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amaranthine-enihtnarama · 2 days

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Is This Desire? (Feyd Rautha x reader)

u know I had to tap in 🤭. reader is a noblewoman who has undergone bene gesserit training, there IS smut, there IS sexual tension, there ARE mind games, there IS dubcon (but not really 😉); quote found on Pinterest. None of the media besides the writing belongs to me, including quotes used at the beginning.

Happy Sunday 🤭 finally made it. Strong trigger warning for people sensitive to dub-con situations. There is a significant push and pull dynamic, be mindful of your peace.

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen and Tii Sanura Sur-Kar have been lifelong friends since the day they were betrothed as children—-a mutual coldness in the eyes inspired respect and appreciation between the two kindred spirits. On the day of the na-Baron’s coming of age, however, simmering tensions between the pair rise to an all-consuming firestorm as the young Baron attempts to finally act on the desires he has harbored for her, but there is a significant challenge: how he can manage to break past her impenetrable composure; the dispassionate mask of his treasured Bene Gesserit master?

the lovers.

“Love is an ancient force, one that served in its day but is no longer essential for the survival of the species.” -Bene Gesserit Axiom

***

“Do you truly think you could redeem such a beast?”

She smiled. “I know, I am allowing my affections cloud my judgment. But allow me an opportunity before his fate is sealed, Reverend Mother.”

The older woman stared her down through the sheer fabric cloaking her face. “You are a very sharp mind, but your youth may sway you against wiser judgment.”

The young sister smiled. “I will not lose sight of our mission, do not worry. I only wish to test a hypothesis.”

“Be wary of overextending yourself.”

“I would not shame you with such folly. I have no intention of losing control.”

After this, the Reverend Mother Superior was silent, ending the discussion. The Duchess rose, gave a respectful incline of her head, and departed.

No, she would not lose control. They had come much, much too far.

It was simply a mere experiment—-too much risk, and she would end it without hesitation.

She only hoped she wouldn’t have to.

***

Tii Sanura Sur-Kar ran through the subconscious of the na-Baron like a mantra. A dangerous liability, he knew, but considering it was the name of his bride, it was an indulgence he willingly succumbed to at every turn. It was like song, like poetry to him, neither of which he cared for terribly but she adored—if she was truly capable of such a feeling. His betrothed was a shrewd, charming woman. Never terribly moved nor affected, never troubled nor wanting. It hadn’t always been that way, but once she underwent her Bene Gesserit training, the risk-taking, jubilant playmate he knew as a child became a confounding and mysterious woman as the years passed. He was vexed by it initially; her disinterest towards what had once thrilled her, her fixation on scriptures and disciplines, her strangely hypnotic eyes, but he managed to adjust over time. After all, she was a noblewoman with duties and ambitions of her own, not a pet.

Still, she was his. The knowledge that she could not slip through his fingers sated his dissatisfaction with her frigidity. As the years passed, he managed to learn her ways. He was the only one who elicited a smile from her pursed, pillowy lips. He was the only one who could freely request her presence and, eventually, he was the only one—in the whole of the empire, he suspected—that could see the brief cracks in her sagelike mask. He experimented with the pressure points he could catch glimpses of. There was some satisfaction in pulling out the things she was so resolute to conceal from the world around them, to rouse moments of amusement, surprise (a rarity), or, his favorite, timidity.

He lost out on the last one a couple years ago, though, when he had pushed too far during a sparring match, and she surrendered too freely. Her eyes miraculously sparked with the horror of an uncontrollable and unexpected emotion. He felt it for a moment then—the way he could ignite her desire, the way she softened all over beneath his strength. The warmth of her breath, the softness of her skin; he had gotten a taste of it and had needed more ever since.

Thoughts for another time.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen knew how badly his future bride desired him. And vice-versa. It made Tii Sanura retreat as they grew older: more distance, more sarcastic jabs and intellectual pretensions. She knew him well enough to do exactly what would make him tick, to repel the low hum of want that had grown strong enough to overwhelm any other potential experiences they could’ve shared. There had been a time where they had come to an agreement of tentative friendship, but those days were burned to ash under the heat that dared to surface whenever the two were together.

The closer they got to coming of age the more her visits changed. She took longer to come by, and when she was there, she was terse with him if he could get her to speak. In all fairness, though, they did have chaperones since the sparring mishap. She was undoubtedly being discreet about whatever she felt about him, but he knew that despite all the suitors that attempted to sweep her away from him, he had secured her interest. Only he could tell, as difficult a riddle it was to continuously decode. The difficulty became less infuriating as he slowly understood the game being played—he kept testing her resolve and she kept coming back to prove it. The satisfaction he got from poking at her weaknesses barely rivaled hers from besting them. It was almost heartwarming if either of them possessed such a silly thing: he was still her favorite sparring partner.

Tii Sanura had not visited in this year, and it was an important one. The time of his coming of age and hers, the time of their union. He anticipated her usual distance, but not total silence. He tried to distract himself from the unpleasant feeling it caused but there was no cure on Geidi Prime to salve the absence of her silvery voice and sweet perfumes. His pets sufficed for more immediate needs, but there was no comparison. It troubled and fascinated him, the attachment he had to her. He would’ve rid himself of it if not for the fact she still sent him letters, and the fact she could not truly discard him like the rest fueled his want, his need, his hunger to claim his prize. His woman; his wife.

He would not show mercy on this day.

It was all that was truly on his mind as the slave women did their painting on his torso and he inspected his new blades. She would be there, she would be watching him in the arena, and she would be with him tonight afterward. Feyd intended to make the most of such ripe opportunities.

The games were amusing enough, but it was time for them to end. He had spent months envisioning it, the way he would finally best her, conquer her. The anticipation set his teeth on edge so badly it took all of his willpower to not run through slaves and servants like tissue paper. He would not lose his cool, he would adopt the discipline of his beloved, he told himself. He would not imagine ravaging her powerful, lithe frame, bruising her soft brown flesh, envisioning the pain and ecstasy he would conjure upon her unmoved, delicate face. He wouldn’t lose himself. He wouldn’t.

Not if he was going to finally make her do the same.

***

Tii Sanura was bored, as always. She was always amazed by how stupid everyone had to be to not tell the woman she presented them was a fiction. Did they not find her razor-sharp mind the slightest bit incongruent with the mask of a young noblewoman dutifully awaiting her marriage, tastefully enthused to kindly engage with anybody, who always had the perfect compliment and the most ego-stroking remark? Did they not see the void behind the artificial warmth in her gaze? Did they truly think every braindead comment they made amused her?

Of course not, save for a few pitiful monkeys, but the desire to believe the myth and participate bored her all the same. She had forced it into a microscopic container by now, but part of her still longed for the days of swimming naked in the swelling river during the rainy springs in Daquan, riding horses, hours of archery and combat training, studying the history of her ancestors, dressing up in her mother’s priceless gowns and traversing across the oasis-laden desert that surrounded their palace, much to her always gratifying horror. Oh, the tragedies of womanhood.

She was almost perfect. Almost. It made her want to dig her nails into her palms with frustration. The only source of weakness that remained was her betrothed. No matter how she wanted to or tried, the memories, her favoring of him would not fade away like the rest of her old emotions. She could not stay away no matter how much it infuriated her, humiliated her to her sisters. The little machine and her crush, they would tease her. It made her want to smear the walls and floors with their blood, the sounds of their smug tones and the superior air they held around her. It made her furious with her parents for not keeping her and Feyd separate in their youth. Now she had a soft spot in her armor, and the worst part is how he knew.

He provoked her, the bastard. He studied her every time they were together to the point where her only solution was to stop visiting so much. The only company in the galaxy she could stand was now her greatest vex. Just her luck.

The roaring of the crowd in the arena was deafening to her. She hated it, the sounds of fools cheering for their annual performance, for their na-Baron’s holy birthday. She could only imagine how small the Harkonnens’ subjects’ brains had to be to think God was anywhere near this place.

Despite the charade of his arena performance, it wasn’t a detractor from her future husband’s proficiency in combat. His strength was obvious, from the gradual sophistication of his movements, the calculation of his ink black stare…the way his body sculpted overtime to…distressing perfection. Weary of her sisters sensing where her thoughts wandered, she dismissed the thoughts as quickly as they came, calmly raising her binoculars to get a better view of the arena.

There was no relief: he was walking out into the center.

The cheers grew so loud they hurt her ears. Her body became rigid as she watched how he stalked onto the arena, claiming the praise and attention so readily offered to him. She spied the strength of his taut arms, his hands that held those blades of his with such natural finesse. He was a perfected killer, through and through. She stifled the sensation that dared to conjure in her stomach with a hint of spite. He was well enough in comparison to a Harkonnen, but he had room for improvement, she thought to herself, cooling down. But then, he did the absolutely unthinkable.

Her mouth dried as his head smoothly turned to look up at her and her Bene Gesserit sisters, blue eyes daring to twinkle something disastrously humiliating as they somehow fixed onto her from an impossible distance. He smiled and kissed one of his blades in gesture to her, then turned his attention to his uncle, bowing deferentially. It pleased the crowd greatly, and Tii Sanura wondered if these arena visits would one day fully strip her hearing abilities away as sisters chattered amongst themselves with a flat amusement Tii Sanura could not stand, but kept from feeling resentment towards. Such a small attempt to ruffle her golden feathers would not succeed. She watched on, her blood pressure stabilizing from its slight disturbance.

The bastard. He never bored her.

The pageant went on routinely enough; two hulking, delirious men stumbled out into the arena—the last of the House of Atreides. The name made the base of her spine tingle inexplicably. Perhaps it is her weakness of favor creeping up again, she would wonder; the thought of her childhood friend, his parents, Duncan Idaho and Gurney Haleck swept away in a harrowing night of fire and blood made her blood chill slightly. Perhaps it was the fragility of power in such a bloodthirsty imperial court; it often haunted her these days, knowing that the lives of her parents, her younger brothers, her ladies in waiting, herself, hung in such a precarious and delicate balance. Knowing the treachery of her near Uncle-in-law. The guarantees of disaster from moments of weakness. All the more reason to be perfect. One slip up, one ignorant action, and she could lose control of the game she was playing.

Still, those weren’t the answers, she knew that. It was something deeper. Something much more primal, animal. Like rats would escape pirate ships in those faraway ancient years. It felt wrong in a real way. But she didn’t let this trouble hover over her long. Only at night, in bed, did she contemplate the tension within her body. She knew it was not fear, so what was it? Perhaps if she could feel more she would know.

The arena’s cheers spiked in volume and Tii Sanura blinked, returning to what was conspiring beneath her. Feyd made easy work of the two drugged men, much to the delight of the ravenous crowds, but one still stood. And she meant that, too—he was standing. He was upright, alert and sharp. Her spine straightened in interest. Finally. Something interesting.

The two men squabbled briefly until Feyd realized the situation his uncle had placed him in. To anyone but Tii Sanura’s surprise and thrill, he removed his shield with a beaming expression. Her skin prickled slightly at the memory the motion conjured. When she came too close—much, much too close. It is agreeable for a Bene Gesserit to be able care for her partner, but what she felt that day was intolerable. The heavy burden of it on her sweat-slick chest, skin glistening with sweat and a few smears of blood, their muscles contracting and rippling as they fought each other with a heat that didn’t come from competition or bloodlust. Desire.

The word made her think of shuddering. There could be nothing more shameful, certainly. Especially for her kind—excellence was the only option, mastery was her only aim—her mother would have thought her a braindead whore if she had seen her that day. It almost made her think of feeling ashamed, but she only felt disgusted at her own laziness. It would never happen again.

Another swell of cheers. Tii Sanura left her mind again and focused on the battle beneath her—Feyd Rautha was at the mercy of his opponent’s blade, the point staring him directly in his eyes. She knew that he could only be laughing, and just to prove her point his blackened smile bloomed across his face. The man struggled against Feyd Rautha’a grip on the blade, trying to deal the finishing blow, but Tii Sanura knew her betrothed was well-equipped to handle such a minor threat. This was mere play to him. In an instant he had turned the blade onto the final member of House Atreides, sinking it into his chest.

She held back the sensation she felt watching it, the blade piercing her, imagining the heat of Feyd Rautha’s enthralling stare as he watched the life fade from his opponent. The man crumbled, and Feyd dropped him to the ground. He turned to his audience, raising his blade in victory. More roaring, almost like the oceans of Caladan themselves. She could hear their roaring. She could hear their ghosts.

He met her eyes again. She remained unfazed as she held it. He smiled slowly; it was not the same one as before. She knew that look, when she would politely excuse herself when he was getting a bit too touchy with one of his concubines—pets, he’d call them—and the air sparked with carnal heat.

Hunger. He was hungry. And he wasn’t looking anywhere else but her.

The sister closest to her jested softly. “It seems your betrothed is ready for you, Duchess Sanura.”

“He always looks like a dog in heat,” she cooly remarked, “There is no need to jump to such conclusions.”

Another one spoke again, Lady Margot Fenring, one she preferred out of her sisters, aside from the Reverend Mother Superior herself. She smiled bemusedly, eyeing her with a knowing that made Tii Sanura simultaneously relieved and discomforted.

“I hope you brought something for him to feast on, Duchess Sanura, if you do not want to be the one he devours.”

She allowed herself a bemused chuckle. “A fair assessment, I admit…”

She rose from her seat, undaunted by his dark stare. She slowly cocked her head, a small smirk quirking the corner of her mouth upright, forming a familiar wrinkle in her cheek and exposing her dimples. The arena roared with cheers at the interaction.

“I can assure you; he’s not the only rabid dog I’ve tamed. There will be no devouring.”

“You speak with the confidence of a girl, sister,” she warned.

The Duchess’s smile twitched into something genuine as she turned to look at her.

“He is a mere boy, sister. I have faced much worse than Feyd Rautha Harkonnen.”

“Worse,” Lady Fenring remarked quietly, “I will must admit, the thought of worse troubles one deeply.”

A soft laugh left Tii Sanura’s lips like a breath. “Wise words, I cannot disagree.”

She turned back to the arena. Feyd was gone, with only bodies and pandemonium left in his wake.

He certainly never bored her.

***

They never strayed from their ritual, no matter how much time had passed. Feyd-Rautha waited patiently in his betrothed’s quarters, eyeing the golden box sat in the center of her bed from a seat in the corner of the room.

She was taking a bit long.

He tapped his fingers against the metal armrest with some annoyance but he would keep his cool; she wasn’t going to toy with him this time. His mind wandered to the events of the arena—her icy smirk, her leisurely movements. The people of Daquan were so fascinating in their complete and utter absence of desire, of urgency. Understandable for a people that have hailed from paradise, but it still fascinated and confounded the Harkonnen.

They were certainly a high-achieving people, a quality clearly displayed in Tii Sanura. With no lack nor sense of imperial ambition, her people tended towards scholarly, military, artistic or spiritual pursuits—the level of wealth on their planet was immeasurable to anyone who had never seen it, alien to those who did not grow up in such sheer opulence. The Sur-Kar were among the eldest of the great families; their dynasty serving critical elements to the foundation of the empire of today—the first planet to possess Spice, although not nearly as potent or abundant as Arrakis. They were a sister planet, in fact, and although the differences in culture and landscape were obvious, they possessed the same treacherous deserts deeper in the Southeast of the planet—in images, the deep desert bloomed out like a scar.

Feyd broke out of his thoughts and let out a heavy sigh through his nose. Instead of pondering Tii Sanura’s planet, it would be preferable to have the woman herself before him.

As if she had heard his thoughts, she entered through the hissing doors, her shoulders far more relaxed than they should’ve been. She let out a heaving sigh of her own, starting to remove her many rich golden shawls and copper-colored garbs. He watched eagerly, unsure if she knew he was there, but he certainly wasn’t going to call attention to himself now. He took in the golden inscriptions on her dark brown skin with all of the awe his cold black heart could manage. She didn’t undress, much to his dissatisfaction, but his eyes feasted with on her bared arms and shoulders, glistening with golden passages from the Daquani’s various ancient scriptures—there were many to give strength, tenacity, to cool the mind and spirit, to bring fortune and blessings, protections, the like. Superstitions that were outdated in a world where chance had been long buried.

“Are you ignoring me, or have you forgotten how we meet,” he asked, gravelly voice creeping along the walls towards her.

She stopped, then slowly turned around. Her golden makeup shimmered on her eyelids, harmonizing with the undertones in the high apples of her cheeks. She glowed like a precious jewel. No matter who he crossed paths with, Tii Sanura was the most beautiful woman he had ever known. He would say across the galaxy, if it wasn’t such a foolishly sentimental thing to say. She would throw such a silly compliment back into his face with blasé amusement. Her dark, void-like eyes slowly came to life as a small smile formed upon her lips. He kept his cool resolve.

“Perhaps I do not care either way, My Lord na-Baron.”

He smiled in return, pleased with the biting humor in her tone.

“The only trick you couldn’t play on me is convincing me of such a lie.”

Her mouth barely twitched into a growing smile before she corrected her face and rolled her eyes.

“Oh dear, I see the rumored hereditary madness has set in. Just as I feared.”

He let the insult roll off of his back like water as he slowly rose from his seat, stalking towards her like one of those giant cats from her planet. She had one as a pet, he recalled. He spied the sketches she had drawn in a small pocketbook she used to carry with her when they were younger—he wasn’t sure what it was for—her mood had always improved after flipping through its pages.

“It’s been so long since you’ve visited. Are you afraid?”

Her face softened in amusement. “Yes. I am quite terrified. I’m trembling as we speak.”

“You misunderstand what I refer to.”

She frowned at him as she meticulously folded her shawls and scarves, the brushed past him to set them down in the very chair he had sat on.

“Is there something I’m not aware of?”

“Today is the day we are both of age,” he said, holding back any potential hint of emotion from the phrase, “Our marriage is imminent.”

She didn’t display any hint of being affected, but only nodded. “Hm. Yes, I know. Why would this scare me, exactly? I know everything there is to know about you. I doubt I will have any ugly surprises any other poor noblewoman would have in my place.”

Feyd Rautha studied her closely. She didn’t give it away, but she was bluffing. He could feel it.

“No bridal nerves,” he poked, gaze searingly meandering across her face.

She laughed, brushing past him again and placing a knee on the bed, leaning over to grab the golden box. “What, do you think I’ve been twirling my hair and kicking my feet as I fantasize about the wedding with my ladies in waiting? Or perhaps plucking petals off of flowers in the night, biting my nails down to the cuticle?“

She turned to face him, her voice lifting to a mocking octave. “He loves me, he loves me not…”

She handed him the box, her expression serene and friendly. “I know what is in store. Here.”

He took the box, breaking his intense stare on her and sliding it open. It moved with the unsurprising weight of solid gold—the wealth of these people was borderline obscene.

Within the midsize box was a strange red fruit and an ivory hilted knife, dotted with gemstones of a deep and bloody red hue. He opted to take the knife first—a butterfly knife, upon closer inspection. A hint of a smile formed on his lips, she remembered what he asked her for the last time they’d met; it had been so long even he’d forgotten. In combat, it was obviously useless; he had asked for the gift with the hidden intention of having something equally as tangible as her when she was absent, with the hope she would stop haunting his thoughts if there was a reminder of her readily at his fingertips instead of memories and dreams.

Her eyes held a satisfied glint at his obvious pleasure. “Do you like your birthday gift?”

He looked to her, a devilish grin forming on his face. “Is this all?”

She ignored his suggestive remark with annoyance. “I pray to the gods one day you will manage to finally utter the words thank you.”

“I appreciate this, Tii-Tii.”

She seemed to stiffen a bit at the sound of her nickname, and she broke her gaze from his, moving away.

“Get out, I’m going to change.”

His grin widened playfully. “Certainly you still don’t intend to feign decency now; I am your husband, after all.”

She let out a scoff. “Near husband. I’m not asking again.”

Tii Sanura was the only woman he obeyed.

It didn’t take long for her to have changed and join him in the hall. She refused the assistance of their slaves or servants, insisting on dressing and bathing on her own. He suspected her being wary of constant eyes, but the reason for such a reason wasn’t very clear. He later came to the much more obvious conclusion that she was disgusted by them.

Ever modest, she looked more Bene Gesserit than before in the black gown she had put on: long sleeves that poured past her hands, a hood that cloaked her entire head and face from unwanted view. Of course, the fabric shimmered, as did everything from Daquan. Beauty and Tii Sanura did not wander far from one another. The dress was not stingy with her figure, and Feyd took in the curve of her hips with painfully restrained fervor. He looked away when she eyed him under the glowing light that hovered overhead between them. She brandished the fruit from her sleeve, barely containing it in her palm.

“We’ll need a bowl, you eat the seeds.”

He made a face. “You want me to chew on seeds?”

“I thought you were of age,” she chided, “You whine like a child.”

He shot her a look, and she raised her eyebrows an inch or two, eyes glistening with humor. She loved to annoy him when they were left alone together.

“So sensitive all of the sudden! Perhaps I do need to visit more often, these beaten dogs of yours coddle you.”

“It’s respect,” he corrected with some edge, “At some point you will actually need to show it to your husband.”

She only smiled more, knowing his bluffs of retribution. “Delicate baby boy.”

His eyes lingered on her mouth for a moment, making him slow down their pace to his quarters. Feyd’s jaw clenched as a vision of putting her in her place against the wall burned through his mind. He fought it as quickly as it had come, shaking his head with a slight chuckle as he broke his hot stare. By the time it passed, she had stopped her smiling and was looking away from him, having clearly gleaned what had crossed his mind. The weight of their silence made them start walking again—perhaps sharing the hope of escaping it, even for a brief moment of relief.

He cleared his throat, and the collar of his shirt suddenly felt tight, making it hard to swallow. She tossed the fruit in the air as they winded through the halls of the Harkonnens’ underworld palace, the occasional flashes of white light from the fireworks giving brief reprise from the heavy shadows around them. So much of it felt like a strange dream to Tii Sanura, with all of the darkness and high, shadowy ceilings. She could never get used to this strange, colorless planet. At home, the rich golden suns shone through every window and crevice, kissing her people’s brown skin of various shades. A far cry from the albino appearance of Harkonnens under their black sun.

She eyed Feyd-Rautha discreetly—when they first met on Geidi Prime, she was convinced her betrothed was a ghost. It was one of the few frights he had ever gotten over on her. Before her training, he could sneak up on her and surprise her, getting a laugh out of her high-pitched squeak, but those days had passed. But, once they had made it inside, she saw the fine quality of his features, the pleasing peach-colored hue of his pale skin. His eyes went from terrifying pools of ink to a keen soft blue stare, and soon she felt luckier than most of her peers with the looks of her betrothed. If directly asked (and with enough honey wine), Tii Sanura could not lie about the fact that her betrothed possessed beautiful qualities about his appearance. The older they got, the more he grew into them and the more handsome he had been becoming. It made the idea of intimacy less tolerable and more intriguing.

He felt her stare and looked at her from the corner of his eye, making her look away. She shoved the feelings blooming in her stomach into the smallest box she could and willed it away.

“You still have no qualms about marrying me,” he questioned, gaze now fixed on her hood.

“No, of course not. You’re the only person I can barely stand out of the great houses. Everyone else is just too stupid. I’d end up killing him one way or another—gods forbid such an animal would ever try to touch me, it would be more messy than my parents would be able to overlook.”

His ears perked, and a smile played on his lips. “And if I were to touch you?”

“You have touched me,” she replied loftily, “Or have you blocked out the memories of me beating you into a pulp to salvage your pride?”

She looked up at him with a wicked glint in her eye, eager to pounce on an opportunity to shift the mood to something else. Feyd stole a glance at the expression, then scoffed lightly.

He had half a mind to grab her, hold her down, and have his way with her just to see how she reacted. He knew better than to force himself onto her—he’d be kissing his gravestone if he tried—that wouldn’t bring him the pleasure he sought. She wanted him, he knew this. Her humiliated surrender to her need was what he truly hungered for. He wanted the power to unravel her.

She sighed, tossing the fruit again. He started to think of how he was going to begin as they neared his quarters, passing the guards, who Tii Sanura pointedly ignored.

His pets rose in excitement as he entered, but then retreated at his companion’s presence, giving defiant black-eyed stares. Her gaze shifted to them, hiding her expression from his face, and within mere moments they had retreated to the same corner as the slaves. He didn’t know when or how, but she had made her dislike of them very obvious when they were teenagers. He had to replace one of them in the aftermath of this dislike being shown, but never said she was jealous. She didn’t even act particularly troubled by them, but she was clearly revolted by their existence, and, he suspected, their purpose for their na-Baron. After her training with the Bene Gesserit the flashes of proof that she claimed him as he did were resigned to memories. But he didn’t believe they had vanished. Her nose wrinkled slightly in pointed distaste but she addressed Feyd cooly.

“Have you forgotten your manners? You didn’t have your quarters cleaned for your betrothed’s visit?”

He smiled at her, amused by her inexplicable temperance. “Do my darlings still bother you, Tii-Tii?”

“Remove them,” she commanded immediately, eyes fixed on the bald servant woman. “Take them for a walk, or whatever those things do.”

The woman straightened up from cowering under her haunting gaze, ushering the three women from their position and leaving the room. Her eyes moved to the servants cowering in various corners, eyeing her warily.

“You may leave,” she told them.

They quickly filed out, heads bowed and shoulders slumped. Feyd almost wanted to laugh, but knew better than to provoke her—an incensed Tii Sanura with mind control abilities was more dangerous than any atomic arsenal that could be launched at him.

He was glad to have such a woman as his wife.

She clicked her tongue, shaking her head as she lowered her hood, face glowing softly in the low, sparse light of the na-Baron’s room. He watched her with barely cloaked intrigue, freeing his throat from his collar as he moved towards her with a light smirk. She seemed oblivious to his demeanor as she continued to reprimand him.

“I’m not surprised by the barbarism your relatives display, but I do expect some semblance of class from my husband.”

“Near husband,” he corrected, stalking up behind her and placing his hand on the small of her back, “Or does your jealousy make you forget?”

She chuckled, moving away from his touch unceremoniously. “I am not jealous of filth. I am tolerant of your Harkonnen ways, but it is unsightly. Hopefully spending time in my court will help refine some of your rougher edges…although I’m not holding onto much.”

He watched with sharp eyes as she took a bowl off of a sleek black table, eyed it, and, after deciding it was clean enough, sat down on his bed and made a gesture for him to sit with her. Gladly.

“You know my pets eat out of these,” he lied, eager to tease a reaction out of her.

“Not yet, obviously,” she dismissed, “Whatever poor bastard’s their lunch just got a few more hours.”

She brandished a small black knife out of her sleeve and handed it to him with a sigh. He chuckled, but took the knife as she carefully undid the barely visible labyrinth of fastened clips and buttons that had apparently held her gown together. He watched her with interest as he sliced the fruit.

“Too lazy?”

“Too expensive,” she clarified, gesturing to her outfit with some annoyance, “I swear, my mother’s trying to drown me in fabric...”

The hood and sleeves were simply elements of a cloak that covered her actual outfit. Feyd was feeling his appetite sharpen by the second. It would prove modest to anyone else, with loose, flowing trousers and a woolen, long-sleeved tunic, but for the Daquani, especially one of her standing, he knew that what he was seeing before him was absolutely not for anyone else’s eyes but his. It was just then he observed her braids had been taken down from their elaborate updo she had at the arena—when, he didn’t know—as they gently spilled over her shoulders and framed her foxlike face. She sighed again, watching him skillfully remove each juicy seed from the fruit’s pale flesh.

“You should squeeze it,” she told him casually, curling her legs up next to her onto the bed, “The seeds will fall out.”

He paused, glancing up at her serene, delicate face before turning the fruit over and squeezing it firmly. Tii Sanura watched his hand contract around it, the seeds spilling out into the bowl as he crushed it in his grip. She felt it again; the heat that set her ablaze from head to toe the final time they’d sparred. It had been then, when he had her on the ground, the flat of his blade pressed against the hot pulse that flowed down her neck, that same hand pinning her wrist to the ground with iron-like strength as their faces brushed dangerously against each other, that she realized they were becoming a man and a woman intended to be married and no longer the youthful partners in crime she could easily maintain a satisfactory internal distance from. It was then she became aware of a new weakness, one that caught her by surprise—she never thought it possible to see him in such a way, but there she’d been, flushed in an immeasurable amount of places, wanting to feel more than his blade against her skin.

There was not a feeling more taxing, more tenacious than desire. She could feel it blooming in her stomach with dread that she put all her will into tempering. His eyes were boring into her in a way that made her want to run away, retreat, but she refused to show such a pathetic display of weakness. He managed to get all of the seeds out, discarding the fruit out into the hall where the servants remained, flinching at his motion before he returned to her, sliding both sides of the blade along his tongue to lick off the juice. She stole a brief glance at the motion, but remained unaffected, her mask solid.

“Hm; what is this?”

“My uncle gifted me some recreated seeds they made in his laboratory. Pomegranate is what they called it.”

“Strange name.”

“All dead languages sound strange if you don’t put down your knives long enough to study them,” she subtly reprimanded.

A soft laugh passed through his nose as he returned to her side on the foot of his silken-sheeted bed.

“Tii-Tii, aren’t women from your planet meant to be less…annoying?”

“I wish I could ask the same about the men from yours.”

The juice of the pomegranate seeds gradually coated their tongues as they chewed on them and continued to make playful jabs at the other.

“I want a pleasant wife,” Feyd proclaimed with the gravity of a command, “A respectful one.”

Obedient was a far-fetched fantasy.

“If you want a pleasant and respectful wife, then you must please and respect her,” she said with the impersonal tone of a proverb, “You must plant seeds to harvest what you desire.”

He eyed her quizzically as she continued eating pomegranate seeds. She didn’t respond to the question in his stare, in fact, she seemed to be avoiding his gaze altogether.

“Tii-Tii,” he began slowly, “It’s unlike you to avoid a subject.”

He watched her shoulders square off with interest. Perhaps he had more leeway over her than he anticipated.

“I don’t—“

“We both know playing coy isn’t a convincing look on you,” he interrupted, a wicked smile forming on his face.

“Whatever you wish to speak about, I will speak on,” she said, “But I must admit I don’t know what you want to discuss.”

“The consummation of our marriage.”

She didn’t miss a beat, tilting her head with a shrug. “Yes, a necessary duty. It will be fulfilled, I will give you heirs. I can guarantee no difficulty in the…process.”

Upon finally meeting her betrothed’s gaze, Tii Sanura fell silent. The heat of his stare was unmistakable, and a shiver went down her spine. This couldn’t happen yet, she thought to herself, no overextending.

“Of course, it will wait until our wedding night,” she clarified, testing the waters of his mood, “Anything beforehand would be improper.”

He didn’t answer her, only took the bowl in his hands and lifted it to her mouth.

“Spit them out.”

Hunger. It was burning off of him so intensely she could feel it against her cheeks, which were growing more flushed by the moment. She stared at him in an oppressively long silence before her eyes shifted away to the floor, then gradually met his again. She was blushing, he realized.

“Feyd, what are you doing?”

Her voice had become much more softer, confused. It made him want to pounce, but that wouldn’t do him any good, not when he was getting her where he wanted her. His silence in response weighed down the air around them with what felt to her like tons—she was cornered and she knew it. There were two options: she could fight him off and swat him away, which would anger him, but he could not resist her Voice’s commands. The other one she dare not think of, lest she forget herself. Slowly, she spit the seeds out, watching him a bit nervously. He couldn’t tell she was nervous, of course, no one could, but he had the air of certainty of a predator closing in on its hunt.

She was not ignorant to the fact her betrothed was dangerous and forceful. He was clever, manipulative, calculating, but ultimately a slave to his desires. The Reverend Mother Superior had appointed the two to one another for just this precise reason: one of the sharpest of her students to serve as a companion and counsel to such a husband, but also to keep him contained. She was well aware of her husband-to-be’s danger, and the genuine hazards that came with the heat of his passions.

Tii Sanura was still confident in her ability to defend herself physically, and she knew he had certainly not forgotten how swiftly she could put him down, even if there proved more struggle in the present day. But no, she realized, Feyd did not intend to force his way through to her at all; he knew he could tug on the threads of physical desire that he intended to conjure within her. She also knew, furthermore, that such a refutation and humiliation of her self-discipline was the gratification he wanted—how long, she couldn’t determine.

She rose from the bed as he set the bowl down. He was watching her like a panther.

“What’s wrong,” he questioned, voice saccharine with humor, “You seem tense.”

“Certainly…you can wait a few more months for an heir—“

“I don’t care about heirs, Sanura. I think that’s obvious enough.”

The way he’d said her name made her want to reconsider her resolve, but involuntary alarm bells went off as he approached her—his expression was so dark, his stare so heavy on her face that it reminded her of his thrill in the arena today, his sharp, powerful movements as he struck down his opponents. Damn him, she thought, he’s even got the propaganda working on me.

She watched as his eyes raked her body, her face, and his aura got shadowy as he stepped towards her. Bad, bad, was all that she could think, this still couldn’t happen yet. They had to be married. She tried to spin up a diversion with her words, but they were beyond unintelligible, let alone obvious lies.

“I am not like you, Feyd. I don’t harbor such desires, I am not…I do not have lustful wants. I cannot…It’s not right.”

He only held a knowing smile in his eyes as he closed in on her slowly, standing over her and peering down with evident satisfaction. She was too prideful to back away from him, no matter how badly she wanted to. Or perhaps she didn’t want to. He couldn’t tell, and Tii Sanura didn’t know herself right now. He held her jaw gently, making her hold his stare. He could feel her pulse racing under her skin, and she felt it quicken the longer she knew he could feel how fast her heartbeat was getting. It wasn’t right, she could only helplessly repeat to herself, it wasn’t time yet, it wasn’t right.

The more it kept repeating, the less it was starting to matter. The heat coming from his body was beginning to eclipse how stupid and reckless such an indulgence would be, what a delicate night this was, and how she had been avoiding this exact situation for the past year. A new voice spoke in response: and what a miserable year it has been.

“I have trouble with that, Sanura,” he said quietly, grazing one of her flushed cheeks with this thumb, “See, I don’t think you’re telling the truth.”

She lied like breathing. “I am.”

He clicked his tongue, smiling slightly. “No, you’re not. I can smell it off of you. I know my wife.”

“Near wife,” she quickly corrected, brushing his hand aside.

Her pedantry annoyed him, it wasn’t going to distract him from his goal. He knew just how to punish her for it.

“My wife all the same,” he countered, “Just as I am yours. Besides, you think I can’t tell your only weakness? You can barely think straight and all I’ve done is touch you a little.”

She was fortuitous in her composure—he knew the embarrassment that must’ve been flushing through her body at his open recognition of her obvious desire. She held his gaze now without his help; she had the strength of a challenge behind her stare. His mocking smile grew.

“I have no weakness. You are too used to the pathetic women on this planet to understand that.”

“Oh, Tii-Tii,” he lamented with a sigh, “You know I hate it when you lie to me. Do you think I’m as stupid as everyone else?”

He stepped towards her, and she stepped back. There was mild surprise in her eyes underneath her cool expression; she didn’t do it consciously. He felt his pulse starting to rise; she was cracking.

“I am not one of your whores,” she told him firmly, “You cannot have your way with me as you please. You must have my agreement.”

He smiled, eagerly backing her against the wall. “My darling beloved, I already have it. Don’t I?”

Her eyes flared with sudden alarm. “Feyd, what in the gods’ name is making you speak in such a way?”

“I am not a boy anymore, Sanura,” he said, eyes tracing her skin before returning to press down on her gaze, “And you are not a naive girl. You are a woman. You are a…beautiful woman.”

“I will not be demeaned in such a way,” she warned.

“It is not my intention to do such a thing.”

“You are cornering me like an animal.”

He smiled. “Are you cornered? Are you admitting such a thing?”

She blinked, then a sudden wave of anger darkened her features. He knew before she opened her mouth that she was about to use her Voice on him—he clasped his hand on her mouth, caging her to the wall with the rest of his body. He watched fire bloom in her eyes with reverence.

“You could not understand the way I have longed for you,” he spoke, voice too soft for anyone else but them to hear, “I would not disrespect a woman such as yourself with harm or force. But I will not wait any longer.”

Her eyes were alarmed and questioning. He willingly gave her the answer.

“I need you.”

His fingers gently grazed the scriptures that were raised on her soft skin, trying not to let his breath tremble—he did not anticipate being the slightest bit nervous to make his advance, but he couldn’t help it, not when it was her.

“You’re getting goosebumps,” he remarked with a grin, “Now why is that?”

He teased the edge of her waistband gently, watching her chest rise and fall in short, tight breaths. She was so much more easier to toy with than he thought, or she held back more needs of her own than he could’ve imagined.

“I’ve always wondered about that day.”

Tii Sanura felt her heart drop in humiliation, but an undeniable thrill shot through her. Part of her feared he’d forgotten, consider what he could be sticking his dick in every night, but here he was, admitting it had sat as heavy on his chest as hers.

“If no one had the opportunity to stop us…what I could’ve done to you…”

His fingers slid between the waistband and her bare skin as he slowly grabbed ahold of her hip, holding her in place. Her breath shuddered involuntarily, sending a jolt of hunger through his body.

“Mm, see? You aren’t made of stone, my jewel. You are a woman.”

She looked away with obvious discomfort and shame, but Feyd wanted to press a bit more before retreating. He didn’t lie, he would not force her.

“I will wait for you to come to me,” he said, leaning in to speak softly into her ear, “I won’t judge you for your needs, Tii-Tii. I know I am the only man to have ever touched you like this.”

They looked at each other, the pretense of denial have shattered, making their gazes wide open, their feelings and intentions obvious, unable to cloak them from the other. Slowly, he removed his hand from her mouth, a bit worried she would immediately lash out with a command.

She did not. She was silent. Her lips trembled.

He glanced between them and her eyes, his body slowly closing in on hers until he knew she wouldn’t resist him. He kissed her, gently, so as not to scare her too much, taking hold of her waist underneath her tunic. Her body was rigid and he could sense the nervous, confused energy coming off of her. He parted his lips from hers, feeling her trembling breath against his face.

“F-Feyd…”

She was stuttering, her mind seemingly incapable of forming a coherent thought as she frowned. Her eyes seemed to take in his face in a new way, but she couldn’t make the two different images fit. He kissed her lips again. Then her cheeks, then, with a flash of weakness, he kissed her neck, and her breath audibly drew.

“Feyd, please…”

I can’t take any more, is what she didn’t say but he knew what she meant. It made his blood get even hotter, rushing straight to his groin. His fingers dug into her skin, perfumed with roses, and he inhaled the scent greedily with a swallow.

“You think I don’t know the ways I make you excited?”

She stiffened as he forced his leg between her thighs and pressed against her, making her exhale loudly and mutter under her breath, closing her eyes and turning her face away.

“You can’t—I must…I can’t.”

She felt the cold blade of his newly gifted knife caress her cheek before he pressed the flat of it against her face to turn her face towards his, making her open her eyes and meet his gaze in challenge.

“Mm, those pretty eyes,” he said softly, trailing the dagger point down her neck, then chest, “You can’t what, my darling?”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your pet,” she demanded, hand closing around the hilt of a blade tucked in her waistband.

“No, no, of course not,” he soothed, voice rumbling in her ears as he tilted her chin up with his jewel-jilted knife, “But you’re mine, aren’t you?”

Her eyebrows drew together, and Feyd felt a thrill flash through him like a shiver. What will you do now?

He lowered his mouth to hers, eyes burning into hers, challenging her to stop him. She tried to wriggle but it only created friction between their intertwined bodies. Her eyes shut with a grunt at the feeling of heat and a jolt of pleasure blooming between her legs against his thigh. He watched her, tongue grazing his lips.

“You disgust me,” she calmly jabbed at him, trying not to give a reaction.

He chuckled. “Oh. Do I?”

“Get off of me,” she insisted, “I’m only warning you—once…”

Her voice faltered at the feeling of his blade’s tip tracing her bare waist as he pressed harder, his erection pressing against her thigh. It was upsettingly sizeable, just as she remembered when he was on top of her before. She had prayed it was just a trick of her mind.

Fuck, no, no—she couldn’t, definitely not, at least, before they were wed. It was not only beyond taboo for a woman of her standing in Daquan—but a blow against her pride as a Bene Gesserit. She had proven herself to the Reverend Mother, and she was supposed to throw that away, be knocked up under the seductive force of a Harkonnen? It sounded beyond deranged.

“I will not lie with you,” she told him firmly, finding some ground in her desire-afflicted mind. “You cannot force me.”

“Oh, you’re really breaking, aren’t you,” he murmured against her neck, parting his lips afterwards to taste her skin.

Her chest rose high, and her left hand involuntarily grabbed onto him as she pressed her lips together, fighting the soft shudder trying to move through her body. Her right hand had a white knuckle grip on her dagger, but it faltered.

“I will not lie with you before we are wed,” she said, “I will make you stop if I have to.”

He only laughed. “You don’t have to stop me yet, Tii-Tii?”

“Feyd,” she whispered, her tone even. A warning.

“I won’t give you my heir now,” he reassured, “But that doesn’t prevent me from giving you what you need, don’t worry.”

He started to kiss down to her chest, her skin hot against his lips.

“You really do need it, don’t you? I can tell you do, or you wouldn’t be hanging onto me like that.”

The smugness in his voice both made her frustration and desire rise to a breaking point. She parted her lips to speak, but her voice had disappeared as he tossed his blade aside, undoing the top buttons of her tunic so fast she didn’t even get the chance to try and stop him. He still seemed to hold some sense of respect for her sense of modesty; instead of ripping the fabric free from her body, he let it fall slack and open, revealing her torso to him. He took in the new skin, how the golden tattoos adorned her chest, and he couldn’t help but trace the pads of his finger across them, mesmerized.

“I still can’t understand it, what you’ve done to me,” he muttered softly, tracing the tattoos that weaved up her neck. She shivered slightly at the sensation, despite her best efforts.

Her will was starting to crumble as his fingers slid under her waistband, teasing at her undergarment, his touch creeping lower so slowly her legs were becoming weak. He licked atop her collarbone and tasted her skin, her head slowly tilting back as he dragged his tongue across her throat, tasting her pulse, gently grazing his teeth against her flesh. She made a soft sound, the tension in her body softening. Feyd grinned in victory, feeling the tension in her hips slowly loosening. That’s my girl, just as you’re supposed to.

“I can feel your legs shaking,” he said, words coming out in a low hum, “You’re this pathetic, just from my touch?”

Feyd was losing sight of anything beyond this moment. Her weak, bated breath, the moan building in her throat, the heat coming off of her intoxicating skin—it was overwhelming in the most delicious way. Her breath caught as she stared up at him, feeling, with equal parts terror and awe, completely helpless. It was a state of being she never thought possible; she was always far ahead of her peers, enemies, and colleagues. Never, in her lifetime, had anyone put her in such a weak, pliable position—certainly never a man of the Great Houses.

But here he was: her husband, the only one she ever thought close to matching her, doing just that, and about to push beyond it. Her lips slowly parted as her breath evened and he gently brushed his mouth against his. Their eyes fell shut at the mutual feeling.

“Kiss me,” he whispered against her mouth.

The heavy footsteps reached Tii Sanura’s ears before they reached his, and as the doors hissed, she had summoned a surge of strength within her to shove him away and quickly lunge over to the seat her cloak was and tugging it on. He fell back onto his bed in pure disorientation as she fastened a few of the bigger buttons and pulled the hood over her beautiful, precious face. Feyd quickly sat up as he looked from her cloaked figure to his cousin’s hulking frame barging into his quarters. An overwhelming wave of hatred washed over him as he glanced between them both with suspicion and curiosity. The fucking bastard, he seethed to himself.

“Uncle wants you to see him,” Rabban said, “And you, too.”

She ignored him, leaving the room smoothly with her hood up. Feyd watched her slip through his fingers in furious agony. The fucking bastard; he was so close.

“What—“

Feyd’s white-hot glare was enough to make Rabban turn away and leave.

***

Tii Sanura’s aura was dark and heavy as they were all escorted to meet with the Baron. She stalked ahead of the men in silence, her cloaked hands clasped firmly behind her back. Feyd eyed her with a discreet sense of pride while Rabban eyed her warily. Her hooded figure was unsettling to The Beast; there was something about the silence and swiftness of her movements which set his spine straight. This mood troubled him; in the underworld of corridors they travelled, she could easily slip from his sight and do god knows what. He remembered the day she interrupted his training session hours after he had insulted her culture’s customs, and she brutally beat him with just the same coordination and grace as she had in her movements now. Needless to say, he apologized.

Rabban glanced to Feyd, but his cousin’s face, as usual, remained impossible to decipher.

The three entered the quarters of Baron Harkonnen in silence. Instantaneously, Tii Sanura’s entire aura shifted from agitated to perfectly collected. The Baron blew smoke from his hookah, smiling at the sight of her as he reclined in his ink black bath. It took all her fortitude to not allow disgust to creep up in her mind at the unpleasant sight.

“Ah, my dear nice-in-law,” he remarked, “I’m glad you visited today.”

She smiled, briefly inclining her hooded head. “Lord Baron.”

Feyd and Rabban stood by as the Baron Harkonnen and Tii Sanura exchanged disturbing pleasantries with warm smiles.

He chuckled, rising the hookah to his lips. “How did you like your betrothed’s performance today? Did you not find it impressive? He’s improved, no?”

Feyd eyed her as he awaited her answer; she knew better than to refuse the statement or show any degree of affection towards the na-Baron, but there was always a sliver within him that hungered for her approval.

“He has learned well,” she affirmed smoothly.

“Perhaps after the wedding you can test your blade against his again, see for yourself.”

A soft smile briefly spread on her lips as she turned to him, gaze spelling vengeance. Feyd’s gaze tossed the challenge back with a small smirk. Her eyes said something he couldn’t decipher in response. Rabban glanced between the two discreetly, but his cousin still caught his eye, making him avert his gaze. Tii Sanura’s eyebrow rose a quirk as she glanced over at Rabban as well before turning her attention back to the eldest Harkonnen.

“Perhaps indeed, Lord Baron, but at least let him give me heirs first.”

He chuckled lightly, smoke billowing from his lips. Rabban observed the three with split second glances before remaining still, lest their withering stares fix onto him. He never trusted the Daquani girl. She was too clever, too good at saying the perfect things at the perfect time. His time on Arrakis only made him more wary—to come home to a woman so similar to the rats he fought on Arrakis, charming room after room, bathed in gold and glittering jewels, wrapping his Uncle around her finger only spelled trouble to him.

She was skilled at eliciting any paternal affections the soulless Baron Vladmir Harkonnen possessed—her mental acuity and combat skills already made her the bride he’d envisioned for his prized nephew, but her family’s power and prowess bumped her up to god’s personal gift to him. As if to prove his point, the Baron’s expression glowed with the same fondness he looked upon Feyd with—she was already family.

Rabban swallowed his annoyance, and Baron Vladmir’s eyes slid over to him slowly as if he’d sensed it; his expression quickly souring.

“You may leave.”

Anyone who could make Rabban go away in a moment’s notice immediately gained the Duchess’s favor. Feyd watched her back slowly relax as Rabban left, slinking up next to her. She didn’t shift her focus from his Uncle as their hands brushed against each other.

“Now then, enough pleasantries,” the Baron dismissed, “I have spoken with your family this week. I am sure you know Tii.”

She nodded. “Indeed, My Lord.”

“We have agreed that tomorrow is the day you two shall finally unite.”

Tii Sanura’s stomach dropped, and Feyd suppressed a smile. It seems he didn’t need to wait a few more months after all. He could sense the tension in his fiancé, though, and brushed the satisfaction he felt aside. Either she was truly afraid to marry him, or she knew something he didn’t.

She didn’t falter; in fact, she smiled. “I see, when are we to return to Daquan?”

“They intend to send for you tonight. A bit hasty, but I suspect they are a bit protective of their heir all alone on Geidi Prime, all these years aside. We’ve also discussed your living arrangements.”

Feyd eyed his Uncle suspiciously. “Living arrangements?”

“Yes, the Duke and Duchess have generously invited you to live as newlyweds in their court; I see no protest. You will enjoy yourself, nephew; I have heard many stories of the pleasure of Daquan. Consider it another gift for your birthday.”

Feyd’s jaw clenched as he recalled the afternoon attempt on his life in the arena with the Atreides slave with some annoyance. He pondered drowning his Uncle as his expression darkened. His lips dared to part and speak the thought, but Tii Sanura pinched him discreetly to tell him to be quiet. Sensing something beyond his understanding, he obliged his wife.

“Don’t tell me you’re still upset, nephew, you proved yourself quite well,” the Baron chided, chuckling, “Besides, I have another gift for your birthday.”

His lips parted into a smile that made Tii Sanura’s blood chill.

“Arrakis.”

The air in the room shifted. Tii Sanura’s mind fell still. Arrakis. The sister planet to her own, populated with a people whose ancestors undoubtedly lived in some semblance of the peace and calm hers did before the Empire discovered their Spice, before the Harkonnens sunk their claws into the planet. She held her composure, but wanted to swallow. The thought of ruling over Arrakis made her throat feel like sandpaper. The thought of Arrakis made her blood pulse and thicken. She wanted to sit, she wanted to leave immediately, she wanted to go back home.

Feyd placed his hand on her lower back, glancing over to her. She resented the way it calmed her. She couldn’t stand it.

“Rabban has obviously proved his incompetence, and I need Spice production stabilized. And you, my dearest niece-in-law, you will undoubtedly find a way to make yourself of use in this effort.”

“Of course, Lord Baron,” she assured, her expression placid.

“Of course, still, there are more talks to be had beyond this, but your union, and our houses’ unions are imperative. Go and prepare for your voyage, and allow me to be the first to congratulate you—I sense your union will be…more than agreeable.”

The Baron grinned, and instinctively Tii Sanura’s stepped away from Feyd’s touch to give a slight bow of respect. She offered a meditative smile, bowing her head slightly again and leaving silently. Feyd-Rautha followed, eyes fixed on her curiously. What did she know that he didn’t?

The moment the doors shut, Tii Sanura whirled around, and her hand shot out and collided harshly with Feyd-Rautha’s face. Without missing a beat, she walked towards her quarters at full stride, frustrations bubbling within her as if they had all come to boil.

“Do not ever touch me in that man’s presence,” she snapped lowly, eyes smoldering with barely restrained frustration, “I will not tolerate such humiliation, and you—“

She suddenly cut herself off as Feyd watched the anger boil over into the darkest glare he’d ever seen on his betrothed’s face. They held each other’s gazes, and a flash of realization passed over Tii Sanura’s face, sweeping away her temper as quickly as it had descended, causing him some dissatisfaction—he had never seen her so alive. She sucked her teeth, giving him a harsh look and stalking off back to her quarters.

The bastard.

As she rounded the corner, Feyd grabbed her and pinned her to the wall, eyes smoldering. Her gaze held heat too, and it flared back at him with upset and desire. His hand closed around her throat carefully, holding her to the wall as he whispered in her ear. She was learning new things about herself today—the second was what the sensation of such a gesture did to her body. His breath fanned against her face before her spoke quietly into her ear, mindful that his voice didn’t carry beyond the dark, empty hallway. To her shock and thrill, her language flowed from his lips as he spoke.

“Don’t hit me like that unless you’re willing to pay for it,” he told her, voice practically a low growl, “When we’re married, the next time you strike me like that, I’m going to bend you over the first thing I see and fuck that attitude right out of you. That’d be just what you needed, wouldn’t it? I bet you need it now.”

Their breaths were heavy as he let go of her throat, grabbing the back of her neck, and pulled her into a heated, aching kiss. She grabbed onto the fabric of his tunic with a soft quaver of her voice in her throat, opening her mouth—her body had nearly taken over her mind with need, and she crumbled into the kiss with almost as much need as her husband-to-be. He had to hold back the satisfied groan that wanted to rumble in his chest at her near matching his hunger before suddenly pushing him back as much as he would allow. Her breath was quiet but heavy. Her eyes were unmistakable, even in the shadows of the Harkonnen palace. Feyd held her tighter, leaning in again and taking another kiss.

She slowly closed her eyes, her eyebrows briefly creasing before her expression softened into nothingness again. Her body relaxed into a deep exhale, and suddenly, everything became…

Feyd’s world blurred around him. His mind spun as his feet’s hold on the ground seemed to lapse in and out. All he could hang onto was her scent, her heat, the pulsing blood that rushed through her body. Then, her voice. It whispered to him, but she didn’t open her mouth. A Bene Gesserit trick, he realized.

Follow me.

He wanted to be angry at her slight smirk, but he couldn’t; his mind and body were sedated under her cooling presence as she rose from the wall and took his hand off of her throat, linking their fingers to lead him through the darkness. He opened his mouth, but her whispers stopped him.

Don’t speak. You don’t need to. I know what it is you need.

Somehow he could still see her eyes through the shadows that devoured them both. His heartbeat filled his ears—but whispers did, too, whispers he couldn’t understand. He heard her gently laugh, much to his annoyance and stoking his lust. His hunger couldn’t decide if he preferred how she unraveled for him, or how she could assert her will over every aspect of his being at a moment’s notice.

He blinked, and suddenly his mind cleared. They were in her room. His cock strained against his pants as she reclined on her bed, resting on her elbows. He could see the curves of her breasts through her cloak—was she only wearing her cloak?

“Come,” she told him, her gaze dangerous. Another change.

She didn’t need to command him. Feyd knew the danger he had to be in for her to invite her to his bed, but he had no control. He slowly climbed on top of her, wary of whatever she had up her sleeve.

Careful, her Voice whispered. Not a command, but a warning. His mind sharpened with the familiarity of being caught in one of her traps. Her looked over her serene face with confusion.

“The time has come, my friend,” she said softly, “When I am to test if you are simply an animal, or a man.”

The world suddenly grew clear, and he became acutely aware of something pointing at the side of his neck.

“I hold the Gom Jabbar at your neck,” she told him, eyes scathingly watchful, “One move, and I kill you.”

He swallowed, his desires becoming increasingly stoked by the passing moment. She had him bested once again.

“What is my test,” he asked, eyes taking in glimpses of the bare inscribed skin underneath the black, shimmering fabric.

“Focus,” she sweetly reprimanded, “Or you will die by your wife’s hand.”

He held her stare, feeling his cock aching painfully. She moved her sleeve, revealing a small box further up the bed. He moved with her as she slowly reclined until her head was right next to it, and his hand threatened to slide into the mysterious contraption.

“Put your hand into the box,” she instructed, her lips brushing against his.

He was very wary of her intentions now, she was too open, too intoxicating. Hesitantly, he followed her directions while stealing glances at her.

“What is in it, Sanura?”

Her teeth gleamed in the light as a knowing smile curved her full, pillowy mouth.

“Pain.”

The moment the word left her lips, agony overcame his entire being. He knew to hold still, she would kill him without thinking, but his hand felt as if it was being put through multiple tortures all at once—the skin and muscles flaying off of bone, the fire consuming bubbling flesh, the freezing cold making the sinews brittle and dead. It was too much—he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

He held his wife’s dangerous, enigmatic stare as his hips slightly thrust against her and his cock pulsed and twitched in his pants. She felt it, but didn’t respond.

“Don’t move,” she warned.

His eyes were seeing white with the overwhelming sensations consuming his body—he held onto his wife’s instruction, trying to find her eyes through the haze. He was certain at this point that his hand was long gone, but the pain continued, telling him otherwise.

A groan filled his throat, and she clicked her tongue.

“Silence,” she told him.

His breath was ragged as he fought it down. This woman would be the death of him. He couldn’t tell if he hated her or loved her in this moment of torment.

He fixed his gaze onto hers, forcefully keeping himself upright with nothing but spite and terror. He watched her smile grow, but then she became blurry, and her whispers filled his ears. He felt her careful touch wipe his eyes so he could see clearly again.

“Very good,” she said.

Tears involuntarily rolled down the na-Baron’s face. He was right at the gates of release as she lowered the Gom Jabbar, visibly pleased. The pain lowered from its mind-frying crest, making him nearly collapse onto her if it weren’t for the tension holding his muscles in place.

“You can take your hand out, now.”

Feyd discovered with some shock that his hand was completely intact. Pristine, even. He swallowed, looking down at his wife in shock as his nervous system slowly stabilized. She was smiling. It was a strange one. Not the kind from games or torment, but unmistakably tender. Feyd’s heart slammed in his chest as he slowly rested his forehead against hers, but she allowed it.

“Very good,” she repeated, leaning upwards to gently press her cool cheek against his hot, teary face.

His words rasped out. “Am I an animal, my love?”

She chuckled sweetly, the devilwoman. He wanted to ravage her right then and there.

“You are an animal of a man, my husband. But you prove a man, indeed.”

“So have I passed your Bene Gesserit test, then,” he asked, eyelids heavy as he lifted himself up and let his gaze pass over her body again.

“Yes,” she said, “And now…”

He pressed his hips into her slowly, desire slowly reviving his traumatized senses. “…Now?”

“Now…”

She slowly lifted her chin, tasting the salt on his cheeks, feeling the hungry tremor pass through his body with satisfaction. His hands balled into fists, gripping the silken sheets in his hands. He inhaled her scent, roses and sweat and lust, mouth nearly watering. She grinned as she spoke into his ear.

“You must leave and prepare to depart for our wedding.”

At the flash of indignation on his face, she quickly changed her tone.

“Now,” she commanded.

Involuntarily, he rose, his face blank. She lied back with a sigh, placing the Gom Jabbar back into its cloth sheath and placing it on the bed next to her.

“I will see you soon, my friend,” she teased, “Perhaps your pets can satisfy you.”

The monstrous woman, he thought to himself as he unwillingly left her quarters. I knew she was jealous of them.

Tii Sanura let out a heaving exhale, lying back on the silken pillows and closing her eyes. It was only then her awareness noticed the pair of servants in the corner, awestruck and terrified. She sat up, covering herself with a bit of embarrassment.

“Oh dear, my apologies,” she said, finally addressing them, “I am usually not so sloppy. That was rather…improper of us.”

The two women eyed her warily. She considered them, then gave a small, benevolent smile.

“You may stand properly. I will be your new mistress, and I do not hail from a house of savagery. I expect my servants to stand with some semblance of grace.”

The two women shared a look of confusion, but quickly separated, timidly emerging from the corner with their heads bowed and shoulders crumbled. They faced her and looked at her, but she quickly realized the slaves of the Harkonnens did not know how to stand properly.

“Oh dear,” she remarked.

The slaves tensed in fear, trembling in anticipation of a brutal punishment. Tii Sanura rose from the bed.

“You must lift your heads, my darlings. Stand as I do.”

They observed her, then, warily straightened their spines, their shoulders squaring. Her expression was calm but warm, and she nodded in approval.

“That is better, but we will work on it.”

She considered them in silence, and the slaves gradually became less tense, unsure of what to do or anticipate from the stranger.

“What are your names?”

They feared her too much to speak. Her eyes softened.

“That is alright. You will decide yourselves when the time is right.”

She clothed herself, then gestured for them to approach. They avoided her eyes, but moved towards her quickly.

“You shall join me in Daquan. Is this agreeable?”

The two women nodded, hesitant to disobey, curious and eager to leave the cruel House Harkonnen to discover the court of their new mistress. She smiled.

“I suspected as much. Stay close to me. I will not allow otherwise.”

***

Feyd immediately sought out his wife the moment they were on their way to Daquan in a rage. His footsteps were silent—habit of a trained killer, but his fury was easily felt by Tii Sanura as she and the two Harkonnen slave women conversed.

He stormed into her quarters, meeting an unbelievably bizarre sight—two of his house’s slaves, smiling, conversing freely with his wife, dressed in the luxurious fabrics and jewels that she was adorning them in. Their faces fell in mortal terror at the sight of him, but his wife was unmoved. His stomach twisted, a new, unpleasant feeling. Something was wrong.

“Ah, hello, my friend.”

He moved to grab the slaves, but his wife’s dark stare stopped him in his tracks.

“Take one step towards them and I will return their suffering to you hundredfold,” she snapped, then smiled, “Do you understand?”

Indignation rose to a peak, he snapped at them. “Out.”

Tii Sanura was clearly annoyed by his addressing of the women, but she remained calm.

“No, no; you may stay. I do not want the Harkonmen envoys near you.”

“What is wrong with you, woman,” he demanded, stalking towards her as the women retreated to share a corner, frozen in silence.

She watched him calmly, her expression serene as always. Her eyebrows rose in mock sympathy.

“You did not ease your affliction with your pets?”

Her eyes flitted over to the women with a playful wink; embarrassment simultaneously infuriated and aroused him, and he glared back at the women. They stood differently, he noticed, and then he realized they were awaiting her instructions. Something was wrong.

“What is this,” he questioned, voice forcibly calmed, “What is happening in this room?”

She seemed to be glowing with a quiet joy, her features no longer held the shadow they did in Geidi Prime. She touched his face.

“Calm yourself,” she commanded gently, “And hear me.”

Feyd’s head swam as his nervous system suddenly slowed down. She guided him to her bed, and the two sat. He had never seem such warmth in her eyes.

“I will give you what you need,” she assured, whispering so as not to reach the ears of the women in the corner, “I can promise you; it will outclass any pleasure you derive from suffering. I will give you something better. Let your anger go.”

Her hand soothingly rubbed his back, a motion he did not understand, but wanted to continue. His confusion under the gaze of slaves made him tense. This was beyond humiliation.

“Feyd, do you trust me?”

Easy answer. “No.”

She laughed softly. “I will change that. But you can. I am fond of you, and our marriage ensures your safety.”

Safety?

The na-Baron knew he was missed crucial pieces of the puzzle his wife-to-be had built, but needed no additional information to understand he was caught in her web, and traveling through space directly into the nest itself.

“I cannot tell you everything until we are wed, and your safety is guaranteed.”

Her fingers caressed his jaw soothingly, and he looked at her. He didn’t know who the woman before him was.

“What are you planning, Tii Sanura,” he asked her, voice low.

“It is not my plan. It is the plan. And Vladimir Harkonnen is not included.”

A conspiracy. Familiar ground. He felt a bit more settled with this knowledge, but still, he was wary.

“I am your hostage, then?”

She laughed. It was a laugh he remembered from long ago, when she teased him for not having eyebrows when they were children.

“There is no need for hostages. The course is set. There is no escape. You are my betrothed. We are marrying, and that is all. They want you to breed. I want you to live.”

The word intrigued him. “Breed?”

She laughed slightly. “You will understand soon enough. I see glimpses of the path, but I will see it all. I will make sure you survive the coming storm.”

He scanned her face, but there was no way to know if Tii Sanura was ever lying, not to mention she was speaking nonsense. Seeing he couldn’t understand her, she sighed.

“Give me a moment.”

She led the women outside, conversing with the guards—no, instructions, Feyd corrected, orders to protect them if trouble arose—then returned inside so they were alone. Her eyes were fond, affectionate. It made his stomach churn. His head was spinning.

“I apologize that I cannot ease your confusion, my friend. Plans have been in motion since we have been betrothed; this is all I can tell you for now. You will learn the rest on your own.”

She went over to him, cupping his cheek in her hand and kneeling before him, resting onto his lap. Feyd felt the blood rush to his groin immediately.

“You have known no other life than the one given to you on Geidi Prime. It is a brutal, unnatural existence, but you have become the best specimen of such a place, which is why I fought for you.”

Fought?

“Your way of life has perfected you for the Baron’s purposes. But I wish to show you new ways of life—better ways. You burn what does not need burning, you strike when you need to caress. You will learn these things in Daquan.”

His heartbeat was slamming in his chest as she slid between his legs, looking up at him as he felt her breasts gently pressing against his lower abdomen, stoking the fires of his lust punishingly.

“I only ask of you to let me show you the way. I believe you can be redeemed. Let me show you the way to redemption.”

“I do not need to be redeemed,” he demanded, placing his hand around her throat, “You insult me.”

She smiled, and chuckled softly. “I will first teach you the ways of unsullied pleasure. Let me demonstrate my first lesson, and we will see how you feel afterwards.”

Her hands freely massaged his painful erection with careful pressure. His head swam his need; his grip tightened on her throat. She placed her hand over his, and he curiously allowed her to guide it elsewhere, lower, where his hand cupped her breast. His inhale was sharp.

“Do forgive my deception; I am not uneducated in matters of sex.”

The smile in her lips guaranteed her apology was false. Jealously lazily flared in him, but faded as she continued to massage his length through his pants.

“I cannot show any weakness in your court, so I had to hide many aspects of myself. I suspect you will be pleased with the discoveries you make in our time together.”

“I…will not be your pet, woman,” he protested, pleasure beginning to dull his harsher intentions. She deserved to be punished for her antics and condescension, but her hands were undoing him.

“No, you will not,” she assured, moving closer to graze his lips with hers, “You will be my husband.”

He kissed her hungrily, thrilled and conflicted by the newfound passion he was given back by his betrothed. He wished to take it from her, but she gave it so freely, and he needed the release so badly he couldn’t care less how he got her to ease his agonizing denial. She was tugging at his puppet strings, he knew this, but to receive whatever she offered, he would accept being bested. For now.

She broke their lips apart, eyes slowly opening, lids heavy in a way that he never thought possible.

“Do you trust me now,” she asked, kissing his jaw, slowly unbuttoning his trousers.

“No,” he muttered, then, after gathering his thoughts, “I don’t know.”

Her lips brushed against his ear. “Surrender this moment to me, and I will show you the beauty of trust.”

He had no protest. She smiled.

“Mm, I thought so.”

“You witch,” he protested at her gloating.

She only chuckled. “I cannot perform magic tricks, but I understand your confusion.”

Her kiss firmly silenced any retort she had as she closed her hand around his clothed length, making his breath shudder.

“My customs prevent me from making any sexual contact with your bare flesh,” she whispered, her voice wavering, “But the scriptures I studied didn’t mention anything about—“

He cut her off, taking her face in his hands and kissing her with unrestrained hunger as she began stroking him at a measured rhythm. He groaned softly into her mouth, and she tasted it eagerly. She spoke against his lips.

“I want you to be my husband,” she said, breathing heavily, “Do you understand? No other man will do. No other man would be my lover. I want you.”

“I knew you wanted me,” he muttered lazily, completely at the mercy of her skillful hands, “You cannot lie to me about this.”

“I will not lie to you anymore,” she said, words flowing from her lips in the heat of the moment, “There will be no need to. We will be together.”

He growled involuntarily at the feeling of his climax approaching as she sighed.

“You—you belong to me,” he said, it was both a statement and a question.

“We belong to each other,” she whispered, “No one will disturb us. No one will want to.”

His hand closed around her throat again and squeezed. She sighed again, no other man would take control like him, even when he was at his weakest.

“You belong to me,” he repeated—this time, it was a command.

She smiled, making sure to draw each word out, the surrender he had hungered for so ardently for so, very, very long. Her voice was soft and sweet in his ear, but strained under his grip.

“I belong to you.”

He climaxed almost immediately. He groaned as his cum spilled inside his pants; it belonged in her hot, wet cunt, but that was a matter for later. She hummed in affirmation as his cock twitched and pulsed underneath her hand, and made a slight sound of surprise as his hips jutted against her chest. She gripped him tightly and slowed her pace, humming along with his groans, smiling against his skin as his choking slowly changed to gripping her jaw to hold her still for his ravenous kisses, then changed to gripping her hair at her scalp to bare her neck to his hungry mouth.

She gasped as he kissed and sucked at her throat like a starved animal, then, to his astonishment, moaned softly.

“Feyd,” she barely said, her words barely intelligible through her growing sounds of pleasure, “Feyd, wait…”

His teeth grazed her skin, and she shivered with a smile, moving her hand away from his spent cock to press them both against his chest. She was being too indulgent, but then again, he had always been a bad influence.

“You want to wait,” he asked, tugging her head back, “You care about some old books?”

She chuckled, then moaned as he left a mark on her skin with a harsh kiss.

“I must—We must wait.”

She gently pushed him back, and he accepted her resistance. He was satisfied by her willingness to express her desire; her surrender to his demand. Hesitantly, he restrained himself and pulled away. She kissed him softly, caressing his head with such affection he would’ve thought a stranger was touching him.

“Without principles, we are no better than animals,” she said, “Not all disciplines are easy, I don’t deny it.”

She smiled at him, a devilish twinkle forming in her eyes.

“But the rewards for such obedience prove much sweeter than without it.”

The na-Baron took in his betrothed’s blissful features with an odd sense of reverence.

“You are a strange woman,” he remarked.

She smiled in amusement. “And you are a strange man.”

They kissed again, with Tii Sanura climbing into his lap as his hands hungrily roamed her clothed body.

“Are my convoys landing with me, my jewel,” he asked between kisses.

She laughed quietly. “They will make it to our realm. Then, I will have them released into the asteroid belt. Is this agreeable?”

Feyd laughed in return. “Yes, I believe it is. But I will require more of your…assistance.”

Her giggles were music to his ears as he hoisted her up into his arms, then tossed her onto her back on the bed, climbing on top of her and pressing himself between her legs.

He would have had no other woman as his wife.

#Spotify #feyd x reader #feyd rautha #my wriitng #amaranthine_enihtnarama #black y/n #fanfic authors #dune fanfiction #dune fandom #feyd x you #feyd fanfiction #feyd rautha smut #is this desire?

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meechlamajor · 17 hours

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would you write headcannons or lit anything for kk....por favor....i love her and the kk fics are a dessert

KK AS YOUR GIRLFRIEND: HEADCANONS

You sing to her 🌚

Whether your vocals are horrible or not, I feel like you should match her goofy vibe. So since she’s always dancing, you should match that by singing her the most unserious things. Like if you calls for you, you don’t answer normally, instead you’d say yes in the form of an overly extended run.

You treat her to Chipotle

KK loves some Chipotle, it’s actually insane how many of her TikTok reposts I’ve seen about it 😭😭 I feel like you guys could make it a once a week thing, Fridays maybe.

She’s so gosh darn touchy

She always wants to hold hands, or even just have a limb making contact with you. So she’d probably rest a leg on you just because.

Because KK is a live stream warrior, you’re going to be a guest in a decent amount of them.

You help KK do her hair, or wash it before her hair appointment.

In addition to that, I feel like you guys would search through Pinterest together to find more hairstyles for her. KK would probably be insanely indecisive, though, so it takes you guys forever to find something that she likes.

KK definitely rummages through your things out of boredom.

“Babe, what’s this?” She’s sat on the floor of your dorm, with a random item in her hand, peering up at you.

“Girl— put that back!”

Your room always ends up a mess as a result of her “curiosity.”

“It looked at me first!” KK replied.

Obviously, she gives you her jerseys to wear to games.

Also, as a devoted girlfriend you do have a blanket with cutouts of her face on it. It’s your favorite thing, ever. When KK got it for you, you laughed for like 10 minutes straight, but you use it like every night.

KK: it’s so that if you ever have another girl in here she knows that you sleep with me every night.

You: Why would I have another girl in here? Beside our friends Kamorea…

KK: I don’t know, you tell me *eyebrow raise*

You ask KK about Wisconsin lore.

You two are sat in KK’s car, having gone through the drive through of a restaurant.

“Why does your cheese squeak? What does that even mean?” You ask.

“It’s just— that’s the way it is and it’s good! Eat it!” KK scolds you, passing you some cheese curds.

“But the cheese isn’t stretchy anymore… that’s why it’s squeaky.”

KK rolls up the bag of fast food, “clearly you don’t respect fine dining. Look what happens when I try to be generous!”

KK loves to dress you, and oftentimes you guys match.

KK gives me “let’s have a movie night” vibes, except you guys watch the same movie over and over.

You guys 100% have a collaborative playlist with some of your favorite songs on it. Some songs I like below ⬇️

You Don’t Even Know - The Internet

Fashion Killa - A$AP Rocky

Go Gina - SZA

Get It Sexyy - Sexyy Red (of course)

Way 2 Sexy - Drake (i feel like kk would love this song but i have no evidence sawry 🌚)

KK has left her dorm after curfew just to go to yours and get into bed with you.

It’s going on 2 A.M. when your phone rings, a FaceTime incoming. It’s KK, so of course you answer.

Your voice groggy, you speak. “What’s wrong?” Granted it was random for KK to call you at 2 A.M. after you guys already said goodnight.

“Come open the doorrrrrrr.” She spoke, a blanket draped around her shoulder and her voice somewhat hushed.

“There’s no way you’re in the hallway right now… calling me…” you trail off.

“I am. Now open the door, please!” KK pleads, “my toes are cold!”

“You don’t have any shoes on?” You climb out of your bed, stalking to the door of your dorm, mindful of your roommate.

“No, I was rushing to get here since I missed you.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE!

soooooo happy that you sent in this request bc i’ve been wanting to write about kk so much! i just love her

i hope that you liked this! thanks so much! 🩷

#meech la major #meech’s thoughts #uconn wbb #kk arnold #anon speaks #meech’s anons #kk arnold x reader

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theetherealbloom · 2 days

Text

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM - CH.2

Chapter 2: Just Screeching Tires And True Love

Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.

Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking Around, FLUFF, LOTS OF SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Oral Fem Receiving, Kissing, Barely any plot, NOT A SLOW BURN AT ALL, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content, Size Kink, Reader is “smaller” than Joel but no further descriptions, Breeding Kink, PWP (wrap it up), Body worship, declaring their love for each other,

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: Oh, wow. I didn’t expect all the love you all gave in the previous chapter. That was my first time writing real, raw, dirty smut. Like IM STILL SO NERVOUS AND SHY to post smut AHSKJFHAHAHA. The introvert in me is like… having a huge anxiety attack rn PLS–

So, um, chat, I’m actually 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!

Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Joel's skilled hands and tongue explore every inch of your body, knowing that a series of powerful orgasms is the key to preparing you for him.

His fingers and tongue trace a path of pleasure over your skin, and you can't help but respond to his touch. Despite your reservations, you find yourself quickly reaching a boiling point, your body trembling with need.

Joel's touch is like a dream come true, his hands and mouth staking his claim on what's his. He takes his time undressing you, savoring every moment of this intimate moment.

As you lay back, your legs wrapped around his shoulders, Joel's tongue delves deep inside you, exploring every inch of your slick folds. His mouth moves over your clit with the same skill and passion as his lips on yours.

You try to whisper his name, to tell him something, anything, but every time he shifts his mouth to ask if you're okay, you can only shiver and gasp, your body trembling with pleasure.

Joel's touch is like a drug, and you find yourself quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of his hands and mouth on your body. You lose yourself in the moment, surrendering to the pleasure that only Joel can bring you.

Joel can't help but feel the overwhelming urge to bury himself deep inside you, to feel your slick heat surrounding him.

His balls are heavy and tight, his cock twitching against his jeans as he fights the urge to climax.

But despite his own desire, Joel remains focused on your pleasure, his tongue exploring every inch of your body as you shudder and moan beneath him.

You are a vision of beauty, your skin flushed and glowing with the aftermath of your climax.

Joel's own need is intense, but he holds back, wanting to make sure you're fully satisfied before he takes his own pleasure.

"I need you, darlin'," he groans, his body pressed against yours as he fumbles with his zipper.

But when you speak up, he stops, his body tensing with anticipation.

"What is it?" he pants, his heart racing as he tries to hold back his own climax.

You look worried, and Joel can't help but feel a pang of concern.

"This is what you want?" he asks, his voice low and gentle.

You nod, but there's still a hint of worry in your eyes.

"Buttercup, what is it?" he presses, his concern growing.

But when you tell him, his heart swells with emotion.

"I've never been with anyone before, Joel," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel feels a surge of protectiveness and love, knowing that he's the first person to ever touch you in this way.

Joel's heart swells with emotion as you confess your virginity. He pulls you close, kissing your forehead as he whispers reassurances.

"No, I don't mind, darlin'," Joel reassures you, his voice filled with tenderness and desire. "It means you'll be mine, and I'll be your first."

You still look uncertain, but the hunger in your eyes tells Joel everything he needs to know.

His cock strains against his jeans, eager to be freed, aching to be inside you. Joel smiles, a mix of pride and desire filling him as he sees your attraction to him.

"We can go as fast or slow as you want, darlin'," he whispers, his hands finding your hips as he settles back between your legs.

But you have other plans. Your arms pull him close, your voice a breathless plea, "Yes, yes please, now."

Joel's heart races as he finds his zipper and frees his cock, the tip swollen and eager, ready for you.

"You sure?" he asks, his hands trembling with anticipation as you nod, your desire written all over your face.

With a swift movement, Joel sheds his flannel, revealing his soft yet toned body, his full erection standing proud and ready for you.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you murmur, your eyes widening at the sight of him, the intensity of the moment hitting you.

As you both revel in the anticipation of what's to come, a distant rumble breaks the moment - a truck, your father's truck, parked outside.

Panic sets in as you realize the situation, the urgency of the moment propelling you both into a frenzy of dressing, the need for secrecy driving you to move quickly.

In a rush of movement, you both scramble to get dressed, the interruption leaving you both breathless and on edge, the promise of what was about to happen hanging in the air.

You hear the heavy steps of your father approaching the porch, the sound echoing through the house before the bell rings. Joel watches you quickly compose yourself, smoothing down your hair and adjusting your clothes, trying to appear composed despite the heated moment you both shared.

You move to Joel's kitchen, pretending to search through his pantry, your heart racing with the intensity of the situation.

Joel doesn't rush to answer the door, but your father is already there, a bag in hand, when he does.

"Joel, you okay, buddy?" Your father's voice fills the room, and Joel responds with a casual tone, "Yeah, yeah. Your daughter is in the kitchen helping me unpack some stuff. Come on in."

The air is thick with tension as your father enters, unaware of the charged atmosphere between you and Joel. You exchange a quick glance, a silent understanding passing between you as you both navigate hiding your shared secret.

"Hey, Dad, how was work?" You ask, trying to keep your tone casual and light.

Your father hands Joel one of his bags, his eyes flicking between the two of you, a hint of suspicion in his gaze.

"Anything interesting happen today?" You ask, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

Your father shrugs, his eyes still on you and Joel. "Just the usual," he says, his tone nonchalant, but his gaze lingering on the two of you.

"Well, I came over to check in… and tell you two that we should start prepping dinner soon," he says, breaking the tension. "Sweetie, why don't you help set up the table while I take over and help Joel finish up over here?"

"Yeah, sure thing, Dad," you say and your father smiles and you give one more glance over at him and Joel before leaving.

As you close the front door of Joel’s home and step off the porch, you take a deep breath and sigh, your heart racing with the fear of being caught.

You quietly position yourself near the edge of the house, just out of sight, listening in on the conversation between Joel and your father.

You feel your body flooded with anxiety, knowing that you need to make sure your father doesn't discover your secret with Joel.

You don't want him to find out or jump to conclusions before you and Joel have had a chance to define your relationship.

As you listen, you can hear the regret in your father's voice, and although Joel's tone is clear, your father's is softer, more subdued.

You can feel the weight of unspoken tension in the air, a heaviness that hangs between your father and Joel.

"It's fine, man, it really is," Joel reassures your dad, his voice calm and steady, a stark contrast to the unease that lingers.

Your father's repeated apologies have left you puzzled, his behavior out of character and leaving you wondering what's truly bothering him.

"So, what's eatin’ you?" Joel's voice cuts through the silence, his tone firm yet compassionate. "It's like you have a bug up my ass since I got here. C'mon, out with it," he urges, his directness surprising you.

As you listen in on the conversation, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions. You're concerned for your dad, who seems to be struggling with feelings of jealousy and insecurity.

"I dunno, Joel. It's just seeing you this time around, hearing how well you've done. And with my own business not doing as well… Fuck, man. Can ya blame a guy for wondering where he went wrong?" your father admits.

Joel responds with kindness and understanding, offering to help your father financially if he needs it.

"I told you, name the amount or just say the word. I'll cut you a check right now," Joel says, his voice steady and reassuring.

You get the sense that they had a lengthy conversation at the home office earlier, and Joel had seen firsthand the state of your father's business.

Despite your own worries, you can't help but feel a sense of pride in Joel's unwavering support for your father, even in the face of his own success.

"I don't want your charity, Joel," your dad says, his voice heavy with frustration. "I want...I guess I want the past twenty years back so I could do it differently. Do it better for my daughter. You know?"

Your heart aches for your dad, for all that he's done for you, putting family first even when it's just the two of you. It's what gets him out of bed every morning.

"I understand," Joel replies, his voice soothing. "But you've done your best, and now it's time for me to do mine. Movin’ back here isn't just about hangin’ out. I'm here to support you, whether you like it or not. So quit being stubborn and let me help."

Your dad goes quiet, and you realize that you've been eavesdropping for too long. You start to move away, not wanting to intrude on their conversation, but you hear your dad say something that stops you in your tracks.

"Joel, all those years ago. After her mom left and I had nothin'. We had nothin'. Remember who set me up in that little auto shop?"

Your interest is piqued. Anything to do with the past is interesting to you because your dad absolutely refuses to ever talk about it.

"It was you, Joel, all of it, and you know it. Hell, even Tommy helped us. If it wasn't for you and him, all the hard work you put in, paying off that damned loan, my daughter and I wouldn't be where we are today. And there's no way she would've gone to college."

Your dad's voice breaks off, full of emotion. And you hear Joel shifting his weight across the room.

"C'mon, we've been through this a million times. That damn loan was to get both of us started, remember? And we always said whoever paid it back first would never owe the other a fuckin’ penny. Remember?"

As you listen to your dad and Joel's conversation, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions. You're happy to learn about the support and friendship that exists between them, but you're also surprised that you're only hearing about it now.

"I remember," your dad groans, and you realize that it's time for you to leave them to have a private conversation.

As you make your way home, you can't help but wonder about Joel's past and the ways in which he's helped your family over the years. You're grateful for his generosity, but you're also a little shocked that you're only hearing about it now.

A night of many firsts for you, it seems. But your first time with Joel is obviously going to have to wait.

As you walk away, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation. You know that Joel wants to tell your dad about your relationship, and you can see why. They used to share everything, including start-up money.

You guess that Joel wants what you want too - to have your dad as a part of the family for all of you.

But the shock of it all might cost more than you think, especially if your dad is as stubborn about you being with Joel as he is with everything else.

For now, you can only wait and see how things unfold, hoping what you have with Joel will be strong enough to weather any storm that comes your way.

"So, sweetie, did you have fun over at Joel’s?" Your dad asks, his innocent question sending a jolt of panic through you.

You choke on your food, feeling Joel's eyes on you from across the table. You quickly take a sip of water, trying to compose yourself. "Sorry... just... I... that went down the wrong pipe. Um, yeah, it was fun, a bit tiring though, kinda like a whole workout," you manage to say, your voice slightly shaky.

Unbeknownst to your dad, Joel shoots you a knowing wink, his smirk sending a thrill through you. You focus on your plate, trying to avoid any more embarrassing slip-ups.

As you try to eat, your mind races with thoughts of Joel. The simple act of 'being neighbors' suddenly feels like an impossible task. You can't shake the desire you feel for him, the hunger for his touch burning hot within you.

There's an obvious tension around the table, an aura of unspoken desire. You know there's no way you can make it through dinner without giving in to the overwhelming attraction you feel for Joel. It would take a miracle to resist the pull between you.

Thankfully, the universe seemed to be on your side as Joel's phone suddenly rang, interrupting the tension at the table.

"Sorry... gotta take this. It's Sarah," Joel said, his voice sheepish as he excused himself from the table.

You couldn't help but perk up at the mention of Sarah's name, smiling as you said, "Tell her hi for me please."

Joel easily slid his chair out and moved into the living room to answer his phone, his low voice a comforting presence as he greeted Sarah.

Your dad's suspicious gaze lingered on you for a moment, but you stayed quiet, focusing on your food. The anxiety bubbling up inside of you was making you dizzy, but you tried your best to push it aside and enjoy the meal.

As Joel talked on the phone, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. The interruption had given you a moment to collect yourself and regain your composure.

But even as you ate, your mind was still consumed with thoughts of Joel. The desire you felt for him was overwhelming, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before you gave in to the temptation.

Joel returns to the dining area, still on the phone, and hands it to you with a dramatic grumble. "Sarah wants to talk to you."

Your eyebrows shoot up in happy surprise, and you take the phone, excitedly greeting Sarah. "Hi Sarah! Miss you loads, I'm so excited you're moving back here."

Sarah squeals with delight, "You'll be there to pick me up from the airport tomorrow afternoon, right? With my dad?"

"Mhm! I'll be there, Joel is borrowing my car in the meantime." You assure her, smiling as you hear her excitement. "See you then!"

You say your goodbyes and hand the phone back to Joel, who resumes his call and says goodbye to Sarah.

As you head back into the dining area, you notice your dad has been busy on his phone, looking through his emails.

The tension from earlier has dissipated, replaced with a sense of excitement for Sarah's return.

But even as you chat with your dad, your mind is still consumed with thoughts of Joel. The desire you feel for him is overwhelming, and you can't help but steal glances at him throughout the meal.

As dinner winds down, Joel stands up, exchanging a hug and a pat on the back with your dad before turning to you. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you in a tight squeeze.

The electricity between you is palpable, the air thick with anticipation. You can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you look into Joel's eyes, knowing that the night is far from over.

With a lingering touch and a whispered promise, Joel leaves you with a sense of longing and desire, eager to see what the rest of the evening holds for the two of you.

Your dad checks in on you before he retires to his room, a habit from when you were a child. But tonight, your mind is elsewhere, consumed with thoughts of Joel.

As you lie in bed, your heart races, and your body aches for his touch. You know that sleep is impossible until you're in his arms.

After what feels like hours of tossing and turning, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Quietly, you slip out of bed, grabbing your phone, putting on your shoes and a sweater over your sleep shirt and shorts.

You listen at your dad's door, hearing the deep rhythm of his snoring, signaling that he's fast asleep.

With a sense of determination, you make your way to the back of the house and slip out the door, making your way up to Joel's porch.

If you were unsure about rushing into things a few hours ago, a sleepless night and the lingering ache between your legs are enough to convince you that you don't just want it - you need it.

The anticipation builds with every step, your heart pounding in your chest as you approach his door. You take a deep breath, ready to see where the night will take you.

Before you have the chance to knock, the door swings open, revealing Joel in nothing but grey sweatpants, his broad shoulders, soft belly and toned chest on full display.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you take in the sight of him, your body responding instantly to his presence.

"Well, hello there, darlin’" Joel says, his voice low and seductive. "Was wonderin’ when you'd show up.”

Without a word, you step forward, closing the distance between you and Joel. Your hands reach up to touch his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

"I need you," you whisper, your voice filled with desire.

Joel's eyes darken with lust, and he pulls you closer, his lips crashing down on yours in a passionate kiss. The sound of the front door slamming shut and him locking it echoes through the room as he doesn't remove his mouth from yours.

As you lose yourself in the moment, you know that tonight is the beginning of something new and exciting - a chance to escape the mundane and embrace the passion that burns between you and Joel.

Even though you're still a little tender from your earlier encounter, you're confident that you can handle him. You think. Maybe not all of him, but at least half of what you saw earlier.

The anticipation builds as Joel's hands explore your body, his touch setting your skin on fire. You whimper, your voice cracking and your body even buckling as he pulls you closer to him.

Your whole body is exploding with arousal, flushing through you all the way to where you need him most.

Your hands claw at his chest, and feeling his heart pounding hard against it, followed by the unmistakable feeling of his stiff erection probing you, you know you’re on the same page.

"I wanted it to be special," Joel says, almost sounding disappointed.

"It will be special," you counter, daringly running the flat of your palm up the front of his jeans, making him groan in a low tone.

"I meant somewhere special… not here," he reasons.

"I don't care where we do it, Joel. Bent over your couch, against the wall, on the kitchen counter - I just need you inside me," you gasp, your breath hitching with desire.

His strong arms effortlessly lift you off your feet in one swift motion, his muscles flexing as he carries you towards the bedroom.

"Then it's the bedroom," he growls, his voice low and commanding, as he strides purposefully up the stairs, his gaze locked on yours.

In this moment, you couldn't care less if anyone caught a glimpse of the two of you. All that matters is the raw desire pulsing between you and Joel.

The world fades away as you enter the bedroom, the air thick with anticipation and need. You know that this is where you belong, in Joel's arms, giving yourself completely to him.

If not for the interruption earlier, this morning would have been the moment you surrendered to him. But now, there are no more barriers, no more distractions.

It's just you and Joel Miller, enveloped in a whirlwind of passion and desire.

Joel might have envisioned a five-star hotel suite or a secluded cottage by the lake as more romantic settings. But you're right. Anywhere that's just the two of you alone will be special.

Your first time, or both of your first times, is something to be cherished. But what truly matters is the connection between you and Joel, not the location.

Seeing you standing there in nothing but the shortest sleep shorts and a sweater, Joel can't wait a moment longer. The urgency to be with you, to share this intimate moment, is overwhelming. He discards both of your clothing somewhere between the frenzy of kisses and tongue. The hours it would take to create the perfect setting elsewhere pale in comparison to the raw desire pulsing between you both.

In the bedroom that Joel wishes to be both of yours, he can't help but get a shiver. This is it, the moment you've both been waiting for. Joel, with the woman of his dreams. You, with a man who has more to offer than just his own needs.

It has to be right now. Joel needs to lay you down and fill your sweet cunt with his seed. There's an urgency between you both, like you've both got an appointment with destiny that neither of you can miss.

"We won't be interrupted this time," you whisper knowingly, and if last night's anything to go by, you both know you want more than just an hour of each other.

Joel's hands tremble as he holds himself over you, your heaving breaths swirling in the even hotter places between your bodies. Your mouths lock in deep, penetrating kisses, Joel's chest butted up against yours, both your hearts pounding out a beat that somehow he knows is gonna make another kid. This time with you. And God help him, he's gonna do right by you.

"I've waited for this… dreamed of you for so long," Joel rasps, feeling you sliding his swallowed tip over the entrance to your slick valley. Your quivering, tight cunt is pressing and rubbing against his cock, making both of your eyes open wider. Joel feels you tense up just a little, but he makes sure it's you who guides his hardness for now.

"I've waited too. I still can't believe this is actually happening," you purr, your thighs and wide hips perfectly matching Joel's own size. And he knows you're gonna need all the padding you can get once he starts fucking you like he senses you want it.

Joel's lips crash onto yours once more, your tongues dancing together as your bodies become one. You can feel him entering you, filling you up in a way that takes your breath away.

"It's so big," you gasp, your voice trembling with pleasure.

"Go as slow or as fast as you want, darlin'," Joel murmurs, his voice strained with desire. He watches your face, your expressions of pleasure and discomfort as he slowly enters you.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you moan, your voice deep and loud. Joel can't help but join in, his own moans mingling with yours as he slides deeper into you.

Inch by inch, he fills you up, your bodies moving together in a rhythm that feels both new and familiar. You can feel every inch of him, the sensation both overwhelming and exhilarating.

There's a moment of discomfort, a jolt that makes you wince, but it passes quickly, replaced by a feeling of fullness that takes your breath away.

You can feel the heat building between you and Joel, the intensity of your connection growing stronger with each passing moment. Your bodies move together in a rhythm that feels both primal and instinctual, a dance as old as time itself.

"You feel so fuckin' good, sweetheart," Joel groans, his voice low and husky with desire.

You can only respond by gripping his cock from the inside, shifting your hips higher as your mouth forms an 'O' shape. Your eyes are pinched shut for a moment, lost in the overwhelming sensation of Joel filling you up completely.

But when you open them again, you're met with Joel's gaze, his eyes dark with desire and need. You can see the tension in his muscles, the way his biceps bulge as he grips your hips.

You both want this, crave this connection that goes beyond words. You want to share your first climax together, to create something beautiful and new between you.

And if you're lucky, maybe he’ll even put a baby in your belly.

You grip hold of Joel's forearms, your smaller hands doing their best to clutch them as he watches your breasts start to bounce with each long and firm stroke in and out of your tight wet pussy.

You're lost in the moment, your body moving in perfect harmony with Joel's as he thrusts into you again and again. You can feel every inch of him, filling you up in a way that makes you feel complete.

"Give it to me, Joel," you cry out, your voice hoarse with desire. You hook your ankles around his back, urging him to fuck you as hard and fast as he likes.

Joel doesn't hold back, his hips pistoning as he drives himself deeper into you. You can feel every thrust, the sensation bordering on painful but in the best way possible.

Your G-spot is a prime target at this angle, and once you get a taste of how good it feels, you're hooked. You like it hard, deep, and fast just as much as you like it soft and slow.

The bed underneath you both creaks and groans with the force of your frantic pumping and rocking. Any concerns you both might have had about making noise are long gone. It's a wild, primal sound, and Joel's grunts and growls are matched by yours with every movement of your entangled bodies.

His grip shifts from your hips to that ass of yours, kneading your soft cheeks with his fingers as he pulls you harder towards him. The slick warmth of your essence mixes with his own precome, the combination creating a friction that's both intense and overwhelming.

Joel is proud of how much you can take of him. His balls are rising with his pending climax, the tightness and warmth of your sweet pussy working its magic.

You both know this isn't a race or a test of endurance. Joel knows your prized pussy is his, and your body is his. But it's your climax that he's craving.

To see your face as he fills you with his seed.

And the new life he has ready to put inside you is as eager to make that dream come true for either of you.

Your body stiffens suddenly, and then trembles all over. You arch the small of your back, grunting words that have Joel swelling so much inside of you that he knows that you're both close.

Your eyes roll back, and you force quick breaths through your mouth. Joel's jaw is clenched and tight.

The growl from him is growing by the second as he feels his release rising.

"C'mon, baby, fuck, I'm gonna come… gonna come… tell me where darlin, fuck," Joel practically shouts, and you whimper, "Inside… inside me, Joel, fuck a baby into me."

Your gasping screams as you try to call his name fill his ears, rushing with the torrent of his pulse when he feels his own climax start to escape him.

The shudder of your hips against his and Joel's hands holding you so tight against him makes it feel like you're finally one.

Joel has never come so hard in his life, and he's never felt what he feels for you with anyone or anything. And unlike your climax when he used his mouth, this is a proper full-body orgasm for you. And for him too.

Your bodies are slick with sweat, your skin hot and flushed with desire. You're both breathing heavily, your chests rising and falling in unison.

Joel collapses onto you, his body spent and sated, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. The room is filled with the sound of your combined heartbeats, a symphony of desire and satisfaction.

As you lie there, entwined with Joel, you can feel the powerful energy coursing through both of your bodies, a potent connection that leaves you both breathless and wanting more.

The waves of your shared climax begin to ebb, but the intensity of the moment lingers in the air, wrapping you both in a cocoon of pleasure and intimacy.

"Holy shit," you gasp, still shuddering from the force of your release. You can feel Joel's member continuing to flex and pulse inside you, a reminder of the raw passion that brought you both to this moment.

It's more than just an orgasm. It's a transcendent experience, a merging of souls that leaves you both feeling bound together in a way that words can't quite capture.

As you catch your breath, you look into Joel's eyes, seeing a depth of emotion and connection that takes your breath away. In this moment, you know that you've found something special, something rare and beautiful that goes beyond mere physical pleasure.

Joel's smile is warm and genuine as he looks down at you, his body still intimately connected to yours. "Darlin’, you're mine now, if you'll have me," he says, his voice filled with emotion.

You can feel the aftershocks of your climax still pulsing through your body, the sensation of Joel's stiffness still flexing inside of you a constant reminder of the pleasure you've just shared.

Joel eases himself onto his side, sensing how much you want him to stay inside you. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you both lay spent, your bodies still entwined in a tangle of limbs.

Your panting breaths mingle in the air, your smiles of near disbelief that anything so incredible could even be possible.

"Of course, Joel, I...," you begin to giggle, gasping in a quick breath as you feel his stiffness still flexing inside of you.

Joel props himself up on one elbow, caressing your cheek as he finally slides out of you. "I don't know how I know, but I just know. Do you feel it too, darlin’?" he asks, his voice filled with a sense of wonder.

You can feel your whole body relaxing, the tension and excitement of your climax slowly ebbing away. "Oh, I think I'm gonna feel it for a few days," you joke, your eyes widening in amazement.

Joel's smile is warm and genuine as he looks down at you, his eyes filled with love and adoration. "I love you," he blurts out, his voice filled with emotion. "I've never been good at this, with words… but fuck it, I love you, darlin'."

You make a small sound, a soft gasp that turns into a frown as your eyes mist up. You clutch your arms around his neck, as if your life depended on it, pulling him closer to you.

"I love you too," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion. "I love you so much, Joel."

In this moment, as you lay there in each other's arms, you know that you've found something special, something rare and beautiful that goes beyond mere physical pleasure. You've found a love that is raw, real, and passionate, a love that will last a lifetime.

Joel's fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "I want to make love to you again and again, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

You smile up at him, your eyes shining with love. "I want that too, Joel," you whisper. "I want to feel you inside me, filling me up with your love."

Joel's lips crash down on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that takes your breath away. You respond eagerly, your bodies moving together in a dance as old as time itself.

As Joel enters you again, you can feel the connection between you deepening, growing stronger with each thrust. This is more than just sex, more than just physical pleasure. This is love, pure and simple, a love that will last a lifetime.

"I love you, darlin'," Joel murmurs, his voice filled with emotion.

"I love you too, Joel," you whisper, your voice filled with the same love and adoration.

And as you lose yourself in the moment, you know that this is where you belong, in Joel's arms, surrounded by his love and affection. This is where you'll stay, for the rest of your life.

Having a man like Joel Miller relieve you of your virginity is one thing, but having him tell you that he loves you is something else entirely. It completes you, fills in the missing pieces of your soul that you didn't even know were there.

It changes you, transforms you into a better version of yourself. And it changes everything between you both for the better.

There are no more questions, no more wondering what if, no more chasing. Just the two of you, and you both feel it as strong as the climax he just gave you.

As the world slowly comes back into focus, you become silently aware of just how quiet everything is. The old house, the neighborhood outside, it all feels like something you've both left behind already.

Your bodies are still entwined, your limbs tangled together as if trying to become one. You can feel Joel's heart beating against your chest, his breath hot and heavy against your neck.

Having Joel Miller come back to town feels like a dream come true, and not just because of the mind-blowing sex you just had. It feels like he's here for you, to keep you, to lift you up and carry you off to the new life you both have waiting for you.

Neither of you says anything for a long time, content to bask in the afterglow and the moonlight of the night. You can feel the connection between you growing stronger, a bond that goes beyond mere physical pleasure.

As you lay there, completely sated and relaxed, you can't help but feel like you're exactly where you're meant to be. And it's in that moment of pure bliss that Joel's deep voice breaks the silence.

"Darlin'," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You jump a little, startled out of your peaceful reverie. But as you turn to look at him, you see the warmth and love in his eyes, and you know that this is no dream.

"Can I get you anythin'? You want somethin'?" Joel's voice, tinged with his Southern drawl, is like music to your ears as he gazes at you with a look that feels like it's etched into your memory forever.

"I think you just gave me what I needed, cowboy," you reply, a playful glint in your eyes as you exhale a long breath, feeling the lingering effects of your passionate encounter with him.

"I may never walk straight again, but I'm good," you assure him, snuggling close as he gently wraps one of his strong arms around you, pulling you into his warmth.

After a moment of blissful silence, a realization hits you, and you let out a low groan. There are things you need to attend to after such intense intimacy.

You quickly kiss Joel, mumbling about needing to freshen up and use the bathroom, waddling slightly as you make your way. Once you're done, you eagerly return to his embrace, seeking the comfort and closeness only he can provide.

"What is it?" Joel's voice is filled with concern as he notices the slight shift in your demeanor.

Your life before the sun rises is still out there, waiting for you both. Responsibilities and realities loom on the horizon, but in this moment, all you want is to be held by Joel, to feel his presence anchoring you in a world that suddenly feels uncertain.

He takes a slow breath, his arms enveloping you in a protective embrace, offering you solace and reassurance. Both of you are acutely aware of the depth of your connection, of the emotions that have been stirred between you, and the inevitable challenges that lie ahead.

As you lay entwined with Joel, the weight of the future pressing in, you find comfort in the strength of his arms, in the love and understanding that flows between you. In this moment, you know that no matter what comes next, you have each other, and that is enough to face the aftermath of it all.

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x-liv25-jamieswife · 2 days

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For the release of ttpd, can a girl get some sad Grayson hcs 😔✊ <3

sad grayson head canons

of course<3. i eat up sad tig hcs so i might make some for the rest of the brothers and avery (probably will). hope you like them! this one is going to be kinda dark (i like making my favorite tig characters suffer) so trigger warning for self-harm and suicidal thoughts/attempts. take care of yourselves, and try to talk to someone if you can. as someone who's been through a lot of shit last year, i can promise you things, at some point, start looking up (this might be corny, but i felt the need to say it) (i may be projecting in some of these cause i love making myself see myself in my fav characters if that makes sense).

grayson used to go out (like to the park or smth) and watch all of the kids playing with each other wishing he could be like them.

sometimes he gets so self-destructive he doesn't eat or drink water. he just lies in bed wishing he could magically die.

grayson heard the prochecy, the black dog, loml, and down bad from ttpd for the first time and started sobbing uncontrollably (so many other songs but yk, im not gonna write all of them down)

when he gets in those self destructive moods, he tends to piss people off/make people sad on purpose so that they'll get made and leave him (he secretly wishes that someone can see through all of his pain and be there for him)

very dark so trigger warning (even though i gave one at the beginning. you can never be too sure), grayson used to have scars on his ribs bc he would hurt himself. he never cut deep enough for it to actually scar permanently bc he 'has an image to uphold' according to tobias.

although swimming is a coping mechanism, it's also a form of self-harm for him sometimes. he swims until he can't feel his legs anymore, and sticks his head underwater for extended periods of time until he feels like he's about to drown.

i actually saw this in a conan gray interview, but he used to cross the street without looking left and right hoping a car would hit him.

he hears emily's voice in his head more often than he lets on. whenever he hears her voice, he'll press his nails so hard into his palms, they start to bleed.

he somehow managed to get his hands on some anti-depressant behind tobias' back and started taking them, but, sometimes, when he was especially suicidal, he would try to overdose on the pills. it never worked.

he's convinced himself that he deserves the pain he causes himself/the people cause him.

tobias knew about his unhealthy coping mechanisms but didn't do shit to help him bc didn't want him to 'soften up' making grayson think his grandfather thought he deserved the pain.

grayson will purposely make himself stay awake for days on end bc he doesn't think he deserves to get sleep sometimes (he needs to work. in his head, everything will go to shit if he doesn't)

sometimes he'll go swing on this swing they have in blackwood forest to feel like a kid again (it sometimes works)

he has this stuffed teddy bear nash gave him when he was a baby that he sometimes sleeps with when he feels alone (even though he'd grown now).

this one is extremely dark, probably the darkest one yet so tw for suicide attempt(ish its not really one).......... at the age of fifteen, he actually bought pills to overdose on and set a date (the 14th of may (really random)). he was going to off himself that day but didn't end up doing it bc his brothers dragged him out to play chess (idk, anything works). he said he'd do it some other day but never go to it. every year, on that day, he celebrates not offing himself bc he wouldn't have met the people he met and wouldn't have gotten to feel the happiness he now feels if he had.

he's convinced himself he isn't worthy of love (this one also applies to jamie, a lot of these actually do in my opinion, they're quite similar when you think about it. probably will make a post about this)

when he was a baby, he'd imagine his stuffed teddy was actually his mom when he felt the need to be held by a parental figure. it almost never worked, but he would always try again hoping it would magically start working.

he has panic attacks on a regular basis. ones where he starts pulling at his hair and stuff. he thinks he's going crazy after these, but avery reassures him he isn't (or nash, but i like the idea of avery being there for him as a friend/sister figure)

when he was younger, he used to ask people if they wanted to come to his house and play with him. they said yes but only bc he was rich. the second they'd step foot into his house, they'd leave him and start exploring.

this sort of goes with the hc i made that he denies himself food and stuff, but, when he gets cold at night and wants to lower the temperature, he'll force himself to stay in bed and take the blankets off to let himself suffer.

he secretly wishes people weren't so scared of him bc then he might have friends.

sometimes, he starts feeling so numb with everything he goes back to the cliff where emily died just to feel smth.

he's such a perfectionist he would cry whenever he got lower than a 90% at school.

it might not look like it, but he really cares about people's opinions of him and will do everything in his power to 'fix' what these people think is wrong with him.

whenever he gets mad at the world or at himself, he'll go to one of those places where you smash and break everything. when he's done, he makes himself sit in the mess and look at all of the destruction he caused (he sees this as him destroying everything in his life (like his relationships, etc))

to end on a brighter note, here's a happy grayson hc :)

when he was younger and wanted smth, he would jump with his hands clasped together begging for it with the cutest puppy eyes ever (i find this one really adorable and can literally picture it in my head).

not proof read so i apologize for any spelling mistakes<3. again, there are resources you can use if you ever need help. if you can, try to get a therapist, and, if you can't, talk to a friend/family member or call a helpline. things can get better. sending everyone lots of love.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne

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chilschuck · 3 days

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AAAA i love your blog!! could i pls request a post-canon scenario where chilchuck finally admits his feelings for reader now that they’re not co-workers anymore >_< (assuming reader joined the laios party during the story)

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ WAAAAH ANON i’m so happy you love my stuff!! i LOVEDDD writing this for you, and i have another request in my askbox that’s similar that i’m going to do as well! this was super fun, and i found myself enjoying this idea and coming up with things i could do with it!!! i hope you enjoy!!! <333

— SHELTER: chilchuck x gn!reader.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none, sfw fluff!! takes place post-canon.

꒰ wc: ꒱ 1745 (got carried away again…)

✦ i’m scared to reread this, but right now I’m actually happy with it!! i hope you are too!! <333 i tried my best to keep spoilers to a minimum, and to make this fun to read!! also, the title comes from the song shelter by ray lamontagne, which i listened to while writing it. i hope you enjoy!!!

With your party’s adventure finally over, you had decided to try and finally settle down as much as you could. With everyone finding their own new place in life, you did your best to find one too.

You couldn’t deny it had been rather lonely lately. Your own home was empty, a small place you had tried your best to make feel cozy. With your old party members living their own lives, you hoped you could live yours. But evidently, no matter how hard you tried, your mind always went back to him.

It was a bittersweet feeling; imagining him finally living healthily, working on helping others, and even maybe starting up that shop he talked about wanting. It wasn’t like you never saw him, but going on with every day life without him felt… mundane.

Chilchuck was working on himself, reconnecting with his family, and building the future he had hoped for. That alone helped you feel as much at peace as possible. Your feelings, to you, were not nearly as important as his own happiness. So here you waited, counting down the days you’d get to see him again. Maybe he’d be happy to see you too.

Little did you know, Chilchuck was devastatingly nervous. Buttoning up his shirt with shaky fingers, he tried his best to look as decent as he possibly could. It was the final thing he felt he needed to move on, and he wasn’t going to let himself ruin it. Not this, he told himself. There were some things he refused to let slip through his fingers, and one of them were his feelings he had developed for you.

Through it all, you had been by his side. An integral part of the party, you had built him up when he needed it most. Looking past all the mistakes, all the cynicism he liked to cloud himself with, you proved how much you simply cared. Not only for him, but for everyone. Chilchuck had fallen in love with you, and for once, he didn’t want to push those feelings down.

He had bought the flowers he knew you liked, tied with a sweet ribbon that he felt maybe was a bit too much. In fact, maybe all of this was a bit too much, but he hoped it’d work. Chilchuck even went to talk to Marcille about it all, a sign in his own mind that he was more smitten than he had been in years. Not to mention that he had, in fact, reconnected with his ex-wife, and had gained the closure he needed to take this big of a step. There was nothing holding him back now, and he could only hope the words of encouragement he was given would hold true.

Chilchuck had visited your home before, always noting just how comfortable he felt there. You were always happy to have guests lately, and he felt himself praying that this would be the case this time, too. Fist raised in front of your door, he took a deep breath before rapping it against the wood.

The knock came as a surprise, but not as surprising as the person who was behind it. Your eyes widened, his name leaving your lips in delight. “Chilchuck, hello!” It was slightly out of breath from the sheer excitement you had to try and suppress at seeing him here in front of you. Moving to the side, you motioned him in. “Do you… Want to come in?”

One hand behind his back still, trying his best to not snap the stems of the delicate flowers between his fingers, he nodded. “Yeah, sorry for the sudden visit.”

Shaking your head, you walked inside to prepare him something to drink. “Not at all! You know me… I could never say no to seeing you.”

It felt like another of Cupid’s arrows shot him through the chest. Maybe he shouldn’t look too deeply into your words, at least not yet. Following you inside, Chilchuck found himself trying his best to find anything to look at of interest. The plants on your shelves, the well loved books on the table, the occasional trinket you had decided you couldn’t live without… Everything that made it feel so much like you.

While you fiddled around in your small kitchen, Chilchuck cleared his throat. His mouth felt dry, and to try and slow down the thoughts rushing through his head, he spoke up again. “You know… You’ve done a great job with this place. I remember when you bought it.”

You couldn’t help but smile, thinking back fondly of how proud you were. Preparing you both glasses of wine, you turned your attention to him for a moment. “That means a lot, thank you. How have things been with the guild?”

Chilchuck hummed, eyes studying a particular painting on your wall. “Good… Pretty much the usual. Things are going pretty well. What about you, anything interesting since we last saw each other?”

Other than your constant war on your feelings for the half-foot, you’ve been trying new hobbies in order to distract yourself. As you turned to hand him the glass, you racked your brain for something to say. Giving him a sheepish smile, you shook your head. “Not particularly. Here, it’s one you like. Let’s go sit, yeah?”

He held your gaze for a moment, the flowers in his hand a constant reminder of what he was here for. Swallowing hard, he opened his mouth to speak. “Yeah. But first, I have something to give you…”

Finally taking the hand from behind his back, he steeled himself as much as he could before holding them out to you. Quickly setting the glasses down, you let out a sound of surprise. Your hands reached out for them, as delicate as possible.

Chilchuck felt like his face was a bit too hot for something as simple as this, but it’s been such a long time since he’s had to really woo anyone. How the hell did he manage to do this all those years ago? Scratching the back of his head, he broke the silence between the two of you.

“They’re your favorites, right? I happened to see ‘em and thought you’d be happy.”

Although Chilchuck felt like he was doing a piss poor job at this, you felt like you were swooning all over again. You know how much he used actions as a love language, yet could you even call it that in this situation? Friends did nice things for each other, yet…

His brows were furrowed in determination, the tips of his ears rosy and suddenly you felt like maybe there was something there. Your gaze fell to the buds in your hands, freshly picked and done so with care. The smile that made its way on your features was unabashed.

“Yes, yes they’re my favorites… I can’t believe you remembered that. Let me go get something to put them in. Thank you so much, Chil.”

It was worth it just to see you smile like that. Even if he felt a little ridiculous at the action, it paid off when you held the vase proudly in your hands. “I’m going to put them on my desk. I love them…” You spoke softly, your own cheeks turning that shade of pink he loved so much. For a few moments, it became silent again, his brain scrambling for what to say next.

“You asked me about my plans after our adventure was over. There… was something I wasn’t honest about. And I want to be honest about it now.”

Chilchuck made sure to correctly word everything he needed to say. Taking time in between his sentences, his gaze returned to yours. There was something there that you had only hoped you’d seen in the past; a taste of desire.

“I want to be there for you. I know we’re no longer coworkers, so…” The words fell silent, you remaining patient through his pauses. Softly, you gave a gentle phrase of reassurance. “You’re already there for me, I know that, Chil—”

Raising a hand, he silenced you. Contemplation took over his features, that worry line between his brows that you always found endearing still making an appearance. You waited for him to elaborate.

“…As more than friends.”

Your heart stopped. Did you hear him correctly? Certainly you did, your voice having gotten stuck in your throat as you tried to wrap your head around the weight those words carried. Was he saying that, this whole time, you’ve been a goal all along? Hearing your name, you snapped your attention back to him.

“I want to be more honest with how I feel. I know how I used to be, and I’m working towards fixing it.” His deep brown eyes held a small glimmer of hope, of vulnerability. Chilchuck was trying, and he was trying for you.

Feeling as if the wind was knocked out of your lungs, you asked shakily, “You want…?”

He smiled, a small etch in his features. Huffing, Chilchuck fiddled with the collar of his shirt. “You’re really gonna make me spell it out for you? I… Have feelings for you. If you don’t feel the same I get it, don’t—“

Before he could finish his sentence, you hurriedly set the flowers down before just about tackling him. The shock of hearing him say exactly what you’d been wishing for so long melted into a need to relay exactly how you felt. Chilchuck grunted at the impact, nearly toppling over.

“Of course I feel the same! You think I’d put up with your grumpy ass for this long if I didn’t?” You couldn’t help the teasing words that followed, pulling away from him to grin widely at him. “Can I kiss you?”

Your excitement caught him even more off guard, eyes widening at your question. “Sorry, that was probably a bit too much—“

Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Chilchuck tugged you to his lips in a desperate attempt to get you to just shut up and do it. You happily obliged, only pulling away to ask one more question. “How long?”

Chilchuck panted, confusion evident on his features. “What?”

“How long have you felt this way?” Your curiosity was getting the better of you, wondering just how long you two had managed to dance around each other like this. Chilchuck sighed, giving the only answer he could think to say:

“Too long.”

— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <3

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿#୨ chilchuck my beloved ୧ #OOUGHHHH IS THIS. ANYTHING.#hoping you like it!!!! as i loved writing it!!!!#worried it doesn’t flow right but….#posts it and runs #dunmeshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader

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mrsmandalorian · 19 hours

Text

Nonsense

-- pedro x singer!f!reader

a/n: howdy everyone! was inspired by Sabrina Carpenter's Coachella performance to write this. let me know if you guys want a second story to Espresso lol. much love to everyone!! -maddie

Summary: A surprise visitor at your first-ever Coachella performance!

main masterlist

Word Count: 4.5k

Song: Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter!!!!!!

Warnings: 18+ mdni, reader is able-bodied, smut!!!, and fluff!, drinking, drug use (edibles and smoking), switch sex, p in v, fingering, sexual teasing, pet names (mi amor, princesa, daddy, baby, baby girl, puppy, angel)

Coachella was one of the most famous music festivals a musician could play at. It was such an honor to be on the setlist. It is incredible to perform a night each weekend in a row. This might be the most significant break in your career. Something felt missing.

The crowd started to get excited as the set time grew nearer. The nerves shot through you as you took deep breaths. You were trying to get over the feelings going through your mind.

“Are you alright?” one of the backup dancers asks as they help you with the earpiece. As you look yourself over in the mirror, you see the beautiful outfit that was personalized to fit you wonderfully, with your hair done beautifully.

You were ready.

“Yes, I am ready!” You smiled at your team as you took hold of your microphone. The band starts playing one of your most famous songs. The lights went dark as the band played the first cords of the song. The crowd roared in anticipation. You slowly stepped out into the darkness and started the melody.

The lights pour onto the stage, and the crowd goes wild. They get the first glance at you with your sexy and luxurious outfit. You smirk to yourself at the attention as you scan through the crowd. All the exciting and loyal fans in the crowd as they sing every verse with you. You follow the dance choreography you have practiced and performed many times. Once the music was going, it was hard not to get stuck into it and forget about the hundreds of people in front of you. The crowd was going wild as they sang along to your new song.

You continued the song as you had images of the reason for it, smirking to yourself. Pedro makes you feel like you're on cloud nine, from how he treats you publicly to the bedroom activities. A few songs highlighted the bedroom activities. You had never written such “edgy, sexy” songs before you met him. The secret love affair had made all of you so happy. He still made you content and secured in your relationship even miles and hours away from him.

As you go through the song and move around more, you look into the VIP areas and see many familiar faces. You don’t pay much attention as you have to end the song. You were so busy entertaining your fans that you did not notice who had slipped into the VIP section alongside both of your mutual friends. You were so focused on the choreography and in your element. The show was a big deal and a performance with dances and graphics for all the songs on the giant screens. You were singing your last song of the night, which was Nonsense. It was one of your favorite songs to perform, as it gave the audience the mood for the evening. The song represented something personal to you: your secret relationship with your new lover, Pedro Pascal, the whole internet’s boyfriend. It was interesting to see social media go crazy over who the song might be for. Some had the correct answers, but it was still a new and private relationship.

The lights fall as the melody starts. “I think that you guys will enjoy this next song! I have seen all the tiktoks, by the way.” You joke into the darkness and receive a wild response from the crowd. You take a few breaths and get into position in a very sexy pose, along with the dancers, waving at the sweet fans who can see you.

“No (La-la, la-la) da-ah-ah, ah (Ah-ah, uh, uh, uh, yeah)”

As the song begins, the spotlight shines only on you. You scan over the crowd with a smirk. It was one of the sexy, edgy songs you wrote because of your lover. There are butterflies in your stomach from nerves to play something as personal as this song, especially for such a big and reactive crowd.

“Think I only want one number on my phone I might change your contact to "Don't leave me alone." You said you like my eyes, and you like to make them roll Treat me like a queen; now you got me feelin' thrown, oh.”

The stage lights illuminate the whole stage as you walk around and sway your hips to the music. During the lyrics, you stop and try to sing with your fans as you make your way to the side of your VIP area to see those familiar faces.

“But I can't help myself When you get close to me Baby, my tongue goes numb Sounds like blah, blah, blee”

As you sing towards the area, your eyes linger over your friend group of non-famous friends to Sarah Paulson, which causes you to smile at them. You continue to scan the section until they land on HIM. The person that this song was written about. He was being his goofy and adorable self as he sang along with you. This causes you to mess up with a blush but quickly recover as the next verse comes.

“I don't want no one else (don't want) Baby, I'm in too deep Here's a lil' song I wrote (a song I wrote) It's about you and me (me)”

The eye contact that he held with you as you sang your filthy thoughts of him directly to him with a huge smirk. You continued to perform as you moved your hips a little more to the choreography because of him. In the following verses, you look away as you sing to your fans.

“I'll be honest Lookin' at you got me thinkin' nonsense Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in And when you got your arms around me Ooh, it feels so good. I had to jump the octave I think I got an ex but I forgot him And I can't find my chill, I must have lost it I don't even know I'm talkin' nonsense I'm talkin', I'm talkin' (ah)”

You twirl your hair and sway your hips back to his side of the stage as your dancers follow close behind you. Make eye contact with him to ensure he is focused on you now.

“I'm talkin' all around clock I'm talkin' hope nobody knocks I'm talkin' opposite of soft I'm talkin' wild, wild thoughts You gotta keep up with me I got some young energy I caught the L-O-V-E How do you do this to me?”

You follow the choreography correctly as you hold flirty eye contact with him. Once you go over the chorus again and start to finish the song, you stand in your final position in the middle of the stage. You send him a wink and blow a kiss, then turn your attention to your fans.

“You guys have been absolutely the best! I hope you all enjoyed it and hope to see you again next weekend! I love you, and please stay safe!” You say after you show appreciation to your band and dancers. You wave and bow as the crowd goes wild and chant your name as the lights go down.

As you run backstage with your crew, laughing and smiling, you give all of them well-deserved love and appreciation. Your manager is there with water and a hug.” You did amazing! They loved you!” they say as you drink your water and wipe the sweat. Now celebrate! Not too hard!”

You follow their instructions as you see your friends run up as you exit the backstage towards your tent. They all sang praises and love and hugged you. After a while, you finally met the handsome brown eyes again, but closer this time. You jog up to him in your tight-fitting outfit with a big smile as the two collide in a hug, throwing your arms around his neck. He was wearing a button-up shirt with the first set of buttons undone, dark jeans, and his oversized glasses and baseball cap.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You say with a smile as you look up to him. He smirked as he got ready to say something witty back to you. You interrupt it with a short but passionate kiss on his lips. “I’m happy you’re here! How long have you been here?” Your hands land on his exposed chest, which makes him pull you closer.

He chuckles at you as he sees the adrenaline still pumping through you as you chatter to him. “I just decided to come to see my favorite person perform at Coachella. My schedule can wait two days. I’ve been here the whole time. You were great, beautiful.” He keeps his voice so no one else can hear your conversation. You feel his hands slide down your hips a little bit. “Also, where did you get this little number, and why haven’t I ever seen it?” Letting his thick fingers run over the design against your lower sides.

The compliments give you a confidence boost on top of your adrenaline rush. You bite your lip as his hands wander slightly until they settle on your lower back. “I planned on changing before we celebrate, but if you like it, I can keep it on.” You whisper into his ear, then look back at his expression.

His eyes darkened from your comment, causing him to pull you a little closer. “I like that idea,” He whispers in your ear as his lips graze your neck with a few pecks. Before you both could continue, your friends gathered you into other event areas. The group stayed together as they went to different stages to watch other artists, including Doja Cat and Lana Del Rey.

Pedro and you both socialized and drank with all your friends as you celebrated your incredible performance. There were edibles taken sometime in all the fun. He would occasionally hold onto you as you both danced closely. You both let loose, and as you can see, everyone was far from wasted. You were letting your bodies get as close as possible, hips grinding onto his. His hands would run down your sides and tease you. Stealing kisses from each other, and the sexual tension was through the roof.

The feeling of being watched makes you look around every once in a while. The camera flashes and excited screams from people around you made you realize that your relationship might not be that much of a secret now. Pedro and you interacted with lovely, chill fans who casually recognized you. You had some groups that would call over to Pedro as “daddy” as he played it off like a champ.

“Vamos, mi amor,” Pedro whispers in your ear as he grips his gentle hands around your waist. You meet his erotic brown eyes that make your cheeks burn hard as you squeeze your thighs together. Pedro was very facially expressive because you could read his thoughts whenever you looked into him. His thoughts were highly naughty, and it was time to go home. “I wondered how you felt about calling it for a night and heading back to your room for a nice bath.”

You look around at everyone in the crew and see your friends slowing their nights down, which doesn’t make you worried about causing another upset. Meeting the brown eyes again, you give him an arguing grin as you throw back your head with a laugh.

“I thought you might like that idea, Hermosa. Let’s tell them all good night and get going,” he whispers again in your ear as he gently pulls you towards your group of friends. Both of you take the time to say goodbye to your friends and thank them for supporting you. Pedro’s loud laugh pulls you away from your friends as you meet his warm eyes. He hugs everyone and draws you into his hip with an arm around your waist. “Goodnight, everyone. Safe travels!”

There were plenty of farewells, naughty things, and cat calls as you leaned against Pedro, who turned around with a silly face and middle finger gesture. He helps guide you to the Uber you take to your hotel room for the night. As you lay your head in his lap, the car ride was full of stolen kisses and laughter.

“You were an absolute star tonight, mi amor,” Pedro says as he traces his fingers along the straps of his outfit, letting his fingers run down to his cleavage. That last song was very cheeky. I wonder who that could be about.”

“Thank you. It was about one of my lovers. You might know him,” You joke with him, trying not to moan. His wandering fingers turn into wandering palms as they slowly paw at your breast.

“Oh, you are playing hard to get whenever I already have you smitten,” he mumbles, only where you could hear him. The car comes to a stop as you arrive at your hotel. You quickly get out of the vehicle as Pedro follows closely behind you. You couldn’t keep your hands off one another as you walked through the empty hotel halls. Acting as strangers whenever you encounter a person, you giggle with each other once you come back together.

Once you find your room, Pedro checks to see if the hallway is clear. He uses a little force with his grip as he leans you against your shut door. Letting his hands explore before they landed on your bottom, kneading your ass. One of his hands comes up to cup your jaw as he lines his lips up with yours, passionately kissing yours. His body closes into yours as you let him control the situation as you follow his lead. After grinding bodies and long, passionate kisses, you pull away, trying to catch your breath as you stare up at him with your cheeks burning. “We should get inside,” you say as you turn around the door, fumbling with the door. Pedro stepped back a little and watched as you struggled a bit.

“Why are you so frizzled, mi amor?” He whispers against your neck and presses the front of his body to your back. Feeling his stiff member against your backside along with his hot breath, almost making you moan out at contact. “Let me help you.” He helps you inside as you giggle and follow him.

Pedro and you have been messing around for a while now. You have not discussed a relationship status or anything, but neither of you hooked up with others. He treats you like a significant other the way he respects your boundaries and doesn’t hide his affection towards you.

“Let’s go put that beautiful bathtub you sent me a picture of yesterday to good use,” he teases you as he takes off his baseball cap, which makes his hair go all over the place. He starts unbuttoning more of his shirt as his chest becomes bare. You can’t resist running your hands down his chest as he looks at you with a smirk.

He spanks your ass hard with a groan because of your hands on him. “Let’s go, sweetheart,” he says as he pats your ass to get you to start moving. Once in the bathroom, turn on the large white tub to create a perfect mix of hot and cold. He grips your hips as he runs his hands to the back of your outfit. “Whoever designed this little piece is a fucking genius. It is beautiful and flatters you greatly.”

“Well, thank you, Pedro. I might have had you in mind when I got it designed. I was going to send you some pictures tonight whenever I came back here,” you smirked and winked at him in the mirror as he helped you undo the outfit. He kissed down your body as the fabric went off, making chills run across your body. The time apart doesn’t affect you emotionally, but how your body reacts tells the absolute truth. The way your heart rate skyrockets as his lips make their way to your mound.

You leaned against the counter for support as your outfit fell onto the floor, leaving you only in underwear. You make eye contact with Pedro as he continues to kiss and lick down your lower half. He hooks his large fingers under the top band of your panties as he meets your eyes for approval. You give him a slight nod and grin as his feather-like kisses follow the material as he pulls them down your legs. Throwing your head back as you try not to make a noise as he runs his tongue just above your clit. You make a frustrated groan as his tongue suddenly leaves your skin, leaving goosebumps.

Pedro chuckles softly as he sees how your body reacts to him, pulling away with a smirk on his lips. He stands up as he pushes his body against yours, pulling your hips into his. “You are such a good girl for me. Your body is always ready for me,” he whispers as he ducks his head to kiss your neck. “Let’s go in, mi amor.” He gets in first so you can sit in between his thick thighs. He helps you as you slide in between his legs, back against his chest. His rigid member pressed against your lower back, his hands tease your nipples after you get settled. He couldn’t help but let his hands wander as he settled comfortably behind you. He rubs out your sore body but lets his hands focus on your most sensitive spots.

His gentle but firm hands run on either side of your hips as his kisses lay on your shoulders. He inhaled deeply against your skin, causing you to tense up your back as it chills down your spine. He moves his hands from your hips towards your mound. You used one hand to spread your left leg apart, holding it still with just one large hand. His right hand found its way down to tease your slit, playing with your sweet lips. You felt the member on your back begin to throb as he slightly rubbed himself against you. You let out your needy moans and sounds continuous as he worked his fingers against you.

He kept teasing you and kissing your shoulder and neck with his scruffy face. You had enough of his teasing and rigid member. It was rare that you switched roles, but you were both switches. (You can’t tell me that Pedro is not a switch.) You slide out of his grip as you meet his eyes once you are turned around to face him.

You grasp onto his rigid member, holding yourself up on the sides of the tub. He squirms and lets out a moan as you hold yourself over him. “I’m tired of the teasing, Pascal. It’s my turn,” you say as you ease your entrance slowly onto his throbbing tip. You find a comfortable position for your legs as you keep going up and down on his tip. He lets out a loud ‘fuck’ and moans as he squeezes his eyes close. His hands move to your hips, letting you take control. You start to ride him as you push your breast into his face.

One of his hands moved from your hips to grip your tit, “who gave you permission to touch me?” You whisper almost into his ear as he looks up at you with big brown eyes.

“Sorry, miss,” he whimpers back as your speed of volatile movements onto his cock increases. He leans back and rests his arms on the back of the tub as he lets you ride the hell out of him. He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes as he groans out in pleasure. “Fuck, mi amor.”

“You like this, don’t you?” You firmly ask him as you force his face into the middle of your tits. He starts to motorboat your breast as you suffocate him gently. The scruff from his face makes you more sensitive than you thought, riding his member harder. “You start fucking me hard, baby. Thrust your big cock into me.”

He meets your eyes with pleasing brown eyes to satisfy your needs. His pleas make you smirk as you nod. Pedro begins to slam his hips into you, moaning as he does. “Thank you, thank you for letting me fuck you.” He pants as he thrusts deep inside of you, feeling his throbbing member hitting every spot.

He grips your body, and his thrust begins to become more rapid as you continue to ride his giant member. Every thrust has the purpose of pleasing you; his hand works its way back up to your breast. He plays aggressively with your nipple, pinching and sucking on it. His other hand gripped onto your ass as his rhythm stayed deep and hard. The overstimulation of his hands and the member inside of you causes you to scream out in pleasure, “Good puppy.” You whimper as you feel your orgasm coming sooner as he leans up and thrusts into you. Pedro chose the pet name on one of the first nights you had taken control of the action.

Eventually, with his rapid thrust and wandering hands, your body starts to shake as you are overcome with pleasure. “Keep going, puppy,” you whimper as he continues to work out your orgasm. “Such a good puppy.” You whisper as you run your hands over his chest. Your body falls into his as you overcome your orgasm, gripping onto his as he continues to pleasure you. He pulls out and fingers your wet pussy, licking his fingers after you finish.

You both lay in the tub for a while as you overcome your orgasm. He held you as you came down from your high, kissing your head. “Was that good for you, mi amor?” He asks gently as he pulls you into his chest. He moved the hair from your face, rubbing his hands down your waist.

You gently nod against him as the day catches up with you. After a few minutes, you get tired of the cramped space of the tub. “Let’s get out, baby,” you mumble to him as you lean up, earning a grunt in return. The guilt of not pleasuring Pedro silently overcame you as you exited the bathtub.

The sound of a low grunt makes you return to the tub as the broad man emerges. You smile mischievously at him as he glances up to meet your grin. His member is still very much erect as he steps in front of you. The fun part of being switch partners was that it could change in a flash. You give Pedro a knowing look as he meets your eyes and stands before you. His eyes and grin light up on his face as he gently guides you onto the counter behind you. “My turn, princesa,” he mumbles and spreads your legs apart as he pushes himself in between them. He pulls your body towards the edge of the counter so your legs wrap around him.

You lean your back against the counter as he holds your lower half, rubbing his throbbing cock against your slick entrance. He leans over your body, sucking on one of your nipples to get a reaction out of you, which it did as you let out a loud moan. Your body reacted as well as it pushed farther onto his member. You both let out a pleasurable sound as his tongue runs down your chest to your stomach. Your hips start to tease him as they grind against him, which causes him to spank the side of your ass. “No, ma’am, it’s daddy’s turn,” he smirks up at you as he moves one of his hands to your nipple. His fingers quickly fondle your right nipple as you moan loudly. “You let daddy fuck your sweet, sweet pussy?”

You let out a satisfied groan as his hand moved down your entrance, gently rubbing you as his thumb ran over your sensitive clit. After gently teasing your pussy with his fingers, he lubed himself up with his fingers from your wetness. His large member enters you again as he holds onto your hips. He pushes inside slowly as you both let out moans.

“You’re so fucking wet, angel. Did ya miss daddy?” He asks as he grips your hips harder, thrusting inside of you. You give a desperate nod as your hands grip onto the edge of the counter. Pedro takes his time as he edges himself in and out of you, giving you all the praises. He pulls up your upper body so your bodies grind against one another, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other holding your back. “Good girl.”

The friction from the position on your mound makes it hard not to moan and squirm in pleasure. His thrust becomes more rigid and repetitive as his grip holds you gently but firmly. You could feel your orgasm approaching as well from the position. “I’m about to cum, Daddy,” you whimpered as you gripped his firm broad shoulders.

His mouth meets your ear as he groans into your ear. His heavy breathing makes your back arch and push into his thrust more. “Wait for me, baby girl,” he mumbles into your ear as his thrust becomes more sloppy. “Come for me, angel.” He sets you down on the counter as his hands grip your breast, twiddling your nipples with his thick fingers.

Before long, both of you came together with your bodies grinding against one another, along with satisfied noises.

Pedro’s warm brown eyes meet yours before he kisses you. The two of you might not have a title, but the sparks were there every touch. “Such a good girl, angel,” he says as he gently pulls out of you. “Let’s take a quick shower.” He helps you into the shower, where the two of you help wash one another and joke around with stolen kisses in between. After getting ready, Pedro carries you into bed as the two of you order dessert from room service. The rest of the night was full of laughter and heavy makeout. The two of you cuddle up to some cheesy movie and fall asleep midway through it.

These were the perfect nights for you to write a whole album about your feelings for this cheeky, handsome man.

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