different person pops in my head and i have to start writing that one so i can have it in my drafts
thank you and enjoy (pls send requests too)
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F1 & 2 MASTERLIST PT2
Logan Sargeant:
Therapy
Therapy pt2 (coming soon)
Too Good To Say Goodbye (SNEAK PEAK)
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt1
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt2
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt3
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt4
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt5
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt6
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt7
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt8
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt9
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt10
Earned It
Logan Sargeant SMAU
Anyone But Me
Texting The F1 Guys Song Lyrics
You Shouldn’t Have Done That
Why Are You Dating Me (SMAU)
I Don't Feel Good (SMAU)
Work Surprises with the F1 Boys
Texting F1 Drivers About Character Deaths
Love Doesn’t Have To Hurt
Broken Circuits (not posted yet)
Lando Norris:
Lonely Christmas
You're Dead To Me
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt2
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt3
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt4
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt5
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt6
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt7
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt8
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt9
Too Good To Say Goodbye pt10
Texting The F1 Guys Song Lyrics
You Shouldn’t Have Done That
Why Are You Dating Me (SMAU)
I Don't Feel Good (SMAU)
The Smallest Man Who Ever lived
Work Surprises with the F1 Boys
Take It Like A Good Girl
Texting F1 Drivers About Character Deaths
Love Doesn’t Have To Hurt
Yours For The Taking
Carlos Sainz:
imgonnagetyouback
Texting The F1 Guys Song Lyrics
Why Are You Dating Me (SMAU)
I Don't Feel Good (SMAU)
Work Surprises with the F1 Boys
Texting F1 Drivers About Character Deaths
Love Doesn’t Have To Hurt
Yours For The Taking
Charles Leclerc:
Texting The F1 Guys Song Lyrics
Why Are You Dating Me (SMAU)
I Don't Feel Good (SMAU)
Work Surprises with the F1 Boys
Texting F1 Drivers About Character Deaths
Daniel Ricciardo:
Texting The F1 Guys Song Lyrics
Why Are You Dating Me (SMAU)
I Don't Feel Good (SMAU)
Work Surprises with the F1 Boys
Texting F1 Drivers About Character Deaths
Lewis Hamilton:
Show Me
PillowTalk
Wide Awake
Texting The F1 Guys Song Lyrics
Why Are You Dating Me (SMAU)
I Don't Feel Good (SMAU)
Work Surprises with the F1 Boys
Texting F1 Drivers About Character Deaths
Oscar Piastri:
Texting The F1 Guys Song Lyrics
Give Into The Temptation
Why Are You Dating Me (SMAU)
I Don't Feel Good (SMAU)
The Smallest Man Who Ever lived
Work Surprises with the F1 Boys
Texting F1 Drivers About Character Deaths
Broken Circuit (not posted yet)
Practice
George Russell:
Texting The F1 Guys Song Lyrics
Why Are You Dating Me (SMAU)
I Don't Feel Good (SMAU)
Work Surprises with the F1 Boys
Texting F1 Drivers About Character Deaths
I Need You (not posted yet)
Max Verstappen:
Texting The F1 Guys Song Lyrics
Why Are You Dating Me (SMAU)
I Don't Feel Good (SMAU)
Work Surprises with the F1 Boys
Texting F1 Drivers About Character Deaths
Lance Stroll:
imgonnagetyouback
Texting The F1 Guys Song Lyrics
Why Are You Dating Me (SMAU)
I Don't Feel Good (SMAU)
Work Surprises with the F1 Boys
Texting F1 Drivers About Character Deaths
I'm Sorry (not posted yet)
Pierre Gasly:
Work Surprises with the F1 Boys
Texting F1 Drivers About Character Deaths
Arthur Leclerc:
Please Don't Leave Me Like That Again.
Texting F1 Drivers About Character Deaths
Paul Aron:
Practice
#charles leclerc#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#f1 smut#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#lando norris#lewis hamilton#smut#angst#hurt/comfort#fluff#lemon#oscar piastri scenario#lando norris fanfic#lando norris smut#lando norris imagine#lando x reader#logan sargeant smau#logan sargeant#logan sargent x reader#logan sergeant imagines#logan sargeant angst#paul aron smut#pierre gasly imagine#paul aron x reader#paul aron#arthur leclerc fanfic
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Attracted to U | F2 (kimi bday celly!)
type :: fluff tw/cw :: sex joke (ollie) contains :: kimi!, ollie, pepe request :: attracted to u by pinkpantress w ollie, paul, kimi, pepe (damn u guys really love this quad LOL - but im a littleee tired so i didn't do paul for this :( sorry love!) link to kimi bday celly!
Kimi Antonelli | 04
When Kimi sees Ollie Bearman come into the room, he instantly starts to panic. Not because he doesn't like Ollie, quite the opposite, they're very close friends. But he panics because he knows any and every girl falls for him, and he does not want you to be another one of his fan girls - or even worse, for Ollie to crush on you as well.
But it's too late, it's as if you both charmed each other the second you laid eyes on each other. With a simple greeting, Kimi could already tell that Ollie had a small liking towards you and you felt the same - which only gave Kimi one idea: he must ruin this.
From that day on, he tries to give both of you the ick for each other. He tells you how Ollie can be a slob at times, how he's a slow texter, and how he has a crazy ex girlfriend. He tells Ollie how you're sometimes emotionally unavailable, how busy you are with school, and how your friends are kinda weird. He's doing everything he can to make you both seem like the last person on Earth that you'd want to date.
Ollie Bearman | 87
Although Ollie is a heartthrob, there's another guy on the grid that makes more than heart's throb, and that's Paul Aron. The same exact guy who suddenly started flirting with you right after Ollie brought you to the celebration party from his win. Although Ollie won the race, he felt like the biggest loser as he watched Paul make you laugh.
He knows it's slightly petty, but he can't help but try to butt in and ruin it for you both a bit. He knows Paul would respect Ollie's wish to leave you alone, he just needed to do it subtly so you didn't know. As he walks over to you and Paul, Ollie sneaks as arm over your shoulder - sending Paul a look that says "I called dibs".
Paul catches on and just nods, disappointment that you're already being sought after from Ollie. But as Paul leaves, he whispers into Ollie's ear, "If you mess up, then I call dibs." Instantly, Ollie is a bit offended, but he doesn't worry too much since he's sure that he'll never ever lose you once he gets you - he'll make sure of it.
Pepe Marti | 21
One thing about Pepe, is that he's possessive. Although you're not his yet, he's already called dibs in his mind. So when he see's the new prodigy Kimi Antonelli trying to flirt with you, he's instantly walking up to you two to stop it. But, he's still polite about it, he's never rude to Kimi because he knows that Kimi isn't aware of Pepe's secret crush on you.
He'll walk up to you both, sneakily putting his hand on your waist - something you gasp at lightly since he's never done that before. Although he's not super threatened by Kimi, he just wants to be sure that Kimi gets the hint. Pepe knows you won't think too much of his touch, since you're kind of oblivious.
Kimi gets the hint and backs off, which makes Pepe sigh in relief. He's not the type to share, whether you're dating or not.
#f1#f2#andrea kimi antonelli#kimi antonelli#kimi antonelli x reader#ollie bearman#ollie bearman x reader#pepe marti#pepe marti x reader#f1 x reader#f2 x reader#formula 1#formula 2#formula 1 x reader#formula 2 x reader
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1 night – charles leclerc x reader / pt one
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
song: Mura Masa and Charli xcx – 1 Night
summary: carting would be boring, right?
wc: 1.3k / part two
The sun was setting over the French Riviera, casting a warm golden glow over the Circuit Paul-Ricard. It felt almost surreal, being here on your first proper vacation in what felt like forever. You and your friends had decided to spend a few days in the south of France, drawn in by the beauty of the coastline and the excitement of the 42-hour charity race honoring Jules Bianchi.
Your friends were participating in the race, a grueling endurance event that brought together professional and amateur drivers, all racing for a cause close to their hearts. The paddock was alive with energy, filled with people from all over, and the atmosphere was electric. You were there to support your friends, but among the throngs of racers and fans, you couldn’t help but feel a little out of place.
It was late in the afternoon, and the event was in full swing. Among the drivers was none other than Charles Leclerc, a familiar face to anyone even slightly interested in Formula 1. You’d seen him countless times on TV, but seeing him here in person—so effortlessly commanding attention—was something else entirely. You stood near the edge of the paddock, watching the cars blur past on the track, their engines roaring in the distance. The atmosphere was thick with excitement, but your mind wandered, appreciating the beauty of the night more than the race itself. The sky had turned into a canvas of orange and pink, reflecting off the sleek race cars as they zoomed by.
The chatter of people surrounded you, but you felt strangely at ease, content to enjoy the race from afar. That’s when you noticed him—Charles Leclerc. He was standing nearby, surrounded by a small group of people. His presence was unmistakable, his white racing suit contrasting with the evening’s golden light.
You couldn’t help but sneak glances at him, taking in the way he laughed and interacted with those around him. He seemed so at ease, despite the high-stakes race ahead. Suddenly, as if sensing your gaze, his eyes met yours. It was just for a moment, but the connection was electric, sending a jolt through you.
You quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in the race, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw Charles break away from his group. Heart pounding, you tried to compose yourself as you felt him approach.
“Hey, I haven’t seen you around here before,” Charles said, his voice smooth and easy, laced with curiosity.
You turned, slightly startled to find him standing so close. He was even more striking up close, his brown eyes bright with interest. For a second, you were lost for words.
“I… I’m just here with some friends,” you managed, your voice surprisingly steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. “They’re racing in the charity event.”
Charles nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “That’s cool. It’s a great cause. I haven’t seen you at any of the other races before, though.” His tone was playful, but there was an underlying sincerity to it.
You shrugged, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “I’m more of a spectator than a racer. This is actually my first time at something like this.”
Charles’ smile widened, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “A first-timer, huh? Well, I promise we don’t bite—most of the time,” he teased, his gaze flickering over your face as if studying your reaction. There was something disarming about his charm, the way he managed to be both confident and approachable at the same time.
You laughed, the sound coming out more natural than you expected. “I think I can handle it.”
“I’m sure you can,” he replied smoothly, his tone suggesting more than just handling the race. For a moment, you wondered if you were imagining the flirtation in his voice, but then his eyes lingered on yours a second too long, confirming what you had suspected.
There was a brief pause as the two of you stood there, the sounds of the race and the crowd blending into the background. You could feel the tension building, the air between you thick with something unspoken.
“So, what brings you to this race specifically?” Charles asked, tilting his head slightly as if genuinely curious.
“My friends are competing, and they convinced me to tag along,” you explained, gesturing toward the track. “It’s a good excuse for a little french getaway.”
Charles chuckled softly, nodding. “France has that effect. And your friends—are they any good, or should I be worried?”
“They’re decent,” you replied with a grin, “but I think they’d be honored to be in the same race as you, let alone competing against you.”
“Flattering,” he said, the corners of his lips quirking up. “But I’ll keep an eye out for them.”
The way he said it, casual yet meaningful, made your heart race. He was clearly interested in more than just small talk. You felt the urge to keep the conversation going, but before you could think of something to say, he glanced at the paddock and then back at you.
“Would you like a tour of the paddock?” he offered, his voice a little quieter now, like it was a secret between just the two of you. “I can show you around, maybe introduce you to a few people.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the invitation. You hadn’t expected this, but the chance to spend more time with Charles—away from the crowd, with his attention fully on you—was tempting.
“That sounds great,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.
As he led you toward the paddock, you walked side by side, his arm occasionally brushing against yours. The proximity sent a thrill through you, and every time you glanced at him, you caught him already looking at you, his eyes soft and curious.
Once inside the paddock, the noise from the crowd seemed to fade, replaced by the hum of the team’s activity. You watched as Charles greeted his team members with easy familiarity, but his attention never strayed far from you. He explained the ins and outs of the race prep, pointing out different areas of the pit lane, his voice low and smooth, as if this was a personal moment just for you.
“And this is where we’ll make history,” Charles said with a grin, stopping in front of his car. “Hopefully.”
You smiled, feeling at ease now in his presence. “No pressure, then.”
“Always pressure,” he replied, but his tone was light, playful.
There was a pause, and you realized how close the two of you were standing. The energy between you had shifted again, this time even more charged than before. You looked up at him, meeting his gaze fully, and for a second, the world around you seemed to disappear.
Charles leaned in slightly, his voice soft as he said, “You know, I’ve been to a lot of races, but I don’t think I’ve ever had a reason to look forward to one like this before.”
Your breath caught in your throat. His words hung in the air, the implication clear, and your pulse quickened at the thought.
Charles leaned in, closing the distance between us. Your lips met in a passionate kiss, the intensity of his emotions pouring into it. He wrapped his arms around you, the kiss deepening as he expressed everything he felt without words.
His hands gently cupped your face, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw as he kissed you more deeply.
Before you could respond, one of his team members called his name from across the paddock, breaking the moment. Charles straightened, glancing over his shoulder before turning back to you with a regretful smile.
“Duty calls,” he said, his tone apologetic but still warm. “But I’ll see you later, right?”
You nodded, feeling a little breathless. “Definitely.”
As he walked away, you watched him go, your heart still racing. The evening had taken an unexpected turn, and something told you this wouldn’t be the last time you crossed paths with Charles Leclerc. Not by a long shot.
Part two
#f1 x reader#f1#f1 one shot#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#charles leclerc#charles x reader#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#formula 1#formula one#formula racing
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Like Looking into a Mirror
(PolyLostBoys x Fem!ArtistReader)
Summary: Being a vampire has it's ups and downs. But one of the biggest downs was that you couldn't see yourself. Whether it be in photographs or reflections. This means that neither of the boys have seen what they themselves look like since they were turned. So when a shy little artist introduces herself to the boys with a painting of all of them they realize they not only know what they look like but also have found their mate.
Santa Carla is a city of opportunity. A place flourishing with job opportunity and people buzzling about everywhere. But for yourself, a struggling artist, it was the opposite. Running away from home was supposed to be your fresh start, a way to get away from it all and live your life to the fullest. To paint to your heart's desire. But it was nothing like that.
There were no places for you to work and use your artistry to the fullest. The only place you found where you could work was the library. Reading itself was an art but not exactly your forte, but it was close enough and payed decently.
It was 8 at night. The sun set and the amusement park alive with people. By the beach wall you sat with a miniature canvas, paints, and brushes. Every night you'd come to the boardwalk and paint it's colorful passerby's. Unlike your old small town people here dressed unique. So many colors and style subcultures.
Scanning the crowd you hunted for your new inspiration. Person or people to replicate onto your canvas. Your direction was pulled to the sounds of purring engines. To your left under a streetlamp by the very wall you were sitting on, four men looking your age parked their bikes. Their fashion stood out amongst anyone you have ever seen on the boardwalk.
A bleached platinum blonde. His mullet stood sharp, almost as sharp as his eyes. A tall brunet with no shirt under his long coat. His long hair rested on his back. A natural blonde with wild hair and a just as wild personality. And finally the short one with long blonde curls and a face that could combat a cherub's.
Everything about them was perfect. You studied them for minutes and looked away when you felt their curious gazes turn to you. Having all their features down to memory you painted away. You painted all of them standing together standing in their own way. Straight and confident, collected and cool, laid back, goofy.
As you painted each of the men's features you smiled to yourself. This may have been one of your best works yet. When you finished the piece in an hour or two you would definitely give it to them as a gift. Usually you would give the paintings you made of people to them to see their reactions. Every time they were always very grateful and happy, seeing them smile is the reason why art is your passion.
You really hope they would appreciate it though, since they are your temporary muse of inspiration and these four seem pretty intimidating.
.
.
"Yeah man I'm telling you she kept looking at us. But when I would look at her she'd look away and start writing shit on her canvas or whatever." Paul said while nudging David. He didn't care when his friend told him that the girl to their right kept sneaking glances at them.
Girls stare at him and his vampiric brothers all the time. What can he say? He knows him and his brothers are hotter than hell so who wouldn't stare?
"What Paul, you wanna talk to her or something? Just go talk to the chick like what you always do." David said with an eyeroll and a freshly lit cigarette hanging from his lips.
Paul bashfully looked down and scratched his neck. "Dude I dunno.. she doesn't seem too interested. Probably looking at us because we dress weird?"
Now David was confused. Was his flirt machine of a brother.. shy? A sly grin curled onto the platinum blondes lips. He looked to Dwayne and Marko and those two seemed to catch on quick about Paul's little crush.
Putting his arm around his blonde brother David said, "Do you perhaps like this girl Pauly?"
Paul growled and shoved him off making Marko and Dwayne holler in laughter.
"Dude you're fucking whipped! Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Marko laughed and held his chest. Paul hit him upside the head with his palm.
"Shut the fuck up!"
Dwayne's laughing reduced to small chuckles. He looked over at the girl who Paul seemed so flustered over. She was wearing a long frilly black skirt and a sage green blouse. Her hair styled uniquely and anklets and bracelets adorned their respected limbs.
"Hm.." Dwayne hummed, "I get what you mean Paul."
Paul shot his taller brother a glare. "Yeah. Should have at least checked her out before makin' fun o' me."
Marko looked over to see what all the fuss was over. His eyes widened a fraction when he saw the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. And she was painting too, something he adored doing.
Sensing someone looking at her Y/n looked up and four pairs of eyes were on her. The eyes of the subjects she was painting at the moment. Feeling like she had been caught doing something wrong, she looked back down at her canvas in a flash and finished up the final finishing touches.
"She was totally checking us out." Paul said smirking, well his insecurity flew out the window.
"Dude she's cute as hell man. How'd we not see her around before? And why didn't you tell us Pauly!" Marko grabbed his terror twin by the shoulders and shook him back and forth.
David snapped his fingers and the two instantly stopped with their rough housing. "We're all going to approach her. Perhaps we will have a meal tonight boys, or more."
Deadly smiles grew on the pack's faces. Time to do what they knew best. Lure and capture.
.
.
You stood up when you finally finished the painting. The four of them painted in their signature clothing. All standing together. Two of them smiling and two not. Honestly, you were scared to give this painting to them. What if they didn't like it? Or what if they thought you were some kind of weird stalker?
Walking to the group of the four bikers they all seemed to perk up at your sudden presence.
"What a surprise, we were just about to walk over to you babydoll." The curly haired one said. Your grip on the canvas tightened. Seeming to notice the tallest and only brunet of the group asked,
"What's that you got there sweetheart?"
Ignoring the soaring feeling in your stomach you avoided eye contact with the group and quietly muttered your explanation, "U-Uhm I'm an artist and stuff... It's a hobby and stuff and I paint people on the board walk all the time. And when I saw a-all you four I couldn't help but notice how uniquely dressed you all are. So I painted all of you!"
Looking up at the group finally with a crooked smile on your face you showed them your work and flipped your canvas around revealing your work.
All four of them brought their faces close to the canvas, the two wild blondes started to push and shove and what seemed like the leader of the group punched both of their arms.
"You really did this?" The platinum blonde said. He looked into your eyes, a mixed emotion behind his. His gloved finger pointed at himself painted realistically.
"That's me?"
You nodded and handed the painting to him which he gently accepted.
"Of course that's you silly. I painted the four of y-you. Hope you all like it!"
The four boys looked up at you gratefully. It was sudden but the brunette pulled you into a hug. He didn't seem like the touchy type and it surprised you with his sudden action.
"Thank you sweetheart. My brothers and I appreciate this... a lot. A lot more than you may think." He released you from his chilling yet warm embrace.
"No need to thank me.."
"Dwayne."
"Dwayne, I do this to make people like you and your brother happy. It's what I love about art ya'know?"
He smiled and introduced each of his brothers. David, Paul, and Marko.
"I am truly grateful for this kitten. Say, you wanna ride with us? You know where Hudson's Bluff is right?"
Nodding you let him continue.
"Wanna hang out with us four for the night? Promise we won't let you be bored for even a minute." His black gloved hand twirled a lock of your h/c hair around his finger.
Shyly moving away you muster up the courage to agree and go with him. He asked who you wanted to ride with and Paul seemed to be the most eager to get you to ride with him, so you gave in and got on the back of his bike.
"Hold on doll!" He revved his engine while his brother did the same. Hooting and hollering they sped down the sandy beach taking you to their cave.
"This is just the beginning!" Paul yelled over the sound of the engines. Not understanding him well you tightened your embrace around his torso and leaned in closer.
"You're gonna love us I promise!" Now that one you heard.
this was lowkey dogpiss but my head hurts so oopsie daisy
#the lost boys x reader#poly lost boys x reader#david the lost boys#paul the lost boys#marko the lost boys#dwayne the lost boys#the lost boys 1987
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Trying Them on for Size
My stepdad's eyes rolled back as my friend leapt into his body. Thanks to my distraction, he had a clear jump, and the possession was instant. The beer in his hand didn't even slip as a new guy took over the thick hunk of meet.
"Goddamn, this guy is big!" my stepdad's voice rumbled in uncharacteristic glee, "My arms feel like a ton heavier with all this muscle!"
"I...I cant believe it worked," I stammer, still processing the fact that Sam, my best friend, is inside Paul, my jerk of a stepfather.
Sam lifts a heavy arm and takes a whiff. "Wow, your dad smells rank! Does the pig shower much?" he groans and laughs, "What'd you say this idiot does again?"
"Mechanic, and he's not my dad," I answer, still trying to get over my nerves, "How's it feel...to be in him?"
"Man, he's so muscular and dense. I mean, I can feel how heavy he is, ya know? He's like really sweaty and kinda gross too, but I feel like I could beat the shit out of anyone right now!"
Sam takes a swig of Paul's beer, making the body look just like the alcoholic stepfather I knew and hated. Normally, I'd avoid the guy at all costs. He'd usually only speak to me in grunts, and that was only when he wasn't ignoring my existence. Now, Sam was using his mouth to yap off like an excited puppy.
I think Sam notices that I'm still a little tense, because he stops staring at his massive arms and puts the beer down. Paul's body steps right against me and grabs my hands as he looks down into my eyes. My stepdad would certainly never have done this before.
"How you doin, man?" Sam asks, but I can't help but feel like Paul is talking.
"Good," I lie, "This is just so surreal."
"Well, what do you want to see your old step daddy do for ya?" he asks playfully, "The jerk is at your whim, dude."
"I don't know..."
"Come on, sonny boy! Wanna watch as daddy Paul gets on his hands and knees and crawls to you?"
Sam pilots the muscular body to the floor, while staring longingly up at me with Paul's normally hateful gaze.
"Wanna see your big bad old man, stick out his tongue and lick your shoes?"
Before I can react, Paul...I mean Sam...has stuck out his tongue and started dragging it up the length of my sneaker. God, the sight of my harsh stepfather licking my shoe is incredible! He'd be so humiliated right now.
Sam pulls away from my feet and up to Paul's knees, "Maybe he needs to find another way to express just how sorry he is to his favorite boy."
Sam's lips hang open as he inches towards my tenting pants. My heart is racing with the anticipation of getting Paul's lips on my aching cock.
"I'm home!" a singsong voice echoes through the house.
"Shit, your mom!" Sam growls with Paul's hoarse voice, "I mean, my wife."
"Shut up," I snap, "Let's go to your house. We can get an early start to phase two."
My grizzled stepdad smirks, and we sneak out. Phase two involves Sam's biggest bully: his older brother, and he just got off work.
Michael was even easier to distract and jump into than my stepdad was. I may have been a little nervous, but after watching Sam do it at my house, I was practically a pro.
"Woah," I gasp in a much deeper tone than I'm used to, "Your brother is tall."
"Yeah, he was the basketball star before he graduated. Now he just bums around in the basement and beats me up after work," Sam explains.
I have to admit that it's a little weird to hear my friend complaining about getting picked on when he's wearing a super mature and muscular body. Though, Paul does look less intimidating when I see him from the towering height of the stud I'm in.
"Where were we?" I suggestively purr, getting a hang of using this guy's voice.
"Paul was about to apologize," Sam flashes a smile which looks foreign on Paul's face, "But I think you should make Michael apologize to me first."
I chuckle and take a step towards him, but almost stumble over the massive feet I have on.
"Damn, he's clumsy," I laugh, "Your brother deserves some sort of punishment, but what do you want him to do? Drop down and kiss your ass profusely or maybe bend over and take a good beating?"
"Both," Paul's mouth gulps as his calloused hands struggle to hide a growing hard-on.
"Or maybe you want to hear your brother grovel and beg for forgiveness?" I go on, dropping Michael's body to its knees, "Or maybe you can find a better use for this pathetic mouth."
"Shit, man!" I hear Paul's voice whine, "We're definitely going to make these straight assholes screw each other! But then we have to take them out tonight. They need to be put through something more public!"
"Oh I like that!" I moan from inside Michael, "Offer these jerks' bodies up for use at every gay bar!"
"At every gas station!" Sam excitedly claps Paul's hands together.
"They can pound Michaels ass while Paul tongue-polishes their boots!"
"Come here!" Sam growls.
"Yes, sir."
I jump into Sam's arms! Well, Michael jumps into Paul's arms. As electric as it feels, I can constantly sense that we don't own the bodies we are in. We're just puppeteering them.
That thought makes me wonder if Michael or Paul can feel all this somewhere deep down. It's a fleeting thought, because I'm already lost in the experience of making out with the jerk of a stepfather while Sam enjoys playing with his bully of a brother.
God, these bodies are hot. By the time, Sam and I are done wearing them, Paul and Michael will be the hottest pair of messes in town...
#mind control#gay mind control#male transformation#gay ai art#gay possession#body swap#male body swap#body suit#body theft
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Midnight sneak-outs
Pairing: Paul Atreides x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: You've just moved to Arrakis. Some distraction is nice, even if it involves your hidden relationship being discovered. Tags: he's very sweet / lots of kissing / hand job / this is not about 15yo Paul A/N: i've been writing less, sorry. i've been working out+working+studying, spending from 7am to 10pm out of the house, it's harsh
MASTER LIST
The air of Arrakis was thick and dry, enough to make your nose burn and threaten to start bleeding if you were outdoors without protection during certain hours of the day. It was very different from Caladan, uncomfortably so. You missed the cold breezes, the hikes along the woods, sleeping while it rained outside. The fact there was no way to escape this made you feel a little claustrophobic, but you tried your best not to be unpleasant, since the Atreides weren’t even obligated to bring you in the first place, but they couldn’t deny Paul’s requests, after all. You had to see the good side of it—even if it was hard and practically impossible. Arrakis seemed to trap you among its sands, even more so with how the Emperor had articulated that; it was just a one-way trip.
On the other hand, Paul seemed quite excited about it. He showed you some tools gifted to him by Duncan, the books he had found around. It was an excitement you couldn’t mirror, though you didn’t want to bring him down with it, since he’d always been so obsessed over Arrakis, extremely fascinated with it.
Paul looked over his shoulder as he walked over to the trees outside, ensuring you followed. “They say each tree consumes the same amount of water as five men. There are twenty!” He widened his eyes briefly as he placed a hand on the tree’s trunk, turning around to face you, with his free hand behind his back.
You furrowed your eyebrows, silently observing the lines of trees through squinted eyes under the harsh sunlight. They seemed sacred, holy. Their apparent aging and disposition—plus how they seemed cared for—demonstrated they held great importance. You looked into the horizon, trying not to dwell too much on the fact there were no mountains surrounding you; no hills, no woods.
“They’re huge,” you said with a hum, squinting your eyes more while looking at the top of the one you two were next to. “Are we supposed to be out here at this time of the day?” The heat felt suffocating, and unlike the cold from Caladan, you could barely escape it.
Paul shrugged, also squinting his eyes, though he was under the tree’s shadow, so you moved and joined him. It didn’t make much of a difference, and inside was probably a lot better, but being with Paul there for a little longer wouldn’t hurt. It was worth it. His eyes followed you, and his hand caught yours, lacing your fingers together to pull you closer. Paul took your other hand as well while leaning back against the tree.
“Are you feeling okay? We can head back inside,” Paul said cautiously, squeezing your hands as his eyes roamed over your features, green irises scanning your face, a search for something you couldn’t identify. Maybe you didn’t want to.
“Weather,” you said with a hum, taking a deep breath, but it failed to calm you down or do anything that mattered. The air was hot, almost burning your airways as they filled your lungs.
Paul seemed convinced, but he still looked at you as if trying to see past the armor you’d built, though he didn’t pry a lot, respecting the distance you imposed. Shaking his head, he pulled you closer instead, close enough to let his forehead rest on your shoulder and press a couple of kisses to it through the fabric. The worry that Paul usually only carried silently was not a little more evident as he stood there with you, trying to figure out how to help without suffocating you even more.
“Let’s head back inside,” Paul said, pulling you away from your thoughts. “We can go for a walk during the night. I want to explore around for a little, so it’ll be great, right? I want your company.” He lifted his head and looked at you in the eyes. A smile tugged on his lips after you nodded, eventually disappearing when he pressed his lips to yours in a soft peck.
The brief contact had your heart skip a beat and gave you comfort, even if just a little bit, even if just for a fleeting moment, and calmed the turmoil inside Paul’s chest.
Arrakis was colder at night, and the great temperature variance was already predictable, given the planet’s characteristics. Still, it wasn’t bad. It was comfortable and refreshing, and the fact you didn’t have to wear formal clothes during the night made it more enjoyable, giving you a welcome false sensation of freedom. In contrast, Paul’s hand was warm against your own as you two walked down the halls of Arrakeen in deadly silence.
Hesitant steps eventually gained confidence once you two walked a good distance from Paul’s room, loosening your grip on each other’s hands comfortably. A guard or another walked by, but none of them seemed to notice you and Paul merged with the shadows, walking down the wide halls of the place, or maybe they didn’t want to.
It was quiet, unlike during the day, and it made Arrakis feel better, for some reason. Paul seemed as excited as he was during the day, pointing out details of the architecture or leaning against windowsills to take a look outside, peeking at the night sky and muttering about it. It was sweet, really. You spent more time looking at his face than at what Paul pointed out, making a light red tone coat his cheeks whenever his gaze caught yours.
Paul sighed as he ran his fingers along the drawings sculpted into the wall, walking each time slower until he stopped walking. “It’s pretty, don’t you think?” He looked at you again, a small smile lingering on his lips as he noticed how you paid attention to the wall as well.
“Yeah. Really catches your attention,” you muttered, meeting his eyes in the relative darkness and squeezing his hand.
Paul didn’t return his attention to the wall, instead holding your gaze. His hand tightened around yours in return, and it was practically a sign for you—a small sound escaped his lips as you stepped closer, compelling him to back up until his back met the wall. The corner where walls met was a discreet and darker spot in the hall where practically no one spared a look, so it would be even harder to be spotted there at such hours when the moons were high in the sky.
Paul’s breath fanned warmly against your skin as you leaned in, and you two just stood there in silence for a long moment, something between reaching a silent agreement with each other and checking if there was anyone nearby. From there, you didn’t need a lot of thought—your lips met Paul’s in a soft kiss, primarily tentative and gentle. His lips were warm and soft, just like you were used to, but something about kissing him in a hidden spot in the halls of Arrakeen felt different, compelling a new type of excitement to stir in the bottom of your stomach. Making out in a dark corner during such late hours of the night made everything better, the thrill and adrenaline that ran through your veins at the feeling of getting caught.
Your tongue ran along Paul’s bottom lip, snatching a soft sound from his lips, while his hand tightened around yours momentarily, hesitantly letting go so that his hand could hold on to your shoulder instead, to pull you closer to him. As Paul’s arms wrapped around your neck, he eventually melted into you, noticing your acceptance, his body tingling at the feeling of your arms firmly wrapped around his waist.
A soft sigh came from Paul the moment your tongue slipped past his lips to run along the back of his teeth and glide against his own, compelling his grip to grow tighter around you, with a new kind of urgency emerging at the deepening of the kiss, one you returned by pulling him closer and holding him tighter. It could ruin your reputation, but it didn’t even matter now, not when you were lost in the way Paul kissed you, fingers gently caressing the back of your neck while his lips moved against yours in a perfect flow.
“Damn,” you whispered between kisses. Your attempt to catch your breath was disrupted by the continuous pecks that Paul kept pressing to your lips, arms tightening around your neck, so you ended up giving in and kissing once more, just enough to satisfy his need before your lips pressed to his jaw. Paul exhaled with a soft sound, arching his back to press more into you, groaning softly as he tilted his head to the side to give you more access to his neck and melted into your touch.
A sound echoed through the dark halls—a step? Door being closed? Weapon being adjusted? A shiver ran down your spine at the same time your blood drained to your feet, and Paul seemed to have the same reaction, both of you holding your breaths while standing as still as possible. It could be unimportant, just as much as it could be significant.
Your eyes met in the darkness, your breaths held in the deafening silence until your lungs burned, and you decided that if there were someone, they would’ve walked away. Or maybe that was just your brain convincing you to kiss Paul more, but did it really matter right now? The worries were slowly buried in the back of your head once your lips met his skin again, making his breath quiver. His arms slowly relaxed around your neck, and he was melting into your touches once again, whispering your name in a sweet and needy voice that made your heart flutter.
As much as you wanted to nibble and suck on Paul’s neck, it was a risk you didn’t want to take, even if most of his attires included turtle-neck shirts and vests. The young heir couldn’t be marked, couldn’t be touched, nothing that would ruin the Atreides’ reputation, and even so, he still indulged himself in a ‘hidden’ relationship with you, risking it all whenever proposing any sort of adventure that led you to situations like right now.
“I’m…” Paul’s breath hitched as his hands tugged on your shirt. A soft hum came from him as he shifted, managing to slip a leg between your own, allowing himself to grind against your thigh with a muffled moan. “Please,” he whispered, voice muffled by your shoulder as he pressed closer.
“No, we are—”
“Please…” Paul groaned. He buried his face in your neck, kissing a trail up to your lips, giving you a peck whenever you tried to argue against him. Who were you to resist that needy tone anyway? The way he made your heart flutter whenever giving you soft kisses, trying his best to convince you. A sigh escaped your lips before you leaned in again, taking Paul’s lips in another kiss, his bottom lip quickly caught between your teeth.
The thin fabric of Paul’s night pants was strained, tented up with the erection that ground against your thigh stubbornly until you gave his hips a harsher squeeze so that he would stay still—he did, with a whine. Among messy kisses, Paul moaned softly, trying to keep as quiet as possible while your hand slipped into his underwear and wrapped around his cock, warm and firm.
Part of you cursed Paul for having made you do that there, go all the way across the palace just to make out, but there was a different feeling to it, you couldn’t deny. Even if the chances were low, someone could still catch the two of you, and raise a scandal. Just the fact you could get caught by someone who didn’t know about your relationship, in general, made your heart race, something stirring in your lower stomach as your teeth sank harder into Paul’s lip. He whimpered, but the pain was nothing compared to the feeling that sparkled up his spine when your hand started moving around his cock.
Of course, it wasn’t the best thing in the world. It was a little stiff, but eventually better once your thumb ran across his tip, using the droplets of pre-cum to ease the friction, even if it didn’t do much.
“You’re dirty, Paul,” you whispered into his ear, squeezing his cock as you pumped him, trying to contain every involuntary thrust of his by pinning him against the wall with your free hand by the hip. His hands clung to your shoulders, most likely leaving scratches behind, despite the shirt in the way. “Does it feel good? Hm? Tell me?”
A soft whimper came from Paul in response, just at the same time his hips thrust into your hand. “Yes,” Paul groaned, voice strained as he pressed his forehead to your shoulder. His attempts to keep quiet result in choked gasps and shaky breaths, but it doesn’t stop the occasional moans from escaping his lips, quiet and needy, sending sparkles down your spine. “Feels so good,” he mumbled in a shaky voice; his cock twitched in your hand, leaking more.
You knew where to touch already, the pace that made Paul quiver and had his knees go weak, so all you did was to measure well how to use that, with slow movements and grazing your thumb against a spot under the tip of his cock until he could barely hold himself together while clinging to you.
Paul mumbled something that sounded like your name, incoherent, muffled against your shoulder, which was already damp from how he pressed his mouth to it to muffle his sounds—or at least try to. It was already growing sloppy with the amount of pre-cum that dripped onto your hand, and Paul was practically doing the whole job by himself already, fucking your hand while chasing his own release. You couldn’t deny the way it made you feel, the way you swallowed dryly whilst feeling him against you, but you were already going too far by now anyway. Maybe you could do more when you headed back to his room.
“Nngh, I can’t—” Paul gasped before his cock twitched more, and there it was—he came with a soft cry, quickly limiting himself to a hiss as his nails sank into your skin through your shirt. “Fuck,” he groaned, trying to keep quiet and hold his breath while riding through his orgasm, and he finally did so, with a soft whimper. His chest heaved up and down to catch his breath, fingers slowly loosening around your shirt, and he finally lifted his head to meet your gaze, blinking a couple of times. “You’re way too good,” he mumbled with a soft groan, pressing a soft peck to your lips.
“Oh?” You chuckled, pulling your hand away, and Paul quickly took care of adjusting his clothes again. “I’m not the one who suggested this, in the first place.” You glared lightly at him, and Paul shook his head in exaggerated frustration that immediately changed into a different expression when you started licking his cum away from your hand, humming faintly. “What?”
“Y’know—”
“Chambers. Now.”
#dune#dune x reader#paul atreides#x reader#x male reader#x female reader#paul atreides x reader#timothée chalamet#fan fic#fan fiction
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I don't remember much about the possession.
I only know that I gave up. I betrayed my family, my brother and I gave up. I stopped fighting. I was very tired, not only from trying to expel my possessor, but from seeing how he harmed my family. He hit my brother when he started to dig deeper into my strange behavior. He insulted my mother and almost beat up my father. I couldn't take it anymore and gave up. Because I'm a coward
Sometimes I have flashes of what he does with my body. Small moments of lucidity, produced by some failure in his control. Yesterday, I think it was yesterday, I saw how he fucked a girl in a bed that I didn't know. God, Alice, I betrayed her too.
I don't feel pain, I don't feel anything he does, but the restlessness of being locked in your body, in your own mind, is more than enough torture.
A sharp pain in my eyes wakes me up and I slowly open them, blinded by the bright light of the sun. "I can move" is the first thought that comes to my mind. "I feel my body" is the second.
I try to stand up a little, failing due to lack of practice using my body, I don't know how much time has passed. I am in a large room, a hospital, and through the window I can see the bay of my city. At the side of the bed, there is an armchair, and my brother is asleep in it.
Anton, Ant!!! My voice feels different, deeper and more masculine. My brother wakes up and when he looks at me and sees that I'm awake, he screams. Mom, dad, he's woken up!!!
The next moment, a warm and aggressive hug was suffocating me, and my family was on top of me. My mother and my brother crying, and my father about to join in the crying too.
I'm sorry. It's the only sentence that comes out of my mouth. My mother is the first to speak. It's okay, honey. He's gone, he's not going to do anything to you anymore, not anymore
Then my brother. It's my fault Paul, I should have realized it sooner, I should have saved you......
I didn't really know what to say. The following hours my parents and my brother told me everything that had happened.
Five months had passed. Bob, my possessor, had sneaked into my house one night, through my window. The police assumed that he made the possession there. At first it was subtle, my parents and my brother noticed that something was wrong, but little did they know that a dangerous criminal had impersonated their son. The days passed and "my" behavior became erratic, increasingly evident that something was very, very wrong. In the end, my parents had no choice but to throw me out of the house, or Bob, and report me to the police. I was a danger to them. That was only during the first month, but they didn't know anything else about me, except for some information that Anton found out. It seems that Bob started a drug trafficking business again, with my body. They received no more news until a week ago when a police officer, more precisely Detective Sheila Mille, called my parents' house and explained the situation to them. The police were not sure that I was possessed, but for my family there was no doubt.
All the helplessness they felt during those months turned into anger, anger towards Bob, and hope, hope that I, their son, was still somewhere.
At my request, we talked again and stayed like that for a few more hours.
The police came to take my statement a few hours later, and when they left, Detective Sheila arrived, and with my family's permission, explained the situation to me, who Bob was, and why he could do what he did. I honestly couldn't understand much of what he was saying.
A few hours later I was discharged from the hospital and went home. While my parents prepared dinner, Anton and I met in my room. I needed to apologize
I'm sorry, I gave up, I couldn't do anything and you paid the price.
You don't have to apologize, Paul. In any case, it is my fault, for not having trusted my instincts, my heart that kept telling me that the person in front of me was not my brother.
When we finished talking, we had dinner as a family and when I returned to my room, I noticed it. A pain that was not pain. An anguish. My brother came through the door and threw something into my hands, a pack of cigarettes.
What the hell are you doing? I don't smoke
You don't, but Bob does. And he smoked every day for the five months he was in you. It's horrible and you're going to leave it as soon as possible, but not today. Today you have too many things on your mind to worry about that.
Before I could say anything else, the cigarette was already lit, and I was already smoking. This shit hit hard, it was going to be difficult to quit.
...........
The next morning I got up early and wanting to get back into my routine, I got ready to go to the gym. I hesitated whether to take the cigarettes or not and in the end decided not to, without realizing that I had already put them in my backpack without thinking about it.
......
This is going to continue
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Hey you should totally write some fluffy/smutty head cannons for Marko and Dwayne plz
TLB Dwayne and Marko Headcanons
(CONTENT WARNING: the following content contains things such as feral vampires, blood, biting, smut, etc… Viewer Discretion Is Adviced)
Dwayne
SFW
- He’ll cuddle you after a long day and listen to you rant
- Laddie thinks of you as his new parent too and started calling you mama/papa
- sometimes when you’re both bored the two of you will make beaded bracelets for the others
- he loves to wrap his jacket around you whenever he knows you’re getting cold
- if you bring him gifts or do sweet gestures for him he’ll get flustered
- he buys/“barrows” anything you like from the boardwalk and any of your favorite foods
- whenever you’re around him he lets his walls down and will let his silly side show
- he loves tilting your chin up to look at him before he kisses you
- if you braid his hair then he’ll love you 100 times more then he already does
- You and him sneak into the movies all the time for date nights and sometimes the two of you bring Laddie along (like a happy family)
NSFW
- he’s a dom 100%
- he can be whatever you want him to be in bed, you want him to be rough then he’ll be rough and if you want him to be gentle then he’ll make the sweetest love to you
- he loves to cover you in hickeys, bites, and just any marks that he can still see for a couple days just because he loves the reminder of what the two of you did
- when he bites and ends up drawing blood from you he goes absolutely feral but he will listen if you tell him not to drink anymore
- if he’s worked up and you tease him then he’ll drag you off away from the others and bend you over the nearest surface when the two of you get privacy
- want him to make some pretty noises for you? Ride him and pinch his nipples or leave marks all over him
- wanna get him all hot and bothered? Bend him over something or grab his hips then tell him all the things you want him to do to you
- he’s really sensitive around his ribs so if you manage to be in charge and leave a few kisses there then he’ll whimper and beg for you
- if he’s in one of his feral ruts be prepared to wake up the next morning covered in love bites, unable to move properly, and him sleeping peacefully next to you
- if you’re in charge for the night then he’ll act a little bratty and try to hold back his noises of pleasure and he becomes really sassy
Marko
SFW
- his pigeons will start to flock around you whenever he’s busy somewhere else in the cave or wrestling around with Paul to settle an argument or just goofing around
- he will snuggle up to you and refuse to move if he knows you’re feeling sad or upset
- if you want a certain food from the boardwalk then he always magically has it with him
- if you give him a pin then he’ll draw on your arm, it helps him calm down if he’s upset too
- every time the two of you cuddle he will always want to use your chest as his pillow
- he’ll find the most random thing and bring it to you as a gift (bottle caps, pop tabs, shiny things, a spray painted brick he ripped out of the wall of a random building)
- if you’re tired he’ll let you lay on top of him on the couch and won’t let you up until after you’ve had a nap
- kisses with him are either really sweet and gentle or deep and rough there’s no in between
- if you’re cold he will bring you whatever you want to keep warm and if you want his jacket he’ll tell you to just be easy with the patches
- he loves when he wakes up and sees you waiting around the cave for him
NSFW
- he’s a solid switch (you can’t convince me otherwise)
- he can be rough and mean if you want him to and after at least a couple of spanks he’ll listen to you
- he loves to be balls deep inside you as you boss him around and tug his hair
- he loves to bite you and leave hickeys everywhere on you. you’ve had hickeys on your thighs, a trail down your stomach to your private parts, your neck, the bottom of your back, everywhere
- he will act like a brat if he doesn’t get what he wants and if you deny him a kiss when he’s subbing for you then he will start crying
- he wants you to be touching him 24/7 and never wants it to stop
- if he’s in a feral rut then he’s pinning you to the bed and ruining your chances of walking properly for a couple of days at least
- he loves the noises you make and if you try to hide them then he’ll stop completely and refuse to continue until he gets to hear how good he’s making you feel
- if you take his jacket off him then that night he’s pinning you down and punishing you by overstimulating you till you’re to the point of tears or on the verge of passing out. he will praise you by telling you how hot and sexy you look wearing it though
- he will go feral if you overstimulate or edge him for more then 3 rounds
#the lost boys marko#the lost boys dwayne#the lost boys smut#the lost boys movie#the lost boys#the lost boys 1987#the lost boys x reader
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Distractions
Paul x GN! Reader
A/n: This one got spicier than anticipated. I have no regrets.
Word count: 700
Warning: nsfw themes, mild smut (minors dni!)
Prompt: "Give me attention."
Paul is feeling needy.
You’ve been sitting at your desk, trying to get work done for three hours. Three hours! You could have finished a long time ago had it not been for one very annoying (and very attractive) vampire. Said vampire was hovering over you at the moment, strands of his hair tickling your skin as they brushed against your neck.
“Babe.”
“Yes, Paulie.”
“Are you done yet?”
“No, and the more you ask, the longer it takes.”
“But baaaaabe. I’m booooored. Can’t you just finish it later?”
“I have to hand this in as soon as I can, so no, I can’t just finish it later. Now stop whining and let me do this.”
He collapsed on the chair you begrudgingly brought over so he can sit beside you, promising to be quiet and let you work. That was the only rule. You should have known that Paul wasn’t the type to just sit down and shut up. For the last two and a half hours since he knocked on your window, he was poking you, braiding your hair, making a mess in your CD collection while commenting on each and every one of them, going through your closet, raiding your fridge, and somehow even got stuck in your bathroom so you had to go and let him out. And don’t forget the classic rolling around on your bed while sighing obnoxiously loud every two minutes.
You faintly registered in the back of your mind the sound of his chair scraping across the floor, and even wondered for half a second what he was planning now, but tried to tune him out as much as possible. That was until you felt his breath on your neck, followed by his lips ghosting over your skin before pressing a kiss near your ear. A shiver ran through you as he slowly made his way down the expanse of your neck to your shoulder then back up again. You didn’t even notice his arms sneaking around you, your senses too preoccupied at the moment. You quickly became aware of them however, when you felt his hand wriggle its way under the hem of your shirt, his thumb lightly stroking the warm skin of your stomach, his fingers stopping just short of your waistband. It was a promise of what’s to come if you would just let him.
“Babe,” he purred in your ear as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Give me attention.”
Oh, the seductive bastard was playing dirty. His voice had a teasing lilt to in that had you on edge in the best way possible. You didn’t give in so easily though.
When you didn’t react, he decided to take it a step further. He started laying open mouth kisses all over your neck, and you gasped when you felt him suck on a particularly sensitive spot. Of course he knew your body like the back of his hand, knew exactly which buttons to push and how much to have you a trembling mess in his arms. And when you felt him gently bite down, you couldn’t stop the moan escaping your lips. His breathy chuckle reverberated deep in your core, sparking a pleasurable tingling between your legs.
He was definitely playing dirty. But at this point you couldn’t care less. Turning around in a flash, you were on him within seconds, tackling him on the bed and capturing his lips in a hungry kiss. Your hands sneaked into his hair, pulling on the messy strands, causing him to moan in your mouth. You attacked each other with such a passionate frenzy, tugging on clothing, messing up the sheets, you barely stopped for breathing. When you finally did, just before you made your way down his body, you just had to make a small teasing comment.
“You got what you wanted. I hope you’re happy with yourself now.”
“I am, very much,” he grinned at you, his expression full of love but also smug satisfaction.
You shook your head with an amused smile before sucking a hickey on his bare hip, his face morphing into one of pleasure, earning you a deep groan. Guess your work can wait a few hours.
#tlb 1987#the lost boys 1987#the lost boys x reader#the lost boys paul#tlb paul#tlb paul x reader#drabble
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Beg. Sequel to Soap. |r.r|
(a/n) real fast. i wanna say thank you so much for all the love you’ve given me over my last 4 writings. it means the world to me absolutely. milly loves you. <3.
sometimes, it’s just too good to not come back for more. Sequel of Soap. Completely inspired and credited to @itjazzbicch ‘Cheiftess’ Series.
warnings: smut, choking kink, unprotected sex (milly does not support this message. wrap it up.), enemies to…official sneaky links??), face DOWNNN ass UPPP, poor use of present and past tense,
parings: enemy!roman x black!reader
word count: 4.3K…never say i never gave y’all anything.
(tags: @fame-ass-ers @squishyguishy @vebner37 @smuts-whore @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine)
*takes place 2 months after Roman Reigns Vs. Kevin Owens Feud 2021*
“Ladies and gentlemen, Daniel Bryan.” You smiled as the camera panned to the man next to you
You’ve known Daniel for a long time now. You were absolutely over the moon at his return to WWE. Behind the scenes, given your friendship with Brie and Nicole, you knew how hard he worked to make it back. It was something you admired about him.
“Y/N! How are you?” He enthusiastically responded to you
“I’m great! How are you doing? How are you feeling ahead of your triple threat match against Roman Reigns and Edge?”
“I’m feeling amazing! Absolutely over the moon! It’s going to be amazi—“
Daniel trailed off as a man appeared next to us. You turned as a certain short, obnoxious, man appeared next to you both.
“Daniel! Y/N! How are you guys doing on this fine evening?” Paul Heyman sarcastically asked
“Paul…hello.” You responded with a lack in your tone
You just knew this was a ‘special’ impromptu visit from Roman. He had his ways like that. Being around even when he wasn’t. It caused you to internally roll your eyes at the sneak attack.
“Did the Tribal Chief know this interview was going to be done?” He asked with a shit eating grin on his face.
“I don’t report back to you or him; thank you, Paul. Now, Daniel, do you think that on the grandest stage of them all, you can pull off such a performance? You and Roma—“
“The Tribal Chie—“
“Would you like to go back to your Daddy so I can finish my job?” You spat, cutting off Paul. “Wherever you end up, Brock Lesnar's locker room or Roman Reigns.”
“I—I—I have no clue what you are referring to. I do not w-w-work for Brock Lesnar anymore. Ms. Y/N, I am merely just trying to—“
“Thank you, Paul.” You grit your teeth as the cameras cut
You toss a sincere look to Daniel and give him a small side hug before turning to the man who quickly became a nuisance, “Listen. I don’t give a damn! I don’t care if you work for Brock, Roman, or Joe fucking Biden. You do not interrupt my job performance. And I know he sent you here on some possessive shit, trying to get a rise out of me. It’s written all over your fucking face. Move!”
You shove Paul out of your way, leaving him stunned in the middle of the hall. You went quickly to find Roman. Fighting against every nerve in your head telling you to turn around. After that small, impromptu meeting in the showers two months ago, you did all you could to stay away from him. Even not becoming his regular interviewer anymore. The last thing you needed was to be fuckbuddies with the man that Roman Reigns is. You could basically kiss your job goodbye if you knew it.
But, he just couldn’t seem to stay away from you. Everytime you turned around, it was like he’d be right there waiting for you. Causing more smart mouthed spats in the middle of the hallway. Anytime you both collided, you both would bicker. You’d think you and him were an old married couple. The majority of it wasn’t an act. Roman did get a rise out of you. He walked the earth with his third leg as if he controlled everyone around him, and they had to kiss the ground he walked on. He was still an asshole. After his initial thought that you’d come begging him for dick, you knew you had to prove him wrong. You didn’t need him. Not for sex…earth shaking sex. No matter how badly you wanted to call him to break you off again.
Your studded black boots clicked on the floor with every determined stride to his locker room. Before you got the chance to bang on it, as intended, it flew open with the 6’3 Samoan smirking down at you.
Roman knew he pissed you off. He knew ever trick in the damn book, on what would make your blood pressure rise. Hell, he wrote the book himself. You weren’t going to admit yourself, how much you wanted him? Fine. But he had plans to make you pay for that shit.
‘Oh, I’ll give him something to smirk about.’
“Who in the hell do you think you fucking are? You got Paul as my bodyguard now?” You snarl into his face, your heels giving you extra height to match him up
“Oh, please. What are you doing interviewing, Bryan? Hm? Answer me that first, baby girl.” He raises an eyebrow
“You have zero authority over me and whoever the hell I interview. You might be asskissing Vince, but your name isn’t anywhere near my checks. You don’t own me!”
“That’s not how I recall the story, Very…very far from it actually. Would you like a reminder?” He dropped his voice an octave deeper and smirked, leaning forward, “Remember, all you have to do is ask.”
“Why don't, instead, you go find where Paul is? We all know how quick he is to drop to his knees with a knife in your back at the reigning! Oh, so defen—”
“You think you're so fucking funny. Huh? I got a joke for you, go tell McIntyre how badly you turn cock drunk when you’re being pounded. How all it takes is for my cock to run over that bundle of nerves inside of you for you to gush down my clock like the whore you are?” Roman grits his teeth with his face mere centimeters from yours; pure agitation on his face at your mention of Brock Lesnar.
The last few weeks, you’ve been cautiously talking to a certain 6’5 Scottish man more and more. Drew was amazing. He treated you well—a sweetheart, if you must say. Movie dates, dinner dates, makeout sessions. Although you’d been holding out on him. Many times Drew slid his hand under your shirt, or would squeeze your backside. You’d always pull away and call it a night. Drew was attractive. Three months ago, you’d allow him a taste of you. Hell why not? He was attractive, strong, tall. But two months ago, you had sex with Roman. Absently, closing you off for any other guy. Admit it or not, it was amazing.
More than once, you’d catch yourself taking a warm, vanilla scented bubble bath, sliding your hand over your stomach, and heading down south…
You circled that small bundle of nerves before moving lower and sliding a finger in. Instinctively, your pussy welcomed your small finger and clenched around it. You threw your head back and sinked lower into the bathtub. Imagining it was Roman behind you, playing with your pussy. Your moans echoed into the bathroom as you worked yourself. Even while Roman wasn’t here, you could hear his voice in the back of your head. Coaxing you, bringing you closer to your orgasm.
“Slide in one more, babygirl…make her wetter for me.” He whispers into your mind.
“Romannnn!” You cry out in a whine as your orgasm squirts into the palm of your hand.
Your eyes opened as your chest raised up and down heavily.
Those nights happened more than once. You knew you were deeply involved with Roman. More than you wanted.
The mixed emotions weren’t helping. Roman tapped dance on the last nerve in your body. All over it, with a full dance routine. Why did you want him so badly, again?
“How about I have that same conversation with Paul? You and him spend an awful lot of time locked inside that room. Do me a favor, Roman. Stay the hell away from me, and for once, look in a mirror. I don’t give a damn about what titles you have or how many you have. You’re still a whiny ass crybaby. Bite me.” With that, you exhaled a sigh and turned on your heels to walk away with a small movement in your hips. You knew his gaze would be on your backside as you walked away
You’d be lying if you said the thought of calling him for another satisfied fuck didn’t occur to you. Every night when you laid awake using different toys or your hands, you threatened to grab your phone to call him. But you couldn’t. He’d have the upper hand. He’d know the control he possessed over your body. And damn, he had that hold on you good.
You straddled Drew’s waist as you both engaged into a heated make out session. Your tongue sliding back and forth against his as you both let out small groans and moans. What started as being in his hotel room watching a movie turned into becoming distracted by the soft kisses Drew placed on your neck. He makes a low growl sound from the middle of his chest as your fingers slide into his hair
“You're so beautiful, you know that?” Drew mumbles against your lips as his hands glides over your ass and hips, adoring the feeling of how big and round it felt in your hands.
You felt his hands slide over the front of your jeans, fingering with the button there, causing you to draw away from him, “I think we should call it a night. It’s getting late. And you know how Vince feels about being late.” You joke breathlessly at a dazed and confused Drew. You quickly stand to fix your clothes and grab your phone off the table.
“What’s up with you lately?”
You felt your heart sink with a small amount of guilt as you turned around to see Drew’s face adorned with embarrassment.
“Why would you ask me that?”
“You just…don’t seem as into this as I am.”
You felt a slight bit offended at his question. He thought you weren’t into this because of what? You wouldn’t have sex with him? “I have to have sex with you to be into this?”
“C’mon, I’m not fucking stupid. You barely even speak to me at the arenas, anytime we’re alone you keep checking your phone, and all I get is a few pecks and your ready to run for the fuckin’ hills.”
“Look. I don’t want people in my business. What’s the first thing you think people will ask if they see us together?”
“Who's gonna see us? Heyman? You don’t want him to spill to Roman you’re hanging around me?” Drew stands over you, his eyes wide with an evil look behind them. You’d think you were his enemy.
Your eyes nearly bulge out your head at Drew’s mention of Roman. Of course that night in the showers, everyone was gone. No one knew about your rendezvous, “Everyone sees you and him always arguing in the halls. So it’s two things. You’re either scared of him or fucking him.” He snarls
Drew’s face snapped to the side as you raised your hand back and slapped the taste from his mouth. Before you could make another strike you decided it would be best to just leave, throwing a glare at him as you walked past him. You couldn’t really be mad he guessed you slept you Roman. But you belonged to neither man. Drew had no right to insulate he owned you of some sort. If you didn’t want to have sex with him, he didn’t deserve a reason.
You quickly grabbed your things and walked away from Drew, straight out his hotel room. You felt yourself become overwhelmed at the thought of seeing Roman. His suite was on this floor in the far corner of the hall.
What if I knocked?
You brushed off your sexual urges as you headed towards the elevator to go down to your floor. You worked yourself into even deeper trouble. Drew had a few friends around the business and of course, he’d tell them how he couldn’t get you into bed. You could practically hear the “stuck up bitch” being thrown out to you already. Not mixing business with pleasure was now crossed into your new agenda permanently, you even made a mental note to create a tinder account.
You felt pathetic. How could you want someone who treated the rest of the world like shit? He didn’t even say please and thank you. You worked hard at resisting him, but that wall was slowly being bulldozed.
On cue, As you drifted into your own thoughts, the elevator dinged bringing you back into your consciousness. Just your damn luck, the pleasure stepped out the elevator blocking your entry.
“You came to deliver my message to your little boyfriend?” Roman smirks again, feeling accomplished.
Your eyes quickly glance over his body as you notice the black leather jacket, white tank top, black pants, and Jordan’s. You let out a huff as you move to the side to go around him before he steps in the same direction, “What the hell is your problem?” You questioned placing your hands over your hips letting out a sigh
“My problem? What’s yours? Why fight what you and I both know you want?” He asks stepping closer to you, sizing you up
You let out a snort with a roll of your eyes. This man was way too proud of himself. “Don’t boost your ego anymore than it is. Your head might just explode.”
“Fuckin’ admit it. You want me to break you off again. Give into you, but you’re in for a rude awakening. One thing people don’t do is lie to my face. Me and you both know right now, your pussy is dripping into those panties. Begging for me to make her submit to my every will. So do you, don’t you? You want that, don’tchu? To feel my cock stretching you out the way those fingers can’t? We both want it, and you know that. And that little boyfriend of yours? All of you belongs to me. Get that. Do you understand me?” He taunts, his face looming down over yours, his eyes thick with lust.
For the first time, since meeting Roman, you were quiet. You were stunned at his honesty. Your mouth felt dry at the thought of belonging to Roman. As much as you wanted to punch him dead in his jaw, who were you trying to convince? You wanted to feel him inside of you again. What happened in the showers would be just a mere rushed fuck. You wanted him to make you his.
“Now are you done acting like a little ass child? Be an adult and use your words. Tell me you want me, baby girl. Anytime you want some dick, just as-”
As if you were being hypnotized by his words, “I want you.” flew right out your mouth and onto his as you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer to your frame.
You could feel the white light behind your eyes bust, knowing you reached a moment of no return. There was no going back. Roman lowered his hands to your ass, squeezing it tightly, pulling you flush to his body. The kiss was hungry, he was rewarding you for your honesty by biting your bottom lip repeatedly. Your tongue explored his mouth as he slipped his own between your lips. The warm feeling in his chest erupted as his current wildest dream was about to come true.
Once again.
Romans hands slid downwards to the crease of your ass and your thighs, proceeding to lift you up allowing you to wrap your hands around his waist. You briefly wondered if he could hear your heart beating at a rapid pace. Your nerves were all over the place. This time was different. You felt more exposed at admitting you wanted to be his.
Roman opened the door to his suite, walking towards his bedroom. You let out a sequel as he threw you onto the middle of his bed. His eyes were dark and hungry. Before you could have a moment to change your mind, he silenced you with another kiss.
Whatever you were about to say didn’t matter, bitchy remarks or not, was the last thing on his mind. Roman wrapped his hands around your ankle, yanking you down the bed closer to his body.
“Take these off,” He growls out to you, tugging at your pants
With a little aid from yourself, you lift your hips to allow him to pull them off, revealing your hot pink lace underwear. You could see a snarl form on Romans face, remembering how just an hour ago you were with Drew.
Roman kneels onto the bed, covering your body with his as he smashes his lips onto yours. His hand ghosted slowly towards Your warm and wet heat. You parted your legs, slightly, giving his fingers the space they needed to explore your warmth and wetness covered by lace.
“Mmmm,” You sighed into his mouth, as his slipped his hand into the hand of your panties circling your clit
“Shut up.” He grumbles back
He slid his index and middle fingers into your pussy. You felt your breath hitch inside of your throat as he moved his fingers in and out picking up pace. You reached down to grip his wrist, attempting to brace yourself from being overheated with pleasure. Rather quickly, you felt your belly tighten with a small amount of pressure. Roman felt you clamp down on his fingers,
“Let go,” he whispers into your mouth. You began squirming, unable to remain still as pleasure hit your body in waves, nearly consuming you. Your lower half worked against the strokes of his fingers; riding them into oblivion.
“Ahhhh! Oh my God. Please,” You cried out, squeezing your eyelids together.
You briefly closed your eyes, gathering yourself from your clouded thoughts. You felt the bed dip, as Roman stood to his full height. You lay back into your elbows as you watched him undress himself.
“The next time you ever mention Lesnar or McIntyre to my fuckin’ face you’ll regret it. If I ever see you near him again, I’m going to make sure he knows personally who you belong to. You understand?” He grits out lowering his boxers, letting his girthy and long cock spring against his abdomen
You decided to test him a little bit and raise your legs to your chest, closing them, his view of your panty covered pussy now gone. “But I like McIntyre. We were jus—Shit!” You squeal as Roman pounces onto the bed, slapping the side of your plush thigh roughly, marveling at the jiggle it created.
“Y’wanna finish that sentence? You think you’re in charge, but I'm calling the shots tonight. Turn the fuck over.”
Roman growls, not giving you the chance to turn over yourself, and grabs your hips in a grip before flipping you over and pushing you into a deep arch with your face flush into the bed. Roman catches you spreading your legs a bit more causing him to chuckle, “Slide back onto me. You want it so bad, let me see you fuck yourself.”
You let out a moan as you feel the tip of Romans cock make contact with the entrance of your pussy. You push back, with a bit of force till the head of Romans cock makes its way inside your pussy. Getting impatient, Roman grabs your plush hips and pulls out. Letting out an impatient whine, you felt a chill down your spine as he licked a stripe up your pussy. He then surges forward pushing in his entire length in one move.
“Ah!” You gasped “Wait, fuc—“
“Nah, remember all that shit you were saying. You’re taking all of me tonight. Don’t you dare run from me either.”
Roman teased you with slow, deep strokes at first, before speeding up his pace. You turned your head into the mattress letting out screams.
He reached up grabbing your hair into a tight grip, pulling your head up, “Nah, let the whole floor know who’s fucking you right now.”
“You’re so fuckin—“
“Big?” Roman chuckles in a deep voice
“Conceited, Ugh!” You squeal, clawing at the sheets as his big and rough hand cracks on your ass.
“But whose pussy is creaming around me? Yeah? Look at her, swallowing this dick. Her dick. She knows who she belongs to, doesn’t she baby? Talk to me.” He praised, spreading your ass cheeks to watch your wetness coat his cock.
While you could feel your heart swell at the comment, him being yours, it served the same meaning for Roman. It fueled Romans ego more, at the squelching wet noises your pussy was making for him as he fucked you into the mattress.
You only got this way for him. He only got this way for you.
Yeah, you definitely can’t let him go now.
You let out a mewl as his thickness stretched you out, creating both pain and pleasure. That same familiar vein rubbing against your spot, “Ohh! Fuck, yes! I belon–I belong to you! It’s your pussy!” You moaned louder as the headboard began to slam against the walls as he fucked you faster.
You pushed your ass backwards and began throwing your ass back against his hips. Why did you do that?
He chuckled. “You throwing that ass back like a big girl, baby? You gon’ take this dick like one too.” Without waiting for you to respond, he deepened his strokes and picked up his pace.
“Ooh, shit!” You moaned, gripping the comforter. He was so deep in you, that you felt like he was fucking your heart. Feeling the coil in your belly, you clenched your muscles around his cock.
“You wanna show out, huh?” A deep growl escaped his throat. “I got something for your ass.” He announced before really starting to fuck you. I was talking about pulling out and sliding back in, fucking you. Your nails nearly drew rips into the sheets. Your pussy creating a slippery mess, letting him slide back in easily.
“Fuck!” You yelled, blindly reaching behind him to push at his abdomen, to give you a moment to catch your breath.
“What did I say? You’re taking all of me. I told you not to run, baby girl. Don’t act like you can’t take it. What about all that shit at the arena earlier, hm?” he said, grabbing your hands and pinning them against your lower back. He propped his foot up on the bed, and used your bounded arms to bring you against him to meet your thrust.
“Shit, Roman! Fuck! Make me take it!” You cried in pleasure.
There was no way Drew was ever getting a text back, a call back…shit an email. Especially, if he didn’t hear you practically calling out to god as Roman was engraving himself on you.
Roman hissed as he felt your pussy contract, creating a second skin for him. He knew you were close, and he wasn’t far behind himself, “Y’gonna cum for me, baby? My good girl. Cum all over me baby. Let me see it.”
“Mmmm, yesssss!” You moaned, throwing your head towards the ceiling. “Fuck… I’m cumming…Romannnn!” Your orgasm ripped through you—releasing a wave of wet heat all over Roman’s cock.
Roman’s spine shook as he felt your pussy tighten around him, keep him in, as you gushed all over his cock—warm wet heat circling around him. Tears coated your cheeks, as your orgasm ripped through you making your entire body convulse as you babbled incoherent words. Roman let out a roar as his own orgasm rushed to the core, deep and filling up your pussy, mixing your juices together, “Shit! Fuck yeah, baby!” His voice thick and heavy with rasp
You both collapsed on the bed, limbs tangled into each other, and sucking as much air as you could back into your lungs. After a brief moment, Roman raised up from the bed and disappeared into his bathroom. A few seconds later, he came out with a wet towel to clean the both of you off. You bit your lip, as the feeling of the warm towel moving against your pussy came over you.
Roman laid down next to you, his chest heaving up and down, before chucking to himself. His signature smirk coating his face.
“What?”
“Bet your ass knows better than to lie to me now. See what your little stubborn ass act denied you from?” He replies, his big dick attitude back on 10. But hell. He had the big dick to match, so.
“Do you ever get e-fucking-nough of being an asshole?”
“You spent two months running from me, getting on my fuckin’ nerves, makin’ everything 20x harder for me, fucking’ around with my money with those interviews. Whole time you wanted me to make you cum again. Stubborn ass, woman. I gotta say, the resistance act was sexy as hell.” He expresses before pulling you to him, to lay on his chest
“Don’t flatter yourself too much. It wasn’t an act, Tribal Chief.” You roll your eyes at his self centered moment of truth. Some things never change.
“Oh yeah, baby? What was it?” He questions before moving over on top of your sweaty frame
After a brief moment of eye contact, for once and for all you decided to settle it and let him win. Just this once. You raised up to place a more gentle kiss than the one you shared earlier. That was more hungry, sloppy, messy…this one was delicate, soft, tender. You wanted to tell him what you couldn’t say out loud. You pulled back and saw a look of admiration in his eyes.
“You’re mine.” Roman claims with a small smirk
“And you’re mine.” You respond back
“I’m yours.”
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