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melodygatesauthor · 5 months

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Painted

Laurent LeClaire X f!Reader

Not Beta Read

Summary:

You're a woman alone at the bar and you witness an argument between a husband and wife. The wife leaves, and you're left alone with her sexually frustrated husband.

Tags/Warnings (for entire series):

NSFW, dubious consent (reader doesn't say yes to Laurent but it's clear that she's into it), smut, a tiny sprinkle of angst, pussy eating, blowjob, playing with cum, p in v creampie, sex with a stranger, unprotected sex, semi-public sex.

Word Count: 2.7k

You saw the whole argument unfold. The man shouting at his wife in the busy Paris bar. She, clearly filled with disdain for her spouse, climbed on the table and spread her legs for him. He undid his belt, pulled his thick cock out and tried to bring it to life. You wondered if he was struggling because he’d had far too much to drink, or if the couple hated each other so deeply that she didn’t pique his desires any longer.

Either way, after she left, you were the last person in the bar, and he looked right at you.

He sauntered over, wiping a bit of drool off his chin as he got closer to you. Your breath hitched in your throat and you felt your cheeks burning. He chuckled, breath stinking of alcohol as he brushed the back of his index finger over your neck.

“Your skin is soft,” he commented, biting his lip. “I’d love to paint you.”

You didn’t protest as he lifted your rear onto the table behind you. His fingertips brushed over your inner thigh, trailing along until they reached your underpants. His breath trembled as his face drew closer to yours.

“You wouldn’t tell me no, would you?” He tucked a finger into your underwear and started pulling them down your legs carefully, as if he were still waiting for you to push him away. He discarded them, putting both hands on your knees and parting your thighs wide. “You’ll always keep these legs open for me, won’t you chérie?”

“Mm,” was all you could mutter as you felt the fat tip of his cock pressing against your entrance.

It had been so long since you’d been in the company of a man, and your eagerness was made apparent by the slick arousal dripping out of you. It clearly wasn’t the drunkenness that made him flaccid, the man had no issue spearing through your tight hole like it was his. He breathed out a moaning sigh, rolling his hips at an even, lazy pace.

He leaned in, mouth closing over yours as he shoved himself deeper, hand reaching under your leg to push it back, spreading your thighs wider for him. You gasped, mouth open over his while the bar was filled with your sounds. He nipped at your bottom lip, his other hand sliding up to grab your breast which was still trapped behind the bodice of your dress.

“Your body is so beautiful, sweetheart. Such a shame I don’t have time to really admire it,” he chuckled, slipping his tongue past your lips and entangling it with yours.

He pushed you back, mouths parting before you could protest, so your spine was flat along the table. With a swift tug, he gripped where your dress concealed your breasts and pulled it downward. Both of your tits spilled out, bouncing in time with his thrusts. His flushed cheeks became more prominent with his drunken grin. A low groan emerged from his lips as he leaned down to catch one of your nipples in his mouth.

“Oh, sir, oh god!”

He sucked and bit at your nipple like he was desperate for it. His body moved faster, both hands reaching down now to hold onto your hips for leverage. You couldn’t feign modesty anymore, your pleasured screams filling the empty bar and likely spilling into the back streets of Paris.

“Oui, mon chérie, keep squeezing yourself around me like that and I shall paint your insides white,” he whispered against your breast.

You grabbed the edge of the table, spine arching backward and legs spreading wider as he drove deeper into you than before. You felt him reaching the deepest parts of your center, the tip of his cock brushing in a smooth motion against that spot inside of you that made your body tremble. You were weak, a distinct tingling pooling in the pit of your core and spreading all over every inch of your skin.

“Oh god, oh-my-oh-oh!”

In an instant you came. Your entire body gave in to the sensations around you: his mouth over your breast, his tongue flicking masterfully at your nipple, his hand holding onto your outer thigh and squeezing it tightly. You felt everything as though every nerve ending in your body had caught fire.

“Your face is perfection at the height of your pleasure,” he whined, the tone of his voice heightened as his orgasm drew nearer. “The next time we meet, I s-shall, oh-for-god’s-sake, I shall have you touch yourself so I can paint the exact moment when you…”

His hips slammed into yours one final time. A series of choked gasps filled the bar as he made good on his promise to paint your walls white with his hot spend. You liked that feeling of being filled up, even if it was just a stranger at a bar. Perhaps you enjoyed it all the more because it was just a stranger at a bar.

He remained for a moment longer with his body leaned over yours, lips peppering sweet kisses along your sternum as he worked them back up to your neck, your jaw, and then your mouth. His drunken kisses were still sloppy, but you never wanted them to stop.

“What a sweet little muse you are,” he whispered. “I’ve not felt this warmth in my heart for a woman in some time, chérie. I will come back for you every night until my legs no longer work, and you will let me paint you every time, won’t you?”

You nodded, feeling his cock fall out of your hole as it softened. The sound of cum trickling from your cunt tapped like a leaky faucet on the stone floor. With another feather soft kiss, the man stood back from you, looking down at your body with a hooded, lusty gaze. He hardly managed to button his pants, let alone replace his belt, eventually giving up on it all together.

Without another word exchanged between either of you, he stumbled out, leaving you there on the table to wonder if he would ever come back to ‘paint you’ again.

~~~~

To your relief, he did come back, and this time when he saw you he was sober. He had an artist's satchel with him, and he led you to a back room of the dingy bar where no one wandered. The lighting was dim, and you could smell something foul, but you were happy to see the man again. You tried to kiss him, but he interrupted you with a finger to your lips.

“I want you to remove your clothes and sit in that chair for me,” he said sweetly.

Without a word you nodded, beginning to remove your clothes. You dropped your dress and undergarments in a heap on the floor. You walked over to the chair and sat as instructed.

“May I know your name, sir?” You asked.

He chuckled, “and ruin the allure that comes with such mystery? I think not, chérie.”

You had to admit that there was a bit of added appeal to the man when you didn’t know his name at all. He could be anyone, from anywhere, who had done anything, and you’d never be the wiser. There was something very exciting and tantalizing about that prospect.

He set up his kit, several brushes and pigments at the ready. You wondered if the barkeep let him paint in there regularly, as he seemed to have an easel and canvas ready to prop up and start his work. He walked over to you, kneeling down by your feet and running his fingers up your calf and to your knee. You felt your breathing grow shallow as those daring fingertips made their way between your closed legs, his other hand coming up to do the same.

“Open,” he cooed, assisting the spread of your thighs with his large hands prying between them. “Wow,” he mused, “what a wondrous beauty.”

He looked up at you, pretty brown eyes glistening in what little light the dim room afforded you both. He kept your gaze while he leaned forward, the tip of his distinguished nose brushing against your already swelling clit. Your lips parted for a wavering breath. Your hand instinctively moved to tangle in his dark locks. His hot breath melted over your folds.

A moan rolled through him as his lips made contact with your cunt. His tongue slid between your slit, and a sharp gasp punched out of your lungs. You gripped his hair tighter, your hips arching into his mouth as if what he was giving you wasn’t enough. He hummed, facial hair brushing against your thighs softly while his head moved to hit all the right spots.

“S-sir I…oh I can’t…oh-god!”

Save for your pleasured panting, the only other sound in the room was his messy slurping as your arousal coated his face. Every now and then the man would look up at you, eyes caked in a pussy-drunk hunger unlike any you’d ever seen. His grip tightened on your thighs, and his nose continued rubbing in delicious circles around your sensitive clit.

Two of his delightfully thick fingers worked between your pussy lips, sliding slowly forward until he was curling them inside of you, all the while he was working his tongue around your swollen nub. You thought you might fall over, using his hair and your grip on the chair beneath you to establish some sort of stability as your body shook.

He added another finger, somehow managing to fit all three inside you and pump them into your hole until you were nearly choking on the air that filled your lungs. It was all so much, the sensations overwhelming until they washed over your body in waves. You felt your cunt contract, juices gushing around his knuckles and coating his hand while your walls squeezed over him. You moaned, eyes rolling back and you struggled to keep yourself from falling over.

The man looked up at you again, rising on his feet just enough to catch your mouth in his. You could taste yourself on him and after enough hungry kisses, your flavor was gone. He pulled back from you, lips swollen and glossy in the light. He stepped back, unbuckling his pants quickly.

“I bet I can make you look even prettier for your portrait, don’t you think, sweetheart?” He asked, running his fingers over your arm and down to your hand, guiding you off the chair and onto your knees.

The floor was cold and the rough surface made your knees ache, but you didn’t have much time to think about your discomfort before his cock was in your face and distracting you from your thoughts. You knew what he wanted, of course. After all, there was a reason you were on your knees. You wrapped your fingers around it as best as you could, not quite able to meet your thumb on the other side. You lapped the tip, gulping down a sweet bead of precum that had collected there.

“I know you won’t disappoint me, chérie. I’ve had enough disappointment to last a man a lifetime. Take it all for me, and don’t hold bac-k-k.”

He moaned deeply the moment your mouth wrapped around his dick, lips sliding down until you reached the base, relaxing your throat to take the entire length. The thickness of him throbbed inside you, and you felt his hand reach to the back of your head to guide you back. He started churning his hips against your face, gagging you on every inch as his length stretched and filled your throat again and again.

You felt tears start to slip down your cheeks, the salty flavor landing along his cock for you to taste while you kept going. The smell of his musk made your mind go numb with desire every time your nose brushed along his soft tuft of pubic hair.

“You’re going to make the prettiest little model for me when I’m finished aren’t you? Oh this mouth, this mouth of yours is divine.”

You hummed in acknowledgement while he continued fucking your throat. You felt your clit burning with arousal, begging for your touch. Your fingers wandered, slipping between your thighs to quell the ache as it grew. With a gasp your lips slipped off his cock, the strings of your slick saliva connecting you to his red tip. He thrust back into your mouth, his pace even faster.

“Don’t do that again, I need to feel that sweet tongue along every inch of me, sweetheart,” he rasped, a distinct whine playing in harmony with his usual baritone.

You kept your mouth on him, moving your fingers in circles around your clit in time with his thrusts. You could feel him twitch inside of you, cock leaking more of that sweet and savory taste you craved. You felt his body shaking, his movements becoming sloppier as he got closer to spilling into you. There wasn’t anything you craved more in that moment than to have him fill your belly with every bit he could.

Again you found yourself a mess, eyes rolling back in your head and body quaking as your orgasm ripped through you. You kept your mouth around him, the feeling of his cock in your throat felt even better when you were in a mind-numbed state of ecstasy. He fucked faster, the bruising pace gagging you and causing more tears to fall down your cheeks in streams.

He was there. He was right there…

You were shocked, and mildly disappointed when he pulled out of you, shooting hot spurts of his precious cum all over your body. Your face wasn’t the only part of you painted by him, he covered your tits, your neck, and even your thighs.

“There,” he sighed, licking his lips as satisfaction washed over him. “Now go back to your chair, my precious little muse. And keep those pretty legs parted, I want to make sure I get all your best features.”

You slowly stood and strode back in your chair, spreading your legs like he’d told you to. He pulled his pants back up, walking back to his canvas where you saw him grab a small dish and a brush before walking back over to you. He knelt down, holding the dish under your cunt and using the brush to collect your arousal into the porcelain bowl.

“W-what are you–”

“Sh,” he smirked, looking up at you with a mischievous grin. “I’m trying out a new medium, chérie. Keep quiet and let me work.”

He collected your slick until he had a small amount in the dish. He took a bit of his own cum, still decorating your skin in various areas of your body, and he began mixing it with yours.

“Now don’t move, oui?”

You nodded, “oui.”

You watched as he painted, using both your juices to mix the pigment powders he’d brought with him. His eyes darted over the top of the canvas from time to time, narrowed in concentration as he worked. His spend dried on your body and face as the time went on, and you started to feel a bit chill, though you didn’t dare ask to put your clothes back on.

After quite some time he stopped, stepping back with a proud grin sporting his handsome face.

“Come see,” he whispered excitedly.

You walked over to see the painting the man had made of you. It truly was breathtaking, though it was clear the medium wasn’t binding well with the pigment. There were cracks from the dried slick, causing the paint to flake. A heartbreaking sight, but something about it made the creation all the more beautiful. The art piece was temporary, like a quick and wonderful thing that was never meant to last.

Like two strangers meeting a couple of times in a bar only to one day part ways, never to meet again.

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msilwrites · 2 years

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(3AM Story) ODD Women Series- Captivated (Short Story)

A/N: Hi guys, another short story here. Based on how I actually "met"(Actually more like how he first caught my eye) Oscar Isaac, and that was from the movie, The Two Faces of January . I was bewitched (haha!) of course. Then I backtracked and saw his role as King John (oh man you'd get pissed at him, which makes him a good villain) and then there were really creepy roles (LOL!). But the opening of "Star Wars", and seeing his face was what got me BEWITCHED, ENTHRALLED, ENCHANT, CAPTIVATED, HOOKED... the list of adjectives goes on! So I am going to use that feeling that I felt, and create a story out of it. I hope you enjoy this one!

I do not have a name for the FL, so for now, it's (y/n)

For now, this is a one-shot, because I don't know if I will get another inspiration or idea or be provided with such to expand this story.

SYNOPSIS: The first time she first laid eyes on him, their eyes met... and she knew she was captivated... and also in trouble.

C A P T I V A T E D

(Y/N) sighed as she looked around her surroundings, waiting for her friends. They promised they'd be back in five minutes from the loo. But it seems that it will take longer than that, especially now that other guests have arrived, crowding the hallways of the Coliseum theatre. Without a doubt, the queue at the toilets will be long.

It was the opening night for the production "The Barber of Seville". Guests dressed to the nines have already entered the hallways of the theatre. Mingling and drinking champagne that was carried in trays by the wait staff.

When the tray passed her, she refused to take a glass, knowing that it was a bad idea to have a bladder full during the first part of the play. Being a frequent audience during her days in the sixth form, she knew and experienced it first hand. She chuckled at the thought, remembering her younger days. However, it also reminded her that the year that followed were dark, and she had lost her love for the simple things, such as this. But now, as she gradually heals, and moves forward, the appreciation for the small things she loved also came back.

Whilst waiting, her eyes wandered around the posters on the wall, reading about the upcoming productions to watch out for. But when she turned to look at another poster, something else caught her eye.

In the crowded sea of people... there he was, a beautiful man, wearing a sharp, dark blue, double-breasted suit, paired with a black turtle neck underneath. Drinking and laughing, amongst his companions. Deep-set eyes, chiselled face, dimples, wavy, salt-pepper hair added to his strong dignified but not imposing aura. He was the epitome of the word, Handsome!

Damn...

She didn't realize that she had been staring at him for a little longer than she should have until their eyes met. She was frozen in place and did not look away, it was as if his gaze was drawing her to him.

He smiled at her and then winked, and then raised his glass of champagne to her, which snapped her out of her trance. He obviously noticed her, but her eyes still couldn't leave him. She was, without a doubt, captivated by this man.

Alarms started ringing in her head. This feeling was nothing new to her. But she knew she'd be in trouble if she were to linger in it further.

With a sigh, she responded with an apologetic smile, before she turned around and left to head in another direction, away from his curious gaze.

-----

As the crowd climbed the stairs of the theatre entrance, (y/n) and the mysterious man's eyes met again from a distance. But this time, she quickly tore her gaze away and looked for her friends and her respective seats. Thankfully, the man was seated all the way to the other side when she checked. However, when she looked over his direction, there he was, still staring at her.

She quickly looked away once more and paid attention to one of her friends complaining that the environment felt cold, whilst the other reprimanded the primary about not bringing a shawl to keep her warm. Her friends were both dressed in cocktail dresses like most women were inside the theatre, no wonder a lot of them started to feel cold.

And speaking of clothes, it made her curious as to why the mysterious man responded to her with such curiosity. She wasn't even wearing anything fancy. In fact, she could feel still his gaze, far from the other side of the theatre.

Whilst the rest of the women were dressed in show-stopping cocktail dresses, her clothes were composed of a midi pencil skirt and a ruffled sleeve top, which could've made her look like a librarian, if not for the statements jewellery, shoes, and other accessories she paired it with. The coordinates were inspired with comfort in mind. As she wanted to be comfortable inside the cold air of the theatre.

So it made her wonder, as to why he looked at her with such interest, despite the fact that she refused to stand out like the rest.

"Perhaps, he's looking for a new target? a new victim? and I looked just like that?" she inferred. It sounded negative and self-deprecating. But this was coming from somewhere. Suspicion and caution weren't anything new to her. She had bad experiences in the past and had been a target of really terrible guys, because of her naive, insecure, past-self. But quickly reminded herself that she is older, and wiser now, so she should know better. And that man... well... she knew she was in trouble.

She immediately let go of such thoughts, when the theatre lights dimmed, as a sign of the play starting soon.

----------

The after-party was held at some posh lounge bar, not far away from the theatre.

Whilst (Y/N) friends' attention was on the casts of the opera, and orchestra, and going far as to mingle with them. She immediately headed to the buffet table, taking a bit of canape here and there, before intending to go to the bar to order herself a drink. However, she stopped in her tracks, when she saw the man across the room once again.

It only took a few seconds, for him to meet her gaze. With a smile, the man excused himself to his friends, got up, buttoned his blazer close, and seemed to be headed in her direction. His intense gaze never tore away from her.

There it was again, alarms were ringing. Once she realized that he was really headed in her direction, she quickly turned around, walking fast, hoping to lose him in the crowd. Which she thankfully did. When she found him whilst hiding in a corner, looking around for her. she takes another direction to the bar, where he won't see her.

-----

The hour passed like a blur, as she listened to her friend's stories, whilst asking the bartender for another drink.

"(Y/N), that gorgeous man... he's looking at you!" Ivy, her friend whispers in her ears, teasing her.

"Huh? No!" she laughs. "He must be looking at one of you" she states, as she takes a sip of her drink, and looks to see who was it. Much to her chagrin, it was the same man whom she had been ogling at.

Their gaze met once more and after that, he excused himself from the conversation he was having with his friends and then headed straight to her direction, his gaze fixed on her, and the crowded room did not deter him.

"Oh my... he's heading here! he's heading here!" her other friend, Isla, repeated excitedly whilst looking at her.

"Well, it's been a long night my friends, I think I'd be heading home now, just call me out to dinner whenever you're free!" (y/n) says, as she got up from the stool, planning to make her escape.

However, before she could even do so, Ivy pulled her back and sat her back down.

"Hey!" (y/n) protested.

"He's coming for you (y/n), it is rude to leave just like that" Ivy teased.

"Yes! (y/n), how can you run away from that!!" Isla chimed in, pointing out how gorgeous the stranger looked.

"Don't be anxious, just be yourself, darling!" Ivy encouraged, squeezing her shoulders.

"Oh come on, he's not coming for me, he's looking at one of you!" was her response, shaking her head at her friends' silliness. However, before she could protest further, the man had already reached them.

"Hi..." was his first greeting to the three of them.

Her friends greeted him with a high pitched "hi" whilst, hers was an octave lower with a suspicious look written on her face.

" There must be something wrong with my eyes—I can’t seem to take them off of you. " was his pick-up line, definitely directed at her. As they had been staring at each other all throughout the night. However, she moved away from his line of sight, which made it look like he was staring at one of her friends.

But her friends pushed her back forward in her seat, and this time, she had no choice but to look straight back at him, unable to look away from those mesmerizing pair of warm brown eyes.

"Well (y/n), he clearly means you, darling!" Ivy winked at her, and Isla mouthed "enjoy!" before they left.

"Wait, you're just leaving me?" she complained, turning in their direction, however. Before she could stand up and catch up to them, the man had sat on the barstool next to her, dashing her hopes of escape.

"Oh... I" she was speechless, especially now that this beautiful man was finally right next to her.

"Hi, how are you?" he asked, as a smile spread across his face. His dimple made him look more adorable.

"I..." this conversation was finally happening. She paused for a while, and then decided to be herself. There was no use pretending to be someone else because it would be tiring. She was no longer the needy, young girl who aimed to please. If this man loses interest in her during the conversation, though it might be painful, then so be it.

"I'm fine... doing well, If I was any better, then vitamins would be taking me. Why do you ask? are you a doctor?" was her witty response. And with that, he threw his head back laughing. Finding it hilarious.

"No, I'm not a doctor... but I do manage a pharma," he said, referring to his posts as the current CEO of a large pharmaceutical.

"I see... so you're a drug dealer then!" she exclaimed.

Another hearty laugh came out of him, "You are amusing!" he lets out. "Yes, I suppose I am." he leans back and looks at her, his eyes and mouth wrinkled as his smile broadens. "Oscar..." he stretches his hand out for a handshake.

A/N: I will be doing some correction just in case I’ve made some errors (which I definitely did!) I’m really sorry if I’ve not written in a while. There was too much in my plate and my health problem. I’m trying my best to let out all this creative constipation, so I’m slowly writing out and publishing my drafts. I hope you enjoyed this short one. As mentioned I do not know when I will get an idea to make a sequel out of it so I’ll leave it a “one-shot”.

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eyelessfaces · 2 months

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about time we found each other again.

leto atreides x reader

summary: even years after your wedding got called off, leto is not sure he truly really got over you.

warnings: implied cheating (I am so sorry lady jessica I love you), death of a parent, angst, probably inaccurate dune lore stuff my most sincere apologies I did my best

tags: f!reader, arranged marriage, first love, love confessions, estrangement, time jump where the second part takes place a few years before the first movie (this doesn't matter at all tbh)

word count: 2.1k

this is my first time writing for leto so I hope he's alright lol<3

When you came to meet Leto Atreides for the first time, it was instantaneous; maybe you couldn't rightfully affirm it with conviction yet, but some deep part of you immediately knew that you desired him to be the one by your side for the rest of time.

He had been the only other person around your age when you and your family attended a special meeting on Caladan, and you could very well feel your heart beat faster and your cheeks burn hot at each of his furtive glance thrown your way and each slight smirk over either of your faces when your gaze met his.

Maybe leaving your home land and being sent to eventually move to Caladan wouldn’t be as bad as you had thought, after all.

And it wasn't. You quickly, borderline scarily quickly fell in love with Leto, you were sure of it by now. His manners were those of a man of respect, and he was kind and compassionate, he didn’t have the over excessive pride you would expect from a destined duke.

And ultimately, you grew to also be almost pretty sure that he felt the same way towards you, from the way he listened to you with no feigned interest whenever you shared stories with him, from the way his warm brown eyes so gently looked over at you, from the way he always made sure you were treated right.

You remembered it to be a warm evening when he officially confessed his love to you.

You had been walking mindlessly through seemingly never ending fields, talking about anything and everything for what felt like a lifetime, eventually stopping to lay down and watch the sun set.

Leto had settled on gently putting flowers in your hair while you told him about your childhood on your home land, smiling radiantly as he admired you lovingly, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand before he leaned in to kiss you.

Your own hand was quick to find his dark curls neatly slicked back as he hovered over you, the tip of his fingers delicately tracing your face and neck before he pulled away from your lips when it became absolutely necessary.

From there, the sunset and everything else became insignificant, everything could be crumbling around you and you wouldn’t pay it any mind; nothing mattered, not when Leto promised to love you until his very last breath here in the middle of nowhere.

So when you eventually had your parents visit you on Caladan and announce to you that you had been sent there for them to agree with the Atreides upon arranging a marriage with Leto, you couldn’t be happier and it couldn’t be more convenient; you would have chosen him anyway, if given the choice.

Leto had the competence of making everything seem so easy, and he turned out to be quick to ease your worries about your upcoming future as a duchess.

Even under the looming political pressure of your marriage, this wedding meant a starting point for the rest of your life, a part you could not wait to share with him, even if it meant a lot of responsibilities and changes.

Then so suddenly, all at once, it all fell apart, everything.

It was late in the night when you and Leto were laughing and dancing, rehearsing for the forthcoming wedding. Servants had knocked onto your shared room door, and Leto’s hand left your waist as he scurried away to answer the door, opening and making way for them to enter the room.

They came in with a polite nod, one of them unrolling a parchment letter, reading out loud to the both of you.

The letter was from your father, announcing the news that your mother had died while on a mission, resulting in the need of your presence at your home land to take over her legacy and responsibilities for a while.

You didn’t understand what it involved right away, maybe from the shock of the sudden, dreadful news, the loss of your mother too hard to swallow.

You didn’t understand that it meant that you and Leto were bound to be no more, that either of you were now assigned to different fates and responsibilities, that the marriage was therefore called off for the moment being.

And you quite certainly didn't realize that the night you spent tossing and turning around your shared bed with eyes wide open until the sunrise was the last night by his side, that the morning you left was the last time you would see him.

Until years later, what felt like a lifetime.

When you came back to Caladan for political and business reasons, it was only because of the absolute necessity of your presence, otherwise you wouldn't have shown up.

Finding him again after so long drowned you right back again in the same hollow feeling you endured the moment you were drawn apart years ago, and while you mirrored his polite nod and smirk, you couldn't help but still feel the pain of being estranged so brutally, of seeing him again after so many years.

He was wearing the slowly appearing gray streaks of hair beautifully, and the beard suited him like he was made for it; it made his handsome face look a bit more harsh and severe, but he was a duke now, after all.

You lightly cleared your throat as you made your way to leave the meeting once it was over, troubled as you could feel the weight of his gaze burning holes through you all along. You could feel your heart pound through your ribcage the exact same way it used to when he held you when you were younger, and you ultimately came to the rotten conclusion that your stay here in his presence would be a tough, challenging time for you, and that dwelling on the past had been a bad idea, exactly like you had anticipated it to be.

—

It was wonderful out there, just like you had remembered it to be. The view from the balcony offered you an endless panorama over Caladan and its lush lands, and while you loved your home land with your whole being, you couldn’t deny missing living on Caladan.

The fresh breeze of the night was nothing but pleasant, and even though you were slowly starting to feel goosebump growing over your skin, you figured the view of the sun starting to set was more important.

“I thought I could stay focused while in your presence.” you recognize his voice all too well, and you wonder if the shiver running down your spine is caused by his sudden apparition or the wind hitting you. “I was deeply wrong”

“Leto,” you chuckle sheepishly, blushing as you turn around and face him.

A bittersweet smile has quirked upon his face, and he steps further and approaches you. The years have been unkind to him, lines of wisdom and experience growing upon his face transforming him into a man hardened by duty. Yet, beneath the rough facade, you can still see the eyes and soul of the man you once knew and loved.

“Why only now?” he asks, a certain helplessness painted across his face.

“What?”

He sighs as he looks away, licks his lips as he walks besides you and grips the barrier of the balcony with both hands. You only hear the wind as you watch and wait for him to do, to say something.

“This should have been yours. All of this” he mutters, gaze fixed on the sight before him. The clouds look like cotton ripped apart and spread through the wide sky, and the sun setting over Caladan turns them into an abnormal color, one you wouldn't even be able to define. “I waited for you.” Leto declares, head turning to look back at you like he is trying to figure out how you feel or waiting for you to say something.

Your eyes close as a small exhale leaves your mouth. “Why should it matter now, Leto” you scoff, turning away to try to escape his gaze, heavier than you remember.

“It has always mattered” he declares, following your steps as you try to inch away from him. He calls your name in a weak plea, his hand coming to rest over your arm. “Look at me. Please”

You do. You turn back to him, and he looks at you like you will be slipping away from him any moment now, like you're just a ghost, like you're water in his bare hands. “Tell me you did not think of me all those years and I'll leave you alone.” he whispers feebly, face close to yours as he still holds onto your arm, and you can feel your breaths mingling from how close he is to you.

His unwavering gaze is locked on yours, desperately waiting for you to say something. Eventually, your lack of response speaks for itself, and he nods slightly. “That's what I thought.”

“Leto.”

His hands come to cup your face, holding it steady as with a sigh, his forehead rests against yours. Your eyelids fall shut under the weight of it all and you exhale softly, your hand wrapping around his wrist, stroking along his forearm.

“I have loved you since I met you. I should have found you and married you regardless.” he mutters, barely louder than a whisper. His declaration makes something flutter deep in your core, and you grimace like his words feel sour to hear. You should have done it differently, should have come back to Caladan after everything went back to normal after your mother's death.

“And your wife?” you rhetorically ask, with a dubious scoff.

“She's not– we never married.” he shakes his head, pulling away from your forehead to look back at you, your hand falling to your side again when you let go of his arm. His gaze and the way his eyebrows are angled weakly are conveying everything you need to know, confirming every conclusion you made.

Your lips part slightly, some part of you refusing to believe in what he's indirectly telling you, refusing to believe that he gave up on some part of his life waiting for you.

“We were promised a marriage together, a life together” he continues, taking hold of your hand, fingers lacing with yours tentatively. “I always hoped you would come back and we would resume our life together where it stopped.”

“Now still?” you weakly ask, equally pained and somehow flattered that he never really got over you.

Again, the lack of answer and his previous actions prove the point, and you hold his hand tighter when you swallow with difficulty. Your other hand slightly trembles when you reach to touch his face, settling to rest at his bearded cheek, and you smile weakly as you trace the lines that you never got to witness appear.

“We were so young” you smile, drawing one out of him. The corners of his lips turn upwards as his hand covers your own over his face, pulling it to bring it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles softly, the feeling of his warm breath over your skin taking you years back.

“Don't go back.” he begs against your hand, his voice wavering a little. There’s a glint in his eyes as his gaze darts up at you that makes it impossible for you to consider refusing and giving up on him again. “You belong here.”

Your eyebrows knit in uncertainty as you tear your gaze away from him, looking at the endless view again. You can't help but overthink every consequence coming back to Caladan is going to involve, for you as much as for Leto, and especially for his own concubine that is at this point already long forgotten by him.

This is unfair, but some part of you acknowledges your younger selves feelings and remembers how devastated you were to leave him; leaving again while knowing that he still cares after so many years and regrets not marrying you may hurt even more.

“This will make people talk, Leto.” you wince, looking back at him.

He shakes his head carefreely. “Let them.” he affirms with a dismissive scoff as his hands settle over your hips. You grin softly as he pulls you closer, and a soft exhale leaves your mouth when your arms wrap around his neck.

He takes a while to admire your face, how it has changed despite still remaining the one of the woman he fell in love with long ago.

When he kisses you, it is the exact same way he used to when you were young.

—

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 2 months

Text

Why Don't You Punish Me Then? Poe Dameron x F!Reader

For @for-a-longlongtime and this Ask Summary: You and Poe are in denial, but it's clear you're insatiable for one another. Warnings: Bondage, Voyeurism, pet names, public petting, bratty behaviour, switch dynamics, sub/dom dynamics, cucking (with a toy), orgasm denial play, unprotected PiV(but established relationship so some assumed assurances), cable-ties, questionable physics. (Set somewhere in the time Leia is still alive, RIP Space Queen, we love you Carrie <3 ) Thank you @noxturnalpascal and @merz-8 for doing a quick sweep of this for me <3 [AO3] Wordcount: 3.1k

Poe can’t stop touching you under the table during the debriefing. It’s been weeks since you were last in the same room and as impatient as you are to be alone with Poe, he’s kriffing insatiable.

“Stop,” you hiss under your breath as Commander Organa addresses the room. You’re sat at the very back, the lighting around you soft enough that even though you’re practically sat in Poe’s lap, no-one seems to notice – or care.

You two are the worst kept secret in the fleet, but neither of you have the guts to make anything official. It’s hard to place permanent labels on things when you’re in the midst of an intergalactic war.

“Stop what?” He asks as he brushes his lips against your ear, his right hand trailing up the inside of your left thigh as you try not to squirm. Heat pulses through you with every minuscule movement of his fingers as he inches up your thigh.

From the outside, it might look like Poe is whispering something about the mission. The pair of you are known to conspire during meetings, and critique mission briefings, much to command’s ire. But only you are privy to the way your cunt clenches at the wet drag of Poe’s tongue against the shell of your ear.

“You’re going to get us in trouble,” you hiss, your breath catching in your throat as you feel two thick fingers stroke against the front of your jumpsuit, “Quit it.”

“You need to work on your poker-face,” he taunts you as he rubs firmly up and down against your clothed cunt. You have to stifle a moan at the way the friction makes your toes curl. Heat pools in your core and you stop yourself from bucking your hips to chase the delicious friction.

“You need to stop, seriously,” you snap as you gently prise his hand away from your aching core.

“Or what? Are you going to punish me?” Poe rasps in your ear as he entwines his fingers in yours, guiding your hand to his lap. You bite your lip as you feel his hard cock swelling under your fingers as he holds your hand against the front of his tight pants.

“You deserve it, horny asshole,” you hiss as you notice Leia’s eyes wander over to the pair of you.

“Do you two have something you’d like to share?” She asks, looking pointedly between you.

“No ma’am.”

The pair of you say in unison and Leia rolls her eyes at you before continuing. You can almost hear her telepathically telling you two to get a room.

“See how you make me feel?” Poe continues his verbal assault on your self-control as he slowly grinds his clothed dick against the palm of your hand. His hand is back on your thigh now, but you don’t move your own from his cock. You’re practically salivating at the promise his rock-hard bulge infers.

“I do,” you breathe as you grip him through his pants, “But I don’t think you deserve to be rewarded for this behaviour, Dameron.”

“Why don’t you punish me then?” He growls in your ear as you feel his thick fingers grind against your clothed clit.

“Meet me in my quarters,” you snap as the meeting finishes up and the rest of the mission crew depart. You catch Leia giving you an amused grin as you leave, you swear one of these days she’s going to call you out on your joint bullshit, but not today. She knows you two have some catching up to do.

~*~

Poe crashes his lips against yours the moment your door opens, pinning you to him with his large hands on your hips. You lean into his strong form as you lick into his pliable mouth. He walks you back to the bed and before he can push you down you hook your foot behind his ankle and push him off-balance. You turn him around deftly as you press him down onto your small cot.

“Missed you so much,” he groans as he pulls you flush against him, one hand pawing at your right breast as the other slides the zipper of your jumpsuit down.

“Missed you too, now strip,” you bark as you slide back off his lap, continuing to undress as you watch Poe scramble to pull off his clothes. His eager eyes are on you as he lies bare, his thick cock weeping against his abdomen as he looks up at you.

“So needy,” you admonish him as you continue to slowly peel off your suit. You kick off your boots and stand there in your cotton panties and bra as he fawns up at you, “You’re being punished remember? Up on the pillows like a good boy.”

Poe whines softly at the condescension in your tone but does as he’s told, shuffling back up against the far wall of the cot.

“Good, arms up,” you order as you crawl up the bed to meet him before leaning down to the nightstand, “Remember your safe word?”

“Geonosis,” Poe recites it quickly, tongue darting out over his dry lips as he watches you, his body twitches as he tries to stay still.

“Good,” you coo as you pull out a bundle of cable-ties, “Stay still.”

You straddle Poe’s hips as you pull out the anchor point from the wall above him, something you’d had installed off the books by one of the ship’s mechanics. Nothing like exchanging a good bottle of liquor and a carton of death sticks for discretion on a Resistance fleet ship.

“Please,” Poe whimpers as you let your tits brush against his face as you loop the cable-ties through the anchor and around his wrists, “Can I?” He asks as he looks between your hardened peaks and your face.

“As long as you promise to be good?” You taunt as you lean forwards, brushing your right breast agains his lips. You stifle a moan as you feel him latch onto the stiff nub.

“Promise,” he murmurs against your skin as he suckles gently on your tit. Your head lolls back as he gently nips at the tender flesh, sending pleasure rippling through your body. You grind your hips forward, your wet slit gliding along his length as he groans into your breast.

“Love your tits,” he mewls as you offer him the second one, he takes it greedily into his wet mouth as he strains against his bonds, “So fucking perfect.”

You let out soft moans as he worships your tits, pressing his face between them occasionally as he mouths at your sternum.

“Please, let me fuck you?” He whimpers and a delicious smirk plays across your lips.

“Begging already? Such an eager boy,” you hum as you lower yourself onto Poe’s lap, the sticky, silken press of his cock against your ass cheeks makes his eyes roll back into his head.

“Please,” he whines again, and you rock your ass back against him a little as he bites his lip, his eyes glassy with desire as he pleads.

“No,” you say as you lean forward to press your lips against his, “You’re just going to have to watch.”

Poe’s face drops as he registers your words, pulling on the cable-ties as they dig into his wrists. His jaw tenses as you move backwards off him, making sure to drag his tip through your soaked folds as you do.

“You’re being cruel,” he pouts, but you can see the ghost of a smile on his lips as he tries not to show quite how much he’s enjoying this. It’s supposed to be punishment after all.

You pull a flat-bottomed desk chair up to the base of the bed, positioning so that the seat is in perfect eyesight for Poe. You secure the maglocks on the chair legs with a solid thunk against the Durasteel floor. You don’t want to risk toppling over mid-flow.

Once you’re happy the chair is secure, you rummage in one of your closets for a few moments before turning back to see Poe’s eyes trained on you. He’s beautifully desperate as his stumbled jaw ticks to the side, eyes almost bulging out of his head as his feet twitch in anticipation.

You saunter back over to the chair and with a flick of your wrist you slap a large silicone cock onto the chair. You’ve practiced this so well that the suction cup at the base takes first time. The black dildo wobbles precariously and Poe’s dick twitches as you steady it with your hand.

“If I can get myself off before you come, I’ll let you fuck me, however you want,” you explain, your voice low and dripping with challenge as you position your hips over the bulbous head of the black silicone dick, “So hold on tight, flyboy.”

You ease yourself down, groaning as you slowly spear yourself on the thick cock, your cunt is slick and inviting from all the teasing Poe had put you through earlier. You plant your feet on the floor, engaging your core as you start to move.

“Kriff, wish that was me,” Poe whines as you watch his hips buck up, chasing friction where there is none as he pulls on the cable-ties. His eyes are hooded as he watches your cunt take the toy with ease.

“Look at that needy cunt,” he growls, “Taking that fake cock so well,” he continues, and the gravelly rasp of his voice sends a lick of flame down your spine.

“Feels so good,” you sigh as you take the last few inches, the life-like toy rakes through your walls as it stretches you out, “So full,” you mewl as you drop your dominant hand down to your clit, the other hand tweaks each of your nipples in turn.

“Yeah? Feel as good as my cock?” Poe asks as you watch precome bead on his tip and leak down his shaft.

“Different,” you say as you wiggle your hips, making sure the toy is as deep as it can go.

You whine a little as you start to move, dropping one hand to steady yourself on the chair before rising all the way to the tip of the cock before letting yourself slide back down. You toy with your clit in slow, firm circles as you try to keep your eyes open and focused on Poe.

“Oh yeah,” Poe growls as he aimlessly thrusts up into the air as he watches you impale yourself on the toy, “Putting on a show for me, so kriffing hot.”

“You like it?” You pant as you start to rhythmically fuck yourself on the toy, “Like watching me cuck you with a fake cock?”

“I hate it,” Poe whimpers as you watch another pulse of precome leak from his tip, “Want to drag you down on my dick and fuck you dumb until all you can think about is begging for me to fill that sweet little cunt with my come.”

“Poe,” you whine as his vulgar words make you clench hard around the toy, “Think you can last, big boy? Or are you going to come all over your stomach like a pathetic, needy boy?”

You had intended to take it slow, make Poe fail to prove a point, but the more filth he spills from his pretty lips, the more it makes you greedy. You pick up the pace, fucking yourself in earnest on the slick silicone. Your breath comes in short, desperate pants as you feel your thighs burn with exertion.

“Who’s impatient now?” Poe teases as he bites his lip, his eyes fixed on your cunt as it glistens in the low light of your bunk, “Fucking soaked, fucking yourself so hard, you want my dick don’t you baby? Admit it.”

“Nuh-uh, punishing you,” you whimper meekly as your breathing hitches in your chest. The tight coil of pleasure twists in your core as you chase your pleasure with abandon. All you want is to feel Poe inside you, you’re tired of the games.

“Fucking slut, lying to my face,” he growls and you can’t hold on anymore, your cunt flutters around the toy as you spear yourself over and over as you feel your orgasm rip through you, “There she is,” he purrs as you hear the strain in his voice, “Good fucking girl.”

“Hate you,” you whine as you tremble and convulse, leaning back in the chair as your cunt pulses around the toy still buried deep inside you.

“I know baby,” Poe says, strain evident in his voice as he watches your chest rise and fall, slick pooling at the base of the toy and over the chair as you come down from your high, “Let me make you feel better, make it up to you yeah?”

“Might just leave you tied up,” you grumble, but you’re smiling and Poe’s smirk matches your own.

“Deal’s a deal,” Poe tuts at you as he twists the cable-ties in his fists, “Do you need help, princess?”

You hear the snap of the cable-ties and your eyes fly open as you see Poe up on his knees, already rubbing his chafed wrists.

“How did you-?” You splutter as you try and get up onto your feet but Poe lurches forward on the bed, pinning your hips down as he keeps you speared on the toy. You mewl and writhe from overstimulation, his large hands burning against your slick skin as he holds you there.

“Come on, you really need to invest in a good set of binders,” he hums as he nudges your jaw to the side as he takes your lobe in his teeth, “I’ve gotten out of more complex restraints in far more dire scenarios baby.”

“Poe, please,” you whine as he sucks slowly on your lobe, making you whole body tremble, “Need you.”

“I know,” he says with an edge to his tone, “I’ve got you.”

You cry out as he eases you up and off the toy, your cunt clenching around nothing at the sudden emptiness. You throw your arms around his shoulders as he slots his lips over yours. Poe spins in a slow circle before laying you on your back.

“Meant it earlier,” he mumbles through tender, hungry kisses, “I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too,” you pant as he shifts you up onto the pillows, already lining his throbbing tip at your core. One broad hand is steady on your hip, rubbing soothingly over your slick skin as his thighs hold your trembling legs apart.

“Ready for me?” He asks, a gentleness to his tone as he nudges the plane of his nose against your own.

“Always,” you say softly as you feel his tip breach your stretched out hole.

You sigh in unison as Poe enters you in one swift movement, the hand not holding your hip comes to cup your cheek.

“Isn’t that better?” He breathes as he slowly starts to rock his hips, pulling almost all the way out before pressing back in. No matter how much the toy had stretched you out, there’s a hot, blissful burn as you adjust to the real deal.

“Kriff, yes,” you cry out as he fucks down hard into you, setting the pace as you writhe under him, “I love it, I love it, I love y-!”

You catch yourself before you let the admission slip but you can see it in the way Poe’s face softens, he heard enough.

“I love you too,” he snarls through clenched teeth as he ruts into you harder than before, the tip of his cock grinding against your g-spot as you feel another orgasm cresting deep inside you.

“Not,” you grunt as a smile burns across your lips, “How I wanted to say that,” you giggle a little with exhilaration as you drop your dominant hand to your clit. The other fists in the curls at the back of Poe’s head.

“No better time,” Poe grins, his cock driving into your cunt with wet, desperate slaps, “Kriffing love you.”

You pull Poe’s head down, slipping your tongue between his lips as you feel the blinding pleasure peak inside you. You groan into his mouth as your release bursts through you, your cunt clamping down hard around Poe’s cock as he snaps his hips one last time before spilling deep inside you.

You lie there, tangled, drenched in one another’s sweat, and panting into each other’s open mouths as you can’t stop smiling. Poe peppers your face with gentle kisses as you feel him slip out of you. Immediately you feel your combined spend leak from you, dribbling down your ass and onto the sheets below.

“Why do we always get my sheets dirty?” You groan as Poe rolls off you, propping himself up on his elbow as he trails his fingertips down your chest, splaying his hand out across your belly as he leans down to place a soft kiss to your temple.

“Because you’re the one with the sex anchor in your quarters,” he grumbles and you can’t help but laugh.

“Fine, you’ve got a point,” you sigh as you look up into his dark eyes as they shine with affection.

“Did you mean it?” He asks softly, brushing his knuckles back up to your breasts, the coarse skin raking across your nipples and making you whine.

“That I love you?” You ask, your voice breathy as you scrape your blunt nails across Poe’s near-permanent five o’clock shadow.

“Yeah,” he breathes as he turns his head to press his lips against your palm.

“I did,” you say, heat prickling under the skin of your cheeks and up to the tips of your ears, “I just didn’t know if we were doing the whole feelings thing.”

“Same,” he admits with a heavy sigh, “But I don’t think I can keep pretending anymore.”

“Yeah,” you yawn as you trace the curve of his plush lips with your fingertips, “We need to talk to command about this,” you say, sobering a little as you feel the harsh tug of reality wrapping around your heart.

“Tomorrow,” Poe says softly as he leans back down to kiss you softly, “Right now we need to get showered and move to my bed, there’s less come on the sheets in my bunk.”

“Ever the romantic,” you laugh as you press your forehead against his.

It takes you another half an hour but eventually you’re tangled together in Poe’s cot, hearts hammering in unison as reality sets in. But for once you’re not running from the truth of who and what you and Poe are.

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 10 months

Text

Caught

Summary: Santiago inviting you and Frankie for his house warming party over the weekend leaves you to spend some nights at his new place. Getting up in the middle of the night to get some water, leaves you finding Santi and his girlfriend in the kitchen. Unable to look away Frankie finds you and decided to have some fun with you too.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem. reader / Santiago Garcia x OFC

Rating: E

Wordcount: 3.5k

Warnings: established relationship, accidental voyeurism, dub con (just cause people are being watched without their consent but the watched people do not mind in the end) smut (oral; fem receiving, unprotected PiV), fluff, dirty talk (the word slut is used twice)

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You usually weren’t a big fan of being stuck in a car for two hours. But Santiago Garcia did not buy a house to settle down with his girlfriend (soon to be fiance) of two years and invite for a housewarming party every day.

And you were always a fan of spending time with Frankie.

You looked at him from the passenger's seat, one of his hands on the steering wheel, the other one on your thigh. He had the aviators on that you gifted him for his last birthday after he broke the pair he had before. The gray shirt he was wearing was tight around his upper arms and you could see a tiny bit of the tattoo he got earlier this year.

God he was gorgeous.

“See something you like?” he hummed, a smirk sneaking to his lips as he caught you staring, his hand squeezing your thigh.

“See something I love,” you clarified and he smiled, his dimple showing and you swore you could see his cheeks blushing.

You and Frankie have known each other since you were four years old. Growing up as neighbors until he left to join the army made you spend endless summers together.

But you hadn’t started dating until a little over six years ago.

With him joining the army and you eventually going abroad to study you very much lost contact. After you got your degree you moved to Boston for work and only came back to the tiny town you grew up in for family celebrations or holidays.

But then your mother died and you decided it was time to go back home to help your father.

It was on your 26th birthday that Frankie showed up on the doorstep of your childhood home with a box of donuts and a bottle of whiskey, looking like he had been through hell and back. You would only learn much later that he had been.

Your friendship really just picked up where you left off, just with you both legally allowed to drink booze and adult problems.

And feelings that hadn’t been there before.

You remembered that you talked on your birthday until the early morning hours, Frankie telling you little about the army, about the divorce he was going through, about his little girl he wanted to be the best father too, about his drug addiction. Much like you told him about the man you had broken up with before you moved back home because he insisted you stay where you belonged. With him in the city. He didn’t care about your family or your feelings for that matter.

Not that you thought you would marry the guy, but it still hurt to be so wrong in someone you loved.

He told you everything about his little daughter Carina. She was his whole world.

She was also the reason he and his ex-wife had tried to make their marriage work but decided in the end that they were better off as friends.

Carina and you became fast friends, even though you still think it was because of the huge amount of cookies you had baked with her and Frankie the first time he had invited you over to meet her.

You started to spend more time together after that.

You went on drives, you cooked together, you even went on a weekend trip into the woods where you met all his army brothers. It was the most fun trip you ever had been on.

But something changed throughout the months after that. Touches lingered longer. Hugs seemed… tighter and more intimate. And then came his 34th birthday.

His divorce was final, his three year old daughter was staying for the whole weekend and he had decided that it was time to teach her how to swim.

The three of you spend the whole day at the local swimming pool. You brought muffins and sang happy birthday for him with his daughter before he blew out the one candle you had put on one of the muffins.

When you asked him if he made a wish he only nodded at you with a small smile.

It was the perfect day.

Carina fell asleep before Frankie’s truck was even off the car park, making both of you chuckle. You stopped to pick up pizza on your way home, you insisted you pay because after all it was his birthday. When you came out of the pizza place, Frankie was leaning against his car, waiting for you.

You put the pizza on your seat, waiting for him to go back to the car but he didn’t so you leaned next to him against the car, bumping your shoulder towards his.

He took a deep breath before he came to stand in front of you and you still could feel the butterflies in your belly when he looked into your eyes, his fingers brushing over your cheek. They never really went away since that day.

“What did you wish for Frankie?” you had asked and he had smiled softly.

“A birthday kiss,” he whispered. You licked your lips.

“Then come and get it,” you whispered back.

You would never forget this first kiss with him in the parking spot in front of a pizza place in your home town.

That was six years ago and you have only grown closer ever since.

By now not only your family but all friends were asking when you would get married and have children on your own.

Both you and Frankie told them to fuck off on a regular basis but they did not seem to get the hint.

If they knew you had been married for the last three years they would lose their minds. You got married on a beach while you were both on vacation in mexico. The only witness the older man who married you early in the morning at sunrise.

But Frankie and you had a bet going how long it would take for anyone to notice.

When he had asked you to marry him you had gotten him a ring too, so seeing the both of you with rings was not something out of the ordinary.

“Can you believe that he’s going to propose?” you asked Frankie when you entered the town Santi had moved into. He had started his own Security firm here and met Tina, his girlfriend, who owned the flower shop across the street from his office.

You had heard the story a million times, but the thought of Santiago Garcia buying all kinds of flowers on an almost daily basis for a month until he had finally asked her out still made you laugh.

“I couldn’t believe Benny getting married too, so anything is really possible,” Frankie joked and you laughed.

You would be staying at Santi’s place for four nights. The house warming party was in two days and Frankie had agreed to help Santi with the finishing touches of the back porch which left you and Tina mostly laying in the garden, watching your men sweat and work shirtless while offering occasional Lemonade.

You were very thankful the guest bedroom was in the basement when Frankie railed you in the shower after, his hand over your mouth to suppress your moans.

Sex with Frankie was ….

You still couldn’t believe he was the first man who ever made you cum on his cock. He was only satisfied when he made you cum at least twice.

The day before the housewarming party you spend with Tina in the kitchen. Helping her prepare some salads and dips and things for the party on the next day while Frankie and Santi finished the work on the porch and started putting tables and chairs together.

“I’m gonna make dessert when we come back from dinner,” Tina said. You wanted to argue but she waved you off.

“Santi is gonna help me. He has a hand for all things sweet,” she winked and you grinned.

You were very tired after dinner. And maybe a little tipsy.

Frankie and you invited them both to a Chinese restaurant where you ate way too much sushi.

Seeing Santi so in love with Tina was not something you ever thought you’d see. He had been living with Frankie for a while when you got back in contact with Frankie and he had a new girl every week. It went on until he decided to go back to Columbia for work.

You were happy to see him so content and happy with the woman he intended to spend the rest of his life with.

Once back at their home you didn’t fight to help with desert anymore, letting Frankie tuck you into bed where you fell asleep almost immediately, not even waking once Frankie got into bed with you after he had taken a shower.

You woke up hours later in his arms. One of his hand holding one of your breasts like every night. He argued he did it unintentionally but you knew how much he loved your tits.

Checking your phone you saw that it was just after 2 am. Sighing you carefully untangled from Frankie, feeling thirsty. Sadly you hadn’t gotten a new bottle of water before going to bed. You put one of Frankie’s shirts on (apparently Frankie had undressed you to your panties after you pretty much passed out) and opened the door to make your way to the kitchen.

You were climbing up the stairs when you thought you heard a moan. Stopping where you were standing you listened for more noise, taking the rest of the stairs. When you could look through the room, your head just on the ground level you heard another moan and you turned your head towards the noise, eyes widening when you saw what was going on.

Santiago’s house had an open floor plan on the ground floor. When you entered the house you were facing the stairs that lead to the first floor and the basement. The spacious living room lay on the left side, the kitchen on the right side.

The kitchen was huge, having two islands, one you were facing now where Tina was laying on top, her side facing you. Santi on his knees in front of her.

You knew you should turn around and look away but you seemed rooted to the spot.

His arms were wrapped around her thighs, keeping them apart as he went down on her. One of her hands was in his hair, her back arched, her eyes closed, her other hand made into a fist which she pressed against her mouth to keep herself, quite unsuccessfully, quiet.

“Fuck baby keep doing that,” she whispered and you heard Santi hum against her.

You felt yourself getting turned on, your panties dampening with your arousal.

“Fingers… need… fuck give me two fingers,” Tina moaned lowly and you saw Santi bring one of his hands between her legs before she whimpered as two of his finger pushed inside of her.

You closed your eyes, deciding that this is not something you should be watching, before taking a deep breath and turning around to go back down to wake up Frankie so he could fuck you, when you collided with someone. Just so stopping yourself from yelping you looked up, already knowing it was Frankie. You parted your lips to tell him to turn around when he put one of his fingers in front of his lips, his head turning towards the kitchen.

He was completely naked, his cock already half hard.

You gulped, following his line of sight.

He turned his head back towards you and you caught Frankie’s eyes, before he leaned down, his lips against your ear.

“I saw you watching them,” he whispered and you shivered. His hands came to rest on your hips, taking a step down so you couldn’t see into the kitchen anymore he towered over you.

His eyes were now on your friends in the kitchen and you sucked your bottom lip in as you heard Tina moan.

“I think he’s gonna make her cum baby….” Frankie whispered, his eyes now finding yours again. He took a step closer, two fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties to push them all the way down, you stepping out of them, before his hand cupped your pussy.

“Fuck you’re so wet,” his fingers parted your folds, slipping through your wet slit.

You let your head fall back against the wall.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” you heard Tina moan and you released a shuddering breath.

“Frankie…” you whispered. He shook his head slowly.

“Shh listen….” he hummed, nodding upstairs and you did. Hearing Santi’s girlfriend fall apart as she tried to keep quiet, her moans echoing through the room.

“Fuck baby you’re so sexy. My little cock slut,” you heard Santi say and Frankie’s eyes found yours.

“Gonna fuck this pussy so good we gonna wake up the whole neighbor hood,” he continued and you felt one of Frankie’s fingers enter you.

You heard a slap and you were dying to see what was happening in the kitchen.

“That turn’ you on? Making Frankie and his girl wake up to find me fucking you in the kitchen?” Santi asked.

“Fuck baby….” she moaned and your lips parted when Frankie pushed another finger inside of you, pumping them slowly, his other hand pushing your shirt up. You helped him, pulling it over your head, throwing it down. He cupped your breast, playing with your nipple.

“You want them to hear what a slut you are for my cock?” you heard Santi ask and Frankie bend down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. Your hands flew up into his hair.

His lips wandered up your neck, his lips against your ear as he moved his fingers inside of you.

“When I woke up you were gone and I got up to find you and maybe fuck you in the kitchen,” Frankie said and you whimpered, very quietly.

“But then I found you watching my best friend fuck his girlfriend…” he sucked on your earlobe and you let one of your arms fall down, your hand wrapping around his cock. You let your thumb brush over the wet tip of his cock.

“Who would have known my little wife is getting turned on from watching our friends fuck?” he looked at you then, his lips finding yours, swallowing your moan as he added another finger, stretching you out for his cock.

“Fuck me already baby,” you head from upstairs and you pushed Frankie away. He looked at you confused until you knelt down on the stairs, getting on all fours for him. Looking over your shoulder you caught a glance of Santi pumping his cock with his hand and lining himself up to sink into his girlfriend with a satisfied groan. You caught Frankie’s eyes, smirking when you found his hand pumping his cock too.

“Fuck me,” you mouthed and he shook his head in mock disbelief, his chest rising in a silent chuckle.

You heard a long moan from the kitchen and cursing from Santi.

Frankie’s hands were on your ass, parting your cheeks. He spit on his cock, taking a step closer and you felt him notch the head of his cock against your slit.

You could hear Santi and Tina fucking, moaning from both filling the room, skin slapping on skin.

They were doing a shit job at keeping quiet but then again it was their house.

“Can you keep quiet?” Frankie whispered, pushing the tip of his cock inside.

“Can you?” you challenged, looking at him over your shoulder, biting your lip when he thrust his cock into you fully.

“Fuck baby you’re so wet,” Santi moaned and you let your head fall down between your shoulders, squeezing Frankie’s cock.

“If I knew getting caught turned you on so much, I would have fucked you in your shop,” a moan was heard from Tina and finally Frankie began to move.

“Oh shit,” you whispered, feeling his hand groping your hips as he pumped into you with deep thrusts.

He fucked into you, his thick cock stretching you and it felt so fucking good it took all your brainpower to keep yourself quiet. Frankie groaned quietly, giving you a hard thrust that made you moan.

The sounds of Santi fucking his girl were almost porn worthy. And they continued doing a terrible job of keeping quiet and it made you wonder if they might want to get caught.

Frankie fucked you harder and you moaned again, definitely too loud to not be caught. He stopped, his cock deep inside of you, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders as you waited if you had gotten caught.

You didn’t.

You looked at Frankie and he winked at you, before both of his hands wrapped over your mouth. He gave you a quick thrust and your eyes rolled back.

He used his grip as leverage, beginning to pump into you with short hard thrusts. You heard him groan quietly.

“Oh fuck, right there. Baby…. fuck you gonna make me cum,” Tina whimpered and you clenched around Frankie, making him choke on a moan.

You risked a glance towards the kitchen, now being able to see what was going on and fuck these two looked so fucking hot. Frankie kept fucking into you while you saw Santi pump his thick cock into his girlfriend who was still laying on the kitchen island. His hands were on her breasts, groping them and you sighed into Frankie’s hands, closing your eyes.

Frankie took a step up, his feet now next to yours on the stairs. He let go of his grip over your mouth and pushed your upper body down as his cock dove into you. The new angle made him hit your G Spot perfectly and you pressed your lips together, trying to keep quiet.

“Shit I’m gonna cum,” Santi groaned.

“Rub my clit,” Tina moaned and you heard her cry out a long fuck as she came. Santi following her only seconds later.

Frankie pumped harder into you and it was only seconds later that you fell apart, moaning as quiet as possible as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Shit baby,” Frankie groaned in a whisper. You felt him twitch inside of you, and you clenched around him, squeezing his cock and he groaned, loud, as he spilled inside of you.

You leaned your head down, your arms laying on the stairs, breathing deeply as you still felt Frankie spill inside of you. He leaned down, his chest against your back as he kissed your shoulder.

You turned your head, smiling softly and he kissed you.

“There better not be any cum on the stairs, Fish,” you both heard Santi say and you jumped. Frankie’s arm came up to cover your tits as he pulled you up, both of you finding Santi and Tina looking at you with him still inside of her.

There was an amused grin on his lips and Tina seemed amused.

“No worries. Definitely no cum on your stairs,” you finally said and you all burst out in quiet laughter. Frankie kissed your cheek. You both took some stairs down and he pulled out of you. You felt his cum drip down your thighs and you reached for your panties to clean yourself while Frankie helped you back into your shirt.

Turning around you wrapped your arms around Frankie’s neck and kissed him softly. You heard footsteps behind you and turned your head, finding Santi standing on top of the stairs, wearing his sweatpants.

You sucked your bottom lip in, feeling guilty.

“I’m sorry. I woke up and wanted to get some water and when I walked up I heard you and I just…” Santi waved his hands. You saw Tina come up behind him, hugging him from behind.

“Next time just ask if you could join if you end up fucking,” Santi winked and you made big eyes, looking at Frankie who was still looking at him. You turned your head again, finding them both looking down at you.

Frankie’s hand ran down your back, groping your ass.

“Maybe we will,” he said and you looked at him, finding his eyes. It was like a silent conversation happened in the span of seconds before you turned your head to look at Santi and his girl again.

“Yeah. Maybe we will.”

#my fic #Frankie Morales x fem. reader #Frankie morales #Pedro pascal #Oscar isaac #Santiago Garcia x ofc #santiago garcia #fanficiton #fanfic #fan fiction

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pedroshotwifey · 5 months

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Din Djarin Recs

Joel Miller Recs

Javier Peña Recs

Ezra Fic Recs

Dieter Bravo Recs

Dave York Recs

Marcus Pike Recs

Jack "Whiskey" Daniels Recs

Frankie "Catfish" Morales Recs

Marcus Moreno Recs

Dark!Fic Pedro Character Recs

Non-Pedro Recs

MORE RECS/CHARACTERS TO COME (Updates once a month)

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boredzillenial · 9 months

Text

Attitude Adjustment

A friend of your fathers pays you an unexpected visit you aren’t likely to forget.

Themes: dbf!william, mentions of alcoholism, dub-con, mainly brat taming by any means necessary (spanking, slapping, fingering,etc)

Word Count: 3,012

Authors note: proof read on a phone lol, If peeps like this I’ll make a continuation!!

You were aware of Williams existence in the way that most people assume their parents have friends. You knew they served together overseas, and the many nights your father spent drunkly watching trash tv told you it most likely was not a pleasant tour of duty. You also knew like clockwork growing up that you could sneak out with a couple of shots in your belly and see your friends most nights.

You grew up rough, and without a mother and a constantly drunken father you grew up with a mouth like a sailor and the attitude of a grown man. After some time apart from him and a bit of therapy you’d just started to get “better” but there was a deep anger and attitude toward your father you just hadn’t managed to shake. So you were surprised that out of the blue your father had arranged to meet you in Vegas for some “quality time”, but that he had not arrived at the hotel yet and it had been several hours.

Finally you heard a knock at your door, but when you make your way over and look through the peephole you see a vaguely familiar face. “William?” You say confused as you open the door.

“Hey, sorry I’m surprised you remembered.” He puts on a forced smile.

You furrow your brow and cock your head to the side, “Is there a reason you’re at my door?” You ask bluntly.

“Ah, there it is.” He smiles a bit more honestly and looks you in your eyes when he asks “Mind if I come in?”

“A bit,” you say as you begin to close the door, starting to get annoyed by his presence. As you go to shut it there is a firm stop and you see his knuckles around the edge of the door.

He pushes, gently but firmly and steps inside, closing the door behind him. “Your father asked me to come talk to you.” He said as walks further in and sat his bags down on the desk near the bed.

“Oh you’re making yourself comfortable, great.” You say and toss your hands a bit, walking over and sitting on the armchair. “Well alright let’s get it over with.” You cross your arms.

He opens a bag and pulls out a white sheet, neatly and methodically tucking it over the bedding then sitting down on it and matching your stance as he crosses his thick forearms.

“What’s with the sheet?” You nod at it.

“We’ll get to that -“

“What’s he want you to talk to me about?” You say curtly.

He laughs and looks down at the floor “We’ll get to that too. If you don’t interrupt” he raises a brow and looks up at you.” You put your hands up in a gesture of peace and sink further in the chair. “Well, when was the last time you really spoke with him.”

“It’s been a few years, I’m sure he’s told you all about it.” You say very matter of factly. “Then emailed me with plane tickets and a booking reservation for this place out of the blue.”

“He has -“ he nodded “he told me you’re very angry, and bitter.” He stares at you waiting for your response.

You chuckle “That’s one way to put it.”

“He also told me, that he knows he fucked up -” He leans forward, putting his forearms on his knees to stare directly into your eyes “Look I’ve known him for a long time. And I know when last we spoke, the fear in his eyes was real.” He strained.

“Fear?” You questioned.

“Fear of losing you. Fear that you’ll hate him forever. That you’ll walk around with this bad attitude and a chip on your shoulder for the rest of your life.” He clenched his jaw.

Your heartbeat sped up at his directness “Ah so he had you come down here for what, a quick therapy session hmm? Some sort of fucked up come-to-Jesus meeting?!” You stand as your anger builds at the audacity. “You know what you can leave, I’m not doing this.” You move to walk towards the door and his arm shoots out across your shoulders stopping you in your tracks.

“Stay, please” his voice strained as if he was struggling to remain pleasant. The shear intensity of his eyes, the set of his jaw, you back up quickly and sit back in the chair. He lets out a low sigh and pinches his brow. “Alright look, your father didn’t actually set any of this up or send me. I… I did. I decided to come talk with you after I saw him a week or so ago.”

You raise a brow, “So what is this exactly. What’s your goal here.” You lean forward in the chair, “Did you think you could just force yourself into my hotel room and make me forgive him? That one short conversation would fix years of issues?!” Your voice began to raise as the pain from the past began welling up.

He watched silently as you continued, his deep brown eyes softening a bit. “You really think you can fix any of what he’s done? Or the years of shit he didn’t do?” Tears well up in your eyes as the anger sends your heart thundering in your chest. He kneels down in front of your chair and puts his hands on your knees in an attempt to steady you. You look away from him, anger building now at the look of pity in his eyes.

He grabs your chin gently and turns your head to face him. He looks deeply in your eyes as he says “I can never make it right. I can never prevent that pain from happening or apologize for him.” You shake your head out of his grasp and scowl as hot tears fall down your face. He sighs and continues, “But what I would like to do is help you release. Help you learn to let go so you can live without anger eating you up inside.” You move to stand he places a hand on your chest to stop you. Something shift in his eyes at your attempt “I’m gonna help you whether you like it or not.” He growls.

“Who the fuck do you think you are.” You growl in return and grab his wrist to move his hand but it doesn’t budge.

He smirks “I’m so glad you asked.” He backs up and stands. “I’m the one whose gonna fix that attitude. And I’ve got a few ways to do it.” He takes a step back and reaches into his bag. He pulls out rope, a paddle, and of all things a vibrator.

You freeze and look at the items he’s laid methodically on the bed. “You can’t be fucking serious…” you say breathlessly as you stare at the vibrator and feel the heat in your body rising.

“Oh I’m dead serious.” He smirks “You’ll learn to let go one way or another… So, if you don’t talk with me. We’ll have to resort to my alternative methods.” He looks down at his tools with a smirk for a moment, and you take that moment to bolt for the door. You hear him let out a grunt and his footsteps thud as he quickly wraps his arms around your waist and hoists you up. You kick like crazy and go to scream before he throws you on the bed and clamps a hand over your mouth. “None of that.” He glares “I do have a gag, don’t make me use it…”

You freeze, the look in his eyes deadly serious as he keeps his hand clamped over your mouth. “Now, I think for that little stunt you’ve already earned a little something… Have you ever been spanked before?” He says softly. Fear spreads across your face as you shake your head slowly. “Of course you haven’t.” He scoffs.

“I’m gonna sit on the bed and you’re gonna bend over my lap. Do not try to scream or run again or things are gonna get a lot more difficult for you. Understood?” He nearly growls just inches from your face. You nod slowly and he releases the grip from around your mouth. He stands, looking you over for a moment before nodding and sitting beside you on the bed. “Come on.” He pats his lap.

You remain where you are as you look at him. Processing whether he really meant what he said when he threatened things would get worse if you run. The smirk on his face told you everything you needed to know. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and shimmied off the bed. You stood and adjusted your clothes for a moment as you looked down at him. His eyebrow raised in challenge, almost daring you to try to make a run for it again. You take a deep breath and go to take a step but everything is screaming inside of you to run for the door.

“Here…” he pats his lap again staring you down. You don’t move, your heart thunders in your chest as your eyes lock on his lap. “Now!” His order jolted you out of your momentary trance. You grit your teeth and awkwardly lean across his lap, unsure in your movements. You let out a sigh as you settle across his lap. “Was that so hard?” He said, the softness of his voice contrasting the shout from before. “You’re gonna count -“

“How many -“ you begin to ask then SMACK, his hand comes down on your rear, the soft pj pants doing nothing to protect you from the sting. Tears well up and you bite your fist to stop from crying out.

“Stop. Interrupting… You’re gonna count after every one. I’ll stop when I say we’re done. Now, because of your interruption you lose these.” He yanks your pj pants down to your knees. Exposing the fresh sting to the cold hotel air. You squeeze your eyes shut as you realize what he’s seeing. “Going commando huh?” He chuckles. “That’s make this much more interesting…” he SMACKS your other cheek, this time you can’t stop the yelp that jumps out of your throat.

“Two.” You whimper.

“Oh no, that first one was just for me. This is one and this -“ he smack again “is two.” You curl over his lap and can’t help but wiggle as the sting sets in. You feel a firm hand run up your back over your shirt. Fingers intertwine with the hair at the nape of your neck and your head is pulled back so you are looking at him. “Don’t. Struggle…” he moves your head back down to focus on the pattern in the hotel carpet as he continues to deal out your punishment. You manage to count to 8 before tears are falling steadily and you could feel wetness gathering at your core.

He tuts and gently runs his hand over the raised handprints on your rear and you lurch away and yell at the radiating pain. “Shhh shhh. These stung but they won’t bruise. You’ll be sore for about 24 hours and you’ll be fine.” He says softly as he moves his hand to run up and down your back. You can feel him lean to inspect his work. “Oh.” You hear the surprise in his voice. He moves his hand from your back to your rear and pulls you apart “would you look at that.” He chuckles as you feel a finger run up your slick center. You gasp and look back at him in panic.

“Stay.” He says curtly as his fingers continue to explore. He swirls gently through your folds and down to your clit which drew out a groan and your legs flexed to try and close. He spanked your ass again and you winced “Stay…” his voice grew darker and you could feel the tightening of his pants against your stomach as he swirled around that bundle of nerves again. Another groan rumbles in your chest as he works and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Good, just breathe.” He said softly as he moved up toward your slick opening. He sunk a finger deep inside causing you to gasp. “Shhh just breathe”. He cooed as his other hand rubbed your back. Your face grew hot and you felt confusion and shame bubble up as he worked his finger in and out of you slowly. He leaned toward your ear. “I think you’re ready for a couple more”. He said as he pulled his hand back then sunk three fingers deep into you.

You grit your teeth and whimper as he stretched you deliciously with his fingers. “You’re doing so well.” He praised as he continued as he shifted again to look at his working hand. “So tight-“ he rasped and that prodding at your stomach grew firmer as he adjusted his legs slightly. “I wanna feel you come on my hand.”

You crossed your arms and did your best to bury your face in your arms as he continues to pump his dexterous fingers into you. “P-please.” You stammer as your feelings conflicted between pleasure and shame.

“Please what,” he slowed down “what do you need.” He leaned back towards your face.

“I can’t… like this…” You weren’t sure how to explain to him you needed more attention at that bundle of nerves in order to meet his request.

“Ah I see. Stand up”. He pulled his fingers out of you and helped you stand. You tried to pull the hem of your shirt down as you stood with your lower half exposed infront of him. “You won’t need that”. He pulls and your top and sports bra come off in one swift motion. He took a moment to almost lean back as he took your naked form in. “Goddamnit” he sighed with a smirk. “Get on the bed.”

You moved quickly and winced as you sat down on the soft mattress and snapped your legs shut. His smirk remained as he shook his head. “Open, or I’ll do it for you…” he leaned toward you. Instinctively you attempt shimmy backward and wince again at the friction against your tender rear. He quickly grabs your ankles and yanks you to the edge of the bed. It feels as if it takes him very little of his strength to pry your knees apart, exposing your slick core to him.

You felt fear rise at the excitement in his eyes. He pulled you forward again so your ass was at the edge of the bed as he knelt down. You looked down at him as his eyes darkened and he lunged forward.

The heat of his tongue split you open and sent you reeling. You weren’t sure how he’d start but diving his tongue as deep as he could while nuzzling your clit with his nose what not what you expected. You arched and clung to the tight white sheet he put down as he continued.

Then as suddenly as he started he stopped. He looked up at you with a devilish grin as he wiped his face. “Couldn’t help it.” He chuckled as he adjusted so he was laying beside you. He ran his hand across your chest then up to your throat, gripping it firmly as he forced you to look into his eyes. “Your eyes stay right here. Understood?” He growled.

You gulped and nodded. His hand released from your throat and trailed down to your body. His eyes bore into yours as his fingers curled inside of you. First one, then another, finally stopping with three. You gasped and arched against him, his arm and fingers like steel as he continued keeping you in place. He began to slowly pump in and out of you. The addition of his thumb on your clit sent you reeling as you bit your lip and fought to keep your eyes open. “That’s right, eyes on me.” He rasped, a blush creeping his own face as his breathing became uneven.

He kept his eyes on yours as he adjusted to kneel on the bed beside you. He worked his fingers harder and began to play with your chest. Eliciting another groan as he grazed his other thumb over your sensitive peaks. This time you couldn’t help but to close your eyes to enjoy the sensations he was pulling from you. As you felt pleasure building you felt a stinging slap across your cheek and that firm grip around your throat. Your eyes shot open as he was leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “Eyes. On. Me.” He punctuated each word with a firm thrust of his fingers and your hips bucked in response.

“Y-yes…” you groan, your mind swimming with the tension that threatened to snap you in two.

He picked up to a punishing pace as he continued to stare you down. When you came you did so hard enough to nearly headbut him as you arched and writhed. But he kept his pace, his grip on your throat, and the press of his head against yours steady. Anchoring you in place. “Good, good girl. Let go, I’ve got you.” He encouraged as you rode wave after wave of pleasure. His pace slowed as you began to jump instead of writhe due to your oversensitive clit.

He pulled back and pulled his hand free from you. You and he both breathless and sweaty as he licked his fingers clean. Heat rose in you as you watched him close his eyes and hum at the taste of you on his hand. As he finished he looked back down at you with a smirk. “That was a good first step.” He chuckled.

“First step?” You questioned softly.

“Oh honey, this is gonna be a long night with many steps.” He chuckled, undoing his belt as you hear a loud zip.

—————

Masterlist

#william tell #the card counter #oscar isaac #William tell X reader #oscar isaac fanfiction #brat #bratlife #brat taming #william tell fanfiction #william tell fan fiction #the card counter fanfiction #the card counter fan fiction #william tell fic #the card counter fic #brat tamer William tell #William tell brat tamer #the card counter X reader #the card counter X you

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winniethewife · 3 months

Text

I made you my temple, my mural, my sky (Johnathan Levy x reader)

Warnings: Implied Age gap, angst ending in fluff.

Words: 738

They were fighting again. She was tired of the fighting. It felt unfair, he had so much more experience, He having been married and divorced, this being her first serious relationship. He wasn’t even sure why they were fighting, what started the fight, was he just used to fighting? Is this what he thought love looked like? She gave up and left the room in tears. He takes a moment, has a cigarette break before going to join her in the other room.

“I sit and watch you, I notice everything you do or don't do, I feel like I’m analyzing your every move, waiting for some inevitable betrayal.” He says softly as he leans on the doorway. She’s looking out the window as she sits on the couch, her chin in her hands.

“I don’t know what you’re looking for…You're so much older and wiser and I…I don’t know what I’m doing…” She looks over at him, she can see the tears in his eyes. She feels guilty, maybe the fights are pointless, maybe she’s just missing something. She lets out a soft sigh and moves over so he can come sit with her. He doesn’t move. He runs his hand over his beard and tilts his head to the side.

“If it's all in my head tell me now, That, I’m looking for something that isn’t happening. Tell me I've got it wrong somehow.” He says, the slightest bit of fight still in his voice, but most of it was heartbreak and assumptions. She runs her hand along her arm and shakes her head slightly.

“You can’t be more wrong Jon. I don’t think I could leave, even If I wanted to. Every day I wait by the door like I'm just a kid, for you to come home. Everything I do, I do it for you, I feel like my every waking hour is in dedication to you.” She looks up at the celling. “But none of it is enough is it?”

“Honey I…god I’m an idiot.” He half laughs, half sighs in exasperation. “You do some much for me and I act like it’s nothing. You lay the table with the fancy shit, polish plates until they gleam and glisten, Take care of Ava, you do everything… While you were out building other worlds, where was I?” He shakes his head before walking over sitting down next to her, leaning over, putting his head in his hands. She puts a hand on his shoulder and softly squeezes him.

“Jonathan, you know I love you. I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to be begging for footnotes in the story of your life. I just…I feel like I’m taking up too much space or time.” She says softly. He sits up and looks at her. A soft sad simile on his face.

“How can you stand to be around me? I’m always assuming the worst about us, like I expect it all to go up in flames at any time. As if everything is just a time bomb, I just assume it will go to shit…” He leans back resting his head on her shoulder, She instinctively nuzzles into his mess of curls finding comfort in his scent.

“You’ve spent a long time thinking everything was okay and wonderful and great to have the worst happen. I don’t blame you for thinking that way.” She says as they curl up together on the couch.

“I always thought you assume I'm fine, when I’m so obviously not.” He grumbles softly. She rubs circles in his back as she holds him close

“What would you do if I told you that, I think the same way? That I’m just…damaged goods to you.” She asks. He takes her hand in his.

“My love, if you’re damaged goods then, I am far beyond repair.” He chuckles softly. She takes his chin in her hand and turns his head to look into his dark eyes with a loving look on her face.

“Just a couple of broken toys no one wants to play with…” She leans into kiss him, her soft lips against his as he scoffs slightly at her remarks.

“Likely story.” He mutters against her lips.

“Would you rather I try to fix you? Believe me, I could do it…I think…I know how.” She moves her kisses from his lips down his neck….

“That…Just might work.”

Series Masterlist

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infin1ty-garden · 25 days

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KANE (ANNIHILATION) FIC RECS

Annihilation is a 2018 British-American science fiction psychological cosmic horror film written and directed by Alex Garland, loosely based on the 2014 novel of the same name by Jeff VanderMeer. The story follows a group of scientists who enter "The Shimmer", a mysterious quarantined zone of mutating plants and animals caused by an alien presence. Kane joins an expedition to investigate a strange alien field known as Shimmer.

other fic recs.

IRREGULAR LOVE

Kane writes you a letter before his next mission and makes peace with the fact he probably won't return

by @spider-starry | angst, swearing & slight spoilers

FALLING LEAVES

Kane embraces the change of season but not without a little help

by @alwritey-aphrodite | fluff

TWO GHOSTS

You and Kane come to terms that he's changed after leaving Area X

by @alwritey-aphrodite | fluff & angst

SOULMATE

You get flowered tattoos wherever your soulmate receives a scar and meet your soulmate in an unexpected way

by @freelancearsonist | fluff

NOSTALGIA

Kane begins to remember something. (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Fusion + soulmates)

part 2 | part 3

by @onevolon | fluff & angst

FRIDAY THE 13TH

Kane being the superstitious person that he is decided to stay in for the day and makes you accompany him

by @alwritey-aphrodite | fluff

HOW KANE RE-FALLS IN LOVE

Kane falls in love with you once again

by @redeyerhaenyra | fluff

FALSE ALARM

Taking the dog out in the middle of the night isn't necessarily uncommon, but at the first sign of trouble, Kane jumps into action

by @the-butterfly-blues | fluff

Thanks for reading!

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hischeapcigar · 8 months

Text

Idk who’s been taking requests but i really want someone to write hobie brown (spider-punk) x reader where he’s in relationship with her but she doesnt know he is spiderman and how he saves her life multiple times and reader starts to suspects but before she could confront, he confesses it in a middle of a fight or sth.

Or i’d even settle for any angsty fluffy hobie brown x reader

#cant get over hobie brown #spiderpunk #need more of his fanfics #pls suggest #spiderman x reader #peter parker x reader #miles morales x reader #hobie brown x reader #the amazing spiderman #miles morales fanfic #spiderman fan fic #spider-verse #metro boomin #oscar isaac #fanfics

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melodygatesauthor · 8 months

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The Only One

Dark - Duke Leto Atreides X f!Reader

Not Beta Read

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Summary

The duke needs an heir, or Caladan will fall under the rule of his enemies. There's one woman is capable of saving the planet...she's the only one.

Tags/Warnings

Disclaimers: This fic does not comply with canon, throw everything you thought you knew about the Dune lore out the window. The duke is (in my opinion) in character for this situation, despite the obsessive tendencies. There is heavy non-con in this fic, it's not for everyone. If you're sensitive to that sort of thing in fanfiction, please keep on scrolling thanks. NSFW, non-con, rape, kidnapping, sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, praise kink, lactation kink, pregnancy, blood kink, cockwarming, forced pregnancy, non-consensual bondage, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, body worship, pregnant sex, oral sex (f receiving), Dark fic, Dark Duke Leto Atreides. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)

Word Count: 6k

Prelude

After many years of trying for an heir, Duke Leto has begun to give up hope. Without an heir, the emperor threatens to give away his birthright, strip him of his title, and hand Caladan to his enemies. He has been given only one final year to produce a son who will carry on his family name. While searching for someone who could give him what he needs, he happens upon a mysterious woman. The strange woman tells of a prophecy, one that Leto takes very seriously, because he has no other choice. "In a village, not far from here, my lord, there's a girl. She is not of noble birth, but I have seen her future, and she will give you many sons." Duke Leto, a kind and gentle man, would never hurt someone so innocent on purpose, but when faced with the choice of taking you, or losing Caladan to those who meant to oppress it, he must set aside his morality for the greater good...

The duke entered his chambers where you were suspended from the lofty ceiling, as he’d requested his men to do once they found you. A warm smile spread across his face at the sight of you, so beautiful, so scared. Leto stepped forward, nearly jumping when your head shot up and your tear-stained eyes locked on with his. He held one hand behind his back in a regal manner, holding the other out to touch your cheek as he closed in on you slowly.

“W-wh…” you cleared your throat, “where…”

“Shh,” he whispered softly, brushing his thumb over the soft skin of your beautiful face, “you’re safe now. There’s no need to panic.”

Despite his words, it was clear you were terrified, struggling to breath in a normal, even heave. No matter the fear you displayed in your eyes, the duke’s expression remained calm, and filled with adoration.

“I know you’re frightened. It is…expected,” he said softly, standing up straight and casually walking to his wardrobe. “Would you care for some wine perhaps? Or I can call for the doctor, he could provide you with a mild sedative?”

He turned to look at you, your head was hung downward once again, naked body trembling and rattling the chains that held you in place. He wasn’t a cruel man, though he suspected you thought he was. He’d never done something like this before, sending his guards out to retrieve a young woman to keep in his chambers indefinitely. A nearly inaudible sob escaped your lips.

“No need to cry my dear, you’re not in any danger,” he said, beginning to unbuckle his belt, the sound of the metal piercing through the room. “In fact, you’re going to be very well taken care of here. Do you have any idea just how lucky you are?”

You cried harder, sobs becoming even louder as you looked up at him again. He removed his shirt, revealing his warm, sunkissed skin. It was hard to tell, but he appeared handsome through the blur of your tears. You dropped your head again, your neck aching from the position you were in. Your arms were pinned behind your back, body bent forward at the hips, leaving your rear exposed and open. Your thighs ached, legs spread wide, forced open by a metal pole secured between your knees. The ache in your chest from your labored breathing was horrid enough, only made worse by the chains wrapped around you, keeping your torso held upward and parallel to the stone floor.

“You don’t even realize that you are the most important piece to maintaining our way of life of Caladan,” he continued, removing his pants completely and letting them fall to the ground. “I have been unable to find anyone compatible. Perhaps it’s that my genetics are too much for the average woman to carry to term.” He stepped closer to you, cock bobbing heavily with every stride. “But you’re not average, are you my dear?”

“P-please,” you croaked, “I…I…”

“No no, not another word. You’re frightened now, yes, but you’ll soon realize the important work that you were made for,” he walked past you, running his hand along your arm and to your hip as he did. “The important job you’ll be doing for me…”

You whimpered, struggling slightly against your restraints but to no avail. The duke used to pride himself on being an honorable man, and even in this morally reprehensible moment, he felt justified in his actions. He didn’t always like what his duty called him to do, but knowing it was for the greater good, he would do almost anything.

“You see my dear,” he cooed, “you were found for me, a beautiful, fertile woman who is prophesied to give me many children…” he leaned into your ear, “many.” His tone turned to a low rumble. “So even though this may seem sudden, you will realize with time that you’re fulfilling your purpose…your destiny.”

His right palm splayed over the globe of your cheek, moving toward where your body was spread in two. He didn’t like hearing you cry, but he knew it was inevitable. No normal girl would consent to being abducted and restrained in a man’s bedroom, not even the duke’s bedroom. He saw your puckered hole, and he pressed his index finger to it gently, inciting a gasp from you, followed by the rattling of the chains. You cried out, begging him to release you, but your wails fell on deaf ears.

“I know you care about Caladan, our people. I know you care about the Atreides legacy, and you know…” he spit between your crack, letting his warm saliva trickle from your rim down between your folds, “you know I need a strong, healthy heir.”

Leto positioned himself behind you, using his hand to fist the fat tip of his cock at your glistening entrance. The metal pole keeping your legs spread for him creaked with tension as you struggled to close your thighs, a pointless endeavor. He sighed heavily, gliding his head between each crevice of your pretty little cunt, making himself slick with your arousal.

“You must think me to be a cruel man, but you’re mistaken darling. I don’t want to hurt you, and if you’ll relax this will be much less painful for you.” His breath was ragged with an almost animalistic desire. “You must understand, however, that I care far too much about the future of my people not to provide them with an Atreides heir.”

No matter how hard you tried to escape the flesh splitting thrust of his wide girth, your attempts were futile. A pained scream echoed off the walls of his chambers, followed shortly by the warmth of your blood against his thighs as he slapped them against yours loudly. He wasn’t trying to hurt you, but he wanted to get your first time over with, and not drag it out any longer than necessary. He slowed down after a moment, once your screaming turned to soft whimpers.

“You’re doing so well…” he huffed through his nostrils harshly “…I know this isn’t easy for you,” Leto leaned forward, grabbing one of your hanging breasts in his large hand, pinching the nipple gently, “b-but your body was built for this…it was built for me…”

“No, n-no…” you trailed off, feeling your head fall back down, neck aching still from the strain. A small moan left your lips, despite your attempts to keep it in.

“O-oh sweetheart is…is it starting to feel good?” The roll of his hips remained at a steady pace. “That’s wonderful, it will help with the pain, and your time will be more enjoyable for you if you can gain some pleasure from this as well, I don’t want you to feel misery if I can help it.”

“S-stop, please, my lord…”

“Shh,” he whispered softly, continuing to palm at your breast.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips against the soft skin of your spine. He could feel your tied-back hands fidgeting against his ribcage. His free hand moved to your left hip, holding it tightly to angle himself deeper.

“I’m going to fill you with every bit of me , every-single-drop,” he punctuated each word with a harder thrust. “I need to make sure you get it all, need to make sure it takes…mmph!”

Surely your noisy whimpers could be heard in the halls, yet no one came to help you. They all knew what was happening in there. You were to be the mother of the next Atreides heir. You would be made to bear child after child for the legacy obsessed duke. A breeding vessel for a desperate nobleman, torn between his kind nature and his need for the security and wellbeing of his people.

“The emperor will take everything I have if I can't secure my bloodline. He’ll give it t-to the…” he whimpered and gulped deeply, “Harkonnens, and I can’t let that happen to my people.”

You could hear nothing over your whimpers save for the wet slapping of his skin against yours as his pace quickened. You didn’t know what he was going on about - destiny, legacy, an Atreides heir? - He snapped forward again, a gravelly rumble falling from his chest. He moved to an upright position, letting your breast hang loosely once more. You wailed loudly, the feeling of his thick fingers leaving their impressions in the flesh of your hip.

“M-my lord, my lord…it hurts so…s-so-much-s-sir!”

“I know, but you’re taking me so well anyway aren’t you?” He looked down where your puffy little hole swallowed his crimson painted cock. “Look at that.”

His index finger touched where you were stretched around him, that little bit of skin that held onto his cock like it never meant to let go. You whimpered, chains rattling around you as your body involuntarily moved, only serving to sink you down further on his length once more. He could hear you hyperventilating, a panic-stricken whine punching out of your chest that he felt a tad guilty for inciting.

Until he remembered what your purpose was…the reason he’d had you brought to his castle in the first place.

He reached an arm around your leg, sinking the pad of his finger into the wet, bloody mess between the slippery lips of your cunt. In the sea of your arousal, he found the swollen bud that made your walls flutter around him. You gasped, and seemingly on their own, his hips slid forward, chasing that delicious feeling of your body finally accepting him, pulling him deeper inside.

“You like that don’t you?” He bit his lip, a breathy chuckle escaping through his teeth with the knowledge that he’d found a way to settle your terror, if only for a moment. “I promise, no matter how terrible this may be, that I won’t allow you to stay like this…and-s-suffer-oh-my…”

He felt your body squeezing tighter, walls contracting around his cock. He thrust forward again, shuddering at the way you were taking him, pulling him deeper, like your body was begging for his cum, like you needed him to feed your hole until you were stuffed and overflowing.

“Mmm-m-my-lord…p-please–”

Your tone was different now, more sultry and full of desire. It was good to hear you like that, moaning instead of crying, grunting with pleasure instead of pain. This would be so much better for you once you gave in, he knew that much. He could give you everything: make your body shake with orgasm after orgasm, clothes made from the finest silks, and comforts that were reserved for only the lords and ladies of Caladan.

“Your pleas don’t go unnoticed sweetheart, don’t think me cruel, I wouldn’t do this if the circumstances were different,” he huffed, breathing becoming more ragged with every glide of his hips. “I need you…Caladan needs you–needs-you-full-ah!”

The smooth roll of his hips slowed as his seed spilled into you. You felt it, warm and slick as it coated your insides white. You felt a sensation you’d never felt, rolling over your entire body and pooling in your core, causing your legs to shake and your mind to go blank. It was euphoric; a reprieve from the pain you’d endured for what felt like hours, but couldn’t have been more than several minutes.

Leto felt your pussy walls squeezing, crushing down over his girth in waves while you moaned. What a sweet sound, one that made him feel mental relief that he’d given you something in return for your suffering. His finger slowed around your hardened clit, letting you come down slowly from your high.

As your pleasured whines subsided, you thought he would remove himself from you, letting your hole relax after such an ordeal, but he didn’t. The duke stayed there, hips pressed flush against your rear, making no motion to release you from his hold. You moved slightly, but he gripped tightly on your hips, keeping you firmly in place.

“No, no darling, no.” His voice was calm but raspy, still settling after his climax. “I’m going to stay like this for a moment longer, just to make sure it takes. We wouldn’t want to waste it.”

He looked down, seeing the way your body had bled on his, coating his pubic hair in a deep red shade. He felt for you, truly he did, but once you realized what an honor it was to be in your position, he knew you’d find it was worth the sacrifice. Your breathing was slowing, going back to normal, and after several moments he pulled back, letting his limp cock fall from where it had torn you open.

You groaned, feeling yourself become empty all at once. Your head hung down, neck finally too tired to hold it up any longer. You heard the duke tsk behind you, his palms pressing against your cheeks and spreading them further. The sound of dripping cum on the floor echoed through the room.

“Let’s keep it all inside, sweet one, I need you to give me a son,” he pushed his spend back inside you with his finger, what little was still there and had not fallen to the floor.

You winced and hissed, the metal holding you in place rattling once more. His thick middle-finger slid in deep, Leto shuddered as your hole clenched in response. He could hear you crying, a soft, defeated sound he wished one day would stop. But he couldn’t expect that from you, not now as he broke you in for the first time. He expected you would be like this for a while until you were used to him, used to his size, used to the way he kept you as full as possible, as often as possible.

“Your body handled me very, very well darling,” he said, idly fingering you as he spoke, continuing to push his spend back inside you. “Looks like I’ve made quite the mess of you, but don’t worry, I’ll have you cleaned up in a moment.”

He kept true to his word, once he was thoroughly satisied he’d kept his cum in you long enough, the duke turned onto his back, positioned himself between your thighs, and propped himself up on his elbows so his lips could reach your cunt with ease. A gasp shot from your lungs, the feeling of his warm mouth enveloping your sore folds bringing comfort to the ache. You moaned, a sound that represented more than just sexual pleasure, but a sound that told him you were at least accepting your fate…for the moment.

He was right, there was no more fighting, and it was clear your words weren’t going to change his goal oriented mind. His desire to have an heir was stronger than his desire to act honorably. His tongue went flat, you felt it soothing the tear of your hymen, then dragging upward and flicking once it reached the peak of your folds. You exhaled a sigh, cunt throbbing in response to the way he lapped at you masterfully.

“You know not many,” he kissed your pussy lips, “can say,” another peck, “they’ve been lucky enough to carry such an important role for Caladan. Even I’m not as important as you are right now.”

His hand reached up and pressed against your stomach while his mouth continued to melt into your cunt, soothing you even more as he cleaned you. He never felt such pride as he did in that moment, knowing that this was a good effort, even if it didn’t take. The sheer amount that he ate from you, in combination with his already discarded seed on the floor underneath him, gave the duke a sense of relief to know that he was producing sufficiently on his end. It wouldn’t take long for you to give him a healthy child, if you were indeed the girl the old woman had told him about.

You whimpered still when his tongue would touch your wound, though it was always followed with the relief of him dragging it over your clit. He slurped quietly as he continued, not making an indication that he would be stopping any time soon, despite the likelihood of you being clean already. The hand on your stomach moved, reaching up and cupping your breast, holding it and squeezing softly.

“Oh, my lord, y-yes…”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t deny the heat pooling at the base of your abdomen once again. Was it even worth trying to deny the way it felt? He was the Duke of Caladan after all. If he wanted a hundred concubines tied up to his ceiling he could take them, and no one would stop him. You should be grateful it was he who took you, and not someone who might’ve been much more cruel in their claiming of your body.

He hummed into your folds, breathing heavily through his nose as he did. His hand slid over to your waist, gripping around you and holding tight. The vibration from his moans, and the brush of his peppery beard against your thighs was causing your body to near release once more. That would only be the second time in your life that you’d felt it, and you wanted it more than you could bear.

“Mm, let yourself go my dear, I only want you to feel good from now on, now that I broke you in a little.”

His mouth never left your cunt as he spoke, his words only serving to draw your next climax from your body faster. You felt it fall over you, warm and heavy, making your body melt once more, going limp save for the involuntary crashing of your walls around the emptiness the duke had left behind. He didn’t stop until he was sure you were fully satisfied, head hanging down again and breathing returned to normal.

With a grunt he rose from beneath you. You heard him padding on his bare feet to the wardrobe on the far side of the room. If you turned your head just a little you could see him, much clearer now than before. He looked at you as he put a loose cotton shirt over his shoulders, then leaning down to pull his trousers over his legs.

“You’re simply the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said in a gentle baritone, moving back to kneel in front of you. “I do not kneel for many, but I’ll kneel for the mother of my children.”

You strained your neck to look at him once again. He cupped your cheeks to help you, seeing your struggle and feeling sorry for the part he played in your suffering. He kissed your forehead, feeling the salt from your sweaty brow upon his lips.

“I’ll return every day, at least until I’m sure you’re pregnant,” his lips curled into a compassionate smirk, “then I’ll let you rest while your belly grows.”

He stood, striding to the washroom and leaving you hanging there, like a prized animal on display. Before long, the same men who’d captured you returned, undoing most of your bonds, save for the ones holding your hands behind your back. They weren’t rough, just like before when they’d abducted you. You felt your entire body sigh, your bones and muscles feeling relieved to fall back into place.

You weren’t sure when exactly you’d conceived. It must’ve happened at some point between that first time when he tore you apart, and the following month when your period didn’t arrive when it should’ve. By then you’d become, not unlike, a piece of furniture in Duke Leto’s chambers, restraints much less restrictive and painful than your first meeting. Only a week after he’d broken you, you’d become more willing for him, crying less when he came to take you.

“I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner here, despite your situation, and since you’ve become so compliant, I think I can afford to make you more comfortable,” he’d explained.

And so he had you moved to the bed. Though you weren’t completely free. That was a risk the duke could not afford. So he had metal cuffs around your wrists, and chains that connected them to the stone wall behind the bed. You could move easier, but you could never leave.

When another week went by, two weeks after your torment began, he was swelling with pride, seeing you spreading your legs upon his entry into his chambers without prompt. You said you appreciated the silken evening dress he’d had the servants craft for you, the one that fell open on either side of your hips when you presented your cunt to him. He wasn’t supposed to love you - it wasn’t necessary for him to love you - but he felt himself overwhelmed with feelings he couldn’t contain every time he saw you.

Three weeks after that first meeting, you kissed him. It was clear he’d been holding back, allowing you to maintain some level of autonomy, despite having taken your body for himself so many times. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, force you to be intimate with him if that wasn’t what you wished.

So it was a shock when he was several moments into fucking you, cock sliding wetly along your walls in a desperation to fill you with him again, and you grabbed his face on either side. His hooded eyes shot up, meeting with yours but then quickly flicking down to see your precious lips closing in. You closed your eyes, and so did he, and everything seemed to slow down for a moment, including the pace that he thrust into you.

The slow roll of his hips was heavenly, and was soon accompanied by the feeling of his hand on the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss, gliding his tongue inside your mouth so he could taste you. The duke filled you faster than ever that night, being so engulfed in the moment that he couldn’t hold on any longer.

And now, it was just over a month beyond your arrival to Castle Caladan, you were sitting with the physician while he examined you, confirming that yours and the duke’s efforts had been fruitful.

The way Leto looked at you in that moment, was a look you’d never seen before. His dark brows turned up and stitched together, soft lips parted just before a smirk curled over them. He held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, the glossy sheen of tears apparent in his eyes.

“After years of trying to produce an heir, I finally found a perfect vessel, such a precious thing,” he cooed, touching your stomach before leaning in and finding your lips with his own. “My most wonderful treasure.”

Leto heard nothing else as the doctor murmured about you, voice seeming background to where his focus lied. Part of him was still shocked that the old woman was right. She told him in his search of her prophecy that you, a normal village girl, would produce many sons for him, and she was right.

That night, the duke did everything he could for you. His kisses were softer, less desperate and more deliberate. His hands didn’t grab your flesh as a means to hold you, but rather to feel you. And when he sunk his cock into you, he did so in a way that emphasized your pleasure over his own, angling for those spots that made your body quiver.

You may not have been of noble birth, but to the duke, that night you were his empress. There wasn’t an inch of your skin that hadn’t been brushed by the coarse hair of his bearded chin. He worshiped you, giving you an evening dedicated to only your satisfaction.

For many weeks he would come into his chambers and ramble on about how proud he was, and how well you were doing. He would whisper the most depraved, while beautiful, things in your ear about how the people of Caladan owed you their lives, and how he couldn’t wait until it was time to breed you all over again. All of that praise was nothing though, not compared to the way he looked at you after coming back from his trip to Arrakis.

When he walked into his chambers, and you were there on his bed, only a couple short months away from birth, he stopped dead in his tracks. He felt like the words were trapped in his throat, and his feet were stuck to the floor. All he could do was stare, and take in the beauty before him. You were simply radiant, pregnant belly full with his son, his heir; swelling breasts nearly spilling out of your dress.

Once he found the ability to move again he slowly walked over to you, taking off his coat as he sat beside you.

“Look at you…” his voice trailed off.

“Hello my lord,” you greeted softly.

His hand reached for yours, and he was quickly reminded that you’d been a captive there, metal cuffs still wrapped around your wrists, rattling as he held you. He felt a pang in his chest, wanting desperately to release you. Every time the thought crossed his mind though, he worried you would run. You didn’t seem like you would try to leave, having become much more docile since your arrival months ago. There was also the glaring fact that you were pregnant, and it wouldn’t be easy for you to get away even if you managed to pass every one of the guards who might see you before reaching the doors of Leto’s home.

There was always that small chance though, no matter how slim, that you would leave. It was a risk he couldn’t afford to take.

He looked back at your body, eyes wide and trained on your stomach. The duke leaned in, kissing just above your navel, a satisfied hum escaping his lungs as he did. It was hard not to like him, and that was what you hated about him the most. The man was dedicated to his people, to his title, and his legacy more than anything. The longer you were around him, and the more time you’d spent under his care, the more you’d begun to understand your purpose within his walls.

The idea of the Harkonnens, or any other house for that matter, claiming the right to Caladan, should House Atreides produce no heir, was a frightful one. He broke you from your thoughts, eyes trailing up your chest and to your eyes. Your breath caught in your throat, he looked so handsome, lips slightly parted with a few stray hairs falling into his dark eyes. Despite holding you captive for the sole purpose of breeding an heir from you, you’d begun to fall for Leto Atreides, against all odds.

“My sweet girl, my darling, you’re doing so well, growing my child in your womb. I couldn’t have asked for a better woman to give me a son, to give House Atreides its heir,” he whispered, cupping your cheek, bringing his forehead to yours. “I’ve been disappointed so many times.”

“Thank you my lo-”

“No sweetheart, no, shh…” he pressed a finger to your lips gently before replacing it with a tender kiss, “you should be worshiped by Caladan, it's people…I want to worship you.”

His hand grabbed at your waist, pulling you against him into a deeper kiss. You felt his growing arousal against your thigh, followed by an involuntary rut of his hips. You whined, trying not to be bothered by the incessant ache in your chest, your engorged tits becoming too heavy and painful to bear. It was hard to focus on the duke’s soothing touch when you felt such discomfort.

He stopped kissing you, looking at you with concern, “are you alright sweet one?” His eyes trailed to your tits, “are they sore? Oh you poor thing.”

You nodded and whimpered, wincing as he pulled one of your straps down and pulled a heavy breast from its confines. Your puffy nipple had a bead of white sitting on it, threatening to trickle down the mound. His pink tongue darted out, lapping up the milk that nearly fell from your breast, and humming in approval of its taste.

“Let me help you my dear,” he said softly, leaning in and latching his mouth over your chest.

You gasped at first, the coarse brush of his beard stinging against the sensitive skin, but it very quickly gave way to a much better, more soothing sensation. You sighed in relief, feeling him suckling at your flesh, drawing out the milk that had been causing your breasts to swell beyond belief. He moaned against your skin, rolling his hips idly as he did. This was very unusual for him, to be so needy and desperate for you, clinging onto your body the way he was.

In the past, Leto would’ve just taken you if he wanted to, but with your body so soft and full with his child, he would resist. Of course he knew you could take it, you weren’t made of glass, but he wanted to give you nothing but comfort, emptying you instead of filling you with more than he already had in the past. He felt your hand reach up and grab the back of his head, delicate fingers massaging between his peppery locks.

“Mm, my darling, so sweet,” he muttered against your tit, a little milk dribbling down his lips.

You felt his hips moving more, now more deliberate before, as though he were accepting of his primal urges to find release, rather than suppress it, but still unwilling to ask you for help.

“It’s alright my lord, you haven’t…mmph…you haven’t been satisfied in some time. Do what you must.”

Even though he was trying to remain stoic and refined, your permission was all he needed to throw all that aside. With his free hand he tugged at his belt, keeping his lips pursed around your nipple as he did. You heard the unmistakable clanking and rattling metal as he found success, pulling the leather from the loops and tossing it to the ground. His dexterous fingers then made quick work of his pants, pulling them to his thighs.

Leto Atreides was a nobleman, not one to give in to such animalistic delights so easily, but something about drinking from your chest, and how perfect you were serving him and his house with your pregnancy made him feral for you. His hands were shaking as he tried to bring his cock to your hole. He’d done it so many times before, why was he struggling now?

“Sir…” you pushed him off your breast, biting your lip at the sight of him as he looked up at you.

His eyes were hooded, milk-drunk and heavy. The lips that had been suckling for a while were now pink, puffy, and covered in a white, glossy sheen. You lifted your leg, sliding yourself into a position that you were both parallel to one another. You wrapped your leg around his hip, angling his fat tip to your slippery entrance.

“You’re too precious, too g-good…oh…” His hips stuttered forward, opening you wide around his cock once again.

You hadn’t been with him in so long, your body had nearly forgotten how to take him. You winced, needing to readjust once again, but he was patient, holding himself flush against your hips while your walls moved aside for his girth. He let out, what sounded like, a low growl as he mouthed at your neglected tit. His hips remained in place, making no attempt to retreat, nor to glide in further. His cock rested there contentedly, throbbing every now and then.

He gulped, humming into your breast as he drank more, the ache in your chest slowly subsiding with every moment that passed. Eventually he moved his hips lazily, pulling back after a time before rolling back forward.

What the duke was feeling with you in that moment was more than a simple sex act. What he felt now was comfort, his cock buried in your soaking, slippery heat, and his lips pursed around your nipple. Leto swirled his tongue in a slow roll over your peaked mound, taking a moment to inhale several shaky breaths before going in for more.

The way he drew more and more milk out of you was causing your body to relax further, your walls becoming more open to his slow movements and deep strokes. A low moan escaped you, forcing his eyes to shoot up, still so dark in their feral hunger. You tugged his hair, forcing him to pull off your breast with a loud pop. Without hesitation, you kissed him, filling your mouth with a combination of your sweet fluids and the duke’s own signature taste

“You’re like no other. Not a day goes by that I don’t want to hold you close sweetheart…”

He brushed his nose against yours, eyes moving slowly from your lips, to your eyes, and back again. A swell of emotion poured through him, his desires going beyond just wanting to give you his seed, but it was something more. Your last name…it was wrong. He never wanted to take a wife, in fact, he’d vowed never to do such a thing, but you’d changed the very fiber of his being from the moment he’d found you.

“After my son is born, I’ll give you the best gift I can, the only gift I can give a woman of such importance…oh my…g…”

The duke lost himself, holding you tightly against him, though careful not to squeeze against your stomach too harshly. His choked moans vibrated against your chest while he filled you, pumping your body with his cum once again. You felt your own climax wash over your body, inspired by his own, drawing everything it could from him as it did, both of you a trembling, moaning mess.

He sighed with contentment after his mind cleared. He looked at you once more.

“I’m going to keep you,” he kissed your lips breathlessly, “I’m going to keep you here with me. I’m going to give you my name, and until the day I die you’ll be mine, my precious thing.” He pecked you again, and then pressed his lips to your stomach.

“I can’t wait to have your name, sir, and to be able to walk around the castle freely,” you said softly.

Leto’s blood ran cold.

Walk around freely…

Perhaps you’d misunderstood him, in fact, he was certain of it. He could see how his words may have been misconstrued. Evidently he would need to be more clear with you. The duke’s gaze darkened when he looked back into your eyes.

“My sweet girl.” He cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead. “Until the day you are barren, I cannot risk any harm to you, nor your body.” His words were chilling, but his gaze was warm.

“You’ll never leave this room, so long as I can help it.”

Duke Leto Atreides Masterlist

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you-heard-what-i-meant · 1 year

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Let Us Take Care of You - Moon Knight

Summary:

Reader is recovering from surgery and the Moon Boys are helping to look after her. Frustrations erupt when she makes a bad decision, and a truth from the Moon Boy's past is revealed (it explains a lot of their behaviour in this fic). Angst, emotional Moon Boys, fluff in the end. One use of the F word.

Notes:

Purely self indulgent! I wrote this four days after I had to have some fairly intense surgery, and Moon Knight was still being released weekly at the time and I really needed to have our Moon Boys looking after me. Descriptions are based on exactly how things felt to me at the time. Not Beta read, all strange occurrences are my fault! Posted on AO3 Here!

Steven had left you in bed with a promise to take the fastest shower he could. He was worried about leaving you at all, but they hadn’t even had the presence of mind to change their clothes since you were rushed into hospital 3 days earlier.

So when Steven opened the bathroom door to find the bed empty, worry was already creeping through his veins. It was replaced by the icy cold rush of panic and adrenaline when he heard a crash and a sharp cry of pain from the direction of the kitchen.

The events of the last few days had given the three of them many reasons to be grateful for the athletic condition their body remained in (thanks to their service with Khonshu, although that was a delicate topic right now), and as his legs gave an incredible burst of speed and his brain automatically steered him clear of obstacles Steven wondered if part of the power came from having two other people feeding energy and control into the body.

When he rounded the corner and found you hunched over against the kitchen counter, barely holding yourself up and your fingers in a white knuckled death-grip, he felt the blood drain from his face. Your name erupted from his lips in sheer panic.

“Oh God, love, what happened?” He’s doubled over beside you, his terrified eyes staring up into your face as one hand grips your elbow and the other tries to wrap around your shoulders.

Needless to say he’s shocked when you try to shake him off, your face screwed up against the pain in your abdomen and your breath coming in and out of your nose in short, sharp bursts. He notices the glitter of tears on your eyelashes.

“I’m fine.” you grind out through gritted teeth. Your bravery is betrayed by faint tremors running through your body.

“What do you need me to do, darling?” The front of Steven’s body is pressed against your side, like he’s protecting you from an armed intruder, the grip of his arm around your shoulders and his hand on your elbow is firm. Through the pulsing red haze and burning heat of shock and pain, his presence is too much for your already overwhelmed senses to handle right now. The humiliation is starting to set in and with everything else it’s making you short tempered.

You try to push him away, but the movement sends another sickening flair of pain through your body and you can’t stop the choked whimper that escapes. Your name sounds broken on his lips as he almost whispers it.

“Just back off!” you snap, and you don’t miss the hurt that briefly crosses his face. Guilt prickles in your chest. “Please…” you add weakly. There’s a pause, and you work to fight away the pulsing darkness at the corners of your vision.

“Would you please let me help you? Please?” Steven implores softly as he puts a half-step of space between your bodies. His impossibly dark eyes are almost desperate as his hands move, one makes a warm presence as it strokes your back, and the other carefully pries your tense hand from the work top and grasps it. You can see his deep need to care for you, to protect you from harm, glittering in his eyes.

“I’m fine. I’m not going to just sit around and have you guys run around after me.” You grind out, trying to ignore the screaming agony and flashing lights dancing across your vision.

“C’mon, love, it’s not like that. And it won’t be for long, you’ll be back up ‘n’ at ‘em before you know it.” Steven’s slightly-shaky words are meant to bring reassurance, but instead the pain and frustration digs itself in deeper and your temper gets the better of you.

“I can take care of myself! They said I only needed help for the first 24 hours. I’m already messing with your life. I’m not enslaving you to me like Khonshu-“ you felt the change before you saw or heard it.

“-For Christ’s sake you had emergency surgery three days ago!” Marc’s voice comes out in a harsh burst. You flinch slightly, sending pain through your body again, but you hear the fear behind his words. His hand on your back has stilled, the other is gripping yours tighter than Steven had.You can feel his strong pulse through your gripped hands, competing with your own racing heart. Suddenly you’re beyond overwhelmed, tears pricking harshly at your eyes as the pain seems to be refusing to settle and a strange mix of anxiety and anger bubbles in your chest at Marc’s reaction. Your legs have started to feel strange, like they’re being burnt but are numb at the same time, and there’s a blinding pressure building somewhere behind your eye sockets.

“Yeah, three days ago-” you challenge, only to be cut off by Marc.

“-They said you couldn’t be left alone for 24 hours! You’re signed off work for two weeks, and you’ve got 3 months of physio!”

His response, although factually correct, hits a nerve and your frustration explodes out of you in one last burst of energy. “Right I’ll just sit around like the damsel in distress so you can play hero! They said I could move around by myself after the first 24 hours, I just wanted make a fucking drink like a normal person!” The pain is still raging, your entire body tight like a strained rubber band, your breathing short and sharp. Yelling has used up the last of your energy reserves and you feel both the light-headed swirl of impending unconsciousness, and the prickling burn of a complete emotional meltdown coursing through your bloodstream.

Marc lets out a huff of air through his nose. For a moment he’s quiet, and you know he’s studying you, assessing how you’re doing. Maybe Steven and Jake are talking to him, because his hand resumes a gentle motion up and down your back and his voice is softer when he speaks again. Your eyes burn with tears and you have a futile hope that none are escaping.

“I know baby, I know. Breathe through it, it’ll get better in a minute.” You find yourself starting to time your breaths to the motions of his hand on your back - no doubt his intention - and slowly the impending darkness and flashing lights fade out as the pain recedes from a raging inferno to a persistent stabbing feeling.

After several long, tense minutes, you attempt to stand more upright. You make it nowhere near fully straight, that will take days - maybe weeks - yet, but you get far enough to look into your boyfriend’s dark eyes. The fear is still there, but the shock and mis-placed aggression has gone.

“Do you think you can move to the table?” He asks gently, and you’re glad he’s giving you the agency to move by yourself rather than just telling you what to do or manhandling you himself. You take another couple of deep breaths and nod.

He slowly guides you to sit in the nearest chair at the kitchen table, one hand at your elbow, the other on your lower back. He never applies any pressure, just maintains an alert closeness as you make your way to the chair on your own terms.

When you finally reach the seat, Marc helps to lower you down into it, taking the vast majority of your weight and accounting for your inability to bend (or straighten) the middle of your body and your shaky legs. His eyes dart around your form constantly as he gets you settled. Under his -unintentional- scrutiny you feel the need to explain yourself.

“I just wanted to make some tea. I tried to reach up for the tea bags, but it hurt really suddenly and I knocked the mug off the counter and it was instinct to try and catch it... I didn’t think about it…” Your voice is small. Marc’s raised voice and outburst has made you edgy on top of the shock of the incident itself, and the pain has made you feel unsteady and sick. You suddenly realise just how rough you actually feel.

Marc sighs as he drops to a crouch beside you. He knows he’d be exactly the same, refusing to be helpless in any way. Hell, he knows he was exactly the same back when he was a mercenary, before Konshu and the suit.

“I get it, I do. But you gotta be patient. It wasn’t exactly minor surgery and you’re still on the heavy drugs. We can’t risk messing up the repairs they’ve done, and there’s no need to make it worse for yourself when we can help-”

“- I don’t want you all to-” you begin, shaking your head but Marc is already gesturing for you to stop.

“- don’t, baby, please. We can’t bear to see you hurting, especially when we’re right here and can help you so much if you’ll let us.” The burning compassion in his eyes kills the response you were formulating. You suddenly find yourself unable to meet his eyes.

Marc’s hands cradle your face, his thumbs rubbing gently across your cheekbones and swiping away the wetness of traitorous tears. He looks -and sounds- close to crying himself. “Alright. I need to check your stitches, is that ok?”

You nod silently. Marc softly runs his hands down your arms, then carefully pulls up your shirt and delicately checks for any damage. There’s a long, stressful silence as Marc carefully manipulates the dressing on your stomach to see your wound better. You clench your teeth and focus on breathing evenly to prevent a whimper from escaping your throat.

“Looks okay, just a bit raw from the sudden movement.” Marc confirms finally, and as he lays gentle fingers against your skin to check for signs of internal bleeding or infection, you find yourself blurting out what’s currently on your mind.

“Is Steven freaking out?”

He glances up at the mirror, then focuses back on you. “Yeah. You know how he is.” His answer is surprisingly honest, and suddenly his head jerks up again, staring into the mirror steadily.

Marc is silent for a moment too long, glaring into the reflection of the mirror on the wall behind you. “What’s he saying?” You ask, an edge to your voice. Marc shakes his head, an annoyed look crossing his face. “It’s not Steven.” You blink. You’d only met Jake once.

Marc had fallen badly ill and wouldn’t accept any help. With a raging fever, violent cough and unable to keep any food or water down, Steven wasn’t able to convince Marc to either give up the body or accept help, and Marc was still the strongest of the alters when it came to control of the body. When it reached four days of not eating, the fever still hadn’t broken and Marc was no longer coherent. He was weak enough that Jake finally managed to take over. The two of you had spoken very little, with Jake struggling to maintain their failing body and only conscious long enough to refuse professional medical help and request whatever he felt they needed to get better (electrolyte drinks at first, then meal replacement shakes, and eventually soup. Open the window - another blanket - close the window - take the blanket away - around and around.). On the sixth day the fever broke, and finally on the eighth day an exhausted Jake surrendered the body to Steven, who carried them over the line to recovery.

“Okay, what’s Jake saying?”

A muscle is twitching in Marc’s jaw. “He wants to help.”

“Fine.” You manage a small shrug, tiredness starting to take over.

Marc gives a sharp shake of his head. “No. I don’t trust him.”

By now you’ve had enough. Your elbow thuds onto the table, forearm upright to support your heavy head as you drop your forehead into your open palm. Your other arm has found its own way to drape protectively around your swollen, sore abdomen. Staring at the floorboards you grind out “What the fuck is he gonna do Marc? Put a bullet in my head to put me out of my misery? Jesus, just let him help if he wants to. But if you and Steven want to take all the responsibility for putting up with your useless lump of a partner then… Whatever.”

Marc is silent for an unexpected length of time. You don’t really care to notice, the haze of an abused body making you miserable and strangely detached. Your attention is busy floating off somewhere outside your body when movement catches your eye and your boyfriend shifts to kneel right in front of you. His warm hand rests gently on your knee, and when he dips his head down to gaze up into your face it isn’t Marc you see. It isn’t Steven either.

You lift your head slightly. “Jake?”

Jake’s expression is sombre. “Honey, you’re not a ‘useless lump’, you’re recovering from some pretty heavy surgery.”

Your expression is almost dead, but tears spring to your eyes again as you tilt your head towards the smashed mug “kinda useless -“ then gesture towards your uncomfortably swollen stomach “- kinda lumpy.”

Jake looks incredibly sad. You suddenly wonder how many times he’s heard Marc’s internalised self-hatred, whether he tried to comfort him only to find himself talking to a metaphorical brick wall. He gently squeezes your thigh. “I know it sucks right now, okay? I know you’re uncomfortable, and in pain, and I know it’s wearing you out.” He pauses, and you can see the minuscule movement of his throat as he swallows. “We know you’ve been struggling for a while, even before the surgery, and not just with the physical stuff. We can see it. But we really want to help, honey. We’d put you in the suit if we could, I swear. So please let us help however we actually can?”

You find yourself having to divert your gaze from his, reminded too much of the fear in Steven and Marc’s eyes earlier.

“Honey?” Damn Jake and his incredible perceptiveness. You sigh.

“Is… I’m sorry I made Marc angry.”

You see Jake’s startled recoil in your peripheral vision. You feel it in your soul. Then he’s leaning in closer again, his hand squeezing your thigh so firmly you wonder if Marc is back. The voice that whispers your name like a prayer is all Jake, though.

“You - you didn’t make him angry, honey. He just - we just need to make sure you're okay.”

You don’t answer, and there’s a few beats of silence before Jake lets out a sigh like he’s been holding his breath for hours. He shifts his weight slightly, and on the edge of your gaze you see his head drop.

“There was no care for us, no-one to make sure we were okay when we were growing up. Marc especially took the worst of it - and there was no help for him when he was in pain, no-one to try to ease his suffering other than me and Steven, but it’s the same body so it wasn’t ever really a relief. We still feel the pain even when we’re not in control, y’know?”

Your brain boggles at his words. You notice him nod his head slightly, you wonder if he’s talking to the others in the headspace, then he raises his head with a movement so decisive you can practically feel the resolve rolling off him in waves.

“And it terrifies us to think that you might feel the same way - that you might be hurting, or scared, or just down, and think there’s no-one to help. Because we will do anything, give anything for you. So please, please let us help you. Please?”

You lift your head, stunned. Jake’s face is so sincere, the tears that threatened to fall earlier start to trickle down your cheeks in earnest. Jake's thumb is rubbing soothing circles on your thigh as he patiently waits for your answer. Unable to find words, you slowly nod. He nods in response; a small, lopsided smile easing the tense lines of his face.

“It’s not forever. I know it feels like it right now, but they said you can go back to work in two weeks. And I think that means we have an excuse to spend some quality downtime together, y’know?” Jake’s thick accent adds a suggestive edge to his words.

A bark of a laugh escapes you, and you feel the tension in your face ease slightly. “Well.. We can’t do that until at least week four, so you’re out of luck there.”

A stricken look passes across Jake’s face in a flash, but he quickly smothers it with a smirk. You feel a frown twitch through your eyebrows before Jake speaks again. “Damn, I guess we’ll have to get started on that ‘watch list’ we’ve been making. And the doctor said to eat whatever you want, whenever you want while you’re on those good drugs, so I really hope you want a lot of take-out…”

You snort out a laugh but it’s short lived, the mirth washing away like the tide. That look you caught sight of is bothering you. “Jake… what was that look just now?”

Jake feigns innocence. He’s terrible at it. “What look?”

“Just now, right after I said we couldn’t…” You trail off leadingly. He doesn’t take the bait.

“You mean my sexy look?” Jake wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. A smile breaks across your face but it’s fleeting and you’re not letting this drop. Your tone is almost one of warning.

“Jake…”

The look on your face seems to say more than your words or tone ever could. Jake sighs and drops his gaze to the floor. When he looks up at you again a few seconds later, his expression is serious.

“I wasn’t suggesting that. I wasn’t even thinking about it -”

“-Jake -”

“ - I would never think that was okay. Not right now. Not any time you're hurt, or just don’t want to -”

“ - Jake - “

“ - You know that right?”

You sigh. Jake’s being so powerfully sincere it feels like all three of them are speaking to you as one. Maybe they are. You gently cup his face in your hands, having to use your grip to pull him closer as you can’t bend nearer to him. He follows willingly, kneeling up to bring his face an inch from yours, his hands snugly tucked against the chair under your thighs so he doesn’t put any pressure on your body at all.

“I know. and thank you, all of you.”

He genuinely looks confused. “What for?”

“Everything.” Giving him no chance to argue, you press a -very gentle - kiss to his lips. His response is so careful it makes you want to cry again, especially when he eases away after just a few seconds. Resting his forehead against yours, your entire vision is swallowed by his deep, incredibly dark eyes as he murmurs. “Siempre, mi angel.”

#moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #Moon Knight fan fiction #Moon Knight fanfic #Moon Knight fan fic #steven grant #marc spector #Jake Lockley #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #Steven Grant Angst #Marc Spector Angst #jake lockley angst #Oscar Isaac #Oscar Isaac Character

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melodymakesart · 9 months

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Santiago "Pope" Garcia in Bloom for Me by @whatthefishh - Fanart

As I have been drawing A LOT more lately, I've been learning more and more how to use Clip Studio Paint (huge thank you @guruan for some of the invaluable advice you've given me). I truly didn't think I was even capable of drawing something like this? But between Mona's fantastic story telling, my knowledge of art, some patience, much needed advice and learning of this program, I've been able to pull this together.

It's not perfect but I can see the improvements I've made over time and I'm looking forward to see what I'll be able to make next! It's hard telling which way the winds of inspiration will blow lol. Going back to writing now that I got this hyperfixation completed hehe.

Make sure you read Bloom for Me! It's an amazing story about regency Santi <3 My beloved.

----

Please do not redistribute or post my art without my permission.

Please do not alter my artwork without permission.

You may not use my art for commercial purposes.

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 2 months

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Snippet for “Why don’t you punish me then?”

Poe Dameron x F!Reader

For @for-a-longlongtime 💜

Subby little Poe is such a brat~

Hope to post this in full tonight!

#Oscar Isaac #oscar issac characters #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #Star Wars fic #poe dameron #Poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron smut #Poe dameron fan fiction #Poe dameron fic #brat!poe dameron #the last jedi #rise of skywalker #the force awakens #fanfic #fanfiction

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maplemind · 1 year

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So, I’m reading the Triple Frontier screenplay - it looks like this was a million drafts ago, it’s absolutely nothing like the film…

BUT there are some interesting nuggets of detail, like these ones about Benny…

Some of these details still seem to apply to the finished film, but I wonder if the depression / pills / self doubt / despair thing was a note they gave Garrett for the character? I can kind of see it… 🧐🥺

#triple Frontier #benny miller #ben miller #Benjamin miller #garret hedlund #garrett hedlund characters #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fan fic #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fan fiction #triple frontier fanfiction #Charlie hunnam #Charlie hunnam characters #Oscar Isaac #oscar isaac characters #Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal characters

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jake-g-lockley · 2 years

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Getting Lost in Translation (Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x desi!reader)

Masterlist | Playlist

Warnings: Violence, mentions of torture, mentions of PTSD, mentions of trafficking (drug and human), non-sexual nudity, swearing

Word Count: 5.4 k

Summary: You go undercover with Santiago Garcia to get information about a drug/human trafficking cartel.

A/N: Take a shot every time I say “dupatta” and you’ll end up in the hospital (sorry). Also is it really a Santiago fan fic if you don't mention his gammy knees AHAHAHA <333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your POV

You’ve always enjoyed the quiet village life, with people who lived real lives, rather than the calculated and time managed life that you had to endure when growing up. You were grateful for your upbringing in a well-to-do household which allowed you to study and grow up in comfort.

After five years of medical school and two years working as a doctor in a city hospital, you decided that it was time to give back to the community that needed help the most. One day, you quit your job and never turned back, cutting off all contact with your family, working as an English and Science teacher at a small village in Tamil Nadu, India. You used your knowledge of languages to help the folks of the village by acting as a translator with those who offer foreign aid.

You woke up at the crack of dawn and went to bed when the moon was up high in the sky. It was tough but you loved every second of it. You were finally happy.

That was until something horrible started happening in your village. Children were going missing and you started spending your time comforting distraught parents. These were children that you taught in the small school and your heart ached with every second that they were gone.

The police had done some investigation of their own and found out that the kids’ disappearance was linked to a trafficking ring, which made you feel helpless and you almost lost yourself with the worry that you were experiencing.

Nevertheless, you had to get it together and find some type of solution to help these families, and after weeks of requesting for aid, you were finally due to meet the group of individuals who would help find these kids.

So here you were standing with the police at the airport, waiting. They had told you that they would be there at 1 pm but apparently their flight from Miami had been delayed. You nervously fiddle with your big jimmikis as your eyes scan the people coming out of arrivals. Suddenly, you spot a team of big burly western men walking towards you and the officers.

“That’s them, isn’t it, officer.” You say in Tamil to the police officer beside you.

“Yes, ma.” he replies, waving them towards where they were standing.

“Hi! I’m Y/N and I’ll be your translator while you are here.” you say, stepping up, offering your hand to the nearest of the men.

A tall man with a baseball cap that said ‘Standard Heating Oil’ took your hand and shook it, quickly introducing his team as they loaded their luggage into the trucks. “I’m Frankie, this is my team. The brothers, Benny and Will on the far left, Tom in the middle and Santiago on my right.”

“Nice to meet all of you.” you say, giving them a toothy grin, which they all returned except for the man with salt and pepper curls, Santiago. His face was arranged into a calculated and poised manner that showed little to no emotion.

You quickly translated a few conversations between the group of men and the police before getting into the van and a few minutes later, the van was speeding towards the outskirts of the city towards the village that was about two hours away. You stayed silent throughout the ride, choosing to admire the scenery outside, occasionally eavesdropping on the conversations that the men were having behind you.

They seemed like a chummy bunch and you were briefed about the field experience that they had, which made you feel slightly better about letting them take hold of the ropes and find these children. The van abruptly stops and you peak to the front to see what was going on. A cow was crossing the road, a regular occurrence here in India.

“I heard people here worship cows, Will.” one of the men says, making you turn to look at them with a disdainful look on your face.

“We do not worship cows, we respect them. Many people here consider the cow to be a sacred symbol of life that should be protected and revered.” You say, pointedly, trying not to roll your eyes at the men.

Santiago and Frankie chuckled.

“Oopsie, sorry, missy.” said Benny with a smile, leaning his weight forward onto the seat in front of him.

“See Benny, they don’t worship your girlfriend.” Will says, earning a punch from Benny.

“She said, respect boys.” Frankie said, sending an unyielding glare at the both of them. He was clearly the mother goose of the team and the other two men actually listened to him.

“You sound incredibly eloquent for someone who is living in a small rural village. What’s your story?” Tom asked.

“Studied in the UK and worked as a doctor for a few years and decided that there are a lot of people who need help in outskirt villages.” you shrug. “I also speak multiple languages to help with foreign aid.”

“Impressive.” Tom nods, approvingly.

“So you guys are used to working together?” you asked, awkwardly trying to keep the conversation a float, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Oh yea,” Frankie says “We’ve always been a team and we were tracking the same cartel that we think is operating throughout South India and other parts of the world for quite a while now, that's why we answered to your distress signal. We believe that it is a human trafficking organization as well as a drug trafficking organization.”

“Those poor children, I know them personally. I can’t imagine what they are going through right now.” you say biting your bottom lip, swallowing the tears that are threatening to bubble out of your eyes.

“You personally know them?” Will asks.

“Yea, they are my students,” you say. “Very bright kids, quick learners.”

Just as Frankie opened his mouth to ask another question, the van stopped again, signifying that you had arrived at your destination. You adjusted your dupatta, draping it ever so lightly over your hair, smoothed your kurta top and stepped out of the van, waiting for the men to follow you out.

You led them to the house of the village head and instructed them to remove their boots and socks before entering. Santiago groaned as he bent down to pull his socks off and you heard a light fluster of pain. You waited for him to finish and you followed him into the house.

Tom started to explain their plan, and where they are planning to infiltrate this group. You rapidly translate the information to the village head, taking down some notes yourself. You were impressed by the amount of detail put together in this plan. The intel that they had already collected showed that the children are being kept alive in a village not far from here. If everything went smoothly, the kids would be back with them. But then came the tricky situation.

“We will need someone to come with one of us to stay in the opposite village so that we can make sure that the information we got isn’t bogus without drawing attention to ourselves.” Santiago finally spoke.

You were slightly taken aback by his voice. It was soft but had an edge to it that tickled you. His slight accent sounded pleasantly melodious to your ears but still maintained an air of authority that could quiet a room in an instant. You blinked, focusing on the information that he had just said, translating it to the village head.

You wait for him to respond and you sigh when he does.

“He wants me to go.” you say to Santiago, looking him in his eyes for the first time, holding his gaze. Santiago stares back, his eyes unwavering.

“And rightfully so, you have medical skills and can pass off as a villager.” Tom says, nodding.

“Then I’ll go with you.” Santiago says.

“Do you have a plan on how you are going to disguise yourself?” you ask.

“Yea, I was thinking of going in as a deaf and mute man,” he says.

“Great, I can sign, this will go perfectly.” you say finalizing it.

“Good job, team, now we can start the preparation.” Tom said, finalizing the meeting.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The police had gotten you and Santiago a small hut to live in at the outskirts of the opposite village for him to do his reconnaissance. You both were to pose as husband and wife and they had given you a fake thaali to be worn on a yellow string around your neck to signify your marriage. You slyly noticed that Santiago didn’t wear a ring, unlike Frankie and Tom but you assumed that he had a girlfriend somewhere in America.

“Hold still,” you tell him, wrapping your old dupatta around his face to conceal his identity. He wanted to go into the markets where most of the town gossip would buzz about. He was dressed in some clothes that were given to him by the village head and had his bulletproof vest under it.

“I am holding still, your hands are shaking.” he said, smugly.

Your hands were shaking. You were a trained medical professional and your hands were shaking. Santiago made you feel nervous. He is a very intimidating man. This whole operation made you feel nervous. You just wanted it to be over as soon as it started.

“Pin,” you held out your hand and Santiago dropped the pin into it.

You quickly pin the edge and step back to admire your handy work, and catch his eyes. He had the most beautiful baby doe eyes, framed with long eyelashes that could make any girl jealous. You stared a little too long until Santiago clears his throat.

“Done staring, chica?” He says, amusement lacing his voice.

“Wasn’t staring.” You mumbled, grabbing your saree’s pallu and draping it over your head, tucking the ends into your blouse. Turning you look at the mirror behind you and mark the parting of your hair with a little bit of red kumkum, adjusting your pottu.

“Do I look like I can pass as someone’s wife?” You say, turning back to Santiago.

“Yea, you look great.” He answered.

“That's not what I asked, but thanks.” You both walk to the market center, you gripping Santiago’s firm bicep and stirring him around. You strike up a conversation with one of the vegetable sellers.

“I’ve never seen you here before, ma.” The man says in Tamil.

“Yea, uncle, my husband and I moved here a few weeks ago, didn’t have the energy to come out. He’s deaf and mute and our child went missing a few months ago.” you answer, staring into space as your eyes teared up.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, ma. Things like that have been happening here too, you know?” He says as you pick a few vegetables.

“What do you mean?” You sniff.

“We think it's the gang of people at the south end of the village,” he leans closer and whispers. “Children have been going missing and no one is here to defend them.”

You allowed a tear to drip down your face and you turned to Santiago and signed to him, that you have information. Paying for your vegetables, you thanked the old man and walked along the path.

“Vegetable soup again?” Santiago whispered.

“Seriously, we are undercover and that's what you’re worried about?” You hiss back.

“I’m a hungry man, chica.” he whispers back after a while. You could hear an exaggerated pout in his voice.

“Make do with what you have,” you say, as you stir him to the meat store.

“See, I knew you were nice.” He whispered, his eyes sparkling.

You rolled your eyes and bought some mutton to cook something for the man. After all, he was the one helping you and so far, everything has been going pretty good.

“Do you find me intimidating, cariño?” Santiago suddenly asks as he chopped the vegetables using his knife while you cooked the rice and mutton into something edible. You look up, not expecting his question, the both of you usually cook and eat silently. He had an eyebrow cocked up and a ghost of a smirk on his face.

“Obviously.” You say, looking back at the mutton dish.

“How so?” he persisted.

“Because you’re so, well, you? You just have that infuriatingly calm look etched on your face that doesn’t give me any information to work with. You’re obviously a military man who’s very particular about following the rules and I’ve been known to bend the rules sometimes and I’m scared that I would slip up and upset you.” You blurt out.

Silence.

“I’ll try to be less intimidating. You’re right, I am very particular about protocol but you’ve followed everything down to a T so far and all the information that you have gotten has been matching perfectly with the intel that we already have.” He says, smiling.

You smile back, absorbing Santiago’s smile. It was genuine and it was a beautiful smile. It contorted his face in a different, more healing way and it was making him seem younger than he is.

Over dinner, he told you about his boys and how they served together. He also told you all the weird things they would do, which elicited a laugh from you that echoed around the small hut.

You tell him about your life before this and how different everything was, until the both of you had sleep lulling in your eyes. You don’t remember the last thing you said before closing your eyes, but you did know that you felt significantly more comfortable with Santiago around.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You woke up abruptly to Santiago thrashing violently in his sleep. You’re familiar with the effects of PTSD on a person, you’ve seen it many times before, but this just hurts to watch.

You grabbed his shoulders and lightly held him until he stopped shaking. His breathing softens and he opens his eyes, looking up at you and then jumping away from your grasp.

“It's ok, it was just a dream. You’re here.” you say, grabbing a hold of his hand. He reciprocated the touch by squeezing your hand.

“Sorry I woke you, cariño.” He says softly.

“It's alright, you wanna talk about it?” you say, just out of courtesy, not really expecting him to say much about it.

“My team and I came out of a very tough mission recently and I feel like I am the one to be blamed for all the mistakes that we made.” he whispers. “There were a lot of people’s lives on the line and we lost all of them because of one small error.”

You look up, shocked, not expecting a full revelation from Santiago. You mask your shock and scooch closer to him and put a hand on his back, rubbing circles.

“Hey, what happened, happened, alright? Past tense. Stay here, with me in the present.” you say soothingly. You knew nothing could change what had happened and Santiago would always have to carry that pain with him, but you tried anyway.

He nodded without a word and you both just sat in the dark for a while just listening to each other's breathing and the crickets outside.

“Go back to sleep, we have a long day tomorrow.” You whisper into Santiago’s ear.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You let the cool water of the river envelope you with its freshness. You were used to bathing in cold water so early in the morning after living a year in the village. It helps with waking you up and you feel refreshed throughout the day.

Despite telling Santiago to sleep, you stayed awake all night staring at his sleeping face. Even though you find it hard to admit it, you were definitely harboring a small crush on Santiago Garcia. A part of you wanted to wake up every morning with him by your side. He is a very handsome man and has pretty good intentions as far as you could tell. You spent all night memorizing every single detail that was etched into his face, wondering whether each one of those lines has its own story.

Your thoughts were cut off by a sound close to your right and you grabbed the knife that you had strapped to your thigh and held it in front of you.

“Who’s there?” You say in Tamil and then repeating the line again in English while cautiously step forward from the river.

“Yo, it's just me- HOLY FUCK!!!” Santiago screamed, eyes wide, frozen to the spot.

“DUDE WHAT ARE YOU SCREAMING AT??!” You yell back at him.

Then you look down and realize that Santiago caught a full view of your very topless body. You facepalm, grabbing your towel and wrapping it around you.

“Sorry, sorry, gods Santiago, you of all people should know not to sneak up on me.” You chastise him, folding your arms across your chest.

“Pretty amazing way to start my morning though.” He says, after regaining what's left of his brain cells.

Your mouth twisted into a scowl.

“I guess we have to get even now.” You say, smugly, trying to hide your ulterior motive of wanting to see Santiago Garcia shirtless.

“Easy, your wish is my command, princesa.” He says, whipping his shirt off with one swift motion.

God damn.

Yep, exactly what you expected, sculpted by Michelangelo for the gods, even by the gods or greater than the gods. You've had your fair share of men in medical school, but nothing comes close to this archangel.

“Like what you see?” He tilts his head to catch your expression but you keep your emotions steady, not allowing them to leak onto your face.

You shrug and avoid his eyes, swooping down to grab your clothes that you wanted to wash. He pulls off his trousers and walks into the lake.

Tightening the hold of your towel, you begin to wash your saree and underclothes, hanging them to dry on a rock nearby as you watch Santiago do laps around the river, his muscles flexing. You snap yourself out of it and walk back to the small hut to change.

When you got out, Santiago had a towel wrapped around his waist, a little too low slung for your sanity. He was adjusting a mirror on the tree to shave his face.

Suddenly, you hear something to your far left and you feel like you were being watched. Your peripheral vision caught sight of the trees moving and you moved closer to Santiago.

“Santi, give me the razor, and don’t talk.” you whisper. You give him a smile and sign that there are people watching. He nodded, handing you the razor as you closed the gap.

“There is someone in the trees to our left.” You whisper as you lather the soap onto his face, caressing his jaw. He places a hand on your exposed midriff and turns the both of you around so that he is facing the trees while you start calmly shaving his face, fingers moving to taut the skin, cleaning the razor every so often trying hard not to focus on Santiago’s fingers on your skin.

You start to sing softly in Tamil, to act nonchalant, and watch as Santiago’s eyes scan the trees rapidly over your head.

“I count two to the right.” He whispers back, tilting his head up to allow you better access. You place a finger to his lips to shush him and after a while you turn his head, starting on the other side.

Are they still watching? You sign.

Santiago nods, barely.

You finish shaving his face and wipe the access soap off with your fingers, leaving a small kiss on his nose which took him by surprise but he didn’t react, knowing that they were undercover. He pulled you in for a hug and murmured in your hair “Whatever happens, just trust me”. He kisses your forehead and pulls away, giving you a small smile, grabbing onto your hand, leading you into the hut.

Once inside, Santiago rushed around to get dressed and you frantically packed all the stuff you had into the one bag that you brought, along with Santiago’s stuff and stuffed it under a pile of hay. Santiago grabbed the satellite phone and called Frankie. You watch as he paces around speaking in frantic Spanish giving orders to his team mate.

For days now he’s been in contact with Frankie, giving him the information that they have been collecting. Just before he could put the phone down, a knock sounded at the door. You tossed Santiago a dupatta and he quickly covered his face as you crossed the floor towards the door.

“Who’s there?” You say in Tamil as you open the door, revealing three men.

“Hello, kanna, we would like to ask you and your husband a few questions.” One of the men answered, smiling.

They all looked like village folk but you’ve never seen their faces before. You turned and signed to Santiago and he nodded his head. Stepping back, you grab onto Santiago’s arm and the both of you sit cross legged in front of the men.

You answered their questions with an unwavering face after telling them that your husband was deaf and dumb. You also tell them the same sob story that you had been telling the village people.

One of the men leaned forward and grabbed your thali, harshly pulling you with it as they observed it. You feel Santiago flinch beside you as you beg them to not hurt you. They push you down by your shoulders making you gasp.

“We’re going to ask you again. Who are you and who is he?” One of the men snarled into your face as you tried to recoil away.

“Please, please don’t hurt me and my husband. Don’t hurt him, he doesn’t know what's going on.” You pleaded and wailed, trying to get away from the question.

“Hey guys, look here, he's not Indian, is he?”At the corner of your eye, another one of the men had ripped your dupatta off Santiago’s face and your heart stops.

“I think we need to take these two to our boss.” You noticed that Santiago wasn’t doing anything to defend himself as they pushed him towards you.

“Don’t say anything, let them capture us.” Santiago whispers into your ear.

He was offering you and him up as bait. You looked into his eyes and went with it. Went with the trust that you had built up with him over the two and a half weeks.

You nod as the men bound your hands and blindfold you. You let yourself be dragged up by them and then they lead you out of the hut into the forest. Your bare feet hurt against the harsh forest floor but you didn’t say a single word.

After what felt like hours you hear yourself approaching different voices, not of the men who kidnapped you and Santiago. You were pushed into your knees and you heard Santiago groan beside you, slight relief spreading through you when you heard his voice.

Your blindfold was ripped off and you blinked, adjusting to the light. You first turned to Santiago who was kneeling uncomfortably beside you, his beautiful face caked with sweat, curls scruffy. Then you turned to the person who was standing in front of you, trying to decipher his features.

“What do we have here? An American and a village woman. What an unlikely pairing.” He says in English. “Let me get straight to the point. Tell us who you are and we will decide our next course of action.”

Santiago stayed silent, staring up at the man, gaze unflattering.

“Military? CIA? Police? RAW?” The man stepped closer to you, lifting your chin up to face him. He was a big bald man with a giant mustache.

You and Santiago stay silent.

“Looks like we have to bring out the big guns.” The man says, gesturing to his henchmen.

“You don’t have to worry, chellam, I don’t hit women.” He says to you, squeezing your cheek, your eyes widening with fear.

Then the torture started. They started to hit Santiago with such brutality that you couldn’t help but scream. It went on for so long and you screamed at them to stop until your throat was sore.

Santiago was bloody and battered and yet, he still didn’t say a single word. After a while the henchmen gave up, throwing the both of you into a closed cell.

Santiago’s POV

The room around him spun uncontrollably and pain soared through him in horrible waves. He felt like he was reaching a light, trying to grasp it. No. It wasn’t a light, it was a sound. He tried grasping onto it, but it kept slipping away. Then he felt it, a soft nudge beside him and he grasped onto the sound, letting it envelop him.

It was her voice. She was pleading with him to stay with her, stay in the present, like she did yesterday when he awoke from the horrible nightmare. She was saying his name, and he clung onto that, the way it rolled off her tongue melodiously and reached his ears, canceling out all the ringing that he had been listening to for the past few minutes, or hours.

He slowly opened his eyes, and focused on her form. She looked relatively unhurt but he could vaguely see tears streaming down her beautiful face. He tried to tell her that he was ok, but all he could do was taste iron in his mouth. He spat out the blood and shook his head, breathing in and out to steady the spinning.

“Santiago, I need you to listen to me,” Y/N says, kicking her legs over his own outstretched ones. “I need you to pull my saree over my thigh and grab the knife that’s strapped to it.”

He nodded, still trying to process.

“Santi, come on, look at me, pull.” She whispers frantically, shaking her legs.

His head snapped up at her again and he fumbled with her saree, trying to pull it up to gain access to the knife. Finally after several tries, he pushed the fabric over where the knife was and pulled it, holding it in front of him, unsure of what to do next.

“Come on, free yourself.” She instructed and he turned the knife towards his bounded hands, autopilot taking over as he sawed himself loose.

He leaned back, trying to blink away the pain as he focused on freeing her, so as to not cut her.

The second he frees her, he hears gunshots and yelling. He laughs, completely delirious to the pain.

“My boys are here.” He says as he slips into unconsciousness.

Your POV

Santiago falls back as you feel your hands slip out of the restraints. You hear him mumble something incoherent as you swung our legs off his own and start slapping him to keep him awake.

“No, no, no, stay with me, you idiot.” You hiss, feeling his pulse. It was there, but faint.

You pull his shirt up and run your fingers over his body in the dark, checking for any cuts. You feel something warm and wet, pulling back to smell the familiar twang of iron. You pull the pallu of your saree off your shoulder and use it to stem the bleeding, pressing hard with one hand, the other still slapping Santiago’s face.

“Pope! Y/N! Where are you guys?” A familiar voice called out.

“Frankie! Frankie, in here, in the cells, Santi’s bleeding out, please, I need a med pack, stat!” You yell as loud as your sore throat could handle.

Frankie appears in front of you with full tactical gear and shoots the lock of the cell. In seconds, he got a flashlight and the med pack out. You examined the wound under the dim stream of light and it was still beading with blood.

You instruct Frankie to douse the wound with disinfectant and your hands as you thread a needle. As fast as you possibly could, you sewed the wound shut.

You sigh and turn to Frankie, shaking your head.

“I know, he’s a little stupid, but you’ll get use to it.” He smiles down at his unconscious friend. “We got the kids and the others are currently doing a headcount.”

“How did you guys find us?” You say, holding onto Santiago’s hand.

“He has a tracker on him and after that frantic phone call, we traced you guys here. Let me guess, he refused to speak?” He says, squinting at where your hand was.

“Yep, didn’t say a single word, the stubborn man. Your timing is impeccable. I couldn’t imagine what would have happened if you didn’t turn up in time.” You say, your eyes welling up with fresh tears again.

“Hey, it's alright, let's get this man to the hospital, okay?”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Hey.” You hear a voice and you sit up immediately, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Hey, yourself. Do you know how stupid that was?” You glare at the man on the bed in front of you.

“Mmm, kinda, but we’re alive right?” He says, giving you a smile.

You roll your eyes, biting your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling back at him. His eyes went slightly glassy as if he was thinking about something.

“What are you thinking about?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking him, snapping him out of his daze.

“Your tits.” He replied without hesitation.

“¿Qué? You know what, nevermind, I don’t even want to know.” Frankie says, making Santiago snap his head to his left where Frankie was lounging on a chair.

You massage your temples, embarrassment creeping up your face.

“Oh, hi Catfish, didn’t see you there.” Santi grins.

“Well, good morning to you too, cabrón.” he says getting up and giving Santiago a kiss on his forehead, making him cringe into the pillows and you giggle at the sight.

Frankie left the room, closing the door behind him, not before uttering “No monkey business, you two.”

“Asshole,” Santiago chuckles, before turning back to you.

“You’ve got a lot of admirers who visited you.” you say, scanning his face.

You were so glad to be present during the reunion of the children and their parents. All of the children were relatively unharmed but the bruises on their wrist signified the burden of the trauma that they had to carry for the rest of their lives.

Santiago shifts and pats the bed. You hesitate, but eventually climb in, snuggling lightly into his side.

“I have to admit, you are growing on me, Pope.” You mutter as his good arm pulls you closer.

“Mmm, I know.” He whispers, kissing your forehead.

“If you pull a stunt like that again, I swear, I will kill you myself.” You say in Tamil.

“I think we’re getting lost in translation, cariño.” He mumbles into your hair, slipping back into sleep.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Translation:

Jimmikis: A style of earring worn by women of the Indian subcontinent.

Ma: Indians usually call all women “ma”, can be a term of endearment but also is used casually.

Thaali: A mangala sutra, or thaali, is a necklace that the groom ties around the bride's neck in the Indian subcontinent. The necklace serves as a visual marker of status as a married Hindu woman. Mangala sutra's origin dates back to the 6th Century AD as a single yellow thread was tied around the bride for protection from other men and evil spirits. The term mangala sutra in Sanskrit means holy thread.

Dupatta: The dupattā is a shawl traditionally worn by women in Indian subcontinent to cover the head and shoulders

Chica: Girl

Saree: A sari or saree is a women's garment from the Indian subcontinent,that consists of an un-stitched stretch of woven fabric arranged over the body as a robe, with one end tied to the waist, while the other end rests over one shoulder as a stole, baring a part of the midriff.

Pallu: The loose end of a sari, worn over one shoulder or the head

Kumkum: AKA sindoor. Kumkum is a powder used for social and religious markings in India. It is either made from turmeric or saffron. The turmeric is dried and powdered with a bit of slaked lime, which turns the rich yellow powder into a red color. Kumkum is most often applied by Indians to the forehead

Pottu: A bindi or pottu is a coloured dot or, in modern times, a sticker worn on the center of the forehead, originally by Hindus, Sikhs, Buddhists and Jains from the Indian subcontinent.

Cariño: Sweetie

Princesa: Princess

Kanna: Sweetie

Chellam: Darling

¿Qué?: What?

Cabrón: Dumbass

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