#paul smut

[spidercookie18]

he will rut his hips against yours for as long as you let him. his high pitched, whiney puppy whimpers hanging off the air. his mouth red and raw from kissing your neck. just begging to keep touching you. fully sheathed in you as you ride him. his cock aching for release. his fingertips digging into your hips and thighs, trying his hardest to keep his claws away because he doesn't want you stop this wonderful act.

he paws at you all the time for kisses, anything he can do to get your attention. for you to notice how he aches for you, the physical pain he gets from not touching you. now that he's under you he won't let you go. he's trying so hard not to buck up into you because you said "not to". but he's going crazy. you feel so good. so nice and tight and warm around him. squeezing his cock, teasing him. purposefully trying to drive him over the edge. the cute pained faces he makes trying to maintain composure. the way his eyes roll back and shut in frustration. his lust blown pupils trying to stay focused on you, barely any blue left in his eyes.

god you drive him crazy. you look so gorgeous right now. he feels like hes been blessed. like you're his own personal angel, giving him divine pleasure. how you rock your hips, your soft moans as you come up and down on his shaft. how lovely you look over him, your breasts and hair bounching with your movements. soft beads of sweat rolling down your body. the gasps from your pretty parted lips as you continue to roll your hips.

he bites his lip with a soft "fuck". his teeth sink into his lip and he tears the skin. he's bleeding now, but he doesn't notice. he's focused on the way YOU feel. how close you are, by the way you squeeze him. how long you've been edging him. he doesn't want it to stop. he loves being your plaything, and you know it. you love to watch him beg for you. for your skin on his. the way you knowingly tease him in front of the others. watching him from the corner of your eye as he gets jealous and painfully hard watching you hang off his brothers.

you chuckle, thinking of the events that lead to this. drunkly dancing and slowly stripping your layers in the cave. celebrating new years with the lost boys. his hands coming up to lay on your hips as you swayed them from side to side. his own personal lap dance. he could have died all over again. you couldn't resist those puppy dog eyes of his. the way he begged for you to let him fuck you.

hes whimpering again. his soft "please" as he gently thrusts his hips up into you. the hands you had on his thighs to lean back and ride him coming to lay on his stomach now. the weight doesn't bother him, you feel like nothing on him. he focuses on your nails in his skin, and the fact that you've stopped bouncing on his length. "Now paul..." you try to keep the sadistic joy out of your voice, but he looks too perfect below you. "what did I saw about that?"

"m'sorry" he's begging, and his pathetic display makes you giggle "please I couldn't help it" his hands scratch at your hips and waist. trying desperately to get you to continue riding him. those pretty blue eyes of his, the soft sobs he let's out. he lifts his head off the bed to stare at you. eyebrows furrowed, a pink spot growing on the tip of his nose.

he's gonna start crying if you don't keep riding him

"Oh paul" you bite your lip and start a fast pace. he's so fucking cute like that. you can hear the others from further down in the cave, theyre green with envy. you loved being the object of desire, but you were Paul's right now. rather, he was yours.

the ache in your belly had been pooling for a long time. it was so hard not to come from riding him in this position. his pretty cock had you stuffed, but watching him below you was what really put you over the edge. you spammed around him. trying your best to keep up your pace as you quickly bounced on his length. your movements were hard to control, and you could feel your legs begin to give out. you slumped over, trying to keep upwards with your hands pressed to Paul's chest. you could hear him whining over the sound of your own panting. you'd never given him permission to come, so he didn't. he was worried that you would be mad with him, and keep your body from him as a punishment.

"paulie" you sighed out, "take over baby". in a second, he had your back to the bed. it almost knocked the wind from you with how quickly he moved. your legs were over his shoulders and he was pistoning against you. your body was tired from riding him for so long, but he would keep fucking into you for as long as you ordered. his cock bullying its way into your overstimulated cunt. "f-fuck, so- so fucking good" paul came down to kiss you. and you could taste his blood in your mouth. his tip hitting hard against your cervix. it sounded like he was pounding with a sledgehammer while he slipped his tongue into your mouth. he kissed you greedily, he was always like that with your body. he couldn't get enough of how good you felt on him, around him, sucking him in. you could feel his cock throbbing as it came in and out. Paul found purchase in the crook of your neck. in between kissing and biting, he was whimpering and muttering into your skin. "s'soft, s'good, please, please can i?" he begged for release. he pushed his feet into the bed, forcing you higher up the mattress, trying to push himself further into you.

"m'almost there Paulie" you whined. your nails dug into his back. he angled his hips to rup his tip against your soft spongey spot. his heavy cock dragging in and out of you. "Oh fuck! PAUL- co, co!" your legs shook. the way he had you folded in half made it hard to breathe. you struggled to get the words out but he knew what you wanted. his teeth clamped down on your shoulder. you could feel the hot sticky blood flow from your skin and down to the sheets below you. Paul's hips slammed into you and with a loud growl he painted your insides white. he pressed himself flush against your ass, forcing you to take his full length. you could feel it pressing up to your stomach. it hurt. the pain in your lower half, and the pain from Paul ripping your flesh with his teeth. he stayed like that for some time. lapping at your blood. when he realized you were too fucked out to scold him, he started thrusting again. fucking his come back in to you. sweet Paul. whining and whimpering about how lucky and thankful he was to be fucking your soft squishy cunt.

it was going to be a long while before the other boys had a turn with you.

[the-fiction-witch]

You and I P6

Media - Nowhere Boy Character - Paul Couple - Paul X Reader Reader - Y/n Rating - 18 + Smut - nudity / cuddling / kissing / making out / morning wood / silent sex / secret sex / risky sex / pleasure seeking / orgasms / fingering / riding / cowgirl / begging / moaning / biting / love bites / Word Count - 3721

When morning came they still remained cuddled up in each others arms the soft warmth of the covers around them and the sound of movement around the house

Paul stirred slowly, his eyes opening as he began to wake from his sleep, the early morning sunlight slowly starting to peek through the curtains. He felt how she still lay against his chest, her body still in his arms, her hair still soft and silky as his fingers gently brushed through it, the sound of the house waking still sounding in the background as he slowly woke up more

He felt her stirring against him as he woke up more, he continued to lightly brush his fingers through her hair, feeling how it wrapped around his fingers in soft waves, smiling softly at her sleepy reaction to him waking her up

"Humm… morning" she yawned,

“Morning, luv” he mumbled in response, smiling slightly as he heard her cute little yawn, his voice still a little hoarse and rough from sleep, his hand still gently combing through her hair, enjoying the way it felt against his fingers

she smiled and gave him a little kiss before nuzzling into him "Time?"

He hummed softly at the little kiss, smiling and enjoying the nuzzling that followed, the feeling of her warm against him so sweet and familiar He looked over at the clock on the bedside table, seeing the time and letting out a groan, “6:30… we’ve gotta get up, luv”

"Why? … it’s Saturday,"

He chuckled softly at her question, but he also knew John and the others would be over to practice and be expecting them “Because we’ve got to practice today… the boys will be over later…” He told her, his hand still moving through her soft hair

"… when do her boys ever arrive for practice earlier than half eight,"

He chuckled again, knowing she had a point, the others weren’t exactly known for being on time, hell, he knew he wasn’t exactly great for being on time either “Yeah… good point… we’ve got a couple hours, I suppose… but we should probably get up soon….” He relented

"Ummm did you want to use the window?"

He chuckled again at her sleepy question, loving how funny she could be in her sleepy state

“Are you asking me if I want to jump out the bloody window, luv?”

"… Merely asking if you want to climb out my window and into the garden so you can enter the house through the front door. So when the guys arrive they don't know you spent the night there."

He paused for a moment, thinking about it, it wasn’t a terrible idea, and it would avoid getting lectured by John about the two of them spending the night together “Yeah, guess that’d be a good idea… as long as you’re willing to help me get in through the window from the garden,” he told her, a slightly teasing tone on his voice

"Or… you could go the other direction and just as the boys come upstairs to John's room, you could come out my room in you’re underwear fully embracing it and enjoying the bragging rights?"

He almost groaned at the thought, he could just imagine the reaction of the other lads, if he walked out of her room in his underwear, the way the others would react, particularly John, would be hilarious, and he definitely enjoyed the thought of having bragging rights, especially over John “Christ… that’s a fantastic idea, luv” He told her, a satisfied smirk on his face

"Umm then I can come to give her kisses while you’re practising"

He chuckled again, and the idea of her coming to give him kisses while he was practising was almost too much to bear, it’d be so distracting “I don’t think I’d get much practising done if you were giving me kisses, luv”

"Would you complain?"

He paused for a moment, pretending to think about it, as if it wasn’t obvious that he wouldn’t complain at all “No… I don’t think I would” he told her with a slight smirk, knowing that she'd see straight through his feigned uncertainty

she giggled and pulled him closer into more kisses

He chuckled softly, the tone of her giggle sending tingles through his body, he was happy to be pulled into more kisses, loving feeling her body press against his, he loved her so much, sometimes it was hard to believe she was real, that she was his, He continued to return her kisses, his hands moving to her waist again, his fingers gently gripping her hips as he kissed her back softly, enjoying the familiar feeling of her body against his, loving the way her skin felt against his, how perfect it felt to have her in his arms

"So… what should we do till the boys get here?" she smirked

He chuckled, loving the smirk on her face and the slightly cheeky tone of her voice, he had a good feeling what she had in mind, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it too, “I’m sure I could think of a thing or two to pass the time…” he told her with a sly grin

"So can I," she smirked and shifted them a little till she sat over his hips again "Shall we?"

He groaned softly as she shifted to straddle his hips again, his hands gripping her waist tightly as she sat on top of him, he could feel his heart begin to race a little and he knew that he wanted her so badly “Christ… yes, please…” He managed to get out, his voice already starting to sound a little breathless with wanting her

"But quiet this time, people are home" she whispered as she shifted her hips a little "ohhhh someone had a nice dream" she smirked at the obvious morning wood

He cursed internally at how good it felt having her hips shift against him like that, and he knew that his dream had very much helped contribute to his current situation “Yeah… yeah, I… had a nice dream… a very nice dream…” He replied, his voice coming out a little breathless as he felt her move against him

"what was it about?" she cooed moving her hips a little against him but not yet letting him inside

He groaned and his head fell back a little against the pillow as she moved again, the feeling of her so close to him but not yet letting him get what he wanted was torturous, he needed her so badly but he wasn’t sure he’d last much longer “God… don’t make me say it, luv…it’ll embarrass me…” He told her, his voice coming out a little ragged

"if you don't tell me, he can't come in" she giggled

He groaned again, a frustrated noise falling from his mouth, of course, she would make him say it first, he should have known this is what she’d do, but goddamn, he wanted her so badly that he’d be willing to do practically anything for her, and he definitely did not want her to stop “It… it was about you…” he finally admitted, his face feeling a little hot as he admitted it out loud

"And what happened?"

He paused for a moment, trying desperately to remember the details from his dream, but it was surprisingly hazy now, and all he could remember were snippets and sensations, he knew she wouldn’t let him get away with just giving her vague details “you were on top of me… just like you are now… and I was… Christ… I can’t remember much, luv” He admitted, feeling a little self-conscious about how much he’d already forgotten

"Tell me" she whined

He let out a frustrated growl, part of him not wanting to say any more because it’d be so Goddamn embarrassing, but the other part of him wanting so badly to keep her happy and have her continue, finally he caved and gave in, deciding it’d be best to be completely honest with her “Goddammit… please don’t judge me for this… ok?” He started, his face feeling hot as he spoke

"I promise"

He took a deep breath before continuing, still feeling a little self-conscious about saying his dream out loud, and he knew she wouldn’t actually judge him for it, but that didn’t stop the feeling of embarrassment

“Right… well… you were straddling me, just like you are now… and you were riding me… quite hard… I remember that bit vividly, luv…oh and I was making you feel good… I remember that too” He swallowed before continuing, his face turning a deep shade of red at his own admission, but he knew her wouldn’t stop until he told her everything “I remember how you felt around me, and how much I wanted you … and I remember how you … how you … God, this is embarrassing…” He trailed off, his voice coming out a little ragged He groaned as he felt her begin to shift on him again, the feeling almost taking his breath away, but he still wasn’t done admitting the details of his dream yet, he knew she’d refuse to give him what he needed until she had all the details “I remember… I’m pretty sure you came… I remember how perfect you look when you cum, and how… how…” He trailed off again, feeling his cheeks turn hot “… and how hot it is when you cum…” He finally managed to complete the sentence, the last part coming out in a low, raspy voice, his breathing ragged and his face red with embarrassment, but he still knew that her weren’t done with her questioning

she giggled "Hummm… I think I had a similar dream"

He paused for a moment, he couldn’t help but be a little surprised that she’d had a similar dream as he’d had, and he couldn’t deny that he was suddenly very curious about the details “Christ… really?.. you dreamed about that too?” He asked, his voice a mix of surprise and interest

"I did, almost the same… except your hands were tied to the bed"

He let out another frustrated moan as she revealed the difference in the dreams, and he felt his heart begin to race at the image he got, but he also began to feel the tiniest bit of trepidation at the thought of having his hands tied to the bed and being completely at her mercy “Bloody Christ… you had a similar dream but with me tied down?” He asked, his voice coming out a little hoarse, his entire body suddenly feeling hot with desire

"Mhm," she nodded as she finally let him inside "Just a silly dream," she cooed starting to move

He let out a strangled moan as he finally felt her sink down onto him, the feeling so perfect he could have sworn he saw stars for a second, he instinctively grabbed her hips, his fingers gripping tightly, his body already tense from how good it felt “God…. Christ….. it’s… luv… that feels so good……” He managed to get out, his voice sounding slightly strangled but his tone full of how much he was enjoying it

"Ssh." she reminds him "My mum will be making breakfast downstairs, and John might be next door"

He groaned at her reminder to be quiet, the last thing he wanted was to have John or her mum come upstairs and discover them, he knew that’d be a disaster. However, it was getting increasingly difficult to keep quiet as she started to move on top of him, he had to force himself not to moan loudly each time she shifted just right “I… I’m trying… but it’s… Christ… it’s so hard to stay quiet… you feel too good……” He managed to get out, his voice coming out as a strained whisper

she giggled and made sure to be slow but purposeful trying to give him the most pleasure, quickly, but without making the bed make too much noise

He let out a breathless whine at the way her were moving, the fact that she was moving so slowly was doing a good job of making the bed less noisy, but it meant that she was teasing him by not giving him what he desperately wanted at a faster pace. He knew that she was doing it on purpose to frustrate him, and he was slowly losing the ability to keep quiet, all he could manage were breathless little whimpers each time she moved against him “Y/n… please… faster… I need…. I can’t…..” He managed to get out in a broken whisper

she giggled "Awww my poor baby"

He groaned again, frustrated and impatient with how slow she was being, he was getting desperate, all he wanted was for her to move faster, but she kept teasing him by continuing to go so slow “Goddammit luv… please…. I need you to go faster… please…. I’m begging you …” He whined, sounding a little more desperate

she grabbed her pillow and put it between the bed and the wall starting to move faster the pillow muffling some noise

As soon as she increased her pace he let out a strangled moan, the tension in his body starting to build at the need to increase in speed, and the pillow between the wall and the bed was doing a good job of muffling the sound of the bed moving, however, it wasn’t doing much to stop his gasps and groans of pleasure “Christ…. Y/n…. that’s…. Oh God… that feels…. So good…..” He whispered, his voice still strained but his tone full of pleasure

she giggled taking his hand and moving it between her legs so this would be enjoyable for her too

He groaned as she moved his hand between her legs, and he began to gently press his fingers against her clit, circling it slowly, all the while still enjoying the feeling of her moving on top of him “Y/n… you feel…. So good…. I want you so much…. Christ…..” he whispered, his voice still coming out as a mixture of a gasp and a

she gasped and whined getting faster as he touched her

As he heard her gasp from her, he knew he was doing a good job at pleasing her with his fingers, he continued to circle her clit, his touch becoming faster and more desperate as the tension built inside him, he wanted to hold on for her but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take feeling so good “God…. luv… you sound so good…. you feel so good….. I need you …” He whispered into her ear, his voice still strained but his tone full of how much he was enjoying the feeling of her

she bit her lip "…. Fuck it-" She groaned moving at the pace she had last night,

He let out a strangled moan as she suddenly started moving faster, it felt so good he could barely think, all coherent thought seemed to leave his mind and he couldn’t stop the gasps of pleasure and the low moans that left him with every move her made “Christ….. luv….. God….. you feel…. So, so, so good…. So beautiful… so perfect…..” He managed to get out in broken, ragged gasps

"Keep going… please-" She begged holding his hand in place

He continued to keep his fingers moving against her, pressing against her clit and listening to the gasps and moans she was letting out, he could feel his own tension building as she went, but he wanted to see her come first, he desperately wanted to see her reach her peak and hear her come for him again

“Y/n…… I’ll do anything you want…. I’ll keep this up as long as you want…. I need you to cum…..” He told her, his voice still breathy but the tone full of how much he wanted her to cum,

she gasped already clenching around him as she moved

He felt her start to clench, and he knew that they were close, the feeling making his heart race and his own tension continue to get higher, his own breathing laboured from how good it all felt “That’s it…. That’s it luv… let go for me…. Let go… I need to feel you … I need to see you her…” He managed to get out in a broken, stammering gasp, the tone of his voice thick with how much he wanted her to come

"I'm about to-" she whined trying to keep moving as she was on the edge

He let out another groan, desperate to keep her going since he knew she was so close, his hand on her hip squeezing tighter, holding her down onto him “Yes… God yes…. Don’t stop…. Just keep going….. you’re so close……” He said in a broken gasp, his tone almost begging her to keep going

she whined and moved her hips at the same pace doing her best as her legs trembled, before she clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle her scream and she froze up completely her back arching as she clenched and squirted down him

He didn’t have time to register her clamping her hand over her mouth, before suddenly clenching him so tight and completely freezing up, he let out a broken moan as her orgasm washed over him, his own back arching and his hand gripping her hip so hard he was sure he’d leave bruises. It took everything he had in him not to cry out in pleasure, but he eventually managed to make nothing but a strangled gasp, “God….. y/n….. that was…..” He couldn’t manage any more than a few broken words, his body and mind completely overwhelmed by how good that felt

"Did you -" she gasped

He let out another strangled moan as she asked that question, feeling his body tense as he realised he was still so close, but now he was just as desperate for release as she had been a moment ago “No… not yet… Christ….. but I’m so close… I need you so bad……” He told her breathlessly, holding desperately onto those last few threads of control he still had

she moved his hands to her hips letting him move her

He immediately took control once his hands were on her hips, holding her firmly he started to thrust up into her, his eyes focused on her face, his breathing ragged and laboured as he continued to feel so close to the edge “God….. I’m not going to last long……..” He managed to get out, his voice tight and strained, struggling not to just completely lose control and let go

she gasped and moaned against his neck as she was becoming beyond overstiumulated now,

He continued to thrust into her, trying to keep his pace steady and not let himself go too fast, the feeling of her moans against his neck was driving him crazy, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep control for much longer “God…. luv… I’m gonna cum… I’m so…….. close…. I can’t….. I can’t hold….. hold back much longer….” He managed to get out in a strangled gasp

she nodded biting his neck

He completely let go of the last scraps of control he still had as he felt her bite his neck, he let out a ragged moan, and gave one last strong thrust up into her, before he completely fell over the edge and came, arching his back and holding her down against him, his head falling back as he groaned her name through gritted teeth

y/n gasped and collapsed "Fuck-"

He felt her collapse down on top of him, and his arms immediately came up around her, holding her firmly against him. He took a few deep breaths trying to calm himself down, and managed to get out a few broken words “God…. luv…. Jesus Christ….. that was….. that was incredible……” He told her, sounding winded and exhausted, but still enjoying the feeling of her lying on top of him

"I have an opinion…" she gasped

He took another deep breath, finally starting to get his breathing somewhat regulated, and when he was certain he’d be able to speak more or less properly he replied “Go on… what’s your opinion, luv?” He asked curiously, his arms still around her, holding her against his chest, his body still trembling slightly from the orgasm and the exertion of it all

"Riding. is best."

He actually let out a soft laugh at her statement and response, it was such a simple answer, and yet it made perfect sense to him. He let out another soft hum as he thought about it, still holding her close in his arms, enjoying the feeling of her on top of him, and he had to admit he agreed with her “I have to agree with her on that one, luv… God you look incredible when you’re in control like that…..”

"something about coming while riding… is better somehow"

“You’re right… it just feels…. More…. It’s so good…..” He agreed, his voice still coming out a little breathlessly, “I love watching you cum as you ride me, feel you clench when I’m so deep… fuck! It’s so good luv!”

"The issue is if you don't rub on me then it doesn't feel like anything"

He chuckled softly at her remark, and he couldn’t help but agree with her. When her were the one leading and in control, it was up to her to make sure she was getting everything she needed, which meant making sure she could find a good way to rub against him “That’s very true… but I don’t mind one bit…… I think I like you being in control a lot…..”

"Hummm… so tier list is currently riding, is best, missionary is second," she nodded

“That’s very true… I’d agree with that list…..” He agreed, still holding her close against his chest, and he had to admit he was feeling a little tired now from how good she’d both made each other feel

"We need to try standing and bending over next." she smiled giving him a kiss before she climbed out of bed and began getting dressed for the day into her little white lace panties,

He had to hold in a moan as she mentioned bent over, unable to stop the thought of it already popping in his head as he watched her get dressed, the image of her bent over in those white lace panties already starting to drive him crazy

“That sounds good to me… over the bed… in those little panties? Ummm I am very excited,”

she chuckled "Maybe after practice then" she cooed slipping her stockings on

[littleskittles325]

My Bitch

¡Warning!-fighting,mentions of blood,angst,hair pulling,kissing,dildos,oral (male receiving). ¡Paring!-Sub¡Paul x Dom!reader

:>

Paul was being very bratty to you and thinking he has all the power over you.Well he “did” but behind closed doors it’s another world. “Hey,second place!” I admit he has bad come backs,he walks up to you whispering in your ear.”You wanna punish me baby?” He giggled and walked over to his bedroom,followed you could tell how horny he was just by looking at how his eyes hit the back of his head when he saw you approach him.he was laying on the bed ripping is clothes off one by one and then just layer there.you played when his cockteasing him and slightly licking it before letting him fuck your face.he got carried away easily and started hurting your jaw while you almost bailed out when he came you were so suddenly shocked you moaned. “Can we do doggy style master?” You nod and he positions himself and you slip your toy dick in him and he whines “why are doing it raw!” You sped up a little bit and he whines again and again and again he start moaning and crying at the same time.You speed up until you fucking him mercilessly and he’s crying . You tease him into organism then his second and third.you start pulling his hair and that makes him go crazy,He starting yelling “Fuc-gu-fuck m-master~”. You heard banging on the door,it’s the queen you get dressed and try to hide Paul .she barges in and asks “Where you moaning in here!?” Yes” you say in a lower voice. I sorry your majesty ,that I was making such inappropriate noise’s. She says to someone to stop moving but not looking at you looking at Paul!could she see him?,what would happen? She walked forward and moved the sheet from his body and there it was his naked body just staring back at her,”Prince Paul!?” “I am so disappointed with you!,I should strip you from you crown!” “No no need!” Paul says quickly,she leaves and slams the door.Paul is now cuddling with you crying in your lap while stroking your thigh.shhhhh” its ok Paul.”

[dilf-docs]

All Roads Lead To Rome

pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: your boyfriend swears he isn't annoyed at your little surprise visit on the set of gladiator II; you might have to help him release his anger, one way... or another.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (BARK BARK BARK), smut, p. in v., bit of exhibition kink cause they fuck on his trailer, he swears he's mad but he just wants head, oral (m. receiving), he also uses his armor and skirt while at it bc its hot and not bc i totally want that to happen to me or smth!!!, brat taming, orgasm denial, breeding and daddy kink lowkey, i'm so down bad for him so there's fluff!!! + pedro being whipped cause that's exactly what i want in my men, the cast makes cameos bc i love them!!! use of spanish (i'm latina so don't even try me), pedro wearing a skirt tehee

word count: 3,519 words

side note: i'm about as FERAL and horny as much as one could be!!! damn u pedro, making me walk out in the middle of class and walk on foot to the nearest theather for an early gladiator II screening (bc they're cheaper and i'm a jobless broke student lmao) that mind u it's my first solo trip to the movies but it's okay!!!! nobody interrupt me on my horny dilf hours amirite I TELL U that cinema was almost empty: just me, pedro and hey there's a spot if u wanna join mescal (look at my blog banner IYKYK) so yeah!!!! enjoy this porn lovechild that steemed from it; my pedro renaissance that'd been asleep since tlou dropped AWAKES (u don't get it, i literally watched narcos just for him) i'm so fr i need this man BIBLICALLY!!

"Lemme guess, that's her, right?"

Pedro looks up from his phone, slightly red and embarrassed. He would blame the color on the sun, and as an actor, fake his way out.

"No idea what you're talking about, Paul"

The young man chuckles.

"I mean, every break we get, you take your chair, sit the farthest and pull your phone with the most ridiculous grin I've ever seen. I'm afraid to tell you, friend, you aren't as slick as you think"

He leans back against the chair, covering his face with his large palm.

"At least I tried" he finds no point in lying anymore, "seems like I'm addicted, but if it wasn't for y/n, I wouldn't touch it"

"I'm curious, though" Paul scoots his chair closer, "who texts who? You or her?"

"Me" he answers, but then corrects himself quickly, a bit ashamed of how that makes him sound, "but it's mostly her first".

"Right" he doesn't sound convinced, rather curious and annoyed, something he's too old and tired for, "I don't believe you"

He's about to lock his phone, but the wallpaper (a selfie with you) would probably earn him another mock from Mescal.

"Too bad I don't need you to"

Before he can do so, the irish man yanks his phone away.

"Give it back!" he shouts, earning a few glances from the crew around them, "what are you, ten?"

"No, twenty-eight" they look like kids bickering. "No need to fight me, Mr. Pascal, they haven't taught us the new fighting choreography yet" he mocks, before the phone chimes; they both stop at the sound.

"What does this mean?" Paul asks. "Malta's nice" he reads out loud, "were you talking about possible future vacations? I might have to tag along"

He doesn't follow the man's joke, instead, looking at the message on your chat. Malta's nice, says the little cryptic message, and yes―it is cryptic, because you were just talking about missing each other and some other corny stuff he'd take to his grave. Not vacations, and certainly, not about the european island, which happens to also be the place were he's filming his latest movie.

"No, we weren't" he replies confused, "what do you think it means?"

"Well, obviously, you boys don't know anything" May pops up from behind, laughing.

"Were you eavesdropping?" he asks playfully, albeit, a little offended.

"No, you guys are just too loud" she replies nonchalant. "Besides, you aren't very good at hiding it, either"

"That's what I said!" Paul backs, laughing on his face.

"Stop being misterious and just drop it"

"It means" she pauses―laughing at her own little dramatic effect, "that you're getting a visit soon"

When you met Pedro, you were working in The Last Of Us. Nothing fancy, just part of the technical cast of the show: helping with the filming and stuff.

During those months, it was easy to find yourself falling for the main star (alongside Bella Ramsey), especially when you spent months behind a camera, capturing all of his perfect features; learning them by memory until you could draw them without seeing his face.

Yes, you had fallen for the older man, because it was as natural as breathing; easy as being alive―the fall so gentle and so easy, it was hard to know when the feelings started. You just woke up one day, feeling different.

You liked to act up―always had what you wanted, and times had changed (so it's not like he had to ask first): why not? Which is why during your last day of shooting you took some liquid courage on your veins and went up his way. It was at a little gathering the crew you've grown to call family organized, while wearing your favorite and tightest dress, that you approached him.

It surprised you that he even recognized you, but that's who he was: warm, welcoming and caring.

To augment the surprise, turns out he had eyed you already, but was too shy to do anything. Yes, the worlds most famous Chilean man. It did stroke your ego, and maybe that's why you feel like most of the time, you've got the upper hand on your relationship, despite the years in between.

Still, you feel like the last message you just sent was a bit too blunt. Now you sit at the tiny airport, pondering your next move.

You know your boyfriend isn't exactly the type to scold or get mad―despite his strong figure, but going against the only thing he asked you might test him. Which is why you feel nervous, despite the happiness around you, everyone in the airport looking straight out of a picture perfect summer edition magazine.

And your theory is proven exactly right when you arrive impromptu at the Gladiator II set: making heads turn and guards almost kick you out, thinking you're a fan.

"You don't get it!" you protest, "he's my boyfriend".

"Sure", they laugh on your face. "you're not the first to say that".

"She's not lying" oh, how you love that gravely voice. But not today: not when he sounds like a parent scolding a naive child. Not when his eyes bore into you, slightly irritated.

So now he's dragging you among the set, right to were his trailer is.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" you ask, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. He keeps dragging you by the arm, without sparing a glance in your way. Who does he think he is? "I wanted to tell Paul he made me cry―twice. You know I don't play about Normal People and Aftersun"

"But you do seem to play about my orders" he grunts out, opening the door to his trailer. The sunlight reflects against the white, slightly bothering your eyes with its shine, contrary to your boyfriend's gloomy behaviour.

"Are you being serious right now? You're not my dad to scold me. I just wanted to surprise you" you stand still, refusing to get inside. Pedro knows your character tends to be stubborn, and thought he finds it hot to reel you up sometimes, there are other times where he can't just stand that juvenile spirit of rage you tend to have when things don't go the way you want them to. "What's gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same" he mocks. "Get inside. Now"

"Rude" you scoff, but obey regardless, and he breathes out relieved you didn't do a scene like last time; he still can't show his face on that restaurant to this day.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me" you say a tad bit dissapointed, and Pascal feels the pissed off feelings clouding his brain start to dissipate.

"I do, amor" he sighs, "just hate to see you do things I tell you not to; waltzing in here like you own the place".

You don't see the mistake, though. What's wrong with wanting to do a little surprise? It's not like you were a stalker or something; just a very clingy girlfriend who happens to miss her boyfriend.

"So, you're not mad?" you venture, "tell me you're not embarrassed"

He looks at you, the fondness of his gaze betraying him.

"I'm not the one wearing a skirt while trying to sound intimidating" you joke while caressing the crook of his nose, knowing you always get on his good side. Being mad isn't something that lasts, "if anyone should be embarrassed, that's you"

"Are you saying I shouldn't wear one because I'm a man?" your boyfriend looks offended, "Have you forgotten the movie I'm starring in? People feared the skirt-wearing Roman army"

"Well, I'm not intimidated" you stand defiant, and something dark tints his brown eyes. You can feel the excitement begin pooling in your stomach.

"You're not?" he grips your wrists and yanks you to him, then holds your chin, tilting your head between his calloused fingers. "Well, cariño, you should be"

Your body slams against one of the trailers walls, and you have to suppress a whine.

"You must be punished for what you did today"

You give him a doe-eye look, pretending to be all innocent, as if you weren't enjoying the punishment.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been a good girl"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about" he clicks his tongue, "don't play dumb with me"

"I just came to visit you" you murmur, voice husky against his ear. He grunts, and with the proximity, his hard-on rasps against your bare legs, only partly covered by the flowy summer dress you're wearing, "is that so bad?"

"It is. Has sido mala, cariño" his hand travels down under your dress, carresing with his large palm the silhoutte of your ass. The rings on his fingers create a shock, cold metal against your warm sun-bathed skin. "Naughty girl"

"I promise I'll be good, papi" you purr, using that honeyed voice of yours that makes it hard: hard to say no and hard between his pants.

Pedro sits on a small couch he has inside the trailer, guiding you with his hand enveloped around yours, motioning you to follow with a care so soft, you'd doubt he's about to do to you what he is about to do to you. He pulls you across his lap, smiling (God, you love his smile) as your stomach presses against his tights.

"Don't worry" he breathes low, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make you a good girl. Tell me, aren't you?"

You swallow, "I am"

He moves the panties easily to the side, rubbing your pussy a little. He then spanks it softly, making you mewl at the sting.

Pedro continues to trace over it, "Are you sure about that?"

"N-no" you shiver in delight, resolve dissolving as quick as it came. "I'm naughty"

"It's good to be aware" he murmurs, "Dilo otra vez"

"I'm a naughty girl"

He lifts your head by your hair. "Tell me what you did"

"Disobeyed your orders, coming to the set" you whisper. He lets go of your hair, his hands traveling down again, slowly teasingly rubbing your pussy while he humms.

"You were a little brat, amor"

You whimpered and mewled in delight. "I was a very naughty brat"

He pushed his fingers inside you, plunging his fingers into your pussy.

"Look at you. You're soaking wet" he pumped his fingers in you, making you moan, "Is that why you came to see me? Couldn't wait any longer for daddy to be inside of you?"

You bucked a little, making him stop. He drags his fingers out, causing you to beg for him to go back.

"Answer my question you greedy thing" He leaned closer to your ear. "Did you need my cock this much?"

You whimper, "I do! Missed you so much"

He pushed his fingers back into you, provoking a moan out of you.

"You're always so needy for me" your core tenses, making you shiver. "How badly do you want me? Tell me"

You whimpered "Badly, papi"

"Say it" his face contorts in satisfaction at your pathethic display; crying little mess, "Who's cock, fingers and mouth make you feel good?"

You can't think at this point, your brain fuzzy and pussy hot, leaking. You kiss his lips, moaning against them, "you!"

"Just me, yes? Nobody else can make you feel this good?"

"No one!"

You involuntarily roll your hips to aid you in pleasure, yet Pedro stops you just before you can reach your orgasm.

"Little brat." he tuts, making you groan. "Did you think I'd let you? You were naughty today, baby"

You huff in annoyance, used to having your way.

"That's your punishment"

"But I'll behave" you mewl against his ear, "I promise"

“Good, because I'm planning on fucking your brains out” his hot breathe whispers in your ear seductively, trying his best not to slur the words at the drunken haze that your arousal provokes in him, "but you have to help me first"

You get on your knees, looking at the garment he's wearing. The skirt and general costume makes this all the more hot, mouth watering at the sight. You raise the skirt, glancing at the briefs; just seeing his dick strained against the fabric makes you wet in anticipation.

He sees the pleasure bore into your orbs, and before you do any dirty idea of yours, he's already warning:

"You have to take this off, what if we-"

"Alright" you cut him off, "but the skirt stays"

"Sigue, pues" he growls, voice low yet demanding, following you in your little game.

As you pull the briefs down, his erection springs out enthusiastically, slapping up against his lower abdomen. You shifted your gaze up to meet his, his eyelids heavy and his proud smirk driving you absolutely wild.

"That's right" he chokes out, "show me how much you missed it"

You give him a proud lick, and Pedro hisses at the moment his preseminal fluid goes in between your hungry lips.

Your tongue darts to the head of his cock, running over it several times before bobbing your head down, taking most of him in your mouth. He keeps praising as you pump the base of his cock with your hand. Your head bobs, yet you peek up to hear Pascal's little sounds and facial expression, a motivation so intimate in the way his brows furrow and eyes roll, mouth agape at your movements while his lip suck on those pretty lips of his. It makes you keep going. With every bob you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before slowly moving your way back up to the tip, increasing your suction the closer to his head you got. A throaty moan escapes the man above you when you now focus on the final lick, making him closer to coming, all while maintaining eye contact the entire way through.

"Don't do that" he rasps, yanking you by the hair again, as of punishment, but he knows you enjoy it, "you promised you'd be good"

You can't answer, so instead, you reach the head of his cock again, and now his eyes roll back, mumbling profanities that sound like heaven.

"Do you want them to hear us, brat? Qué necia eres" he manages to chastise while moaning.

You feel his dick stuck in your throat, and the way he's about to come; you think that after some time dating, you know him well enough.

You're about to leave with your mouth when he stops you.

"No" your eyes open in shock, "what? Did you think your punishment is over?" Pedro laughs, "don't look at me like that. Like you have never done it before"

He keeps you in place by the hair, the rings prickling against your scalp. You feel his muscles tense up, and before you can think anything else thick and hot shots of cum invade your mouth, making it sticky and warm.

"Don't pretend you don't like it" his voice goes dark, husky. "Swallow it all. Te han enseñado a no desperdiciar nada, ¿verdad? Show me your good manners, then"

When you pull out, your throat feels raspy.

"You gotta reward me" you cough out.

"I promised, didn't I?" his fingers trace your face delicately, with adoration.

"It's all about duty, General Acacius" you purr, and the dick springs out again. Hard.

"Princess..." he warns.

"For the glory of Rome" you joke and laugh, then cough, as your throat is still sore.

"Have you been reading my script?" as you avoid to answer, he just chuckles, "ay, nena"

"C'mere" he motions, and you sit on his lap again. Pedro lifts your dress, exploring the curve of your ass. There's anticipation as he hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to access your core.

"Fuck" you squirm at his touch, grinding your freed cunt against his hard cock. He grabs you by the hip, adjusting you right on his lap.

"You taste so good" he kisses down your throat, ending at the chest were your tits peak.

"Want them?" you offer, pulling your dress down. He kisses them, gently nipping at your perked up nipples.

A wave of pleasure courses through you, and with whines and moans, you show how desperate you are, the hunger making the meal taste better. After all those weeks missing him, you just want him to fuck you senseless.

His lips are rosy and swollen against yours, mouths clashing; starved of the yearned contact. Truth is, no matter how much you know how to touch yourself, it'll never be the same as having his hard cock tear through your tight folds.

Pedro easily aligns his leaking cock with your uncovered pussy, all while mantaining the kiss. He pushes down on you, your dripping cunt taking all of his rock-hard cock, fingers holding onto the soft brown grey sprinkled locs.

"Pedro" you cry out his name, full of ecstasy as the stretch burns so sweetly. His low grunts only fuel your desire.

You trace with your eyes his body, now bare without the upper part of the costume: his pecs and abs, flexing with every pump. With now free hands, your fingers travel to softly caress his stomach, even if your tits are jiggling and the pace is rather frenetic.

"I miss your tummy" you pout.

"I miss eating too" he whispers out, tiredly. He's reminded of his old age, forgetting about it as soon as you two kiss, because you bring out a stamina he thinks he doesn't have anymore; almost animalistic. His bones creak and adding the tiring filming day under the hot sun, he feels his body start to give up, the orgams closer and closer.

"No matter how you look" you clash your lips onto his, the adoration translating through the smile you press against, a trail of saliva that symbolizes how interwined you are, "you always look so fucking good"

He blushes, feeling like a stupid school boy with a crush. What did he even do to deserve you? Never thought a pretty young wild thing like you would even spare a glance on his way, but now you're taking all of his cock inside with such greed yet loom into his eyes with a love he's only dreamed of.

You're real, and his.

As soon as those words leave your mouth your orgasm spills over him, some of it dripping onto the skirt, making him curse. You can't stop, still meeting his thrusts halfway, despite your trembling body after reaching your high.

"Mierda" he groans against your mouth,

You feel yourself collapsing on top of him, the weight of the jet lag catching up.

"Getting tired, baby?" he coos. "Shit, and I thought I was old"

"You are" you reply back; you can never not have the last word. And he lets you, because, God, doesn't he love you? He pretends to look offended by it, but the way your eyes shine tell him you didn't mean it that way. "You and your white hairs" tracing over his moustache, a soft hand combing through his locks, "These wrinkles... don't you know how much I love them? how much I love you?"

"And you have no idea how much I love you" he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling it coming through. "God, wanna make you mine. Sólo mía" his pace slows. It's coming, and yes, you will take it all. "Wanna make you a baby, mami. Want you to take it all like the good girl you are"

When he comes, filling you with burning hot cum until you feel like you might burst, you're numb. But there's a feeling so content that pools warmth in your chest, that you can't say anything else, resting your head against his bare chest, both covered in sticky sweat.

"No sé cómo voy a explicar esto" he speaks through ragged breathes, and you can only smirk, "a squirted and cummed roman skirt".

"That isn't my problem" he scoffs, and you feel your head rise against the movement, earning a laugh out of you, "I'm not part of the movie"

"You'd sure think so, with the way you walked in here"

You roll your eyes, face hidden against his chest, "can you let that go?"

"You're right" he pulls you closer to him, hand enveloping you behind your bare back. The quiet doesn't bother you as you lie closer to his chest, his heartbeat the only thing you need to be at peace, "I think punishment time is over. Think you've learned your lesson"

"Then, how about we go out? I've heard Malta's beaches are pretty"

"Relájate, cariño. Seems you've gotten your energy back" he quips, then kisses your forehead. "We need to wait for everyone to get out"

"That embarrased you are of me?" you joke.

"No" he can already imagine his fellow cast members making fun of him, starting with Paul and Joseph when they see you and Connie who will totally notice the fun sticky stains on the costume, "but embarrased of the explanation I'll have to give"

[intoanotherworld23]

His Delicate Flower Of Rome

Summary: when Lucius found out you were Marcus Acacius’s daughter he knew he had to have you, and when the opportunity was right he wasn’t holding back

Warnings: explicit content, mature themes, smut, unprotected sex, slightly dom Lucius, submissive reader, smidge of spanking

A/N: hello my lovelies! I was genuinely surprised that there isn’t more fics of Paul or Lucius out there so I wanted to write something for him, and hope everyone likes it and share your thoughts on if I should keep writing for him! If you wish to be added to a tag list please let me know! Or if you have any requests do not hesitate to submit it to my inbox! Don’t forget to reblog and comment! Thank you! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

"That's it flower, that's a good woman." Soft praises echoing in your ear as you sank down on Lucius's erect length. His calloused hands caressing your skin so tenderly. "Are you feeling all of me?"

"Mhm." Struggling to find the right words as you concentrated more on adjusting around his cock. Twisting your face in an unusual manner he couldn't resist as he leaned forward to place light kisses on your heated cheeks and temple.

"Do the gods hold your tongue? Can you not speak?" Keeping his voice deep and low as his words teased you.

"Lucius please." Whimpering pathetically as you continued to grind your hips back and forth. Lucius chuckling at how eager and desperate you were for him.

"Do you enjoy fucking gladiators? Does that moisten your thighs? Does your father know what a whore you are?" He taunted you as you bit your bottom lip realizing that his words held more truth than you wanted. Soon as Lucius found out you were Marcus Acacius's daughter he wasted no time in seducing you. "I've been longing to feel this cunt around me for too long."

He loved the feeling of your skin touching his. The way your body had molded into his so perfectly. A fierce bloodthirsty champion of the arena was holding you like a delicate flower. Lucius was enjoying this way more than he intended, and was already planning on never letting you go.

"Gods you are tight." Large hands holding the fat flesh of your thighs his thumb stroking your skin soothingly. Feeling so warm and incredibly deep. "You have not been fucked the way you should be."

Nodding your head in agreement unable to speak as you wrapped your hands around his thick neck. Beginning to tremble as you moved your legs to raise yourself better. Lucious guiding your hips now as he looked down to where you two were connected.

"Take it easy I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself." Noticing how aggressively you were bouncing on his cock. Even as his hands swatted your backside in warning you still continued to ignore him. So lost in the clouds you didn't want to come down.

"I can do it Lucius." Assuring him with such innocent eyes he couldn't help but smirk at how badly you wanted this. "Gods you are so big."

"Fuck." He grunts before pulling your body on top of his as he laid along the bed. He was surprised how soft it was considering he had been sleeping on stone for so long.

Gasping as he lifted his knees and started to pound into your cunt with absolutely no mercy giving you exactly what you wanted. His lips warm and desperate as they peppered kisses along your neck and shoulder. His hands keeping a firm grip on your ass using it as leverage.

"Oh gods." Crying out as he growled in your ear with such animosity it had a shiver running down your spine.

"The gods will never make you feel like this." Hissing into your ear and in just mere seconds tears are glistening in your eyes with such intensity. "Only my cock can bring you to such pleasure."

"Yes, my champion." We're all the words Lucius needed to hear before he suddenly flipped you on your back his cock never slipping from inside you. Grabbing your legs and placing them on his shoulders, as he got right back into the same rhythm.

Drilling into your sweet spot as he leaned forward slightly his face right above yours. Lucius was oozing with confidence in everything that he did. Whether it was in the colosseum or the bedroom. Bit surprised that a man like him would want anything to do with the generals daughter.

"I'm close." Informing him as your body started to shake a fire igniting in the pit of your stomach. Head tossed back in complete ecstasy as you couldn't hold back anymore.

"Let go I am right here." Cooing into your ear like he was revealing his secrets. His deep and seductive tone was sending you right over the edge.

"Oh gods." Crying out as your orgasm was swiftly approaching still sensitive from your previous release by his tongue. Lucius looking down at your remarkable expression unable to look anywhere else. Loving that he was the one in control, and held all this power in your pleasure. It made him feel like a god.

Your senses were extremely heightened, and feeling overwhelmed and vulnerable. Not sure how much longer you could hold on. Lucius could sense this, and he knew what would help relieve you.

"Let me see those beautiful eyes." He instructed to which you immediately followed not seeing that he was reaching a hand down between your bodies to your puffy clit. Rubbing rapid circles making you scream hands scratching along his back surely leaving marks.

Your ribcage rising and falling with each quick breath. Hands falling down to your side feeling loose and numb. Stomach trembling from the resounding orgasm you just experienced. Your battered cunt was so sore from being stretched and abused. Feeling his hands gently caressing your trembling thighs as he stayed still inside of you.

“The gods have surely blessed me on this night.” Speaking trying to catch his breath as he smiled down at you.

“Seems the gods bless you every night.” Moving from underneath him his cock slipping out as he laid next to you. The only sound you could hear was the water fountain outside of your room, and the crackles from the fireplace. Expecting Lucius to gather himself, and never speak to you again.

“Take comfort in my arms, and I will hold you while you sleep.” Pulling your body against his before you could say anything. The unexpected gesture made you feel something that you’ve never felt before. “Sleep my delicate flower.”

[theetherealbloom]

Don't Stop Talking To Me, And Maybe Stay Here Forever

Summary: You join Pedro Pascal in Morocco while he’s filming Gladiator 2. Between the beauty of the Moroccan landscape, the two of you share intimate moments, from quiet rooftop dinners to playful photo-taking and teasing with the cast.

Or… “I'll hold you, I'll know you. I'll never leave out the back door. And I'd love to complete you, hope you get all you could ask for.”

I just read your latest pedro fic it was the BEST DAMN THING i’ve ever read, my heart is going to burst out of my chest from all the butterflies 🦋🫠❤️ will you write more for pedro? perhaps his gf could visit him in marocco or something while he’s filming gladiator and to meet everyone from set and maybe have some alone quality time? :3 just a suggestion 😌 anyways have a lovely dayyy ^^ — anon

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, Age-Gap(ish), TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Cuddling, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Social Media, Embarrassment, Teasing, Shower, Slight Nudity, Make Out Session, Celebrities

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Okay, so, we’ve all seen the photo dumps!??!! Yes! GREAT! I haven’t watched Gladiator 2 cause it isn’t out yet in my country, so there’ll be no spoilers here mhmhmhmhm. I’m just gonna make stuff up based on the pictures Pedro posted on his Instagram lol. And again, this is all made-up, fictional, self-indulgent vibes so pls no one come after me ahhhhhh T^T

Also lowkey, I can see multiple parts to this so… stay tuned.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Songs: Packing It Up by Gracie Abrams, this is how you fall in love by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler

gif by @a7estrellas

→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist |

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — DAY

The warm Moroccan breeze kissed your skin as you stepped onto the bustling set of Gladiator 2. Pedro’s laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, his distinct voice easy to pick out over the hum of activity. Your heart swelled just hearing it. He was always magnetic, but here—working, immersed in a world of creativity and camaraderie—he was luminous.  

You adjusted your sunglasses, feeling both excited and slightly anxious. Meeting Pedro’s castmates felt like stepping into his other life, one where you weren’t the center of his world but a welcome visitor orbiting it. He’d reassured you endlessly. “They’ll love you. I mean, how could they not?” But still, nerves lingered.  

“Mi amor!” Pedro’s voice cut through your thoughts. He emerged from behind a cluster of tents, his smile so wide it could eclipse the Moroccan sun.  

“Hey, stranger.” You grinned, letting him sweep you into a tight hug.  

He pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms still firmly around your waist. “You made it,” he whispered, his lips brushing your temple.  

“Of course, I made it,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I missed you too much to stay away.”  

The day unfolded in bursts of joy.  

Pedro introduced you to Coco Ullrich, Paul Mescal, and the rest of the cast. Everyone was warm and welcoming, their teasing camaraderie quickly drawing you in. Pedro stayed close, his hand finding yours at every opportunity, like he couldn’t stand to be too far away.  

Later, you found yourself perched on a stool in the makeup trailer, Pedro sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. “Hold still,” you said, trying to fix his disheveled hair.  

Coco stood nearby, laughing as Pedro playfully swatted at your hands. “I’m serious, guapo! You’ll go out there looking like you just rolled out of bed.”  

“Maybe I did roll out of bed,” he quipped, grinning.  

You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t, but if you keep squirming, I’m going to make sure you look like it.”  

Coco shook her head, still laughing. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”  

“I have my ways,” you said, giving Pedro a mock glare.  

Pedro leaned closer, his eyes softening. “You’re lucky I love you,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours before you could stop him.  

“Pedro!” you protested, laughing as he pulled you into a full kiss, distracting you from your task.  

“Hopeless,” Coco muttered, snapping a quick photo of the moment.  

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — SUNSET

The Moroccan sunset painted the sky in hues of gold and rose as you, Pedro, and the cast settled onto the soft blankets laid out for an impromptu picnic. The sprawling desert seemed to stretch infinitely, its serene stillness a striking contrast to the chaotic energy of the set. A light breeze rustled through the palm trees in the distance, carrying the faint sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses.

Pedro sat behind you, his arms comfortably wrapped around your waist as you leaned back into his chest. His fingertips absentmindedly traced small, lazy circles on your bare skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly. It was a touch that grounded you, soothing and sweet, and yet it made your heart ache with affection.

“This is perfect,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might shatter the fragile beauty of the moment.

Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “No, you’re perfect,” he said softly, his voice laced with adoration.

You turned your head to look at him, catching the warmth in his gaze. He looked at you like you hung the very stars above, and your cheeks flushed. “Cheesy,” you teased, though you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

“Honest,” he countered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. His nose nudged yours affectionately, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.

Paul Mescal, lounging nearby with a bottle of something cold in his hand, cleared his throat dramatically. “Alright, lovebirds, can you save the smoldering for the cameras? Some of us are trying to enjoy the sunset without third-wheeling your Notebook audition.”

Coco Ullrich snorted from her spot on the blanket, where she was busy assembling a makeshift charcuterie board. “Please, Paul, don’t act like you’re not taking notes for your own love scenes.”

Paul shot her a deadpan look. “What’s there to take notes on? I’m already perfect.”

“Debatable,” Coco quipped, popping a grape into her mouth and grinning.  

Pedro chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back. “Paul, don’t be jealous. You already found someone who tolerates you.”  

“Oh, I’m not jealous,” Paul said, gesturing between you and Pedro. “I’m inspired. The level of clinginess you two have achieved—it’s an art form.”  

“Clinginess?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.  

“Yes, clinginess,” Paul said, smirking. “He hasn’t let go of you since you got here. It’s like watching a koala in human form.”

Coco leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you think he’d survive a day without her?”  

“Doubtful,” Paul replied, his tone grave.  

Pedro shook his head, his arms tightening around you playfully. “Let them joke,” he said into your ear, his voice a low murmur. “They’re just bitter they don’t have their partners to hold them while they complain about the heat.”  

You turned your head slightly to whisper back, “I think they’re projecting.”  

Pedro laughed, loud and unabashed, and the sound sent warmth flooding through you.  

“Alright, enough roasting Pedro,” Coco said, waving her hands. “Let’s focus on the important stuff—like this cheese board I’m absolutely nailing.”

“Coco, you put a block of cheese next to some crackers,” Paul pointed out.  

“And yet, it’s still better than anything you’ve contributed,” she shot back.

You couldn’t help but laugh as they continued to bicker, the dynamic between the cast a perfect blend of teasing and genuine affection. It felt good to be a part of this world for a little while, to see Pedro in his element and to share these small, beautiful moments with the people who meant so much to him.  

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with deeper hues of crimson and violet, Pedro shifted slightly behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his voice meant just for you.

“I’m better than okay,” you said, turning your face to his. “This is one of those moments I’ll never forget.”

“Same,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “But mostly because you’re here.”

Paul groaned from across the blanket. “Seriously, someone hand me a bucket. I can’t handle this level of sap.”

“You’re just missing Gracie,” Coco teased, tossing a cracker at Paul with a sly grin.  

Paul caught it mid-air with a dramatic flourish. “She’s the love of my life, thank you very much. I’m thriving, just long-distance thriving.” His wide smile softened slightly, a dreamy look crossing his face.  

Pedro chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder as he held you closer. “See, even Paul can be romantic. It’s not just us being disgustingly in love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul said, waving him off, though the grin never left his face. “But you two are setting the bar impossibly high. Stop making the rest of us look bad.”

Coco shook her head with mock exasperation. “Let’s face it, no one can compete with Pedro’s clingy koala act.”  

“Hey, it’s not clingy if it’s mutual,” you chimed in, leaning back into Pedro’s embrace.  

“Exactly!” Pedro said, kissing the side of your neck for emphasis. “This is just... efficient affection.”  

“Efficient affection?” Coco repeated, laughing so hard she nearly knocked over the cheese board. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Pedro shrugged, utterly unbothered, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured, “Don’t let them ruin this for us.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you whispered back, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.  

The first stars began to dot the darkening sky, their glow faint but steady against the fading hues of gold and rose. The laughter of the group blended with the soothing whisper of the desert breeze, wrapping the evening in a cocoon of warmth and love.

You let out a contented sigh, your fingers intertwining with Pedro’s. These moments—filled with jokes, tenderness, and the quiet magic of a Moroccan sunset—were the kind you knew you’d carry with you forever.

THE NEXT DAY

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – AFTERNOON  

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden light over the sprawling desert set. The faint hum of activity outside the large tent provided a calming backdrop as you and Pedro sat together, stealing a moment away from the chaos of production.  

Pedro’s lap had become your designated resting place, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as you leaned into him. You had been quietly chatting about the day—how stunning the desert looked on camera, how Paul had stolen one of Coco’s snacks during a break—when the warmth of the afternoon began to lull you both into sleep.  

His hand moved lazily up and down your back, the motion soothing as his voice grew quieter, more relaxed. “You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “this might be my favorite part of the day.”  

“Falling asleep during work?” you teased, your voice soft and playful.  

“Falling asleep with you,” he corrected, his smile audible in his words.  

It wasn’t long before exhaustion claimed you both, your head tucked under his chin and his cheek resting against your hair. The quiet hum of the tent became a comforting cocoon, and time seemed to stretch and blur.  

The sound of muffled laughter stirred you from sleep, pulling you out of the warm haze. You blinked against the light, realizing you were still tucked into Pedro’s chest, his arms holding you close even as he began to wake.  

“Don’t move,” a familiar voice called. You turned your head to see Paul Mescal standing a few feet away, phone in hand, his grin wide and mischievous.  

Next to him, Coco Ullrich smirked as she aimed her phone at the two of you. “We’re documenting history here. You’ll thank us later.”  

Pedro stirred, squinting at them through his grogginess. “Seriously?” His voice was raspy, a mix of sleep and disbelief.  

Paul shrugged, grinning even wider as he showed Pedro the photo. “We couldn’t resist. Look at this. It’s like a promo poster for the most annoyingly sweet rom-com ever.”  

Pedro glanced at the photo, then at you, and laughed softly. “We should use that for the holiday cards this year.”  

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “This is so embarrassing. They’re never going to let us live this down.”  

Coco laughed, flipping through her photos. “Oh, it’s way too late for that. I’m sending this to the group chat and the PR team. They’ll love it.”  

“Please don’t,” you pleaded, your voice muffled against Pedro’s shirt.  

Paul tilted his head dramatically. “Why not? It’s just a little fun. Besides, you two are giving us all cavities with how sweet you are. We’re suffering.”  

Pedro smirked, holding you a little tighter. “You’re suffering? Sounds like a personal problem.”  

“Alright, alright, enough!” A gravelly voice interrupted, and you looked up to see Ridley Scott standing at the edge of the tent. His hands were on his hips, but the amused twinkle in his eye gave him away.  

“Ridley,” you started, your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’m so sorry—”  

He held up a hand to stop you, his smirk growing. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I should thank you. Pedro’s been suspiciously well-behaved since you arrived. But,” he added with a pointed glance at Pedro, “if this keeps up, we’ll have to rename the film The Gladiator and the Muse. Production’s going to take twice as long.”  

The crew burst into laughter, and you buried your face back in Pedro’s chest, groaning. “This is officially the most embarrassing moment of my life.”  

Pedro chuckled, his hand brushing gently over your back. “Embarrassing? Nah. You’re the best thing about being here.”  

You peeked up at him, your cheeks still warm, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You mean that?”  

“Every word,” he said, his voice soft. “You make everything easier, better… you make it all worth it.”  

Your heart swelled, and a small smile broke through your embarrassment. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try to believe you.”  

“Believe me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.  

Paul groaned, breaking the tender moment. “Someone get a camera crew. We’re turning this into a reality show. Lovebirds in the Desert.”  

Pedro laughed, finally standing and pulling you to your feet. “Careful, Paul. You might not survive the sequel.”  

Ridley clapped his hands, his voice carrying over the lingering laughter. “Alright, lovebirds, enough stalling. Let’s get back to work! Pedro, we’ve got a fight scene to shoot.”  

Pedro gave you one last reassuring smile before winking. “Don’t go far. I’ll need more luck soon.”  

You nodded, watching him head back to set, and felt a sense of warmth that no amount of teasing could dampen. As you stepped out of the tent, the desert sun shining overhead, you knew this moment—this strange, beautiful mix of chaos and love—was one you’d carry with you forever.

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – EVENING  

The rooftop restaurant was like something out of a dream. Lanterns hung delicately from wrought iron fixtures, casting warm, flickering light over the table as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was cool but pleasant, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from a nearby garden. Below, the city of Marrakech stretched out in an intricate maze of rooftops and twinkling lights, the hum of life soft and distant.  

Pedro had arranged everything, from the secluded corner table to the small vase of your favorite flowers waiting when you arrived. He always had a way of making even the simplest moments feel like magic.  

“Look at this view,” you murmured, leaning against the wrought iron railing as the sky turned from gold to a deep, dusky pink.  

Pedro stood close behind you, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. “The view’s got nothing on you,” he said softly, the teasing lilt in his voice balanced by the sincerity in his eyes.  

You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to face him. “That’s a terrible line.”  

“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning as he pulled out his phone. “But it’s true. Hold still.”  

Before you could protest, he snapped a photo, catching you mid-laugh as you tried to dodge the camera. “Pedro!” you groaned, your cheeks warming.  

He chuckled, looking at the photo with a self-satisfied smile. “Perfect. Might frame this one.”  

“Stop it,” you said, trying to grab the phone from him, but he held it out of reach, his grin only widening.  

“Never,” he replied, his free hand reaching across the table to take yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and his gaze softened. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  

Your stomach fluttered at the way he said it—no teasing this time, just quiet, earnest affection.  

“Now you’re just being unfair,” you muttered, trying to hide your blush.  

Pedro leaned forward, his head tilting slightly as if to study you closer. “Not unfair. Just honest.”  

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was pounding. In a bid to regain some ground, you grabbed your own phone and quickly snapped a picture of him just as he brought your hand to his lips. The resulting photo was unfairly good—his lashes long, the lantern light catching the gold in his eyes, the softness in his expression making your chest ache.  

“Got you,” you said triumphantly, holding up the phone.  

Pedro laughed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again as he met your gaze. “Now we’re even?”  

“Now we’re even,” you confirmed, though your grin gave away how smug you felt.  

The waiter arrived with dessert just then—a delicate plate of Moroccan pastries accompanied by a small bowl of honey and almonds. You both leaned forward at the same time, reaching for the same pastry, and burst into laughter when your fingers brushed.  

“Go ahead,” Pedro said, gesturing gallantly.  

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, breaking off a piece of the pastry and dipping it into the honey. You held it up to his lips, your pulse skipping when he leaned in without hesitation.  

“Delicious,” he said, his voice low and warm. “But I think it tastes better coming from you.”  

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, trying to suppress a smile as you took a bite yourself. The flaky pastry melted on your tongue, its sweetness perfectly balanced by the honey.  

As you shared the dessert, your conversation drifted from playful teasing to the little things that filled your days. Pedro told you about a funny moment on set earlier when Paul had forgotten his lines and improvised something so absurd even Ridley couldn’t stop laughing.  

“And then,” Pedro continued, his grin infectious, “he tried to blame me, saying my face was too distracting.”  

“Well, he’s not wrong,” you teased, earning a dramatic roll of Pedro’s eyes.  

“Oh, so now you’re on his side?”  

“I’m on the side of the truth,” you said, popping an almond into your mouth.  

Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  

Your smile softened, and you leaned your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “Probably still charming everyone who crosses your path.”  

“Not like this,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. He reached across the table again, his fingers lacing with yours. “You make everything better. You make me better.”  

Your throat tightened at the rawness in his voice, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling deep in your chest.  

“You do the same for me,” you said quietly.  

The soft music playing in the background faded into the hum of the city as the two of you sat there, the world narrowing to just this moment. Pedro brought your hand to his lips again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your joined hands on the table.  

As the night stretched on, the two of you continued to talk about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, the places you wanted to visit together, the little quirks you loved about each other.  

When it was time to leave, Pedro stood and extended a hand to help you up. “One last picture before we go?” he asked, his phone already in hand.  

You nodded, letting him pull you into his side. The lanterns glowed softly behind you as he kissed your cheek just as the camera clicked.  

Looking at the photo, you smiled. It was perfect—just like this night, just like him. 

L’HÔTEL MARRAKECH, MOROCCO – EVENING

The golden hues of the evening sun had long faded, leaving the hotel suite illuminated only by the soft glow of warm, ambient lighting. Laughter filled the room, bubbling up between stolen glances and playful teasing. Pedro leaned against the edge of the plush sofa, his hand resting casually on his hip as you doubled over with giggles at another one of his overly dramatic impressions. 

“I’m just saying,” he said with a grin, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “If anyone here is getting an Oscar for Most Entertaining Human, it’s me.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting at him lightly. “You? Entertaining? Please. You’re just lucky I think you’re cute.”

“Just cute?” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, mock-hurt murmur. He stepped closer, tilting his head. “That’s disappointing.”

And just like that, with no warning, he took your hand and spun you gently into his arms. There was no music, no sound but the faint rustle of the curtains and the muted hum of life outside your window. But to Pedro, there was no need for anything more. 

“Dance with me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, pulling you flush against him.

“Pedro,” you started to protest, but the way he was looking at you—so earnest, so unguarded—stole the words from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go. 

“You are the reason I can breathe,” he murmured. His voice cracked slightly, raw and unfiltered. “The reason I can survive.”

Your chest tightened, and your hands gripped the soft cotton of his shirt as you closed your eyes. Slowly, the two of you began to sway, side to side, as if the universe itself had orchestrated this silent melody just for you.

“Pedro,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill as the weight of his words sank deep into your soul. “You don’t have to—”

“Shh.” He cut you off gently, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “I want to. You’re my safe place.”

Together, you moved as one, the world outside forgotten. The phones were switched off, the curtains drawn, and for a moment, it felt like time had ceased to exist. All that mattered was this—his arms around you, your head resting on his chest, and the way his heartbeat felt steady and strong beneath your cheek.

“What’s easy is right,” you whispered suddenly, echoing words your mother had once said. The truth of it struck you in that moment, how being with Pedro never felt like a choice—it was instinct. Like breathing. Like coming home. 

Pedro smiled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “What’s easy is right,” he repeated softly. “Then I guess it’s easy to know... I’m going to love you forever.”

You laughed softly, though the lump in your throat made it difficult. “Forever’s a long time.”

He tilted your chin up, his warm, brown eyes crinkling at the corners with a quiet joy. “Not nearly long enough,” he said, his voice a low promise. “You’ll be my best friend until we’re old and gray. And even then, I’ll still love you.”

There was something in the way he said it—so simple, so sure—that your knees nearly gave out. But as always, Pedro was there, holding you steady, keeping you close. 

This is how you fall in love, you realized. Not in a blaze of fireworks, but in the quiet moments where you let go and they hold you up. 

“Do you know what you’ve done to me?” Pedro said after a long silence, his voice filled with wonder. “You make my stomach ache with hope. You make my hands stop shaking. I wake up smiling now, and it’s because of you.”

You bit your lip, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “Pedro…”

“No, listen to me,” he insisted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Love isn’t supposed to be heavy. It’s not supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to be this. Us. A safe place. A hand to hold through every storm.”

His words broke something open inside you, and you nodded, letting the tears spill over. “You’re my safe place too,” you whispered. “You make me believe I deserve this.”

Pedro pulled you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head as he swayed you gently. “You deserve everything,” he murmured. “Every laugh, every sunrise, every stupid little joke I’ll tell for the next fifty years.”

You both laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet hum of the room. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment—this love that was soft, steady, and unshakable.

Right from your hips to your cuticles, you were everything to him, and he was everything to you. Wherever you both went, it was heaven. And neither of you ever wanted to leave. 

Steam filled the bathroom, the warmth clinging to the mirrors and wrapping around the two of you like a soft cocoon. Pedro stood under the cascade of water, droplets running down his broad shoulders and soaking his messy curls. His eyes flicked toward you, a tender smile tugging at his lips as you stepped closer, your fingers gently reaching for the shampoo bottle.  

“Turn around,” you said softly, motioning for him to face away from you.  

“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, though there was a hint of shyness in his voice as he obeyed.  

You lathered the shampoo between your hands, your touch careful and affectionate as you worked it into his hair. His curls were soft and damp beneath your fingers, the grays glinting like silver in the dim light.  

“I love your hair,” you murmured, your voice reverent.  

Pedro let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, tilting his head back slightly. “The gray makes me look old.”  

You paused, your hands stilling in his hair as you leaned around to catch his gaze. “Stop that. It doesn’t make you look old; it makes you look distinguished. And I happen to love every single one of these.” You tugged playfully at a curl for emphasis.  

He gave you a sheepish look, his lips twitching as he fought back a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”  

“Stuck with you?” you repeated, feigning outrage. “Oh, no, Pedro. I chose you—gray hair and all. And I’d choose you again. Every single day.”  

His pout softened into a smile, one so genuine it made your chest ache. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple.  

“And you deserve it,” you countered firmly, finishing his hair with a rinse.  

When it was your turn, Pedro insisted on returning the favor, his hands gentle as he massaged the conditioner into your hair. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck as he marveled at you.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity.  

“Even covered in soap?” you teased, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.  

“Especially covered in soap,” he replied, leaning down to steal a kiss.  

The shower ended with a flurry of soft laughter and playful splashes, the two of you wrapped in towels as you padded into the bedroom. Pedro pulled on a pair of boxers while you slipped into one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs.  

The two of you slipped into bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden light over the room. The air smelled faintly of the lavender lotion you’d rubbed on your hands, mingling with the subtle hint of Pedro’s cologne that still lingered on his skin. He had one arm draped lazily over your waist, his other hand holding a book he’d claimed to be interested in, though his wandering eyes betrayed him.

A book rested in your lap, too, but you’d long given up on reading. Instead, you could feel his gaze flickering to you, watching you more than the words on his page. It was endearing, the way he thought you wouldn’t notice, how he never grew tired of studying you like he’d never quite figure you out.  

“You’re not reading,” you finally accused, peeking at him over the edge of your book.  

Pedro grinned, unabashed. He set his book down on the nightstand and scooted closer, leaning his head on the pillow beside you. “Can you blame me?” he said, his voice soft and teasing. His hand reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “I’ve got the most beautiful view right here.”  

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the warmth rising in your cheeks, but the smile that stretched across your lips betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, nudging him lightly with your elbow.  

“And yet, you love me,” he replied with mock arrogance, leaning back against the headboard with a self-satisfied smirk.  

“Unfortunately for me,” you quipped, though your tone was dripping with affection.  

Pedro’s laugh filled the room, low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket. You settled back into your spot, his arm tightening slightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. For a while, there was only the sound of pages turning and the occasional creak of the bed as one of you shifted.  

Eventually, the books were forgotten, abandoned on the nightstand as the room grew darker, the soft click of the lamp switch plunging you into the comforting glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains.  

Lying side by side, your head resting on Pedro’s chest, you let your fingers trace lazy patterns along the bare skin of his arm. But your mind wouldn’t quiet, and as the minutes stretched on, the thoughts bubbling inside you demanded to be voiced.  

“Okay, but really,” you began, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Why is ‘llama’ spelled with two L’s? Wouldn’t one be enough? It’s not like we say ‘Llama-la.’”  

Pedro let out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. He tilted his head down to look at you, his lips quirking into a smile. “Mi amor, I adore you, but it’s almost midnight. Go to sleep.”  

“I can’t until I solve this mystery,” you said with mock determination, lifting your head to look at him.  

He sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation. “Fine. Maybe the second ‘L’ is there to confuse aliens.”  

You gasped, sitting up slightly. “That makes so much sense! Like, imagine aliens judging us for eating cereal with milk.”  

Pedro chuckled again, his arm tightening around you to keep you close. “Cereal with milk is sacred,” he said, his voice heavy with playful conviction. “If aliens have an issue with that, I’ll fight them myself.”  

You grinned, turning to prop yourself up on your elbow so you could face him fully. “Okay, serious question. If you could ask someone anything and be guaranteed the truth, who would it be?”  

Pedro cracked one eye open, his other hand lazily resting on your hip. “I’d ask you why you’re so determined to keep me awake,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile.  

You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’m serious!”  

“Alright, alright,” he relented, the mirth in his eyes softening as he considered your question. “I’d ask my third-grade teacher if she really lost my homework or if she just didn’t like me.”  

You burst out laughing, the sound muffled by the way you buried your face into his chest. “That’s what you’d waste your question on?”  

“Don’t judge me,” he said with mock indignation, his fingers trailing absent patterns on your back. “It’s haunted me for years.”  

Your laughter subsided into a warm giggle as you tilted your head up to look at him. “Fine. My turn. I’d ask my mom if she’s proud of me. Like… really proud. Not just the ‘I’m your mom, so I have to say it’ kind of proud.”  

Pedro’s hand stilled on your back, his gaze softening as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “She’s proud of you, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “And so am I. Always.”  

The weight of his words wrapped around your heart, a comforting balm that eased the ache of self-doubt. You nuzzled closer, your fingers curling around his as you let the quiet stretch between you for a moment.  

Moments later, you broke the silence again, your voice a whisper in the dark. “When I was little, I thought my toys came alive when I wasn’t looking. Like Toy Story. Honestly, I still kinda think they do.”  

Pedro let out a deep laugh, his chest shaking beneath you as he pulled you even closer. “I wouldn’t put it past them,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “Your stuffed bunny? Definitely a troublemaker.”  

You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly light as his hand returned to its slow, soothing patterns on your back.  

The conversation drifted into comfortable nonsense, the kind of midnight musings that didn’t need to make sense but brought a certain kind of intimacy only shared in the quiet hours of the night.  

Finally, as your eyelids grew heavy and your words faded into murmurs, Pedro pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Goodnight, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice soft and steady.  

In his arms, with the world outside forgotten, you felt safe. Loved. His heartbeat was the only rhythm you needed as you drifted into sleep, a love like no other holding you steady through the night.

[layaispunk]

oh marcus acacius, i need to wash you up in a nice warm bath with rose petals and feed you grapes

[pha55ed]

Nonsense Christmas || F1/F2

type :: smut!

tw/cw :: smut!, hot women in minimal clothing!!!, sexual jokes,

contains :: carlos, charles, lando, oscar, max (no smut yet!) , ollie, paul, pepe (no smut yet!)

summary :: you get offered to do a photoshoot for christmas which is awesome! but the drivers then find out it's a lingerie shoot and lose their minds

xmas celly here! || f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist

Carlos Sainz | 55

yourusername : so excited to announce my collab with savage x fenty! this design is so cute and perfect for girlys to surprise their bfs (or gfs) in! which is what im doing rn! hi carlos 👋😊

→ user 01: OH MY GAWWWD??? JAW ON THE FLOOR

⎯→ user 02: Carlos gotta be able to fight or else imma snatch her away

→ carlossainz55: you look lovely! (answer the phone now)

⎯→ yourusername: thank you!! (no, im scared

→ user 03: her face card is so lethal

→ user 04: she's this generations it girl omfg

The second you answered his calls, Carlos was hyperventilating. It was like you could practically hear how feral he was going after seeing your photoshoot. You couldn't help but smile at the thought of him going crazy. Your surprise went perfectly!

"I'm coming home now," He says sternly, "Unlock all the doors, I'm running in."

"Well that doesn't sound very safe." You say, trying to joke with him. Thank god he couldn't see you in person or else he would see how wide you were grinning at his words.

"Oh shut up, wait for me on the bed" He says as he hangs up.

You did your job and now all you had to do was wait- Oh my fucking god he's at the door already. You can't even say anything before he's all up on you, getting ready to berate you for looking too good for the world's eyes.

"I missed you" He mumbles as he kisses your neck eagerly. His hands roaming down to your ass, giving it a squeeze which makes you laugh. But he's not smiling at all. You knew what was gonna happen and you didn't care.

Charles Leclerc | 16

yourusername : the victoria secret winter showcase was such a blast! loved seeing all my girls again and esp all you guys! i wouldn't be here without you <3 happy holidays to all

→ user 01: MOTHER IS BACK!!!!

⎯→ user 02: Literally the best walk in the whole show

→ charles_leclerc: i will go to war for you

⎯→ user 03: she awoken his primal instincts

→ user 04: will we see you again??? u were SLAYINGGG

⎯→ yourusername: duh! see you next year <3

→ user 04: she's beautiful, humble, and with a rich boyfriend? when is it my turn

The second you got off stage, Charles was doing his absolute best to compose himself. Seeing you still in your lingerie set, cute little hat and gloves made him pants feel so tight. You kept wanting to say goodbye to all the girls, thanking the staff, being your usual self. This is the one time Charles was wishing you would keep your mouth shut and rush home.

Once you both were out, he rushed you into the car. But not the passenger seat, instead he pushed you into the back seats. He quickly followed you, unbuckling his belt and staring at your body.

"Charles!" You say, shocked at how desperate this man was. "We can't! People are gonna see-"

"And?" He says as he rips his belt off and begins to unbutton his shirt. "My windows are tinted, amor, no one will see."

He's hands are quick, instantly getting your clothes off too. Once he saw the same white lacy set you were wearing earlier, he can't help but grin like crazy. He was worshipping the ground you walked on. Practically licking your footsteps.

"I'm so so lucky," He groans, his hands caresses your body with such care. "So so lucky."

Lando Norris | 04

yourusername : skim's winter collection is out!!! And I'm part of it! So happy to show off these sets to the world ❤️

→ user 01: body is TEAAAA

⎯→ user 02: the body of my dream fr fr

→ landonorris: but when i wear ur bras I'm a slut???

⎯→ yourusername: u got no boobs to deserve a bra

⎯→ landonorris: so ur calling me skinnyyyyyyy?

→ user 03: slayed so hard that dinosaurs r extinct

⎯→ yourusername: don't blame me for that :(

→ user 04: can't believe lando is just... joking around... do u think this is a fucking game? you think this is funny? i will steal your girl and propose and start a family of 5.

⎯→ landonorris: trust me, we're gonna be a family of 5 once i'm home

And he wasn't joking about that comment because you two have been at it for almost an hour at this point. He was flipping you from position to position just to make sure he got every single angle of you in this lingerie set. Doggy, missionary, cowgirl, all sorts of positions that even Sabrina Carpenter hasn't tried.

He already cummed once too, but he was so horny that he was instantly recharged. Thankfully he was sane enough to help clean you up before pounding you once again. But that was the only break you had. You couldn't help but just feel bad for your neighbors for having to hear you two go wild.

But Lando isn't a monster! He knows that it can hurt after going for so long. So while your whining, begging him to slow down or give you a break for minute, he simply just reaches for the bedside drawer. He whips out a fat tube of lube and squirts some onto his dick before quickly getting back to work.

"L-Love you," He mumbles as he keeps thrusting in and out "Love you so much, ahh"

Oscar Piastri | 81

yourusername: let my inner princess out for Victoria Secret's Santa Baby collection! every piece is so precious, just like all the crew members and girls 💋

→ user 01: literally a goddess

⎯→ user 02: blessed by aphrodite herself

⎯→ user 03: she IS aphrodite

⎯→ yourusername: don't curse me girl 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️

→ user 04: ur such a ball of sunshine UGHHHH

→ user 05: i pray this doesn't get on my bf's feed

→ user 06: can oscar fight?

⎯→ oscarpiastri: no but i can dox you

You know "Jealous" by Nick Jonas? That's exactly how he's feeling right now. Seeing everyone admire not just your body but how lovely your energy is was making him want to burn the entire building down. He was so supportive of your being a model, how could he gate keep your beauty from the world?

But now, oh god he hates this. He rushes you both home after the shoot and instantly lays you on the bed. His mind is racing yet he's not saying much to you.

"Oscar?" You ask him, looking up at him from the bed. Which instantly makes his dick throb, something you see through his pants. Even just saying his name might drive him to the edge.

"If I cover you in hickies, you can't work anymore, right?" He says, taking off your top and rushing to unbutton your jeans.

"Don't do that," You say trying to sound stern but you did love the idea. "You know I have another shoot soon!"

"You have foundation," He says as he begins to kiss down your neck and pressing harsh circles on your clit "You'll live." He says as he pushes your panties to the side. Your breathing hitches, knowing how good he was with his fingers.

"Unless," He pulls his hands away and looks down at you. "you really don't want to?"

But he knows you want it, he just wanted to hear you say it. To know you were as needy for him that he was for you.

Max Verstappen | 01

yourusername: i WOULD be freezing cold but thank god for the skims fleece bodysuits!! happy holidays to all! may ur pussys be warm and used ⛷️

→ user 01: (Y/N)?!?!?!1 THE CAPTION

⎯→ user 02: i need to know if kim's reaction to this 😭

→ user 03: literally like a barbie doll

→ user 04: looked at myself and sighed

⎯→ yourusername: stalked ur page and found ur facebook, GIRL u go to stanford, have a nice ass house, AND A LETHAL ASS FACECARDDDD hush ur mouth, ur lovely

⎯→ user 04: omg thank you??!?!?!?!! 😭😭

⎯→ user 05: she's the ultimate girls-girls

→ user 06: if max doesn't comment soon i'mma assume she's free for me

→ maxverstappen1: sorry i was drooling, im only commenting to scare user 06 away

⎯→ user 06: im gonna hex you.

Smut coming soon! So tired :”) I’m sorry! MWAH 🫶 Come back tomorrow !

Oliver Bearman | 87

yourusername: so so so happy to modeling the newest set for my bestie's brand! i'm wearing... nothing... 😉 the real sets come out in a week! stay tuned MWAH

→ user 01: my whole face is PINK omg

⎯→ user 02: my tip is RED

⎯→ user 03: oh...

⎯→ user 02: i'm a girl, dw

→ user 03: ... start an onlyfans... please.... please please please

→ user 04: oh my godddddd, i dropped the keys to my 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO, oh I'm so clumsy! (I'm 6'0 too) (and pretty funny)

⎯→ olliebearman: and i drive for ferrari, at 6'1, whilst cracking jokes

Ollie knows his worth, he knows he's a highly sought after man. But he's never felt more insecure than now, reading your comments filled with not just men but also girls?! He had to fight off both sides, which made him feel even more weary that his girlfriend is so desired.

So the only way for him to stop his insecurities was easy! Just fuck it out of his system, duh! So now, you're stuck bent over in doggy style in the shower. Why the shower? Because he knew he would make an absolute mess out of you.

He's pounding into you, making loud slaps against the walls. It echos throughout the entire bathroom. You're sure your neighbors can hear but there's not much you can do. You're stuck being a moaning mess while he's holding onto your hips for dear life.

As if that wasn't enough, he leaned forward to whisper into your ear. "Never, never again..." He says, breathing heavy from being so tired, yet his body was moving on his own. "No one can see you like this, ever."

Paul Aron | 17

yourusername: "angel?" set is out now! so proud to be part of the process for this🪽 i did, indeed, feel like an angel

→ user 01: mind you this is my first impression of you... and i'm following asap

⎯→ user 02: i was prepared to fight u for a second

→ user 03: LAWWDDD??? I COULD TAKE A BITE OUTTA UR ASS

⎯→ user 04: enough ass to feed a whole family of 5

→ user 05: paul... count your days

⎯→ paularon_: what did i do???

⎯→ user 06: u better worship the ground she walks on

⎯→ paularon_: of course i do, that's my whole purpose

→ user 07: perfect body, gorgeous face, hot ass boyfriend, GOD HAS FAVORITES

Oh he's livid. Not because you did the shoot, how could he blame you for simply looking good? He knew he picked a baddie and was ready to take all the repercussions alongside it. But he was livid because the fans were practically drooling over you. He's a possessive guy, it's basically his middle name.

He won't get off you at all, as if he needs you like air. His comment was a lie, he was worshipping you just like he should. Leaving hickies all over your neck, sucking on your breast, fingering you until you cummed at least twice. And he's not even done.

It's like he's trying his best to tease himself for as long as possible. You see how huge his dick is, how it's practically drowning in it's own precum. But he refuses to fuck you until he knows you're satisfied.

He's mainly doing this because he knows he's going to cum fast. Just from giving you pleasure makes him want to cum already. Being inside would only make him last one thrust, maybe two if he's lucky.

You're tired, fucked out from his fingers and sore from his hickies. But he simply kisses your cheek before bringing his head down to your cunt.

"N-No," you say, so overstimulated and wanting to see him get pleasure too. "Paul, just... Just f-fuck me already"

"Shhh" He says, not giving a single care for what you have to say. As he licks your cunt. You shiver from the touch, already knowing you're going to stuck in that bed for hours.

Pepe Marti | 21

yourusername: was i cold? 😣 yeah, but it was so worth it! loved working with the crew to take these breath-taking shots, i've never felt prettier 💌

→ user 01: oh. my. GOD??????? THE BODY

⎯→ user 02: seeing her without a 10lbs hoodie hiding her is so weird but SO GOOD

⎯→ user 03: literally thought this was an entirely different girl

→ user 03: i'm putting u in my heart locket

⎯→ user 04: literally going to print this out onto my wall

→ user 05: pepe is so so SO FUCKING lucky

→ pepemartiofficial: my beautiful girl 😘

Smut coming soon! So tired :”) I’m sorry! MWAH 🫶 Come back tomorrow !

[eccentricallygothic]

Apology Boy

Description: Paul finally apologizes for the scar(s) he gave you when he saw you for the first time. 

Pairing: Paul Lahote | Human mate!You.

Warning(s): Paul's anger, possible past angst, fluff, Paul is a crazed mess for you, size kink (duh), imprinting/mates, abo!verse but you're human, possessiveness, fingering, cunnilingus (worship), breeding kink, licking, biting, smut with plot because oh God I can never stop myself, teasing, pet names, unprotected p-in-v, overstimulation, manhandling, light dom!Paul because I am still me. MDNI.

Type: Request, for the sweet @wishyouloveme, here.

MASTERLIST

Just like any other day.

. . .

It hit Paul like a freight train and caused sweat to form in ice cold drops on his otherwise warm skin. He had just returned from patrol with Embry and was spread over Emily's dining table whilst stuffing his face with the food she had cooked for them. Everything was fine and dandy. It was a pleasant day and the weather was nice and cool. Soon, he would be done with his daily obligations and then he would go home.

But then Sam came up behind Emily who was standing next to her mate's seat at the head of the table, one hand on the frame and other on her hip as she listened to Seth drone on and on about something that Paul's voice refused to register due to what unfolded next.

The pack leader's strong arms snaked around the waist of his delicate lover as he nuzzled his nose into her hair until the tip had found its way past the dark strands and against her tender cheek until it was caressing and tracing the scars he had left on her. 

All blood drained from Paul's skin and something in his head clicked. His surroundings faded to a dim buzz and the next few moments went by in a blur. 

And then he was standing in front of home.

“Paul!” You yelp in surprise at the sight of your nude lover. He usually dresses himself at Sam's house after patrols before coming home to you. 

Since you are human and your initial experience with the pack had both been overwhelming -thanks to your lover imprinting on you the first chance he was given- and traumatizing -as said lover who was much worse at controlling his primal urges back then had lost control at the sight of you because he was so overcome with raw, foreign emotion he did not know how to process-, you prefer to keep by yourself near the outskirts of the community in a house that Paul had moved in with you upon your request. 

The pack life is simply too loud and… public for you; a city girl used to her secluded places and treasured privacy.

You notice that Paul is panting -which is very unlike him due to his superhuman strength- and a redness outlines his eyes when his huge form approaches yours. “Are you— Paul!” You gasp and nearly flinch from both the shock and impulse when he lets his heavy body collapse on its knees in front of you. “What the hell happen—” you never know with your hyper emotional mate.

His long fingers push your sweater up and out of his way so he can stroke the soft skin of your stomach with the tip of his nose, his head nuzzling into your chest as his dark eyes flutter close and he inhales a deep whiff of your scent. It is the only thing that never fails to calm your hot blooded lover down. 

“What's wrong?” Your voice lowers to a concerned mumble as you peer down at him, your fingers cradle the dusky skin of his handsome face -as much of it as you can reach- and your nails rake through the male's jet black mass of short hair. “Honey?” He only behaves like this if something went wrong or when he is in need of comfort, which are both rare occurrences as he is the usual caretaker in your relationship. But you aren't a complete stranger to him acting like this. 

Ever the uncommunicative one, the male only sighs— no, whimpers against your skin as if he's wounded and softly feels your skin with gentle caresses of his fingers. Words require thought, patience and wisdom. Unfortunately, Paul's instinctual mind runs too fast for those things to catch up with it in time and rash actions get carried out before better sense can supply him from its store.

“Paul…” A shiver runs down your spine when his lips that had begun to softly peck your navel find their way up your stomach before they halt to ghost over the healed, plum coloured lesions that stretch across your tender skin in menacing shapes akin to claw marks. “What are you doing?” Though he never mentions or discusses it verbally due to the guilt he feels, sometimes Paul becomes hyper aware of the scars of his unmediated passion that mar your skin and tries to make up for them in his own wordless ways.

Except, this only ever happens when you're underdressed or the two of you are indulging in activities typical to couples and the sight of them reminds him of their cause. He has never stormed into the house stark naked and marched up to you like an unreadable oversized pup on the brink of tears like this. 

“I am sorry.” You nearly jump due to how unexpected the sound of his words are. Usually he just sulks in silence. “Baby, I am so sorry” Paul never speaks when he is in one of these moods. Especially when he is experiencing bouts of guilt for his actions during his first encounter with you. “Oh, God” his body grows heavy against yours as he practically pushes his face into the crevices like he wants to become one with them and fill them back up to their original state with parts of himself. 

“Paul— oof!” Your smaller body yields to his weight and the ground slips from underneath your feet. “D- Did the guys say something?” You fear the worst as Paul's protective hands catch you before your back can hit the wooden ground and you cannot help but whimper from how his lips lock with the scars in thick, desperate and hurried apologetic kisses. 

Paul and his pack mates play rough and sometimes they go too far with the teasing. So though he clings to the tough guy act in front of them, he dismantles into you once he is home if their words ever get too far. Yes, the tussling and fighting is not enough if it's serious. And just sometimes, when it gets too much for him to bottle it up, he shares some of it with you. But most often not, since he knows how you feel about the pack and he does not like to worry you.

“I am sorry it has taken me this long to say it out loud, baby… but I am so sorr—”

“Paul, hey, look at me” but he refuses to detach himself from your skin in his shame, his big hands safely holding your whole body up against his. “You don't have to—” you cannot help it, you hate to see him like this when you know how badly he regrets it. You hate for him to hurt.

“But I do” he nearly growls against your skin, his fingers tightening on your hips to brace himself against the war in his head. “There’s not a day that goes by where I don't regret it.”

“But you didn't do it on purpose, baby” you sigh when he refuses to let you see him. Your fingers try to pry his stubborn face upwards. “And you worked and improved for us, didn't you, hm?” Your eyes earnestly search for his. “Don't sell yourself so short.” One of your hands rubs his tense shoulders to try and ease their guilt-stricken stiffness. 

“All the same” ever the stubborn knucklehead. “I should have done this a long time ago. But I was selfish and I was afraid that if I verbally mentioned it…” He hesitates and the love you behold for him renders you helpless against a burning urge to reassure him. 

“My love—”

“I was scared you'd get reminded of it and…” He takes a deep breath and then gulps down the bile in his throat, blinking back tears. “L- Leave me…” Paul's voice is barely a whisper and your heart breaks at how vulnerable he sounds. “And I am such an asshole for it because it had more to do with my fear of you leaving me than you reliving your trauma…” 

“Paul…” You blink and try to focus, but his warm gropes and caresses falter your steam of thought. 

“I love you, I really do, so much” he peeks up at you just a little, dark eyes frightened for the first time since the day he scarred you. “Please forgive me. I don't ever want to lose you. I know what I did was irreversible but I swear I'll spend the rest of my life fixing it… if you'll let me.” You shake your head. 

Does he really think there's an off chance that you will leave? 

“Paul” when you cup the side of his face, he hides into your stomach again. “Hey,” you try to duck your face closer to his. make him look at you. “Look at me” your intended request comes out an order due to all the emotions you feel. “I forgave you a long time ago. That's the reason why I am still here” you finally manage to place your forehead against his, making your breaths mingle with his. “I love you more, so much more.” He opens his mouth to drone so you beat him to it. 

“Now shut up and kiss me.”

Paul is taken aback at your demand, his widening eyes prove it. But as surprising as it may be for him, this isn't something that was unresolved for you until today -unlike him- so you aren't as overwhelmed with angst. Because your mate has proven his love, devotion and worthiness of you through his actions over the course of your relationship. He has shown you that he loves you and that he is sorry for what he did. 

If anything, his innocently intimate and lovestruck worship of your body has fired it up instead of making it sentimental. 

And so you want him. 

Bad.

“But—”

“No buts. Kiss me.” You are breathless as you urge him to do so, your hands try to pull his face closer into yours although in vain because his bigger and stronger form remains unbudging. 

Paul's eyes search yours for assurance. “... Yes, ma'am” he whispers once finds it and the next thing you know, you're being pounced down onto the floor with his arms cased around you to protect you from the impact. 

And though you always feared that him getting physical in this manner would trigger you, you giggle against his mouth that he drags across your chest and up your throat to clamp onto yours. Your arms circle around his broad shoulders and instead of trying to repel him -like you suspected you would despite having grown to trust him now- you pull him closer as you whimper into the tender yet hungry kiss, feeling your legs climb the lower half of his body instinctively.

“Paul~” you needily blabber against his tongue that he uses to enjoy the sweetness of your mouth, his balmy lips enveloping everything your mouth has to offer in tight, big kisses. “Mm~” your chest aches from the strain the lack of oxygen puts on your lungs but your sparking nether regions only scoot closer to his that you feel riling up against yours, your hips grinding against his and limbs tightening around his rock hard body.

“Mine” he growls against your mouth when he has no choice but to pull apart at last, his coarse fingers groping you in greedy handfuls while peeling away any fabric that hurdles their path to your skin. “All mine” you moan at the feeling of his teeth grazing against the tender skin of your boobs that he sprays with kisses and licks. “God, mouse, I love you so much” the strength he puts into pushing everything you wear on your upper body away from it leaves you breathless. You love the thrill you feel when his touch feels like he is on the horizons of the dangers he is capable of. When he is so worked up and desperate that he cannot help but get rough because your sweet sweat and arousing body heat fires him up the way it does. You are addicted to the sight of him not giving in to his beastly impulses despite all that because he loves you so much. It is scary, yes. But it turns you on too.

“I love you too, Paul” though he likes to act cocky and all-knowing most of the time, you know he needs to hear it too. Underneath all that knucklehead play fighting and manhandling of his, he needs reassurance just as much as the next person and though he tries not to burden you as his different lifestyle is hard enough for you as it is, you don't have to be part wolf to feel him and hear his heart. 

“You're so perfect…” The way he peppers wet kisses along your cheekbone whilst relieving you of the rest of your clothing causes for your eyes to flutter close to cherish the tingling feeling that sparks your body alight. “Just—” when you try to reach for him to also make it enjoyable for him, he plants your hands above your head and softens your confused pout with a kiss. “Just let me take care of you today, yeah? Don't worry about anything.” 

“But— oh!” He reaches for the mating mark that sits on the right side junction of your neck where a she-wolf's mating glad would be. And though you lack the physical features to feel him through it, the meaning that it holds for Paul serves as a bridge for the biological gap. “Oh…” You turn your head sideways to rub your cheek against his shaved one, your hips roll into his hand that dips between your legs and you shudder against Paul's hot tongue that drags across the impressions of his teeth that crevice your skin. 

“Taste so fuckin' sweet, baby” there is a strain in Paul's voice because of how much strength it is taking him to hold himself back from impaling you full of his cock right there. “So perfect” the lower half of his body leaps down so he can rub his bare erection against the softness of your leg. 

You moan at the feeling. “Paul,” you whisper into his hair, the feeling of his sharp teeth causing for slick to sizzle up to your entrance from the inside. He growls out a quiet yes, baby against the mark, one hand constantly caressing the dents running along the width of your stomach. “Don't hold back” you go to touch his rock hard cock and he grunts in denial, seizing your wrist in his fingers faster than you can blink. 

His face comes up to dominate your vision. “No, mouse, tonight is all about you” another kiss squishes out any protest you can form and when his invasive tongue has your nostrils flared from the breathlessness, Paul drags it down your writhing body in the company of heavy pecks until his mouth is between your thighs and he is propping one up with a broad shoulder and the other with his hand that isn't occupied with caressing the evidence of his temper. 

“Paul—!” He knows how shy you get when he is between your legs like this. 

But it's not his fault you taste so fulfilling. 

“Sh, little mouse, you're perfect” he kisses any and all insecurities away with gentle kisses, the hand that cases one of your thighs stroking the tender inside with its thumb. “And you taste so good too” he takes his time worshiping your pelvis, deliberately leaving out your pussy to save the best for last. And though you pretend to disapprove and whine for him to come back up and just fuck you instead, his soft kisses that vibrate into your skin every time he moans at the feeling of your nether skin touching his slightly chapped lips, you find yourself helplessly crying out for more at the end. 

“Paul, please!” You feel his mouth twist into a smirk and your hands dart to finger his thick hair to withstand the sensation of his mouth hovering over your petals. 

“Please what, mouse?” You roll your eyes at the taunt in his voice. 

“Please touch me!” Your fingers impatiently tug at his short strands and he grins.

“Oh, mouse, but I am touching you” you whine and his shoulders vibrate under your knees from his devilish mirth. 

“Y- You know what I mean!” Though your cheeks are already aflush, you feel new heat seep underneath the layers of the reddened skin. 

“Mmm, but I thought you wanted me to—”

“Paul!” You desperately whine and he lets out a deep cackle.

“Fine, geez” he is so mean when he gets smug. You go to scowl down at him but he takes the mound between your legs in a deep handful and feels the slit between your petals in a vertical caress of his thumb before you do and you end up letting out a loud moan instead. “Needy much?” You bite your lip and wantonly roll your hips closer to his mouth. “Tsk, tsk. Impatient little mouse…” The tip of his digit presses between your nether lips that are dusted with pearly discharges of your arousal and a cherry red flush and your hips buck in anticipation. “You're lucky that you're so pretty and I like you so much…” Your spine trembles in your skin when you feel the coarse skin of his thumb against your ultrasensitive folds. “Because I typically don't appreciate things so small ordering me around…” Your back arches when he finally sticks the hot tip of his tongue between your nether lips.

“Oh…” You feel your toes curl. “More, please, Paul, more.”

He is so enchanted by your sweet scent and addictive taste that he is ignorant to anything that isn't your body. “But you, my dear mouse, you're something else…” His strong hands take your ass in them and he firmly kneads the plump skin, talking pretty much over you with a lust-drunken madness. You mewl out a moan at the feeling and Paul growls at the sound you make, pulling you closer to his mouth as he presses an open kiss to your pussy. “Fuck,” he groans and licks his lips that glisten from your slick, his own tip leaking at the taste of you. “I've never tasted anything like you before and I sure as hell am never gonna get tired of it.” 

“Paul!” you cry out when his tongue twirls against your entrance, his nose rubbing against your clit to caress it with the tip as he begins to eat you out.

His growl that vibrates your soaked folds to a buzzing life causes your eyes to roll to the back of your head. “Paul” you moan breathlessly, his name turning to a prayer as you tremble on the verge of releasing more slick.

“Gimme that sweet cum, baby, let me taste it” your lips part and you can't help but arch into his mouth with need. His hands are merciless, the one on your ass kneads it with rough gropes as the other massages the underside of your thighs in broad, determined strokes. You moan and writhe against him, your vision blurring at the hot waves that take over your body.

“I am gonna— oh, Paul!” He moans against you as you tremble and then release more even slick into his mouth. His tongue is in heaven as he greedily licks up all he can get. 

“Fucking hell, baby” the grainy tip of his tongue pokes and prods at your entrance, working the little hole open. “I can't wait to stuff this pretty little pussy full of my pups.” 

“Mmm, oh fuck, Paul, oh fuuuck” when he finally penetrates the tight barrier and his hot tongue invades your sensitive cavern, the burning knot between your hips gets tighter. Paul moans at the feeling of your delicate walls and though the vibrations of his doing so shakes you to your core, you cannot help but greedily wrap your legs around his head to both stay in place and withstand the pleasure.

“Oh, God, Paul, ’m so close!” Your voice is a breathless mewl and he growls at the vulnerable sound, his cock hurting from need. “Oh, fuck” you tremble so badly that you'd collapse into the ground if your knees weren't propped up by your mate's shoulders. “Oh fuck, oh fuck” Paul’s jaw flexes against your thighs when he begins to fuck you with his tongue, one hand fumbling for your cunt before he tickles the hood with his thumb. Your back arches and you clench your eyes shut, your chest heaving as you gasp out his name.

“Tsk, tsk, mouse” his hot breath fans your sensitive folds and you can't help but whimper at the feeling of his middle finger replacing his tongue. “You need to relax.” His hand that holds your ass pats your cheek in an endearing yet condescending way and your whole body tenses up at the touch even more. “I'm gonna take care of you, baby” you cannot help but rock your hips to his finger stretching your insides out against it. “You're mine and I'll never let you get hurt again, I promise” he croons before pressing a tender kiss to your clitorial nub. “You know that, right?” He kisses the slick covered inside of your thigh next to soothe your shaking body. “Tell me you know you're mine” his possessive words make the heat between your legs to go haywire.

“I am yours, Paul” you breathlessly promise him before letting out a moan when he tickles your folds with his tongue in a praising manner, satisfaction breaking out on his handsome face at your obedience.

“Good mouse” he begins to lap at your nub and your walls tense around his finger as a result, causing for your slick to slosh from the opening and down Paul's hand. “Shh, mouse, easy now” he cooes to get you to relax because of how tightly you are clenching yourself and it only gets worse when he adds a second finger. Your hips are so tight. You are on the edge. “You're gonna let me take care of this cute little pussy, aren't you?” You whimper at the feeling of being stuffed full and being licked at the same time.

“Y- Yes, Paul!” The air is heavy with the smell of slick and the sound of him slurping your juices up.

He adds a third finger and you nearly burst into tears from the pleasure. “Oh God, Paul, I am gonna cum!” Your entrance burns from the stretch and you moan from the bittersweet discomfort. “Please, lemme cum! Wanna cum so bad! Please, please!” Your submissive side comes out because of how overwhelmed you are and Paul can cum from the fragility of your voice right here.

“Hold it for me, mouse, good girl, c'mon” you sob at his cruel denial and he closes his lips around a mouthful of your folds, soundfully sucking at the clammy skin as he speeds his hand up to practically hammer your trembling pussy into an orgasm. Your toes curl and you throw your head back, fingers tugging at his hair as you tremble violently against him. Your back arches from how his free hand pinches and twists your nipples, softly landing occasional smacks to your boobs. “Good girl. I know you can take it” his hand then comes down to massage your ass cheek to make for a better stretch. “Relax, baby” you sob out his name and he smiles against your quivering core, his cheek gently caressing the inside of your thigh to get you to loosen up a little because you are clenching so hard.

“You're doing good, mouse. So good” his lips buzz against your clit. “Take it, baby, take it” your walls twitch against his coarse digits. “That's a good girl” he praises you while continuing to stuff your pussy with his fingers, the feeling of being filled up to the brim causing for you to shake and tremble violently. “That's my good girl” his tongue licks your clit as his fingers curve inside of you to search for your sensitive bundle of nerves that always makes you let out the sweetest of melodies.

“I'm gonna— I can't anymore, Paul!” Neon shapes cloud your vision when his fingers graze your sensitive spot and he growls at the feeling of your walls convulsing around his fingers.

“Yeah, baby. You can cum now” he finally relents and you cry out from the joy. “My little mouse, give me that sweet cum” his mouth never stops moving against you and you are so overcome with emotion that you are not sure if the tears that are streaming down your cheeks are due to pleasure or pain. “Gimme it, mouse. Gimme it” his tongue is like a beast that eats you up to satiate its starvation. You cry out his name from the pleasure.

“Paul! Paul, Paul— oh god!” The tongue is too much, though it gives you everything you could ask for at the moment, you need to escape. But when you try to pull away Paul catches your hips and holds you in place. 

“Now, where do you think you're going, little mouse?” There is a beastliness to his voice.

“N- No, Paul! No more—” you don't get to finish your plea because his mouth clamps down on your sensitive flesh to suckle on it in big, eager kisses again and your heart threatens to burst through your chest.

“Oh fuck” the knot between your legs tightens so hard you cannot maintain it anymore. Vertigo breaks through your hearing. “Oh— Paul!” The orgasm takes over your whole body, your mind blurs from the burst of sensation that courses through your blood and everything turns into a euphoric mess. “O- Oh God…” You tremble from the aftershock and Paul groans when he feels you squirt. He releases your hips and you fall back onto the floor, your body too weak to withstand its own weight. “O- Oh fuck…” You're breathless and your body feels like jelly. “Paul, oh Paul…” Your fingers desperately try to reach for him like you're no older than a baby and you notice that he is stroking his hurting cock because of the need to bury his knot in you, a pained expression etched across his face. “P- Paul, I am ready” though you can barely speak, your body shakes from the need to be filled up by him.

“Mouse… are you sure?” Though his voice strains from the painful need, he prioritizes your comfort over his and your heart wells up.

“Y- Yes” you try to sit up. “Fill me up, please” he needs no more encouragement after that. With a low growl, he jumps onto you and you feel the tip of his cock press against your entrance in a heated caress that makes you whine, your body even forgetting to yelp from how he pounces on you. 

“I'll never hurt you again, mouse” he whispers into your ear as he buries his nose into your hair, cock throbbing between your legs. You gasp when he enters you in a quick thrust that makes for all the air to bolt out of your lungs. “I promise.” You tremble in his hold and Paul groans at the feeling.

“I know” his mouth clamps down on the mating mark upon hearing your whisper and he slowly stretches your pussy to fit around his erection that even after all that fingering is still too big for your tiny cunt. The overstimulation causes for stars to form in your vision. His cock twitches inside you and he growls, the tip of his tongue tickling your nape in need.

“That's a good girl, baby” the hand that cups the side of your face tenderly strokes your cheek. “Relax for me” when your walls finally adjust to his log-like girth, Paul grins against the mating mark. “You're doing so good for me” the thrust of his hips causes for his cock to rub against your sensitive spot and your eyes roll to the back of your head with the feeling. “There's my good girl. You take my cock so well.” He releases his bite, hips pistoning up and down between your legs as he baby talks to you and strokes your hair to comfort you against the overstimulation that makes you whine.

“Paul!” You tremble as he fucks you in slow, long strokes and you cannot help but cry out his name in need.

“I'm here, baby. I got you” he murmurs into your hair and you moan at the baritone of his voice. “Take this cock, baby, you got it” he pants as his fat cock slides in and out of you. Then he suddenly grunts and readjusts you in his hold because the position is not comfortable enough for you and he can feel it. “God, you're so perfect.”

“I love you, Paul” you murmur into his ear, your hips lazily rolling against his as you hold him tight. 

“I love you more” the latter part of his sentence turns into a growl due to his struggle with the positioning and he collects your limp form in his. “And I can do this better” though he roughly pushes your bodies off the floor to head for the bedroom, his fingers subconsciously caress your back in gentle strokes to make up for how your bare skin rubbed into the floor during the ordeal. You whine from how his heavy sack puts a strain on your entrance where your bodies connect as he does so. He cooes praise and reassurance in your ear as comfort, peppering your mouth with gentle kisses.

.

The next morning when he leaves for patrol in a black tank top and some shorts, there is a shy grin on his face as he looks back at the door one last time to wave you goodbye. You blush and return the gesture, biting your lip like it's the morning after your first time with each other. 

“Geez, man, not the dreamy eyes!” A groan sounds from somewhere in the woods and you gasp before ducking behind the door. Chuckles and howls follow. 

The jerk brigade has arrived.

“Someone get these two a room!” You recognize Jake's voice and shake your head as you peek outside from behind your shield. “Oh, wait, they did that already!” You cannot help but snort when you see that Paul has begun to jog in the direction of the voices. “In light of how the whole town learnt all the ways in which Paul's name can be moaned last night” uh, oh. That's not going to be good. Your lover is very private and sensitive about you as it is and when someone tries to pry or joke about matters of this sort he does not appreciate it. Especially if it's his hormonal friends that he knows too well. “Paul, Paul, oh, Paul!” Your cheeks burn in embarrassment and Paul snarls before he flings his shirt off and jumps into the air, transforming into his beastly form midway and disappearing into the woods to attack the offendor.

You see the great trees shake from the tussle that you can practically visualize behind them and the encouraging howls of Paul's pack mates further confirms it. They love to get a rise out of your easily excitable boyfriend and he loves to put them in their place, being the strongest after Sam. Their crossing of each other's boundaries for the sake of fun used to concern you in the beginning but Paul himself assured you that that was just how they played and it was not coming from a bad place. 

So you wait for the ferocious crowd to move further away into the jungle that surrounds your house before you walk down to the dirt road to collect his clothing with a lighthearted shake of your head. A smile graces your lips as you do so and you cannot help but graze the now covered scars that your superhuman lover gave all his love to last night.  

Though it will be a while before he does, you cannot wait for him to come back home to you.

. . .

I am sorry if it sucks omg I really hope you like it <3

[spidercookie18]

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑪𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝒖𝒏 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑪𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝑯𝒊𝒅𝒆

The Lost Boys 1987 AU set in modern time. None of the boys died, and all the Emersons/Star/Laddie/Frog brothers are vampires. This is explained later…

Tags: Biting, smut, oral, mutual masturbation, creampies, choking, degradation, praise, slightly possessive partner, mentions of blood, general violence, use of y/n, afab, use of she/her. Warnings: This chapter is basically mostly porn, barely plot. MINORS DNI Summary: David returns from his rampage. The fleeting feeling of rage leaving an emptiness in him that only bonding can fix. Word Count: 7k ish Previous chapter here: Next chapter here:

“No one should suffer what I suffered. I still dread those scenes when man killed man. I lost my parents, most of my family, by running away.” — Milkha Singh

Chapter Six

David stumbled down into the cave, his spurs jangling as he walked. He groaned, his belly too full of blood and liquor. His boots scraped along the ground as he walked, too drunk to care to walk properly.

As he made his way into the cave, he saw Dwayne sat up in Paul’s beanbag chair, reading a book. He was keeping Paul company as he worked on his art project in the early hours; more waiting up for David than anything else.

The sound of bones clunking down to the ground echoed softly. Paul was determined to get the right look without duct tape ruining his vision. David looked over to the roost. Marko had already gone to bed; tuckered out from his excursion with the two of you earlier that night.

David stood halfway between the roost and Paul’s alcove; he swayed in his boots. The thought of hanging upside down made his stomach churn.

He walked over to where Dwayne and Paul were, and drunkenly pulled a beer can from the plastic six-pack rings. He burped and handed the few remaining cans to the brunette. Dwayne looked up at David, an uneasy feeling crossed his mind. He wanted to ask how he was doing, but the blood and sweat that ran slowly down his brother’s face warned against that. So, he took the cans from David, a half grin across his face, and set them down between himself and Paul.

From the corner of his eye, Paul quietly watched David.  He was dumb, but he wasn’t stupid, a snide remark to David right now would surely end in Paul finding out what his teeth tasted like. He just hummed quietly and pretended not to notice his ornery brother.

David popped the tab on the can, the hiss was louder than it should have been over the uneasy silence in the air. He swayed a little bit more before turning towards where you were, stumbling over the weight of his own feet as he clumsily pulled the curtain back. The liquid in his belly and the can sloshed around as he moved, the droplets of beer staining the ground and David’s glove as it flowed. He stood over you and watched as your chest rose and fell with your breath. He watched your silent, sleeping form for a moment, your stillness bringing a smile to his face.

David turned his pocket out and the shells he picked up tumbled to the ground by his boots. You heard the shuffling and clinking on the ground by the bed and stirred from your sleep.

“Mmm, David?” Your eyes sleepily fluttered open, just enough to make out who it was. You smiled up at him and your soft hand reached out to his own.

You let your eyes close shut and gently closed your fingers around his gloved hand, inviting him to stay with you in the bed.

He sat down on the mattress next to you and began to take off his boots. With the tip of his right boot, he pushed against the heel of his left, the boot came off with a thud.  He tried the same with his other foot, but his sock just slid down against the heel; he had to lean down to pull the other off, and he spilled the rest of the beer as he did so. David grumbled and let the can fall to the ground with a clank and a rattle as it rolled away.

Maybe I overdid it, he thought as he felt the burp in his throat come up with an acidic liquid. He swallowed hard and fought back the urge to throw up. Luckily, vampires didn’t stay drunk long, but he’d have to ride it out till then. David sat up and took a deep breath, he let his head fall back and his eyes close.

Why couldn’t anything just be easy for him?

Even in life everything was hard; and now, in eternal unlife, everything was more confusing.

He sighed and looked down at you. His dead heart ached watching his sleeping mate. He wanted nothing more than to be with you, for you to be with him, forever. He felt the ache in his bones, in his being; wherever his soul had gone, he was sure the ache was there too. You squeezed his hand in yours, and he smiled down at you. He brushed some hair from your face and leaned down to kiss your cheek.

You groaned, “David, you smell like blood,” crinkling your nose you pulled away from him.

He smiled against your skin, “yeah?”

You nodded groggily, “mhm…and beer,” you rubbed your eyes, “where did you go?” His appearance shocked you; he looked like he waged a war… against himself. You sat up next to him and pulled the blanket around your shoulders. “David?” the worry in your voice asked everything you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

“I’m fine sweet thing,” he slurred, “you should see the other guys,” he chuckled, trying to ease your nerves.

“Oh, David…” you licked your thumb and tried to wipe the blood off his cheeks.

“Sweetness, I’m FINE,” he jerked his head away from you. David grabbed your wrist and held your hand away from his face.

Your sweet smile faded. You pulled your arm from his grasp and pulled the blanket closed around you. He was going to open his mouth to say something, but you shut him up. You put your hand in his face to keep him from getting up to follow you, “STAY.”

David scoffed, “excuse you?”

“I said, STAY, David.”

He bit at the air, warning you that he was annoyed. David watched as you stood and walked over to where your bag was on the floor. The blanket clinging to your body as you moved. You pulled out a bottle of water and twisted the cap off. You picked your shirt off the ground and poured some water on the sleeve.

You walked back to him and placed your hand on his nape. “Don’t move,” you warned, and dabbed the wet cloth along his cheek. He nipped at your hand.

You stared at him, eyes narrowing. “Don’t make me gag you,” you scolded.

David raised his eyebrow at the thought, and you wiped down his neck, trying to clean as much blood off him as possible.

He tried to pull away from you, but you held him firmly by the back of his head, “you don’t have to baby me…” he grumbled.

You looked down at his hands and noticed the splatters of blood that came up from under his leather gloves. You slowly, and delicately pulled them off his hands, and turned the shirt over to start cleaning his knuckles with a fresh part of the cloth. You picked his hand up in both of yours, he hadn’t realized until then how small you actually were compared to him, and his hands. He smiled drunkenly at this.

You guessed at some point he took his gloves off to fight, but you weren’t sure why. You swiped the wet cloth gently against the back of his hands and knuckles and he hissed lightly. His knuckles were split, you were sure it was painful to the touch, but he needed to be cleaned. The cloth let out a squish as you squeezed it to get more of the water on his hands.

You could hear him growling now. “I’m not babying you,” you said gently as you wiped the dried blood off him. “I’m loving you…” you turned his hand over and wiped the dirt and blood from his palm. He stared at you in awe, he didn’t know what to make of you cleaning him off, but this certainly wasn’t the first thing that came to his mind.

David was used to licking his wounds for himself and his brothers, hell, sometimes they did it for him; but this felt different. It was much gentler, much more… human. There was something about the way you gingerly held his hands that made him feel odd; not weak, but incredibly strong.

He felt powerful watching you clean the blood off him, taking special care to make sure he was okay. You moved to his other hand and looked back up at him, his eyes watched you intently.

You smiled and went back to cleaning his knuckles, “you really did a number on someone, huh?” The backs of his hands were deep red, especially around his knuckles where they were cut up. The bones in his hand must have been broken earlier in the night, and the skin was already beginning to bruise green in some spots; one of the perks of being a vampire you thought, fast healing.

He chuckled, “it was just some assholes, no big deal.”

“Did ya have fun?”

“Mhm,” he hummed softly.

“That’s good, I’m glad you’re okay….” You smiled down at him, and he turned to hide his drunk blush. “I should take you on one of my hunts next time,” you giggled.

You tossed the bloodied shirt to the ground, and you turned David’s hand over, you kissed his palm, and he cupped your face in his hand. He could have sworn he felt his heart beating quick at that moment. He loved how sweet you looked, how kind you were, how happy you made him in that moment. You put your hand on his cheek and kissed his forehead, he winked up at you.

This new feeling felt like warm blood flowing through his veins, it excited him. He pulled your face to his and kissed you gently. You felt warm against his lips, and he felt cold against yours. You pulled slowly from the kiss and held him, his ear falling against your chest. David loved listening to your heartbeat. If his belly wasn’t so full of blood at this moment, he'd want to taste yours. He nuzzled his face against your breasts, you felt so soft, and good against his cheek.

David wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer, “oh sweet thing,” he kissed up your skin, “I missed you.”

He heard the laugh come from your belly, “David, you were gone for only a few hours, it’s not even morning yet.”

“And I missed you every second,” he moved the blanket aside so he could kiss down your shoulder.

“Dork,” you laughed at him.

“M’ignoring that,” he nipped at your flesh, “I want you again,” he whispered. He licked along your exposed skin and let his teeth graze ever so lightly against you.

“Oh, David…” you whimpered.

He loved when you moaned for him, he loved more how good you made his name sound.

“I’m still sensitive from earlier,” you protested, only half-heartedly.

“Don’t worry sweet thing, I can fix that,” he drunkenly kissed further down your arm, then down your hand. His tongue lapping at the wet blood on your fingers and palm. It was an odd feeling, but it made the warmth pool in your belly.

A small moan came from your lips, “but Daavid, I’m so sooore,” you whined.

“I’ll be gentle my sweetness,” he turned your palm over and kissed it eagerly. His beautiful blue eyes looking woefully up at you.

You could smell the alcohol on his breath, and the iron from the blood on his coats. You weren’t entirely sure you could trust his word at this moment, when he said he would be able to control himself. Maybe you didn’t do your best to close yourself off to him as the sleep still crept through your bones, maybe you just had a look on your face that said what you meant, but he read it.

“Y/N,” David spoke softly, he placed his hand under your jaw and brought your gaze to his. “I promise I’ll be gentle… d’you trust me?”

His words made a blush come up through your chest and cheeks, it was like a fire under your skin. Your heart raced and the ache in your loins turned into lust as you stared at him.

Oh David…

David giggled, “you even make that sound good from your mind.” His grin was devious, his toothy smile made you nervous; and more importantly, it made you excited.

You nodded meekly and bit your lip; you were sure he could smell your want again. David kissed your open palm, “tell me what you want, my sweet thing.” Your eyebrows furrowed, the pathetic look on your face made David’s pants tight. “Well sweetheart?” David kissed your palm again, the blue in his eyes turning amber around his pupil.

“I…I want…” your eyes flickered from his gaze to his lips, your hands gripping his coat gently, “I want you to love me.”

David stared up at you. He stood, his expression softening, “Y/N, of course I love you…” He put his hand back on your cheek and pulled you to his face. He let his forehead come to yours, nose to nose, “you’re my mate,” he spoke softly against your lips, “you’re mine. I’ll always love you.” David kissed you, deeply. Holding you in his arms as you let your body relax and fall fully into the kiss.

“Even if you try to run away,” he joked.

“Shut up,” you snorted.

Vampires bonded through various ways, feeding on each other, fighting each other, and fucking each other. It wasn’t just a simple act as it was for humans, it was more complex, more intense, it bonded them more than emotionally or physically. It was a spiritual connection; it was deep and life giving. For vampires, it was a way to protect and nourish their kinships. So, when the boys pawed at their partners, it wasn’t purely out of lust, it was also a yearning for intimacy beyond human comprehension.

He laid you back down on the bed, and you let the blanket come off your shoulders. He slowly pulled it off of you and growled excitedly as your body was exposed to him. He bit his lip and began kissing down your stomach. He let his hands trail along your soft, warm body, savoring every inch of you.

“Ohh darlin’”, the southern drawl coming out lightly, he licked his tongue out at your naval, and let it drag as he trailed down towards your love.

David put his hands under your thighs, his thumbs on the inner part and pushed your legs open. He loved the way you blushed when he did that, you would probably never stop being embarrassed at the hungry look he gave you. He kept his eyes trained on your gaze as he kissed your thighs.

David relished the look on your face; the soft red blush in your parted lips, your lidded eyes, the way your brows scrunched up in anticipation, the pretty gasps that came from you as you panted. He left soft nibbles and licks as he made his way from one leg to the next.

His nails gripped into your skin as he pushed your legs further apart. You squeaked at the feeling.

David eased his grip; it was going to be hard not to ravage you the way he wanted, when he had just promised to behave. He kissed gently up towards your weeping cunt in an apologetic hum. His eyes locked onto yours and he gave a cute grin as he waggled his tongue out at you, hovering ever slightly above your mound.

That devious look on his face, he was cute when he wanted to be, and you clenched in anticipation for him. As you watched his tongue loll out it changed, it turned from a normal human tongue into a long, slender, forked one. It worried you, how foreign it looked. You gulped and he chuckled. He let his tongue graze against your slit, tasting your love. You whimpered at the gentle feeling, and he pushed his cool tongue deeper into your folds.

You felt his tongue flick inside of you, “fuck,” you breathed out.

He lapped up your love as it flowed, pressing his forked tongue against your walls. It twisted and wiggled inside you, much deeper than you would have expected it to go. He tasted your arousal on his tongue, and his eyes rolled back in drunken bliss. As he kept licking you, he tasted his come, it made him smile a bit…then he tasted Marko’s. That annoyed him. He thought his come had pushed out all of Marko’s, sadly, it had not. So, he decided to lap the rest of it out while he was prepping you for his cock. His tongue pressed hard into your walls, you could feel it writhing over your ridges as he coiled it in and out.

“David!” You wailed.

He snaked his hands under your thighs and grabbed your hips, keeping you in place. His eyes watching your hips buck up against his hold, and your hands grip at his hair. He kept the tip of his tongue wriggling inside you while he pulled slowly out, the back of his tongue sliding up towards your clit. He bobbed his head up and down gently to let the back of his tongue rub against your nub. David kept the bulk of it inside you, savoring you, your taste, and your moans.

You tried to keep your legs open, but the pleasure that he was giving you made it hard, your thighs started clamping around his head. “Ohh please don’t stop!” You begged him to give you what you wanted most. He hummed with his tongue inside of you, pleased at your desperate reactions.

David twisted his tongue inside you, he loved the way you tasted; his eyes rolled up in his skull as he lavished your warm wet cunt squeezing against his tongue. He pushed more of his wriggling muscle further into you, and lapped the tip against your cervix; the forked edges creating a pressure that was new to you. You squirmed against his hold, and he pushed the length of his tongue back against your gummy walls. He angled the thick part of his tongue upwards against your sweet spot. You bucked against his mouth, “fuck, David! I’m almost there!” He smiled against your cunt with his tongue inside you, he pulled the back of his tongue out again to fold it up against your clit. His tip pushed against your sweet spot and the rough back part of his wet tongue rubbed against your nub.

He moved the back of his tongue quickly against your clit. You felt the knot in your stomach snap, and you spasmed around him. You screamed and bucked your hips against his mouth, your hands gripping into his hair and your thighs squeezed around his head. “Daaaavid!” You moaned his name as you spasmed around him. He lapped up your come as you finished bucking against him. The moans and squeals that came from you sounded so loud in your ears, and you could barely hear anything else over it.

You felt your vision go dark; he knew just how to make you come undone for him. He relished in pushing you over the edge, he loved more how you squeezed around him, whether it was his cock, his fingers, or his tongue.

David let his tongue lap up the last bit of your love and slowly pulled out from your warmth, when he smiled up at you his tongue was ‘normal’ again. “Fuck,” you panted out and let your arms cover your flushed face. David started kissing atop your mound and his fingers rubbed your hips gently, you could feel him smiling into your skin. He let you stay laying on your back with your arms covering your face, you needed to catch your breath after all, and watching you like that stroked his ego something fierce.

Your chest rose and fell sharply; you tried to slow it to calm yourself, but something startled you before you could. You felt David grip your hips and pull you diagonally in the bed, he was hissing loudly now. When you looked up, he was crouched over your lower half, growling at something behind the curtain.

You looked over, Dwayne and Paul were watching the show, and you laughed, “how long have y’all been standing there?” The boys shifted their stance from one leg to the other, too nervous to look at you; they were eyeing David, who was still growling. His possessive stance over your body a clear indication he had no plans of sharing you this time.

Paul was the first to speak, “Can we-”

“No.” David said, in a low, firm tone.

“We just wanted to watch…” Dwayne spoke softly. Normally the boys had no problem challenging David for a piece, but he was serious this time.

“You can watch from over there,” David said as he licked at your thighs.

He didn’t mind an audience; he was used to the boys being around all the time, but he wanted you solely to himself this tonight. You stared at David, and he watched as the boys sit on the other side of the curtain. Paul took no time to spread his legs out and start rubbing himself through his jeans.

David turned back to you, his expression one of annoyance. You smiled down at him to reassure him that they wouldn’t be a bother and reached your arms out to him. Your fingers grasping at the air, calling him to you. He crawled over your body and his knee rested between your legs, one of his arms snaking behind your head to pull you into a kiss. You moaned into his mouth.

You could taste yourself on his lips, and you smiled. David moaned softly into the kiss. Your body was on fire, you had been ravaged earlier and were still covered in bruises and bites, but the licking David had just done on your lower half made the pain turn into pleasure. Whatever David did down there had taken all the ache away and made you grind your hips into his thigh.

“Oh darlin, you’re so needy for me,” David smiled into the kiss. You could feel his hand move from behind your head to grip your chin. He lapped at your tongue then slowly began to pepper kisses down your jaw and neck. His other hand came up to knead your breast, David pulled away from you and looked over your body. “Oh sweetness,” his thumb came to rub over one of the bite marks the curly haired blond made on your plush mounds. “Marko really did a number on ya didn’t he?” His cool thumb soothing the sting of the deep purple bruise.

“Mmhm,” you nodded softly, eyebrows scrunched up with a whine.

“Damn shame,” David clicked his tongue in his mouth, he started licking at the various bite marks across your chest, neck, and shoulders. His tongue felt wet, and slick as it moved across your skin. The dark marks starting to fade to light purple, then vanished before your eyes. David looked up at you, slowly pushing himself up on his arms, a satisfied look on his face,” there we go.”

You smiled up at David, his knee pushing slowly up to crotch. He could feel your wet arousal through his pant.

“David,” you whispered, sitting up on your elbows to look at him.

“Ah-ah,” David pushed you back down on the bed, “I’m not done with you.” His hand came up around your throat and gently pressed you into the mattress. “I’m not gonna let Marko outshine me,” a deep chuckle left his throat. You couldn’t see him very well from where you were being held on the bed, and you squirmed under his hold. You could hear the wet of his mouth as he opened it, still chuckling, his mouth came down to your side by your ribs and bit down.

You screamed, his bite was painful, but not enough to make you bleed.

He gently clamped down to make sure the mark was nice and deep, and after a second, he pulled away to admire his work. “Heh,” he smiled, and leaned back down to put another bite on your breast. His teeth came down around your areola, and you could feel him lick and suck your nipple as he bit.

You mewled and fidgeted against his hold. Your pulse thumping beautifully against his ungloved hand. “David!” You bucked wildly against his thigh, trying to get some release.

He half growled; half chuckled against your flesh as he twirled his tongue around your stiff peak. David unclamped from you and looked up, still lapping at your breast. “Y’all right darlin?” He relaxed his hold around your throat.

You nodded weakly and gasped for air.

“Need more,” you whined. His fingers and tongue felt wonderful, but you wanted his girth more than anything. Rutting your hips against his thigh was not enough, “please,” you begged.

David groaned; looking down at you in this pathetic state, eyes glossed over, whiney, panting, pawing at his arms, grinding against him. He loved how much you wanted him. How you mewled under his tough, begged for him, came undone for him, how pliable and fuckable you were, he loved that in his mates. “Sorry darlin, I can’t hear you, what was that?” He leaned down, hand to his ear, amused by his own antics.

You mewled, embarrassed that he was going to make you beg in front of the others. Your eyebrows scrunched up, and you half turned to look at the two vampires sitting on the floor, rubbing themselves through their jeans, when one of them rustled their belt buckle.  Your cheeks flushed a deep red and you gulped against David’s hold. You could feel him squeeze gently on your throat.

The vampire above you spoke, not looking at the others, he licked his lips, “you two can either leave, or you can shut up.” David hissed; that was the last time he’d let them interrupt you two without getting violent.

Dwayne looked over at Paul and scowled, he would be damned if he had to leave because Paul couldn’t get comfortable in silence. Dwayne nipped at the wild hair blond as he pushed his jeans further down, not making a noise. They exchanged looks, and Paul continued to undress while holding his belt buckle in one hand.

David squeezed your throat to drag your attention back to him, his thumb rubbing over one of your veins. He pressed his nose to the underside of your jaw and took a long deep inhale of your scent, “keep your attention on me, y/n.” His claws digging lightly into your neck, “I won’t say it again.” A gold ringlet flashed through the blue of his eyes, then was quickly gone.

“M’sorry David,” you could feel the tears prick the sides of your eyes. You started gasping against your lovers hold. Your hands instinctively shot up to paw around his wrist when his grip tightened again. You wanted to push him away, but with the last bit of strength, you kept yourself from doing so, worried at the punishment he would think up if you did. Your nails gripped lightly into his jacket, and he pressed his knee up into your cunt.

“I’m still waitin’, darlin’.” His tongue licked under your jaw.

“I… need…” You breathed out, you could feel your heartbeat quicken. “David…pleas-” the edges of your vision started to go fuzzy, and David eased his hold on you. You gasped against the vampire’s grip, “please David, I need you.”

He growled against your skin, and you could feel him smiling as he peppered kisses down your neck. His fingers danced across your hips, and he licked the pulsing vein on your throat. The cool wet muscle flexing across your skin.

His belly no longer cramped with blood and liquor, now he wanted to be full of you. His greedy hands scratching up your stomach and down your thighs. He eagerly undid his belt while he continued to bite marks into your neck and chest.

He fumbled with the leather as you mewled under him. You arched your back to let him bite further into your skin, loving the way the marks looked on you. Like badges of love, you wore with pride as he claimed you. David finally managed to get his belt off, and his pants down, and he quickly held himself around the base to stroke himself on your slit. He thumbed over his tip and angled himself to rub through your lips.

David gently thrusted up through your slick folds, the underside of his tip kissing your clit as he rubbed past it. You could hear the wet sucking noises as he slowly dragged himself along your cunt. “F-fuck,” you bit your lip to keep from moaning and gently rutted your hips against his length.

He chuckled at your reaction, how easily you melted for him. How adorable you looked trying to get some release from his freed cock. “You like that y/n?”

You nodded, panting so hard you could almost see your breath in the cool night air.

“You want more?” David asked, teasing himself through your folds and over your clit again.

“Yes,” you whimpered, and David eagerly slipped into your warmth. Your breath hickuped in your throat as he pressed into your heat.

His length stretched you so good. Your mind went hazy as he slowly inched himself through your warm, gummy walls. It probably didn’t matter how many times he took you, you thought, it would always be a feat to take him.

David groaned atop you, his fingers gripping around your waist as he gently thrusted himself further into you.

“Ohh, wow,” you gasped out, eyes rolling back.  

David chuckled. “You ok?” He asked, looking over you, calm enough now to have his bearings.

“Mmhm,” you nodded, your breathless moans echoing in the ears of the other boys that sat nearby.

To say they were envious would be a gross understatement. Damn him, they thought. He was being too covetous of his new mate, but in the back of their minds they still knew better than to try something. So, they sat in their jealousy on the floor and rubbed their painful erections. Their own hands not being enough to satisfy the lust that filled them from your mere mewling.

Your attention was bought back fully to David as he finished pushing himself into you. He stilled as his hips fell flush against yours. Both your eyes rolled back at the feeling. David bent over you, forearms on either side of your head, and he kissed you.

You could still taste the come on his lips and could smell the iron and ash on his coats, but you could only feel how full you were of your vampire lover. Your walls ached at the stretch, but it still felt divine.

“You ready?” David asked, kissing under your jaw.

“M’ready,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck.

David started a gentle pace, his cock slowly dragging out of you. You could feel each vein as he pulled his hips back, and they felt even more electric rubbing against your ridges as he pressed back into you.

The moans that left your lips were sinful; David was infatuated with the noises you made, and knew the others were growing bitter watching the two of you. You noticed this too and tried to turn your head to look at them, but David pushed your jaw with his thumb to keep your view on him.

“Ah-ah,” he tutted, and gave a particularly hard thrust. The smack of his hips against your skin was loud, and the feeling made you yelp.

David had that devious grin on his face again. He licked his lips and picked up his pace. A steady stream of moans and gasps fell from your lips; you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist.

He was switching between making faces of euphoric bliss, and sneers, as he wanted to fuck you harder. He eagerly rutted his hips against yours. The PLAT, PLAT, PLAT that came from his skin hitting yours sounded like sweet-talk to the other vampires.

Paul had quietly pulled his belt out of his pant loops and discarded his jacket. He moved to his knees to stand up and join you both, but Dwayne put his hand out to stop him. He knew his companion didn’t have the will power he had, and he knew if the blond tried to interject it would not go well for anyone.

So, he stopped him. Dwayne silently shook his head ‘no’ to remind Paul that was a profoundly stupid idea. Paul angrily went back to his seat on the cave floor and gave a pouty look to the brunet.

‘I know,’ Dwayne silently mouthed to him, unwilling to talk through their bond, unsure if David would be able to pick it up in the ‘state’, he was in. Dwayne patted his lap, and Paul eagerly scooched over to the other vampire. You heard the rustling of Paul’s clothes as he crawled over Dwayne.

With David’s eves shut in pleasure, you looked over at the boys. Paul was sat atop Dwayne’s lap; you could see their heads bobbing as they kissed. As you watched them, Paul stood, his hips up in Dwayne’s face, and you could see the brunet pumping into his fist. He was helping himself, and Paul. You scrunched your eyebrows up in ecstasy, the sight before you was obscene, and the sucking noises you could hear coming from them made you buck your hips up to David’s.

Your lover moved one of his hands to grip your hip, he pulled you up to him as his thrusts slammed down against your flesh. “Oh fuck!” You sucked in air through your teeth, you were close, and David could feel it.

“Come on y/n,” David dug his nails into the skin on the side of your ass, pushing deep into you. His chest pressing on your ribs, his breath becoming hot on your neck, his groans sweet and surly in your ears. With force he pistoned into you. You could feel your walls clamping down around your mate’s length, the knot in your stomach tightening again. “Come for me,” he gave a quick bite to your neck, and you spasmed around him.

“Ahh, oh, fuck,” your legs clenched around his waist as you pulled him to you; he kept thrusting. David lapped at the bruise he made on your neck, his eyes looking up at the expression you made. He cupped your face in his hand and pulled you into a kiss.

“You look so pretty like that,” he whispered against your lips.

David gently pushed his fingers into your mouth, pressing them down on your tongue as he continued to fuck into you. Your warm wet cunt squeezing around his length, sucking him in, enticing him to keep going. His tip dragging against your sweet spot, making you bite his fingers gently. He chuckled lightly at your teeth in his skin, “easy there, sweetness.”

You eased your bite on him, and he pulled his fingers from you. Watching you bite your lip gave him an idea in that sick little mind of his. He brought his hand back to your face and pressed the web of his hand into your mouth. He wanted you to bite down on him, trying to get you to break the skin and drink his blood.

David fucked you, long, and deep. His thick cock splitting through your heat. “Mmrhph,” you moaned into his hand.

Feeling your soft squishy pussy clamping down on his cock made him thrust harder, “come on darlin’, bite it.” He was coaxing you into biting harder on his flesh. His cock pounding against your cervix, the PLAT, PLAT, PLAT’s throbbing against your ears.

Harder, David's mind screamed.

“Bite it darlin, you’re almost there.” He wanted his blood inside you, he wanted you to fully belong to him, he was done with you being tied to another. David pistoned into you, trying to get you to do what he wanted.

Harder, harder. David angled his hips up, “just a little more, sweet thing.”

He pressed his hand further into your mouth, he could feel your teeth sink into his skin, it was almost painful now. You whipped your head side to side, trying to get him out of your mouth. Before you could bite down hard enough to puncture the skin, you pulled away. His hand still partially in your mouth, “Dawid, you pwomised,” you breathed out, big doe eyes staring up at him.

David grunted, angry that you knew what he was trying to do. He eased his pace, gently rocking you now.

“David…I’m sor-” you didn’t want him upset with you, it made your heart ache.

He sighed, “it’s okay sweet thing,” he pressed a kiss to your temple. Pressuring you to do something you didn’t want to do was not the way to keep you. He gave you his word, and in his heart of hearts, he knew it was wrong. If he learned anything these past few days, it was that gaining your trust through kindness was the way to keep your heart.

He intertwined his fingers with yours, and he pressed his forehead against your own, “it’s okay baby.” He kissed you, his nose pressed against your own. The pleasure of him was too intense; you felt tears prickle the side of your eyes and flow down to your ears.

“David…” you whimpered, your other hand coming up to grip his hair. You leaned up to kiss him back, his facial hair scratching you lightly. You chuckled and scrunched your nose up at the feeling.

David stared down at you, his heart ached badly. The fact that he couldn’t turn you was killing him. He pressed his lips against yours, kissing you deeply. Worried that if he stopped touching you, you’d disappear. His free hand pushed yours off his head and down to the bed. He laced his fingers through yours and his weight shifted to your abdomen. The pressure of his forearms on yours was heavy, he gripped your hands tighter, and his thrusts turned long and slow.

“You’re mine,” he grunted against your ear, his cock pressing through your walls. “You’re mine, you got that?” His hips slapping eagerly against yours.

“I know,” you mewled, face scrunched up in pleasure.

“NO!” David looked down at you, his demeanor serious. “You’re mine, forever.” He stared down at you, studying your expression, “d’you understand that?”

You looked up at him, “I…” you hesitated. You knew from that night up on the hill he wouldn’t let you go, he’d never let you go, and you understood that fully. “I know,” you whispered simply, smiling up at him.  You squeezed his hands in yours.

He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, gripping your hands with all his might. David pistoned his hips against you. You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, and his thrusts became quick and sloppy. “M’gonn- fuck,” you whimpered against his ear, the pressure in your stomach growing. Your eyebrows scrunched up in ecstasy. David chuckled against your ear, not slowing down, “come with me.”

“David!” Your legs twitched, still wrapped around his waist, you could feel the knot in your stomach snap. Your high-pitched whines filling David’s ears as you came around his cock.

With a grunt, David pressed himself as deep as he could manage, and pumped you full of his come. His cock pushing your cervix further into your stomach as his hips stilled against you. You winced at the pain and gripped his hands tighter. You could feel his throbbing inside you while his cock continued to spurt and paint your insides white.

You squirmed under him, but the weight of his body kept you still. Your breath hiccupping in your throat as you tried not to think about the discomfort of him pressed so deep.

David looked down at you when you started to whine, “oh, fuck, sorry.” He pulled himself out a bit, and you felt the pressure start to ease. You breathlessly chuckled and hid your face in his chest.

“You okay?” He asked, worried he’d hurt you.

“M’okay,” you breathed deeply, and smiled up at him.

David tried to finish pulling himself from you, but you kept your legs wrapped around him. “Wait, I just wanna stay like this for a bit,” you smiled a soft smile at him.

He smiled back, his dead heart warming at the sight of you, “Y/n…” he whispered. “I…”

David’s confession was interrupted by the two vampires off to the side, finishing their excursion, loudly. You could hear Paul moan as his hips stuttered against Dwayne’s face, the brunet’s fist pumping his cock fiercely. They both moaned for each other, forgetting that they weren’t the only couple in the room.

David looked over at them angrily, his face scrunching up at them, and you could hear a low growl from his stomach.

You giggled, “stop it David,” from where he was connected to you, you could feel the vibrations. You pushed your hands to his chest a little and eased your hold on his waist.

“What’d I do?” David asked, sad that you’d released him from your embrace.

“I can feel you…” you waggled your finger at his abdomen, where the growl was coming from. “I can feel it in my…” you giggled.

“Oh, is that all?” David said cockily, nuzzling into your neck and beginning to growl again.

“David!” you shrieked, pushing your hands to his hips. “Get out of me,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes at him.

He smiled and pressed a quick kiss to your lips before he pulled from you. Immediately, you could feel his love seeping out of you. He always made a mess of you, and you could imagine the bruises he left along your body. The ones you could see were bright red, his teeth marks deep in your flesh.

David was sat up now, with his legs over the side of the bed. He was putting himself back in his jeans. He leaned back to button them, and you could hear the zipper as he pulled it shut.

You watched your lover walked over to where the other two were, still panting and licking each other.

"Hey, Paul," David called to his brother. Paul turned to look at the other blond, and David raised a hand and smacked him in the back of the head.

“Ow! What the fu-!” Paul began.

“Don’t touch her without her permission again,” David pointed his finger in Paul’s face.

Paul rubbed the back of his head, irritated, “fuck, damn, okay! Fuck.”

Dwayne eyed David silently from the floor, his hands still on Paul’s hips as David turned to walk back to you.

You were sat up in the bed, holding the sheet in one hand above your chest, “you okay?” You asked David, who’d walked through the curtains.

“Mhm,” he hummed softly and got back in the bed with you. He sat next to you on the bed, criss cross. He had a cute, ‘innocent’ look on his face as he swayed gently side to side.

“What, David?” You asked, suspicious, he was only had that look on his face when he wanted something.

He cocked an eyebrow at you, his innocent look turning into something new, as he bit his lip.

“Uh-oh,” you chuckled, and David threw his arms around you and pushed you to the bed.

[the-fiction-witch]

Paul McCartney Masterlist (Nowhere Boy)

Hi - flirty Cutie With the pink petticoats - Sweet Music Teacher - flirty NSFW 30 Feels Like The First Time P1 - Sexy You. Are. Evil. - smut tight - Flirty Tears - adorable Not So Loud - smut Morning - smut NSFW 100 Twenty flight rock - flirty Hello? - sweet We Could? - sweet Sofa - smut RePay - flirty Re Pay P2 - sexy I Put A spell on you - sexy Christmas with you - sweet Yes Buttercup? - flirty Angel - smut Office - sweet NSFW ABC Hardwicks P1 - sexy You have it so Easy! - funny spooky song - sweet Just For You - sweet The Music Store Girl - cute Frozen - cute Break a Leg - Cute Pins - Cute Blood Pumping P1 - smut Blood Pumping P2 - Flirty Aftershow - Smut Spooky Movie Time! - cute Average Tuesday - Smut Teddy Girl - Flirty White Jacket - Sweet Serenaded - smut Little Bird - smut Sad Sushi Roll - adorable You And I - Flirty You And I P2 - Flirty You And I P3 - smut You and I P4 - Smut You and I P5 - 18 + You and I P6 - 18 + Lights In The Snow - 12

[foreverdolly]

࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 5 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.

word count: 6.6k

← previous chapter | next chapter →

“Move.” 

He was like an impenetrable wall. 

You attempted yet again to step around Feyd, your outstretched hand just barely brushing against the door before the man turned his body, blocking you from the exit. He stood with his arms crossed, using his much larger frame as a barricade. After the. . . events that transpired last night, the only thing that was on your mind was freedom. You needed breathing room, if only for a few minutes. Feyd had been your shadow for the last three days. He hadn’t left your side even for a second. 

You wanted to trust him, even against your better judgment, so you tried to believe that it was only because he wanted to protect you. There was still that overly cautious voice nagging at you, telling you that he was looking for weaknesses to use against you later. His all-seeing eyes could be sizing you up, making note of how many bites it would take for him to swallow you up whole. The last thing you wanted was to be consumed by this place. . .  Consumed by him.  

The events that had transpired in your guest bedroom four days ago had your suspicions rising, and you needed to be certain that you were just paranoid before you could even begin thinking about your fast approaching wedding ceremony. 

You had feared your impending fate for the entirety of your life. That had always been the one thing that frightened you most, and yet here you were, bruised and battered. It was crazy to believe that there were people on Geidi Prime that were worse than Feyd-Rautha. . . and yet here you were, depending on him for safety. You needed answers. 

How had the guard even entered your room in the first place? 

“I won’t tell you again. Move.” Your jaw ached, teeth grinding together as you tried to keep yourself from striking him across that cocky face of his. 

The skin between his brow bones wrinkled ever-so-slightly as he stared down at you. It was almost as though he was scolding a small child, watching them flail and cry after their punishment had been dealt. Last you had checked, you’d done nothing wrong. Why were your basic rights being revoked after the attempted murder? Why did it feel like you were the one paying the price? 

“Either you come with me and train or you stay in our room until I grab you. You have two choices. Pick one.” The pale Na-Baron almost seemed bored of your antics and you couldn’t blame him. 

You’d been fighting him every chance you got ever since he had forced himself on you last night. A silent vow had been made right then and there: you were going to make his life a living hell, only stopping once you deemed he had done his proper penance. 

“I like neither of those options. Watching you train has done nothing for me. I want to learn-” 

“You don’t need to learn how to fight. Is it not the husband’s duty to protect his wife?” He tilted his head to the side, staring down at you with a hint of concern in his eyes. 

Why was he so obsessed with the idea of protecting you? The most he did while the two of you “trained” was block your onslaught of attacks. Gurney wasn’t afraid to hit you in the sparring ring, even if you ended up injured and butt-hurt. He was blunt and told you the ways that you could improve yourself, meanwhile Feyd had been treating you like you were made of porcelain ever since the assassination attempt. You hated it. With your vocal cords still fried from the strangulation, you were made all too aware of the fact that your fighting skills were subpar. 

You’d tried goading Feyd into attacking you head on many times, but no matter what you said he still held his punches. The difference between his treatment of you and other’s was startling. Someone could look at him wrong and he was immediately jumping down their throats, ready to strike with lethal precision. 

“One day you will have to leave me alone, if even for a few minutes. . . and what then? You can’t always be there-” You were trying desperately to explain, and yet he would hear none of it. He looked almost offended by what you were saying. 

“I will always be here,” He was quick to interject, eyes suddenly wild. “I won’t let anything hurt you again.” 

Realistically you knew that your heart shouldn’t be pounding the way that it was. 

Still, there it was, hammering away in your chest. Every once in a while it was almost as though that dark veil that he had cast over himself was lifted, revealing someone entirely new to you. Someone, as much as you hated to admit it, that was entirely too likable. Loveable, even. His constant changes in personality were starting to give you whiplash. Was he someone completely different when he was around you? Or was he just trying on different faces to see which one you liked better? 

You clenched your fists at your side, trying hard to calm your raging emotions. His actions last night were completely barbaric, and yet you couldn’t forget the softness of his lips. The warmth of his mouth over yours had plagued your dreams and made it impossible to sleep. It was insane of you to feel this conflicted about something. You should hate everything about this man, and yet here he was, promising to be your protector. More than that, he was promising to stick around, which was arguably more terrifying. 

“I’m going then. Will you not be coming with me?” He unfolded his arms, reaching a hand out for you to take. 

It hung there in the space between you two, his pale fingers twitching. For a second you contemplated taking it. Regretfully you realized that you had something that you needed to look into. 

“I’ll stay here,” You faltered when you saw the hint of rejection in his eyes as he let his hand fall back to his side. “My bruises are tender today, so I’ll just take a bath.” 

Why were you trying to make him feel better about your refusal? This was all too confusing. 

“Alright then. I’ll see you in an hour.” And with that he turned on the heel of his boot and walked through the door, careful to close it tightly behind him. 

You breathed a sigh of relief, moving forward so that you could press your forehead against the cool metal. It felt good against your flushed skin. 

“I won’t leave until I hear you slide the lock into place.” His deep voice was muffled behind the thick barrier between the two of you. 

You closed your eyes tightly, sliding your hand against the door until you found the lock, clicking it soundly into place. It must have appeased him, as you heard his retreating footsteps just a second later. 

Time ticked by as you waited to be free of your newfound guardian. The last thing you wanted was to be caught in the hallway sneaking around. Feyd would surely side with his uncle if you were to tell him all about your suspicions, so you’d rather just investigate on your own until you had solid evidence. You wanted to believe that you hadn’t been set up to die, and yet you had this intense gut feeling that this all went even deeper than that. 

Why would they make good on the promised engagement if they just wanted to kill you? It’s not like you were any real threat, other than the fact that you had been blessed with your mother’s gifts. As you were now, you were basically useless, which was a very hard pill to swallow. 

Slowly you unlocked the door, scared that the sound might alert someone. You had slipped the knife you had stolen during your first dinner on Giedi Prime into your belt, hiding it under the flowing black gauze of your blouse for good measure. Even if you were caught, you needed some way to protect yourself. 

The cold metal bit into your skin as you slid the door open, reminding you that you were safe. You will never let anyone hurt you like that again. 

This time you will be ready. 

Two rights and then three lefts. You had memorized the way to go in order to get to the left wing for this very reason. The Baron’s defenses would be tight, but his office would be relatively empty around this time. It was just about lunch, and according to Feyd he would retire to his personal quarters. If you could distract the guards for long enough to slip in, riffle around for information, and then get out. . . you’d be home free. 

You wiped your sweaty palms on your skirt as you walked through the hall, training your expression to one of stony indifference. Modeling it after Feyd’s, you briskly made your way, hoping that the guards would be confused enough to let you pass without so much as a second thought. 

‘I belong here.’ You lied to ourself, trying to bolster your confidence. 

A few men in uniform turned to look after you, but no one stopped you. The way to the baron’s office was completely new to you. Feyd had never taken you this deep into the left wing before- only to get to the grand-hall to show you where the ceremony would be held. It was as large and foreboding as all of the other rooms on the giant estate, but the onyx floors had a certain shine to them as though there were flecks of quartz sprinkled throughout. You didn’t want to admit it at the time, but it was a rather extravagant place to get married. 

You’d nonchalantly asked if the Baron lived in the left wing seeing as the architecture was seemingly more grandiose. He couldn’t have known that you would try to make your way in this direction on your own because he had let it slip: the baron and his office were located very close to the grand-hall. 

“What are you doing over here?” The man’s voice was deeper than Feyd’s, though he was half his size. 

The guard at his side looked to be twice your age, and yet the expression in his eyes made you think that he wouldn’t think twice about ripping your head straight from your shoulders. 

“The Na-Baron asked me to come and get you two.” It felt awkward using Feyd’s title, stuffy even. 

The two blinked a few times in disbelief, looking you up and down as if you were an insignificant worm. It was almost like you could hear their thoughts. You were nothing but a pitiful Atreides, so what were you doing taking orders from someone as important as your soon-to-be husband? They doubted that he would ever confide in you for anything other than warming his bed. 

“He told me that the two men standing in front of the Baron’s office were needed in the training room.” The sooner they were gone the better. 

Their eyebrows furrowed in confusion, slowly looking behind them at the large door they were currently standing in front of. How would you know that this was his uncle’s office unless you were explicitly told? 

“Did he mention why we are needed?” There was still a hint of distrust in the older man’s voice, but it was far overshadowed by fear. 

Feyd was unpredictable. Unpredictability and psychosis made for a dangerous combination. 

“Another guard confided in him yesterday. Said that the two of you said something disrespectful recently and that he wanted to personally have a word with the both of you. I don’t know anything more than that.” You wanted them so frightened that they would completely abandon all reason. They needed to be gone long enough to give you time to properly search the place. 

You watched as their pale faces went a sick shade of pale purple. The two looked like the gossiping type, and if their expressions were anything to go off of then you must be right. They were quick to bow their heads in your direction before jogging off, muttering curses under their breath. 

A second. Two seconds. Three. . . 

You opened the door as slowly as you possibly could, praying that it wouldn’t make a noise. You waited to see if you could hear any movement, wondering whether or not the inside was being watched as well. Thankfully you heard nothing. The room wasn’t as massive as you had been expecting. It was just about as large as the first bedroom you had been placed in was, but somehow it looked even darker. It still had the strangely textured walls and beautiful floors, same as the grand-hall, but there was something unsettling about it. The only light coming in was through the large window that was located in the middle of the room, but the world outside was a slate gray, so even that was dim.  You didn’t have time to look out the large window, no matter how curious you were about your new surroundings. There was something that you had to do. Making a decision on how you should go about this whole predicament was paramount, and you refused to do it after the wedding. 

There was still time to try and contact your parents back home if you had suspicions of a possible murder plot. 

The Baron’s desk was neat, not a speck of dust marring it’s matte black surface. You weren’t looking for anything in particular. . . just something that would put your mind at ease. Confirmation was needed, one way or another. Either Feyd’s uncle was innocent or guilty. Of what? You weren’t quite sure yet. 

You riffled through the papers that sat on the middle of the table, careful to stack them up exactly where they once were. The information in them seemed useless to you. Financial documents- most of them discussing the retrieval of spice. Never once had you stepped foot on Arrakis, so you found them slightly boring at worst and mildly interesting at best. It was then that you started tugging at the very few drawers, knowing that you would be found at any second. There were no sounds emitting from the hallway, but that didn’t mean anything. Most of the people on this planet were freaks of nature it would seem. You suddenly began to doubt that there would be any evidence here of all places. 

Asking the guard that attempted to kill you and his accomplices questions would have been the best route, but your fiance had acted rashly before you even had the chance to catch your breath. The time to give up on your investigation was near. Seconds had turned into minutes. Your heart was pounding up in your throat, making it hard to breathe as you opened the last drawer. 

It turned out that it wasn’t a drawer at all but a small cabinet. You had to crouch down and squint your eyes in the dark to see inside. The contents would have been useless to you in most cases, but something caught your eye. . . and terrified you in ways that you couldn’t quite put into words. 

It was a cabinet filled with marked- 

“Did you see his face? It looked like he was surprised to see us.” The male’s voice had you standing up so fast that a muscle in your neck twitched, resulting in a dull pain shooting up the base of your head. 

You were about to be caught. Any second now they would be back at the door, and where would you hide in the hallway? The billowy skirt that the ladies in waiting had brought to Feyd’s room this morning nearly sabotaged you as you tripped by the door. They were just around the corner, only a few steps away from his office now. 

What would happen if you were caught? Would the wedding be called off? Would you be punished severely? 

You closed the door as quietly as you could behind you, running in the opposite direction that the two begrudged guards were coming from. You only skidded to a stop when you saw that this hallway was also heavily guarded, their backs turned to you. 

This was the worst case scenario. You were running in the opposite direction where you had come, which meant that you had absolutely no clue where you were going. There was no way that you would get out of this without some sort of formal permission, and two guards were already suspicious of you. Oh, and you couldn’t use the Voice if things started going south. 

If you could sink right into the floor, right in this moment, you would. 

The cabinet in the baron’s office was filled with keycards, each labeled with numbers that must correspond to each room. Only two were missing- two keycards that belonged to a room that had been organized on the wall of the right side of the cabinet. Left wing and right wing. The guest rooms were located in the right. 

There was no way that was a coincidence. . . not when you were staying in the right wing the night that you were injured. You had been given a keycard at the very beginning of your stay. Not even your ladies-in-waiting had a way to get into your room by themselves. They had to knock on the door and wait for you to unlock it from the inside for them. 

So if you had one keycard. . . then who had the other? Had someone broken into the Baron’s room just the same as you had, perhaps?  

A sudden grip on your wrist had your mouth falling open, your lungs seizing as you sucked in a breath, your body's natural reaction being to scream. A hand was quick to press to your mouth, muffling whatever sound you could make. The hand belonged to someone tall, their body hard against your back as they ushered you into a small space. They pressed a button on the wall, and all you could do was watch in horror as the door slid closed behind the two of you. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

It was pitch black in whatever tight space he had dragged you into. A closet, you surmised. Still, you could hear that his teeth were clenched as he spoke to you, voice deep and low as he whispered. 

Feyd. You hated the fact that you were so relieved that it was him. His presence here meant that you were safe. All you had to do was come up with some sort of lie as to why you were here. Walking alongside him wouldn’t dredge up any suspicions. No one would be the wiser if they saw the Na-Baron giving his soon-to-be bride a tour around the grounds. 

His chest was pressed tight against yours, and suddenly you found it hard to take in a single breath. It felt as though he might press himself straight into your ribcage. . . and maybe you really were going crazy, but you wouldn’t mind it if he did break you. The smoky, spiced scent of him was clouding your judgment. 

You were no longer yourself. 

“It’s none of your business.” You whispered back, trying to make your tone just as ferocious as his was. It lacked bite though, and he seemed to catch the way that your voice faltered ever so slightly. 

“Getting yourself killed the second that I look the other way. . .” He scoffed, and you wished so badly that you could make out his features in the dark. His body moved ever so slightly, as though he was leaning his head back in exasperation. “Do I need to bind your hands and ankles every time I leave the room? Are you that incapable of being without me even for a second?” 

“I got lost.” You hissed, the lie sweet on your honeyed tongue. You were getting better at being despicable. 

“Well, that’s too bad,” His voice softened, almost as though he was speaking to a child. “Getting lost in these halls isn’t hard to do.” 

His grip on your wrists tightened to the point of pain, and for a second fear flashed behind your eyes. You hadn’t feared Feyd since you first arrived on Geidi Prime, and it was as though you were being brutally reminded of just who warmed your bed at night. He could kill you with his bare hands if he wanted to. Those strong fingers were currently immobilizing you now, leaving bruises on your wrist where he held you so ruthlessly. 

“You’re a clever little mouse. What are you doing outside of my uncle’s door, hmm?” His hand freed one of your wrists, instead opting to grip your jaw so that he could move your head up. 

Could. . . could he see you? The breath loosed from your lungs and all you could do was squint your eyes, begging them to adjust to the darkness. He was in his element here, lost to you in the shadows. 

“If the guards caught you then they could deem you to be a spy. You would have been beheaded before I had time to get to you, and I’m sure that they wouldn’t have notified me before the killing took place. They know. . . how I am with you.” He chose his last words very carefully, faltering before he sounded the words out. 

“And how are you? With me, I mean.” You regretted the words as soon as they passed your lips, and yet you were curious. Were you nothing more than a pet to him? A plaything for him to take off of the shelf whenever it suited his mood? Perhaps he saw you as nothing more than a conquest.

Your hand shook as you began digging into your side, searching your belt for the handle of the blade that you had been carrying during your explorations of this labyrinthian prison. Slowly you pulled it out, pressing it against his side. 

You felt his muscles jump under his shirt as he realized you were now brandishing a weapon. His grip was still vicelike around one of your wrists, but he moved again, slowly looking down at his side to see exactly what it was that you were now threatening him with. 

“I could snap your neck right now.” 

“But you won’t.” That was the only thing that you were sure of. It was the only truth that you were clinging onto: Feyd Rautha would not harm you. 

He moved your head to the side, the blade pressing hard into his side as he leaned forward, squeezing the breath straight from your lungs as his hard chest pressed pressed pressed into yours. Your breasts felt as though they might burst and your heart right along with it. He placed a kiss on the side of your neck, causing you to jerk in surprise. 

The knife dug into his side and you paled in horror as you realized what you had done. He groaned, the noise echoing in your ear due to your very forced proximity. You needed space. You needed to breathe. 

“No. I wouldn’t,” His breath was hot against your cheek as he slid his nose along the expanse of your neck. “Not ever.” 

It felt as though something was being pulled taught in your heart. At any second it threatened to tear free. He had galvanized a strange sort of reaction from you- one that you were wholly unfamiliar with. This was all too new and all too much. 

“Let go of me.” Your voice shook pathetically, and while it was a command. . . truly, you were begging him. 

“You’ve finally learned to tolerate me. Or is this developing into something that you weren’t prepared for?” There was something in his voice. . . something that you were entirely confident that he was incapable of displaying: feeling. “Is that why you haven’t been able to look at me since yesterday?” 

“I-I’m angry at you. Why do you think that I would be able to even stomach looking at you after that?” 

He pulled away from your neck, the blade of the knife dislodging itself by a few centimeters with the added distance. He groaned again under his breath, his hand moving your face yet again so that he could get a good look at you. Your jaw ached as his fingers dug in ever so slightly. 

“No, this isn’t the face of anger.” He sounded sure of that. 

And it scared you that he was right. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried desperately to see him in the darkness. Still, all you saw was black. 

“Then what is it? If you know so much then tell me.” 

“I don’t know. . .” And for a second you thought that you might have won this round somehow. “No one has ever looked at me the way that you do.” 

Your lips parted in shock as you stared up into the darkness. Did he always have to pull the rug right out from under you? Just when you were finally starting to get your bearings, he made you feel so unstable. If both of your hands were free then you would have tangled them in your hair. The arm that gripped your weapon slackened, the blade clattering to the floor beside you. 

“Then I feel sorry for you.” Your eyes pricked with tears, so you closed the useless things. Still, after all of this, you refused to let him see you cry. 

“I know.” He whispered, his voice so gentle that you could weep. 

“And I fear you.” 

“I know.” His forehead pressed against yours. 

“I don’t want this.” 

“I know.” He nuzzled against you, his grip on your wrists finally loosening. He must have known that you wouldn’t try to get away from him. 

The fucked up thing was that it felt as though your feet had grown roots, tying you to the spot. All it would take was one good shove and you would be free of him and the closet. And yet. . . 

And yet. . . 

“I could have sworn I saw someone over here.” The voice outside in the hallway made you jump, your eyes shooting open. 

You hadn’t been as careful as you thought you had been. Feyd’s earlier statement was coming back to haunt you. They would have you killed, uncaring as to whether or not you even made it into the bastard’s room. Whatever purpose you had for being in this area would be nefarious in everyone else’s mind. What were you even doing here in the first place? Your suspicions were unfounded, and more likely than not you would have found absolutely nothing to substantiate them. Would your parents be able to retrieve your body? Or would they just burn you without even sending a letter back home? 

Feyd’s hand slid up the base of your neck, gripping at your hair. Did he not understand how much danger you were in? Maybe he didn’t care afterall. His knee slid between your legs, forcing them open. 

“What are you doing?” You gripped at the back of his shirt, trying to pull him away from you, hoping that there was some place in this cramped space that you could hide. The voices were getting even closer now, searching for where they thought that you might be hiding. It was only a matter of time before they found you. 

“Saving your life.” He captured your lips in a bruising kiss, his hand sliding out of your hair so that he could begin undoing the front of your blouse. You could hear the sheer fabric of your tunic ripping beneath his hands in his desperate attempt to get to you. 

All you could do was grip onto him for dear life, unable to free yourself to even utter a cry. You were unsure as to how doing this would save you, but you were losing the ability to care much at all. If these were going to be your final moments then so be it. 

So you gave in to the desire. You gave into the wanting and the needing. You fed the ache that had been plaguing you. 

Your lips moved against his, parting so that you could fully taste him. His hands felt firm on your chest as he finally was able to tear you free of the cloth. The air was cold on your hot chest, and yet his hands were scalding against your skin. You tried to remind yourself that none of this was right, but it wasn’t working. His tongue lapped at the roof of your mouth and your own brushed up to meet his. 

More. More. You needed more of him. 

Your hands shook as they began pushing up at the fabric of his training gear. The breathable fabric stretched as you pressed your hand against his chest, finally allowing yourself to feel the hard planes of his muscles. You felt his stomach tighten as your fingers glided along his skin. You were unsure as to what you were searching for, but your body was acting on pure instinct. Your fingers reached up and up until they finally slid free of the fabric at his collar bones only to wrap around his throat.

He groaned into your mouth, his thumb brushing against your nipple. It hardened in response to the sudden attention it was getting. His knee pressed further against your thighs, spreading your legs out further for him until he was finally at the apex of your thighs. His hand flew from your breast to your hips, moving them for you against him. The friction caused your head to roll back against the wall behind you, disrupting the kiss as pleasure rocked through you. Never in your life had you ever felt anything quite like this. 

He continued to rock you back against his thigh, and while you couldn’t see him, you could feel his eyes on your face. He was watching you intently, hell bent on doing whatever it was that he wanted to do to your body. You were unsure of his goal and yet you didn’t care. Something was building inside of you- a sound, a cry, a sob. . . you weren’t certain. It just felt so good. Too good. 

He must have seen your lips part and was quick to press a kiss against them in an attempt to muffle the sound. Your knees felt weak beneath you, and if it wasn’t for his dutiful hands that gripped at your thighs then you were sure that you would have fallen ages ago. 

You remembered how he had felt against you the other night and you wondered if that was a reaction that you had somehow unknowingly caused. You wanted to feel him again. You wanted to know whether or not he was enjoying himself, so you freed his neck and instead pressed your hand against the front of his pants. What had gotten into you? What were you even doing? 

But he was hard against your hand and that was enough for you to begin rocking your hips against his knee without his prompting hands. 

The feeling of your tiny palm cupping him through his pants was more than enough. His hips jerked forward, his eyes flying open at the realization that the object of his lifelong obsessions was willingly touching him like this. He was going to fuck you in this closet if the two of you weren’t found. Feyd didn’t want it to happen like this. . . but he was losing what little control he had left. 

He loved you he loved you he loved you he loved you he loved you he loved you. 

“I-” 

The door flew open the second he opened his mouth, the bright light momentarily blinding him. His body moved on its own, Feyd’s hands moving from your hips up to your shoulders so that he could turn you, using his body to shield you from view. His chest moved up and down rapidly as he gulped down breaths, trying hard to calm himself and his pounding heart. 

There was an unfamiliar man holding the door to the closet, eyes wide as he took in the site of the two of you. It took him a few seconds to really register what was going on in the small broom closet, and then another to fully grasp the fact that he had made a grave mistake. 

“I-I-I had no clue it was you, sir.” The uniformed man stepped back, trying to show the Na-Baron respect. 

You watched in real time as something pure and terrifying bled its way into Feyd’s expression. It had chills running up your spine. 

“Turn your gaze away from her.” His voice was so low that you could barely understand what he was saying. “Now.”The other male quickly got the hint, turning his entire body to face the other direction. His back was ram-rod straight and you watched with a slack jaw as his knees began to quiver. 

You wouldn’t want to turn your back on a rabid beast either. 

“Just get me out of here. Please.” You spoke as quietly as you could, covering the scraps of material that used to be your blouse tight to your exposed chest. 

Killing the random guard in plain sight would attract a small crowd. You watched as Feyd weighed his options, and you bet that the two blades that were still strapped to his back were calling out to him. 

Silently Feyd pulled you out of the closet, holding you so tightly to his chest that your arm became uncomfortably pinned against you. 

The two of you walked through the halls silently, his eyes burning holes into the faces of anyone that even glanced in your direction. The embarrassment of being so exposed in front of everyone had you crawling out of your own skin. No one had seen you naked before- aside from the women that had been tasked to take care of you over the years. All you could do to try and keep yourself from crying was stare down at the floor, watching the pale man’s black boots make their way soundlessly through the halls. Everything he did was so graceful it seemed. 

The blood drained from your face as you were suddenly reminded of the fact that he had seen your chest completely exposed. He’d felt you, kissed you, and pleasured you nearly to the point of your undoing. 

And you had let him. You put up no resistance at all. 

Even worse, you wanted him to do all of those things to you. If you hadn’t been caught then how far would you have let things continue? In that moment you realized that you would have let him take you. You knew yourself well enough to know that you would have let him take your virginity in a broom closet. 

“No one is looking at you,” He seemed to sense your sudden mortification somehow. “I promise. I’d kill them otherwise.” And you knew he was telling the truth. He was probably taking an internal tally of anyone that started for too long, only so that he could circle back for them later. 

All you could do was nod your head and follow him down the hall, stopping only when he reached into his pocket and grabbed his own keycard, letting the two of you back into your room. 

You kept your chest covered with your hands as the two of you broke away. You knew that it was pointless, but the moment was gone and your panic had returned tenfold. 

“Now tell me,” He turned to face you and you watched as his lips turned down at the corners in slight disappointment when he noticed your sudden modesty. “What were you doing over there? Be honest.” 

You couldn’t be honest and it pained you to know that. Feyd was still a Harkonnen. He was loyal to them, not an Atreides. 

“Why did you kiss me?” You were answering a question with another question, but you needed to know. Urgently. 

He licked his lips, as though he was being reminded of the moment. “No one would ask questions.” 

Anger struck you hard in the gut. He had used the moment as a distraction? You felt like an idiot, already regretting the fact that you had allowed him to use your body like that. 

“I didn’t mean to take it that far. It’s becoming harder and harder to control myself.” He must have noticed the hurt in your eyes. “I want you. Not because we are getting married. . . but because I want you.” He was being uncharacteristically emotional today. 

You weren’t sure what that statement truly meant, but it seemed heavy- heavy enough that you felt the need to be more forthcoming with him. 

“I was trying to make my way into the Baron’s office.” A half truth, then. It was easier than telling him everything. “But it was locked.” 

Feyd’s eyes never left your face. They were much softer than they had been in the hallway, almost as though all of the hatred had melted away completely. He looked at you like he cared for you. . . and that was scary. 

“I don’t know why it hurts so much. . . but it does.” His voice was flat, almost as though he was distracted while he continued to watch you. “I know you’re lying to me. My uncle’s office is only ever locked after dinner, which is for safety reasons.” 

You had to bite your bottom lip to keep it from quivering. 

“Only my uncle has clearance to get into that room. The guards in the left wing only ever act on mine or the Baron’s orders. They’re all loyal to a fault. . . so tell me. Did you get into his office?” 

You completely ignored his line of questioning, distracted by something he had said. 

“So none of them would allow someone other than the Baron himself to enter that room?” Your voice shook with fear, your eyes widening as all the pieces started coming together. 

“No,” He looked confused as your lips parted in a silent scream. “What? What is that face for?” 

You felt more alone than you ever had in your entire life. He was out to kill you. . . There would be no escaping this place alive. Your parents had been set up and had given you away to murderers- 

“The guard that tried to kill me. . .” You couldn’t keep your voice from shaking. “What wing did he belong to?” 

Feyd’s muscles went rigid beneath his shirt, as though he was just now coming to some conclusions of his own. “The left.” 

The breath was knocked from your lungs as the full weight of everything crashed into you. 

You were stuck on an alien planet with no way home, Feyd Rautha was going to become your husband in just two days, you wanted Feyd so badly it hurt you. . . 

And his uncle was plotting to kill you. 

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

← previous chapter | next chapter →

ೃ࿔ savage bonds taglist:

@elf-punk @shitfuckeryclownverse @mydarlingelvis @heartarianagran @ohdearmaggie @chalametism @killingboredom @obsessedvibee @avidreader73 @softboo @tedcruzumakii @luminnara @narniansmagic @torchbearerkyle @ziggy-stardust-world @tian-monique @adoxra @zz-snow-zz @tiredsleepyhead @icontrolthespice @itsparksjoyhuh @verveta345 @shegatsby @zae5 @ertepla @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @lotus-888 @meetmeatyourworst @moonchild-artemisdaughter @abswifey @flower-frog @auroranodyssey @forgedfromthestars @moony-artemis @juliskopf @moonsoulk @serrendiipty @atrxidxs @the-ruler-of-death @mintoblobo @just-pure-trash @randominterwebthings @springholland @so-dramatic1 @ashy-kit @aslutforscarletwitch99 @sofia-013 @gamorxa @ricecakeslove @alexandrainlove @selfishlittlebeing @ceres27

[whore-ibly-hot]

THROUGH OUR LORD AND SAVIOR @yanderereblogs THE FACULTY HAVE BEEN FOYND AND RETURNED TO US! PRAISE BE TO REBLOGGERS, SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL ARCHIVISTS!

Yandere Boarding School Part 2, (Faculty)

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Multiple yanderes, non-con touching, dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, bullying, masturbation, aphrodisiacs, general perversion, dry-humping, voyeurism, controlling behaviors, typical yandere stuff, breeding, smoking, horny posting.

(AN: Part Two has been reuploaded after a takedown, godspeed @yanderereblogs for saving it! Mmmmmm, old men. Everyone pictured as a student is OF LEGAL AGE TUMBLR MODS HOP OFF MY DICK.

Background: Thinking about a Headmasters Son or Daughter!Reader at a private boarding school. For a Fem!Reader, perhaps you're just visiting daddy for the season while he's running the school, or maybe you've been bad, and need more supervision. For a Masc!Reader, it could be the same case, however, with Ridgemoore Academy being an all male school, this makes it easier to imagine a world where reader is allowed in the school. Now, let's focus on the faculty...

◇ Mr. Joel Murphy, who teaches the majority of the 'life skills' classes at the school. The school being all-boys is very traditional, and teaches things like game hunting and orienteering, which is why they hired a manly-man like Joel. If only they knew what a bitter grump he is. An ex-sheriff of the nearby town, he decided to leave the force after realizing there was no real crime in the small, privileged town, and decided to take up an easy job at the school. Unfortunately, he realized his love for camping and hunting is warped into what he considers 'frilly shit for rich little boys'. He's gruff, barking out orders and easily been exasperated at the sheer incompetence of the boys.

"Shoot one quail, and these boys act like they killed a bear..."

He thought about retiring from yet another job, as living on the ritzy campus just doesn't feel like home to him, and lord knows he's not fond of his job. However, things change when you arrive. Whether you're a delinquent or a little more sweet and obedient, he likes you. If you're a delinquent, he likes seeing a little hell-raiser kick up some shit at the fancy school. If you're sweet or shy, he gets protective. Nice youngins' like you shouldn't be thrown in amongst these spoiled weasels.

He's sure to help you if you need it, a gentle hand on your back as his burly chest presses against your shoulder blades, adjusting your position against the butt of a rifle. Standing by while you're on hands and knees trying to light a fire, making sure none of the boys are trying to get a look at your assessts. Not that he isn't going to, but he justifies it to himself as just making sure your school shorts/skirt is regulation. He's protecting your modesty. After class hours, come to him with any issues, or shit, even his room. He'll put on some coffee and ask you to help him create a curriculum that 'reaches the kids', as your father instructed him to. It's cozy, the fancy school adnorments thrown away for medals and plaques, national parks posters and a few old family photos. He'll keep you tucked in on his warm couch while he strays from curriculum talk to stories of his time in the scouts and on the force. Tells you about how much he loves just... laying out under the stars with somebody special, to sit around a campfire with friends, then slyly ask is you've ever had somebody to do that with. He knows you're younger than him, and he struggles with the idea that you won't want him cause of it, so for now, he'll bask in the feeling of seeing you curled up in his room, keeping the idea of picking you up and having you accept his cock to himself. If you can get pregnant, his fists his cock to the thought of that too. He's not some horned up boy, he wants you in the long term.

He looooooves the yearly orienteering final, in which the students in the class are made to go on an actual camping trip. It's possible a tent will 'accidentally' go missing, leaving you to bunk with him. Don't worry, nothing bads gonna happen while you've got this burly bear of a man practically spooning you, warm gut from his dad-bod pressed against you as he tries his best to make sure he doesn't scare you.

"Sorry those damn boys left your tent back at the school, kiddo. I... wouldn't be suprised of one of them did it on purpose, little bastards." He grumbles, hoping you'll take the hint to separate yourself from those immature preps and stick to being with a man who can treat you right. "Remember that lesson from a couple weeks ago, on body heat? I know it's awkward, but we've only got one sleeping bag. You feel like you can trust this old man to keep you warm?" Unfortunately for his ego and trying to keep down his urges, the trees aren't going to be the only wood in the morning.

◇ Mr. Paul Burton, head of the arts department. He's so over this, a once decent artist who dabbled in pop art and theatre only to stop getting gigs and be black-listed after offending several more famous artists, calling their work 'sell-out chic', he's now a burn-out who smokes and ignores his students all class. He's passionate about art, but frankly he doesn't want tow aste his time teaching when he knows these rats are taking his class for easy credit. He's only teaching here to utilize the facilities and studios so he's not living in a van in the Walmart parking lot. A mix of hippie culture, live and let live and cynical burnout, he's so. Fucking. Done. But... maybe you change that for him.

You're interesting, a headmasters child who doesn't fit in to your fathers perfect mold? Maybe a rebellious student who goes against the grain of this perfect school. Or a blooming ray of sunshine in this dark den of privilege and conformist curriculum for the future lawyers of the world. Either way, he's found a new muse. See him after class.

He'll be thrilled if you're into art, let him guide you. Tell him your favorite artists and he'll tell you when he threw up on there shoes by accident in his hey-day. Gossip about a student you don't like, he'll listen while he smokes and tell you about how that guys mom hit on him. He loves to gossip, but he loves to watch you create more. The way your hands shape a vase or brush across a canvas light a fire in him he hasn't felt in a while. He's more willing to forgo the age gap between you, while it's never something he considered before, he knows he's not gonna let go of the one thing that makes him feel like he lives again. Besides, he's always been unconventional.

He'll have you stay after class, maybe he'll have you pose nude for a painting, assuring you it's fins, it's platonic, it's just for the love of art. He chooses and extra large canvas, it lets him paint while he relieves himself as you explain you're getting cold. He'll put on some artsy, silent, black and white film from the 30s, and while you watch and slowly realize it's pornographic, He'll grin to himself while he watches you flush. He'll ask you all sorts of questions about your thoughts on the film, the actors, what they're doing. He really wants to figure out how experienced you are. "What do you think of the composition? It's really carnal, you know?" He puts out his cigarette. "I'm glad I can show this to you, you'll actually appreciate it. You're not giggling like an idiot when some guys penis is out on the screen." He groans, thinking of his other students.

He does actually like one student, though they make an odd pair. Joseph's easily spooked and shy personality clashes with the brash older man's, but he's glad to have someone he can think of as a protege. Someone who loves art as much as him, but get isolated for it. He was doing a portfolio look over when Joseph accidentally turned in the wrong folder. Joseph feels like he might die as Mr. Burton, a man he admires, flips through nude pictures of the object of his affection, and at a distance no less. A part of him wants to rip it away, but he needs this scholarship.

"Please, please, sir! I-I'll never do it again, it was just a phase, I didn't mean for you to see-"

"They're good." Mr. Burton flips through the folder. "Real good. You could really get somewhere with these, maybe not in the fine art scene, but... tell you what." He adjusts his glasses and leans forward on his desk. "We'll do a special session, you and me, yeah? I'll get your friend here, and I'll vouch for your integrity so you can take some less-" he purses his lips. "Stalker-ish pics- Jesus, kid, is that taken from a tree?"

☆ Anatoli Sidorov, probably the best paid staff given how they got him here. He's a Russian coach for a former Olympic Russian swim team, and he joined the prestigious American school to escape shame after he 'resigned' post a doping scandal which he swears he wasn't involved in. (Whether he was or not is your choice.) Still, he's led the boys swim team and track team to nationals several times, and he's a legend among the wealthy benefactors of the school. He's outwardly very serious, hard on his team but respectful of them. He doesn't put up with any unruly or unsportsmanlike behavior from his boys, at least not what he can see. He's very nice deep down, intellectual and funny, though he still struggles with American humor and English.

He adores you when he meets you, milking about with the other students before class. You seem genuinely social, and wanting to fit in. The idea someone could be so welcoming warms his heart. Deep down, he misses his home, and he misses the friends he once had. You're warm, and he likes that. Not to mention, you're a looker. He's embarrassed, especially if you're male, seeing as he never considered swinging the other way, and much less with someone younger. But he can't help but stare when your pretty tits bounce as you run, or the way those jogging shorts hardly conceal your bulge. He even pulled you to the side one to scold you for not wearing regulation gym clothes, before realizing they were and awkwardly sending you back into class. That was a moment of self-reflection for him.

He's not necessarily outwardly softer to you, you might even think he doesn't like you, given that he has you stay late to run or jump rope, or constantly pulls you into time out mid-game. It's all for your own good, trust him. He doesn't like the way some of the boys were looking at you, and he could tell Evan was a only a play away from trying to practically hump you while trying to 'get the ball'. He's made Harrison, who he loves as a player, run laps for talking to you for only a few minutes. He hates feeling like a jealous boy, but he can't help it. You make him feel young.

He establishes a private locker room area for you, since you're the headmasters kid and not an official student. Besides, you're clearly being harassed by the others! So, he's got a nice little closet for you, with a not suspicious air freshener that's not a hidden camera, and a private key only you have access to. (Technically that's true, he just has a bypass key for himself.) He'll snatch a pair of boxers or some panties, slipping them into his track coat for later. Eventually, he'll tell you he's worried you aren't able to catch up to the others, given that you arrived later and started the gym curriculum later than the others. He'll start having extra 'make-up' workouts with you, starting with stretching. One leg uo on the bar, you'll have to excuses his cold hand running along your thigh, or stroking over your chest as him just admiring how your strength and flexibility is evolving. He relishes the feeling of your body on his, groping you under the guise of training and resisting the urge to just slip aside your gym shorts and veg you to take him.

"Little star, part 'dem a little, there ve go." He keeps your legs parted as he works you into a position on your back, against the rubber mats the tumbling team had laid out. He lays just over you, pushing your legs back a little further with his arms, just far away enough to keep you from noticing his hard on, but enough to lightly press it against the plush swell of your ass. Good, let's just- fuck- hold. Let's hold."

☆ Kory Koffman, English teacher and part time librarian! The school outs so much effort into sports, both admin and students seem to forget about him. Hell, the library is used so little they fired the librarian, and he took it upon himself to try and care for the building himself. He's a sweet, shy man, who just wants to share his passion for literature with others. However, unlike Mr. Burton, he was never popular or famous, so he's content to keep to himself, but the loneliness does get to him.

When you wandered into his library one day, maybe looking for a book or seeking refuge from a hoarde ofadmirers, he was happy to welcome you into his little safe haven. He'll give you some warm tea from the little coffee machine he has set up, and sit you down. Let him help you find a book, or tell you about his creative writing class? He'd let you join, even late in the semester! It's not a very full class.

For the first time in his life, he finds himself craving the attention of another, of someone else's company, other than his books. He hasn't felt that need for connection since he was a boy, after his momma passed. He'll do anything to keep you there, and if reading isn't your thing, much to his chagrin, he'll add a DVD section to the library, but only good films and classic for you! No Adam Sandler, those movies are to overstimulating for poor Mr. Koffman.

As his feelings turn romantic, he's ashamed. You're a student, and he's a lonely old man, you deserve someone better, someone your age. However, the thought of you being with any of the many students who mock him in the halls or disrupt his class, the thought of hand you over to those-those imbeciles, hurts him. He wants you, and he's ashamed at the way his trousers go tight when you bend over to get a fallen book, or when you hand him his glasses after he misplaced them (again), the fact he just stares at your finger prints for awhile and refuses to clean the lens. He's not had sex in a long, long time, but he finds himself masturbating more than he ever did when he was younger. He'll watch library security footage openly, moaning and whimpering at his desk with no fear anybody will stop in, no one ever does but you. He wants you as his spouse, you already make his library, his home away from home seem brighter, imagine what you could do for his actual apartment.

"Oh, hello! It's good to see you, it's been a bit." He's a little bitter at that last statement, but adjusts his glasses and continues. "Just remember to stop by often, okay? I'd really, really hate to impose the late policy on you..."

☆ Atticus Critch, the schools latin instructor and head sponsor of student body, (not to mention the man in charge of detention), is a strict disciplinarian. He takes no nonsense from anyone, and despises the behavioral pardons given to boys like Evan or Harrison simply because they are athletes. Peter is obviously his favorite, and when he catches wind of the ways the boys around campus are speaking about you, he decides to take it upon himself to remove the distraction, by having Carter trail you and give you detention for minor inconveniences. Carter isn't particularly thrilled at always having to send you to detention instead of extorting you to get his rocks off, but he's hoping maybe he'll get to 'monitor' detention one of these days.

Initially, Mr. Critch has you doing small tasks, writing lines or organizing things, but soon he starts to see the appeal. If you're a good student for the most part, he's determined to keep you good, and away from all the vermin in this school. If you're bad, he's had plenty of experience in taming brats. He's open with his sexual desires, it his growing affection for you that makes him struggle.

If you've stayed out too late and broke curfew, you can spend detention on your knees, suckling his cock into the late hours. Maybe you've been running around with Tyler. He'll make you lay down on his desk and deny you your climax over and over again, asking 'if not making you cum' is what that boy does to you, never fully satisfying you. He'll make you beg to finish, and to promise you'll be good from now on.

"Come on, repeat it. Tell me you'll be good now, that you won't bother with BOYS-" He annuciates with a thrust, "When you have a man right here, whose willing to take time out of his day to discipline you!" One the amorous session is over though, he definitely softens, trying to prove he's more than a boy in many ways, including good aftercare. He'll dress your limp form back up in your uniform and walk you get you a cup of water from the fountain. "Only ten minutes till your detention is over, dear. Just sit there, take some time to reflect on how you got here." His tone is demeaning, but as he pets your scalp, his touch is so feather-light. Don't expect is to last into the next day though.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Slick

Pairing: General Marcus Acacius x Lucius Verus x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: A new day dawns and your soldiers are still with you. Warnings: ALL PORN NO PLOT. (Like they don't even move from the bed.) SMUT, MMF threesome, man on man action, soft dom marcus, subby lucius, fingering, anal fingering, unprotected p in v, anal sex, pussy eating, mutual dick sucking, lots of praise kink, oil, body massage, a call back to S2E3 but this time with DUDES, reality? get that out of here! we've got roman dudes covered in oil fucking, not beta read, very lightly edited because your girl wants these horny words exorcised out of her loins. Words: 4,000.

A/N: Hi. It me.🧍����‍♀️ I've returned to offer you more Gladiator II sex. Read their prior adventures here and here. I had this pretty close to done well before the RUSH of all of the Pedro/Paul content today, but tonight I finished and lightly edited it (please accept any mistakes and overly repeated words). This is the first time I've written this form of male on male, so I hope I did well. Also, shout out to @magpiepills for being my smut guiding angel for some wording, @yopossum for the pink donut pic (I swear, this is not a euphemism), @itwasntimethatdidit40 for being just as enthusiastic about these three as I am, and as always forever and ever @ohheypedrito for shouting at me in text when she read it. And now in the words of @luxurychristmaspudding...

Trēs Masterlist Masterlist

---

Morning dawns and your soldiers are still there. Marcus holds you tight, his strong arms still wrapped around you. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, resting easier in slumber. He awakens at your touch, stirring and tightening his arms around you. His brown eyes flutter open, his dark lashes framing his tired eyes that focus on your face.

“Angel,” he whispers, voice rought with sleep. His hand slides up your back, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer. His lips capture yours, kissing you deeply and slowly.

His tongue teases your lips, urging them to open as he deepens the kiss.

His other hand roams your body, slipping between your thighs, fingers ghosting over your folds. “Need you,” he rumbles against your skin.

"But first, I need to get you nice and wet for me," he purrs. His thumb circles your clit as he sucks a mark onto your collarbone.

You arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. Marcus chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin as he works his way lower.

You feel Lucius wake behind you, a soft gasp escapes his lips.

Marcus lifts his head, looking over at his young soldier. “Salve soldier,” he rumbles. “Watch. Watch as I fuck our angel.”

Lucius swallows hard, his cock already hardening against your backside. “Yes, M-master,” he responds.

The general shifts you onto your back, spreading your legs wide as he settles between them. His brown eyes lock with yours as he lowers his head, his warm breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck. You shiver in anticipation, your hands gripping the sheets.

Lucius props himself up on his elbows. His wide blue eyes watching every movement with his plush lips agape. You turn your head and watch him watch as Marcus dips a hand down between your bodies.

Marcus's thick fingers slide through your folds, spreading your wetness. He teases your entrance, circling it slowly before pushing two fingers inside. You gasp, arching into his touch as he pumps them in and out.

“Already so wet for me, aren’t you Angel?” Marcus groans against your neck.

“Yes,” you moan, staring into Lucius’s eyes.

"That's it," he growls. "Open up for me, open up for my cock.”

His fingers work you open, curling and scissoring inside you as his thick thumb circles your clit. Your hips rock against his hand, seeking friction.

Beside you, Lucius’s breath comes in quick pants, his eyes darting between your face and Marcus’s hand.

Marcus's fingers pump steadily in and out of your slick heat, stretching you for his thick cock. You writhe beneath him, soft moans falling from your lips as pleasure builds within you.

"Please," you whimper, your hands grasping at his broad shoulders.

He chuckles darkly, nipping at your earlobe. "Patience, Angel. I want you dripping for me first."

His thumb presses firmly against your clit, rubbing tight circles as his fingers pump you. Your back arches off the bed as waves of pleasure crash over you.

"That's it," Marcus growls approvingly. "Cum for me. Show my soldier how good I make you feel."

Your eyes lock with Lucius's as your orgasm washes over you. His blue eyes shine as he watches you fall apart underneath his General’s touch.

You whimper when Marcus withdraws his fingers. He holds them up in awe of how they glisten in the soft morning light, coated with your arousal. "Taste her," he commands Lucius, holding his fingers to the soldier's lips.

Lucius eagerly obeys, running his tongue along Marcus's fingers and moaning softly at your taste. Marcus's eyes darken as he watches, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

"Good soldier," Marcus praises, pulling his fingers from Lucius's mouth with a wet pop. "Now watch closely. See how I take our angel.”

He positions himself between your thighs, his cock brushing against you. You cry, grabbing at the skin of his strong arms desperate and needy to feel him inside you.

He grips your hips, holding you steady as he slowly pushes inside. You gasp at the delicious stretch of him, your walls fluttering around his cock as he fills you completely.

“So tight,” he groans, his eyes locked on yours. “So perfect.”

Lucius watches with rapt attention, his chest heaving quick breaths. His hand moves to grip his own hard cock, but Marcus stops him with a sharp command.

"No touching, soldier," Marcus says firmly.

Lucius obeys. His hands fisting in the sheets instead.

Marcus begins to move, his hips rolling against yours in steady rhythm.

He thrusts into you, his power stretching you with each deep stroke. His strong hands grip your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he guides you in a steady rhythm.

“That’s it Angel,” Marcus growls, his hips snapping against yours. “Take it, show my soldier how good I make you feel.”

You moan in response, your own hips grinding against his. With one hand on your thigh, Marcus lifts your leg higher around his waist. The change in angle causes him to hit that spot deep inside you, making a sharp cry escape your lips.

"You're mine,” he declares. “Mine to fuck, mine to pleasure."

Lucius whimpers softly. His blue eyes are dark with lust as he watches his general claim you. His cock stands proudly, leaking precum onto his toned stomach.

“And who do you belong to Soldier?” Marcus asks, turning his head towards Lucius.

“You, Master,” Lucius groans, his voice strained. “I belong to you.”

“Look at how much she loves it,” Marcus continues, his gaze never leaving yours as he drives deeper. “She can’t get enough.”

Your eyes dart to Lucius, whose breath comes in desperate gasps as he watches you both. His body trembles, his teeth clamp down on his bottom lip.

“You want to touch yourself, don’t you?” Marcus asks him, his voice taking on a more dominant edge.

Lucius nods frantically. “Yes, Master.”

“Not yet soldier, not yet.”

Marcus increases his pace, his thick shaft driving into you harder and faster. The slick sound of skin against skin fills the room, mingling with your cries of pleasure and his deep grunts of exertion.

Marcus senses your orgasm, his thumb finds your clit and begins rubbing tight circles. "Cum for me, Angel," he commands, his voice rough with desire. "Let my soldier see how good I make you feel."

The dual sensations of his cock and thumb push you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you in intense waves. You clench tightly around Marcus's shaft, milking it with every pulse.

"Good girl," Marcus praises, continuing to thrust through your orgasm.

Beside you, Lucius whimpers, his hands fisting the sheets tightly as he watches you come undone. His cock twitches against his stomach, leaking steadily.

As your orgasm starts to ebb, Marcus slows his movements. With a groan, he pulls out of your still quivering heat. You whine at the loss, feeling empty without him filling you.

Marcus settles on his back next to you, his cock still hard and slick with your orgasm. He reaches over and grabs the oil cannister.

“Rub me, both of you,” he commands in a low voice, shifting slightly to make room for Lucius beside you.

Your hands tremble slightly, your body still overwhelmed by the orgasm Marcus just gave you, as you take the cannister from his grasp. The smooth glass feels cool against your skin as you pour a generous amount of golden oil into Lucius’s outstretched palm before you trickle a stream of oil down Marcus’s broad chest.

His deep brown eyes move between you and Lucius, something akin to adoration flashes quickly through them.

Your hands glide over his broad chest, Lucius takes care of his strong legs.

Marcus’s body is peppered with scars from his many battles, your hands soothe each mark.

His skin almost glitters in the light of the rising sun. Every curve and ridge of his body gleams like he’s made of bronze.

Lucius’s hands glide over Marcus’ toned thighs, working the oil into his skin.

Yours and Lucius’s hands worship the General’s body, your eyes fixated on his cock, standing hard and tall in between his thighs, twitching.

His body is soon covered in golden oil, slicking down his body. You slide your hand down his stomach down to his cock, looking up at his eyes for silent permission. He grunts and nods, raising his hands to cradle the back of his head.

You trail your fingers along the length of him, mesmerized bu the way his skin shimmers under the oil. Lucius’s eager hands mirrors your movements.

“More,” Marcus orders, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel both of you on me.”

He looks like a Roman statue posed like this. His body covered in shiny oil, his posture relaxed and strong.

“Show me how much you want it,” Marcus commands, his tone low. “Both of you.”

You kiss your way down his chest, your lips tasting the rich taste of the oil on Marcus’s body. You reach his thick cock, pulsating with need and look at Lucius in silent communication. You both share a smile before leaning in closer together, your breaths mingling as you let your tongues dance around the head of his shaft, both of you savoring the taste of him.

“Fuck,” Marcus breathes, his voice gravelly as he watches you both work in harmony. His gaze flickers between your mouth and Lucius's like a predator reveling in the beauty of his prey. “Worship me.”

You take turns tracing your tongues down the length of Marcus’s throbbing cock, his hips jut up with a hiss with each gentle flick and teasing spiral.

You take turns alternating between drawing your lips around the head of his cock and kissing up his shaft, each time making sure to lock your gaze with Marcus's. His brown eyes blaze through yours, your body feels alight with satisfaction knowing how much you affect him.

Lucius leans closer, his breath mingling with yours, and together you both envelop Marcus's cock.

Marcus lets out a deep chuckle as you and Lucius moan around his cock before he reaches down, gripping Lucius's chin to draw him closer. Their eyes lock before Marcus pulls him up into a heated kiss that makes your whole body shiver. Their lips meld together, grunts and groans escaping their lungs. You watch, enamored by the two strong men getting lost in each other. Marcus’s large hand glides down Lucius’s back, pulling him closer. The General and his soldier entwined in raw desire for each other.

Marcus pulls away, glancing down at you. “Look at her,” Marcus breathes against Lucius’s lips, his voice thick and primal. “She’s waiting for us.”

Lucius’ blue eyes are filled with lust when he looks at you.

“Sit on me Angel,” Marcus orders.

You swallow hard, feeling a rush of heat bloom across your skin at the command. With a slight nod, you shift your body, feeling the slick oil coating your skin as you rise from your spot and position yourself above Marcus.

You meet his gaze—intimidating yet tender—as you slowly lower yourself on him, feeling the broad head of his cock press against your entrance.

You pause for just a heartbeat, relishing the tense stretch of him him. Lucius watches intently, kneeling next to Marcus on the bed.

“Go on, Angel,” Marcus urges, his voice a low rumble. “Take what you need.”

With a deep breath, you sink down further.

“Gods, you feel incredible,” Marcus groans, his hands gripping your waist firmly, guiding your movements as you settle fully upon him. “Now move.”

You lean forward, resting your palms on his broad chest for balance, gripping his skin as you slip from the oil, your breath quickening as he begins to rock his hips beneath you.

Lucius watches, shifting closer, his hands wander over his own body, slick with oil.

Marcus presses his heels into the mattress, driving up into you with powerful thrusts that makes you see stars. You moan loudly as you feel Lucius inch closer, drawn to you.

“Faster,” Marcus growls, his hands tightening on your waist, urging you to pick up the pace. You obey willingly, relishing the way his cock stretches you open, filling you completely as you rise and fall atop him.

“Good girl,” he grunts, his muscles tense beneath your palms as he drives deeper, brushing against that sweet spot inside you. “You’re doing so well.”

You’re a mess of oil and sweat, Lucius’s hands run along the curves of your breasts before he leans down and takes one into his mouth. You gasp at the sensation of Marcus thrusting beneath you while Lucius’s warm mouth envelops your breast, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak of your nipple.

“Take it all, Angel,” Marcus growls, his voice thick with approval as he watches Lucius worship you. “Touch her soldier, help me make her cum.”

You ride Marcus harder as Lucius slides a hand down your torso, tracing a path until his fingers reach your sensitive clit. You gasp at the sensation, your body responding to the touch of both men.

The room is filled with the sounds of your moans and the wet slap of skin on skin as you ride him, Lucius’s fingers pressing and circling your clit.

Your orgasm flows through you, your legs shaking, head thrown back, eyes fluttering shut as you cum on Marcus’s cock.

Marcus's grip on your waist hardens, guiding you through the tremors of your release as he thrusts upward with primal intensity. His breath comes in ragged growls, his body flexing beneath you with feral energy as he watches you unravel.

Lucius doesn’t relent either, his fingers still circle your clit, pulling every last shudder from your body as the waves of your orgasm still crash into you.

Your hips undulate atop Marcus, your voice ragged from screaming and moaning as you still ride the earth-shattering orgasm.

Lucius’s mouth moves to your lips, kissing you deeply, swallowing all of the sounds that escape your throat.

“Lay back, Angel,” Marcus instructs, as he shifts beneath you. You feel his hands release their grip just enough to allow you to move. You push yourself up from him, feeling the slickness of oil coating your skin as you slide off his cock, a gasp escapes your lips at the sensation of emptiness. You turn and lay back upon the soft bedding, the fabric cool against your heated skin.

Marcus stands, heading over to the amphora and pouring himself a glass of wine.

"Soldier, attend to her," Marcus orders. "Lick up the mess I've made of our Angel."

"Yes, Master," Lucius replies eagerly, quickly shifting to settle between your spread thighs.

He gazes up at you reverently for a moment before lowering his head and running his tongue along your slit, lapping up your wetness. You moan softly, threading your fingers through his dark hair. His tongue delves deeper, thrusting into you and moaning at the taste.

Marcus watches, his eyes dark with lust as his soldier pleasures you. He takes one last drink of wine before reaching for the vial of oil, pouring some into his hand. "On your knees, soldier," he commands gruffly. "Present yourself to me."

Lucius obeys immediately, raising his hips while keeping his mouth latched onto your core. Marcus moves behind him, spreading Lucius's firm cheeks to reveal his tight hole. The general drizzles the warm oil down Lucius's crack, letting it trickle over his entrance.

He shivers at the sensation, a muffled moan vibrating against your cunt. Marcus sets the vial aside and begins massaging the oil into Lucius' skin. His thick fingers rub firm circles around the tight ring of muscle, coaxing it to relax.

Lucius moans into your wet heat as Marcus slowly pushes a finger inside him, working the tight ring of muscle open.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, holding him close as his tongue adores you.

"Get nice and loose for your general's cock,” Marcus rumbles approvingly, pumping it in and out.

The soldier's hips jerk, grinding back against Marcus's hand as he eats you out with renewed fervor. His tongue swirls around your clit before sucking it between his lips.

"Ohh," you cry out. Pleasure crashing over you as Lucius works you higher up the cliff.

Marcus continues fingering his soldier open. "Look at you, so eager for it," he praises. "Such a good soldier, servicing our Angel while I open you up."

Lucius rocks back to meet each thrust, whimpering and moaning into your slick folds. His tongue moves erratically against you as Marcus takes him apart with his fingers.

Marcus gazes down at you as he opens Lucius with his fingers. Your thighs begin to tremble, another orgasm building rapidly under both men’s attention.

“Close… close,” you moan out, your hips rolling to meet Lucius’s movements.

"Cum for him, Angel," Marcus commands, voice deep and authoritative. "Cum on my brave soldier's tongue."

With a sharp cry, you shatter, inner walls clenching rhythmically as ecstasy crashes over you. Lucius moans deeply, lapping at your release.

“Beautiful,” Marcus admires, pouring oil on his hard cock and stroking it. “Now Angel, watch as I take my soldier.”

Marcus grabs Lucius by the hips and with one swift, possessive motion, he sheaths himself deep inside Lucius. Both men gasp, Lucius buries his face into your thigh, his hands gripping the bedding as Marcus starts to thrust, deep and slow.

You feel each powerful thrust with each tremor that moves through Lucius against you.

You watch in awe, heart racing, as your General begins to claim his soldier.

“Take it, soldier,” Marcus’s voice is a low rumble against the backdrop of Lucius’s soft whimpers. “Show our Angel how well you take me.”

You grab Lucius’s chin, tilting it up to look him in the eyes, staring into the ocean of blue gazing back at you filled with waves of admiration and arousal.

You watch as power and submission join, filling the room with a symphony of skin slapping against skin and sounds of shared pleasure.

“More,” Lucius gasps, his body arching towards Marcus, urging him to give more of himself. He takes your breath away, vulnerable and fierce beneath Marcus’s strength.

Marcus responds with a feral smile, increasing his pace, each thrust hammering deeper into Lucius, pushing them both closer to that cliff.

“Let her hear you,” Marcus urges, his own breaths growing ragged. “Let her hear how good I make you feel, soldier.”

“Angel,” Lucius cries out for you, his voice raw and needy, his eyes staring into yours. His muscles tense and flex with each thrust that rolls into his body.

Marcus looks at you, his strong brow furrowed in determination as he spits in his hand and leans forward, wrapping his arm around Lucius's waist to firmly grasp his soldier’s cock.

“Feel it,” Marcus grunts. Lucius's eyes flutter shut, his mouth falling open in a silent moan. He squeezes your thigh harder, pulling you closer grounding himself.

You lean in closer, mesmerized by the scene unfolding before you, wanting to be closer to Marcus. He reads your body like a battlefield.

In one fluid motion, he lifts Lucius against his chest while still thrusting inside of him. Gasping, Lucius clutches at Marcus's larger hands and holds them tightly.

“Come here Angel,” Marcus grits, his tone dropping an octave sending goosebumps up your spine. “Help me make my soldier cum.”

You obey without hesitation, moving quickly to kneel in front of the two soldiers. Your fingers glide over Lucius’s taut chest, tracing the muscles that ripple beneath your touch as Marcus continues to claim him, thrusting deeply, rhythmically.

“Just like that,” Marcus growls, locking eyes with you. “Touch him Angel.”

Your heart races as you curl your fingers around Lucius’s cock, stroking him in time with Marcus’s thrusts. Precum drips out of the tip, your hand gliding smoothly along his length.

“Together,” he commands, his voice a possessive whisper that resonates in your core. “Let’s take him apart.”

You lean closer, your breath ghosting over Lucius's ear as you begin to quicken your pace. His body responds in kind, every stroke of your hand pulling more desperation from him.

“Angel,” Lucius groans, his voice trembling with need. “Master.”

You lean forward, sealing your mouth over his, kissing him. You swallow down his moans as Marcus drives into him, each snap of his hips against him a declaration of his dominance.

“Don’t hold back,” Marcus growls, the echo of his voice vibrating off the walls of your bedroom.

Lucius's breathing grows more shallow against your lips. You hold onto him tighter, mimicking his every movement as he responds to the General's touch. He pulls away, biting down on his lip before begging. "I can't... I can't keep this up much longer."

“Cum then soldier,” Marcus demands. “Let it all spill for our angel.”

“Cum Lucius,” you whisper, your fingers tightening and twisting. “Cum for us.”

His breath hitches and with a low moan, Lucius breaks, his body tensing and tightening. “I’m—” he gasps, eyes squeezing shut as his length throbs in your hand.

Marcus thrusts harder as his soldier’s body quakes against him. With a battle cry that echoes, Lucius spills himself hot and thick across your fingers. You caress Lucius’s flushed face, brushing away the sweat that formed on his brow. He pants, his eyes rounding with affection as he stares into your eyes.

“Good soldier,” Marcus grunts before letting out a primal growl and pulling out. “Lay with our Angel,” he commands, “I want you to watch me cum for you.”

You spread out on the mattress, Lucius collapses next to you, his chest heaving, his blue eyes still glazed with pleasure.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Marcus growls, standing tall looming over the bed. He towers over both of you, golden skin glistening in the soft light, each muscle defined as he strokes himself. “Watch me cum for you two.”

His hand works his length, teasing the tip as he stares down at you both. Lucius's hand finds yours, intertwining his fingers with yours as both of you watch Marcus in awe.

“Tell our Angel what you are,” Marcus demanded.

“Y-Your obedient soldier,” Lucius answers, never breaking eye contact with his general.

“And what do we crave?” Marcus growls, voice deep and rumbling.

“Our Angel, sir,” Lucius responds, his voice hoarse with need.

Marcus grunts, his grip on his cock tightening as he thrusts his hips forward.

“Marcus,” you moan. “Cum for us, General.”

It is as if his name on your lips was enough to shatter him. With a guttural groan, Marcus’s hips buck forward, his thick white ropes flying over both of you, hot and sticky against your skin.

“Angel,” he growls, collapsing onto the bed and crawling to lay next to you.

He catches his breath, his large chest heaving up and down.

“Kiss her soldier,” he sighs, grabbing you and pulling you close against his sticky skin. “Taste my Angel’s lips for me.”

You giggle as Lucius nuzzles his nose against yours and chases your mouth, needy and desperate for your kiss. You moan as his soft lips part yours and taste all of his desire for you.

Marcus chuckles softly behind you, rumbling against your back. “Just like that,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse and satisfied. “Let her feel how much we crave her, and then, we shall rest and bathe.” 

[snowvies]

Mr. Badgley

Penn Badgley x Fem!Reader

summary: you can't stop thinking about your married piano teacher, Mr. Badgley. and one day he slides under the instrument to show you how much he's been thinking about you too.

wc: 1k

cw: age gap (reader 19, Penn late thirties), cheating, piano teacher x student, pussy eating, fingering, female masturbation

Sundays are your favorite days, especially ones like this when the clouds hang low with a murky swirl in the sky. You're nineteen, and college is kicking your ass but you promised yourself you wouldn't think about the papers due when you're here, at Mr. Badgley's house.

You found his ad on craigslist, piano lessons..fifty bucks an hour you would've scrolled past it until you saw him, and his family. You felt safer in a random man's house when his wife and newborn baby were in the same room with you. So you started going there, ever since your freshman year.

Your raggedy car rolllsss to stop and you get out to see the lonely house, picked apart to be perfect, not a single thing out of place... except yourself.

His wife answers the door a few minutes after knocking, the cold biting your bare legs as you run in for warmth, completely missing her scowl at your lack of kicking the mat with your dirty boots.

Mr. Badgley offers you a warm smile, hair combed perfectly, sweater ironed and pants straight like every weekend. His eyes always look a little empty when you come. His wife jingles her keys around her finger as she readjusts the baby on her hip

"I'm going out, be done when I'm home" the same line. Every week. You smile her way but she doesn't pay mind to it, leaving you and her husband to play. you turn to Mr. Badgley but he's already walking to the connecting living room of the tiny house, sitting on the worn bench as he slides the fallboard up.

You sit next to him as he wears an excited smile, when he's like this, playing with you, it doesn't seem orchestrated by his wife. Every move he makes is analyzed by her, except this. The only reason he's allowed to do this is because they needed the extra money.

"Let's start where we left off last week, yes?" he asked and you nodded, you inhaled the mixture of musk and old books that surrounded the pianist as he began the background cords. his eyes are on you, they shine as his spine relaxes into the music and you begin your part. fingers dancing over keys as you try to remember the pattern

Your eyes squeezed shut once you messed the keys up. He smiles softly and lets a laugh out of his nose at your reaction

"Like this," his larger palm rests on top of yours as he guides your fingers, you nod and try again.

Soon enough an hour passes and you both rise from the bench and you dig into your purse for the fifty bucks you crumpled into it this morning, but, warm hands slide on top of your shoulder and the older man shakes his head.

"No need" he grins and tries to send you off but you insist, grabbing the money but he pushes you out the door.

"I will not have you pay for something that I enjoy just as much, Y/n, have a lovely week" The door softly shuts and you're left stunned.

.

You roll around your dorm bed, restless as the man's words keep ringing in your head. Why didn't he let you pay?

Maybe you're being dramatic. But it isn't like the Badgleys are set either.

You shut your eyes in a huff, suffocating yourself in the pillow under you as you replay the keys in an attempt to lull you asleep

But it isn't just the keys you're thinking about...

It's how his hand guided yours, it's how he looked at you when it was your part to play, it's his scent, it's his being. It's driving you mad.

You arch your back slowly, fingers sliding down your body until you get to your aching core. slick-filled fingers rubbing yourself at the thought of your teacher's hands touching you, grabbing you, loving you.

You moan into the pillow, legs shaking as you cream around your fingers, the thought of him drives you wild.

So just how will you act the next time you see him?

.

Before you know it, it's Sunday and you're back at the Badgleys, with his wife announcing her departure and the formal greetings of you and your teacher, you're back at that bench, side by side.

He starts the cords, and you follow trying to calm your shaking legs as you think about what fueled you that night. You couldn't even look him in the eyes this session.

His hand softly squeezes your bare thigh and you look back at the man.

"You're completely off" he informs you and you don't think your face could get redder.

"I-I'm so sorry...let's try again" you panic but his thumb rubs loving circles on your flesh.

"You usually think the world ends when you mess up, but you kept playing this time, you're mind is somewhere else Ms. Y/n."

"Sorry Mr. Badgley" you murmur

"Talk to me, get it off your chest so we can get back to playing" he smiles and you nod slowly

"...Why didn't you let me pay last time?" you ask, he stops for a moment as the hand on your thigh now rests on his face as he thinks for a moment.

"I just feel like, something so pleasurable shouldn't be bought," he says above a whisper and you feel your entire face glow, and he must have noticed with how he laughs.

"Not those pleasures, Ms. Y/n" he smiles and you don't think you've ever been so embarrassed. But when his laughter stops, his eyes swirl softly into something darker, in that moment you feel exposed to every thought as he eyes you.

He stands, hands finding your shoulders

"Keep playing"

You take a shaky breath as your thighs begin to shake once more, fingers finding the keys as you start the song

"Good," he whispers, his scents overwhelming you now as you feel almost dizzy while playing, you barely notice how he slips under the piano.

"Mr. Badgley, what are you doing?" you gasp as his dark brown eyes gaze up at you

"Keep.playing" he says sternly, and with a swallow, you keep going

He kisses your knees and you feel yourself sticking to your panties as he spreads them apart.

He has a wife. He has a kid. What are you doing?

"You're doing great" he huffs, kissing your thighs, you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment as his fingers dance up to your panties.

He pulls them down slowly, your wetness sticking to the fabric before they are lost in his pockets

Your bare pussy is in front of your teacher's face as he rubs up and down your thighs taking a shaky breath in

You slam the keys as his tongue licks up your pussy, he moans into you before forcing you to scoot closer into his face, his hands wrapping around your ass as he slurps and moans at your cunt.

"Mr.- fuck" you cry, hands climbing to try and stop your moans as your hips buck up to hump his face

"You taste so so good" he groans, making out with your pussy as he sucks at your clit just to tongue fuck your hole

Hot tears flow down your face as he stares up at you, watching you come undone for him.

You shake around him, orgasm approaching closer with every lick, he sucks on your slit before adding a long finger to your hole. You throw your head back as he fingers you, flicking his tongue relentlessly as his finger curls inside you.

You feel him whine and moan against your pussy, and when you look down you see him gripping and grabbing at his hard-on as he eats you out. You cry as that sends you over and you cum around his finger

You're panting as he curls his fingers a few more times before shoving it into his mouth and licking you clean, you're shaking and wide-eyed as hair sticks to your face and he crawls out from under the piano

Right, weren't you two supposed to be playing right now? Isn't his wife about to be home and he's sucking his fingers because they still taste like you?

He helps you off the bench and you stare into the stained cushion but he turns your chin to him before kissing you deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue before breaking it off with a simple

"My wife is on her way...see you in our next session Ms. Y/n"

And you can't wait for next Sunday.

an: lmk how obvious it is idk anything about pianos. This is based on a dream I had last night 😵‍💫🖤 I hope you liked it <333

[kteezy997]

The Emperor's Wife// Paul Atreides

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, slow burn kinda

"That princess shall have no more of me than my name. No child of mine nor touch nor softness of glance, nor instant of desire." The promise of Paul Atreides as he ascended your father's throne was held true for some time. But his words began to falter in time, against his will.

He married you, but remained loyal to his concubine, Chani. But he did acknowledge that you had a literary nature, and he entrusted you to sit in on his council meetings as Emperor. The more time you spent around each other, the more you became companions, and the more he relied on your mind to help him keep a balance of things.

You noticed as Paul started to become more relaxed around you. He'd even have a laugh with you now and then. It was clear that he valued your friendship as much as your ability to write and make sense of things.

One day Paul joked that Chani was his wife of passion and you were his intellectual wife. Your feelings had started to form into deep admiration for your husband, so his words were course against your ears. Though you knew that this was the way it had to be, it wasn't any easier to hear him say it.

But there was a look from him, a look where he scanned you, slowly, from head to toe. Your special training had kicked in. You could feel it; it was desire. He thought his momentary glance would go undetected, but that was nary the case.

All the late evenings in the council room, all the discussions you had about history and his interest in your writings, it all bubbled up to his vow being broken. You caught his gaze in a meeting later, and his green eyes could no longer lie to you. He was curious and desirous of you. But he could not do anything about it. He simply could not act on it.

But you, on the other hand, were tired of the intellectual relationship. This feeling was different for you, and you never expected to fall for him. Your body ached, your skin burned for your husband. Even if it was just once, you had to have him.

You hated to admit to yourself the jealousy you felt toward his Fremen woman. You wanted to feel what Chani felt. Just one full moment of Paul's desire. You needed his touch. To exchange passionate breaths with him. To have the weight of the handsome Emperor on top of you. To have his eyes on you, and only you.

..........

You ventured to Paul's sietch, into the private apartment he shared with Chani. The Fremen in the village knew you, so they did not try to stop you, or persuade you to leave. They welcomed you with respect, as you were indeed Muad’Dib’s wife.

The room was quite plain and modest for an Emperor and his woman. The bed, however, looked cozy with glow globes on either side. The scent of cinnamon and coffee hung in the air, laced with the spice melange.

You hoped he'd come soon. You hoped he would be the first one in, and not Chani. You didn't know what to say to her, if that would be the case. She had always been pleasant toward you when you were around her, but you didn’t know if her attitude would remain the same if she knew you wanted to bed her man.

You hoped that he wouldn't be harsh towards you; that he wouldn’t be angry about you invading the space he shared with his concubine. You liked to think that you had broken his walls and exposed the tender side of him. You sat on the bed, waiting.

Finally, you heard footsteps approaching, there was a tired huff from the person outside the door, and you knew the voice instantly. Paul came in, pulling off his still suit the second he entered. He didn't see you at first. You saw his shoulders and chest as he rid himself of the rubbery material. He was strong, with hard muscles and pale skin with minor scars here and there.

You could smell the dirt and sweat that he carried. It did not deter you in the slightest, but made you more eager.

He could sense you there. You knew he could.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, without even turning to face you.

You took a shaky breath, then answered, "I wanted to see you, Paul."

He finished freeing his arms from the constrictive suit, turning to look at you sitting on his bed. "And why?"

You were excited just seeing his shoulders, but now you saw his naked chest, his hard pectoral muscles and small nipples. You nearly shuddered with need. "I-uhm," I want you. "I wanted to make sure that you saw how bright and beautiful the two moons look this evening. And maybe you'd like to see my latest Muad'Dib chronicle?"

Paul nodded, "Hm." He stepped over to the window, looking up at the moons, "They are quite beautiful tonight."

You rose from the bed, joining him by the window. You could really feel his presence now, as you usually didn't get quite this close to him. His scent was stronger, too. "I brought my latest writings. If you want to read."

"Sure. You may leave them here."

He was so polite, but never overly kind. He couldn't disrespect Chani. But you so wanted things to change between you and your husband.

"Paul, I really came here to talk to you about something."

He took his eyes off the night sky outside his window and looked into your eyes. "Go on."

Your heart started thumping in your chest, you cleared your throat. "Well, I do not wish to overstep, but I think you and I have both come to enjoy our time together. I think it is safe to say that we are good friends now." You got stuck for second as you got a close look of the sweat glistening on his skin in the glowing light of the dark room.

Paul softly smiled, giving you a nod to keep going.

"But, I need you to know that no matter how amazing the moons might be on a starry night, it is no match for the way I feel when I look at you."

His expression fell, and he shook his head, "Y/n, please. I am very flattered. I appreciate you, and I care for you."

You butted in, "I can sense that you desire me, Paul. You've already broken your oath. I know that you feel distant towards your concubine, and I wonder if it has anything to do with how you feel about me."

He chuckled, walking away from you, "I thought you said you didn't wish to overstep?"

"I cannot help it. I'm sorry. But you know my training." You genuinely didn't want to disrupt anything between him and Chani.

He ran his hand over his face, pushing away the exhaustion of the day, trying to make sense of his own feelings as well. "Y/n, you aren't wrong. Chani knows that my sentiments for you have shifted."

So he admits it!

"You haven't bedded her for weeks now, have you?" you prodded, carefully.

"No," he stepped closer to you, towering over you by several inches, "not that it is any of your business."

"I don't want to make you angry, Paul. But I have seen the way you look at me, the way you brush passed me during council. You've preferred spending more and more time with me lately." You took a step forward this time, just a foot's length away from him.

Paul let his guard down, knowing that you were right about everything. His face softened, and he brought his hand up to caress your face. His hand had been roughed up by the wind and sand if the desert, but you could still see yourself melting against it as he touched you.

Paul went on to say, "You should know by now how I feel for you. But it cannot be. I made a promise. I don't ever want to be cruel to you, my y/n." he licked his dry lips, and you noticed just how blue his eyes were as a result of spice addiction. "I did not marry you for things such as love or children, you know that."

"Yes, I know." you sighed, having heard that piece of information a hundred times during your marriage. "My husband, you are a loyal man. I admired you for that, but I don't wish for anything more than the same love that you have for your concubine. You can share that tenderness with me."

He said nothing, but kept his hand on your cheek, gazing at you so fondly.

You could sense him breaking for you. "Paul," you leaned closer, placing your hand on his exposed chest, "I have seen the way your eyes narrow at me when I bow before you as my Emperor."

Then, his hand wound tightly into your hair, and his lips were being smashed against yours. He pulled you against him, he moaned into your kiss. His hands were on your body, sliding up the curves of your hips.

Your body was electrified, you ran your hands through his hair, not caring how sweaty he was. The hunger was equal on both sides.

Paul pulled away suddenly, sighing as he turned away from you.

He was still wrestling in his mind, you knew it. "I need you." you said, melancholy taking over your tone as you started to believe he was going to refuse you completely, "I need my husband. I want to made love to by Muad'Dib." You went over to him, looking at his back you noticed a scar, larger than the others on his body. You wondered if the mark was result of a fall on a sand dune or maybe the consequence of riding the great sandworm. You reached out, cautiously running your finger along the scar.

He shivered at your touch, but he didn't shy away.

You decided that maybe this plan was fruitless, that he wouldn't, and never could love you the proper way in which a man loved his wife. "Paul, if you do not love me, I will leave now. You'll never see me come back to this place. I will accept being wrong. Things will go back as they were."

"No, please, don't go." he faced you again. He relaxed more, his body language and the look in his eyes was more at ease.

"Then stop me, my dear husband."

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar