everytime i wake up...

luna | 18+ blog | marvel sideblog | insomniac 🖤💫 |

[melodygatesauthor]

Cherry Pie

Steven Grant X f!Reader

COWRITTEN BY: @welcometostayingawake

Part 13 in the February Fluff and Fuck 2023 Challenge

Day 13 Prompt - First Time

(A/N: I know I skipped Day 12, Mona and I were too excited and I had to post this one first, I'll have 12 up soon!)

Summary: It's Valentine's Day. You and Steven have been dating for a little while, and decide to take things a step further tonight. Neither of you expect this to be the night that Steven discovers a kink he has, and neither of you expect it to go this far.

Tags/Warnings: NSFW, virgin!Steven, Steven has a breeding kink, smut, cum as lube, multiple orgasms, cum eating, p in v creampie, Reader is not on birth control

Word Count: 3.2k

Steven Grant was never the type to do anything unpredictable. When you’d met him a little over a month and a half ago, he was ringing you up at the gift shop inside the National Art Gallery in London. He had left such an impression on you that you couldn’t help but go back the very next day, only to buy something you didn’t need just to see the gift shop clerk smile at you again. He had a way of stopping time, letting his hooded eyes linger on you for a little too long, but for you it wasn’t long enough.

You had to make the first move, as it wasn’t going to come from him, that much was clear. The third time you found yourself in the gift shop, with no real reason for being there other than wanting to see him again, you decided to be more bold. You invited him out for dinner, to which he promptly turned into a stuttering mess and eagerly agreed. He was more confident than you initially had thought after getting a chance to pick his brain. As soon as you brought up the new Egyptian exhibit, he came to life.

It was like his entire body changed when he talked about it, all his knowledge spilling out like a faucet. No stuttering or stammering, no confusion or lack of certainty, he was confident and clear, and he didn’t stop talking. You liked watching the way he lit up, so excited to have someone just listening to him while he went on for nearly the entire date. Normally something like that would be irritating, never being asked about yourself, but you liked to see him so happy and passionate. It excited you.

He didn’t make the move to kiss you that night, so you had to lean in first, but that was okay with you. After a few bad dates with guys that were all too handsy, you were glad to be spending time with someone who respected your boundaries and let you initiate the first touch. Steven was like no one you’d ever dated, and you were going to make sure you held on to him.

That’s why, when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend, you jumped at the opportunity. There was no chance you were going to say no to someone as pure and genuine as him. Men like him were a rare breed, and you couldn’t imagine finding someone who treated you better. The days blended together, spending time meeting up for lunch dates by the museum or going to his flat in the evening to watch a corny movie and makeout on the couch. With every passing day, you fell deeper and deeper in love with him. It was hard not to, really. 

Neither of you had taken the next step though. The next step to do something like that, to go any further with your physical relationship. You weren’t a virgin, but Steven had told you that he was, and so you were letting him decide when the time was right to move forward. This didn’t change the fact that you’d gotten yourself so worked up kissing him that you had to excuse yourself to the bathroom once or twice mid-makeout to ease the ache that was building. While you were in there you had to keep one hand over your mouth while you were two knuckles deep into your soaking mound. 

You would go home after spending the evening pressed against him, trying not to let the desire vibrating beneath your bones spill out in a disconcerting way, afraid of scaring Steven away with how badly you wanted him. It was proving to be quite difficult, holding off until he felt ready. The littlest actions would set you off, like the time he had chocolate leftover on his lip and his tongue peeked out to swipe at it, your eyes zoning out in a daydream about what could be if you acted on your carnal thoughts. 

When he finally mentioned it, you were so excited you could hardly contain it. It was Valentine’s Day, and the two of you were a mess on the couch. His mouth was spreading over yours in open, wet kisses, the feeling of his chest leaning against yours heady; the desire to be closer so strong for you. Steven’s tongue licked into your mouth over and over, pulling needy noises from you as he went. You felt the nagging press of his cock against your thigh. He had one hand touching your breast over your shirt and the other was holding your waist while he hovered his body over yours. Breaking apart for air, he looked at you with such a heated gaze you swore he could read your mind.

“I…I think I’m ready, love, I want to-I want to try it.” He said breathlessly.

You couldn’t contain your excitement.

“Really? Are you sure?” You said eagerly, glad to be able to satisfy the throbbing between your legs, but not wanting to push him. 

“Yeah,” he mumbled as he dove back in for more ravenous kisses that trailed to your jaw and eventually your neck.

“Okay, let’s move this to the bed then.” You were impatient and needy, and now that you knew he wanted to take it further, you didn’t want to wait.

“Alright, yeah.” 

He walked over to the bed and started taking off his shirt, letting your eyes wander over his now revealed torso. You loved Steven’s body. He wasn’t overly toned, muscular with some cushion - his behind surprised you the first time you noticed it, overall breathtaking nonetheless. You removed your own clothes with haste, discarding your soaking panties as well before Steven could get to them. When you looked back up, you saw Steven with his cock in his hand. It was bigger than you were expecting, judging from the bulge in his pants that was pressing against you all this time.

“Do you have protection?” You asked, finding yourself salivating while staring at his length, having a hard time dragging your eyes upward to meet his.

He visibly gulped. “Bollocks.”

Damn, you thought, it was good while it lasted. Unless…

“We don’t have to, dove, I’d be happy with anything you give me.” Steven suggested.

You walked closer to him and touched your fingertips to his neck gently. You wanted him so badly, more than anything, and here he was standing at attention for you. You wanted to feel him inside of you, the heavy weight of him pushing into you. His breathing was ragged, desperate, needy. You weren’t on birth control, the hormones not sitting well with your physiology, so you stayed away from the stuff. This could be risky, but it was a chance you were willing to take in order to have him fill you with his thick cock like you’d been imagining for weeks.

“How about, just when you’re about to…you know…you pull out?” You suggested, fully pressing your palm to his chest now and looking up to stare into his imploring dark eyes.

He nodded, curls flopping into his eyes, “Yeah, yeah I can manage that… I think.”

With that you slotted your lips over his once again in a flurry of passionate and heavy kisses, your desperation spilling into your actions. His hands were roaming, exploring, feeling up your sides and cupping your breasts. He pinched your nipples between his fingers and moaned into you. You felt his cock pressing against your abdomen eagerly as you pressed yourself to him again, desperate for a hole to bury itself into.

The bed was right behind you, so you fell back onto it, shimmying over to situate yourself by the pillows. Steven quickly climbed over you, strong arms caging you in. You spread your legs around him wide, ready to take him. The fact that he didn’t know what he was doing was part of the excitement. It was both adorable and enticing, the nervously eager way he looked at your pussy. He ran a finger over your glistening slit, causing you to arch your back into his touch.

“Ahh, Steven.” You breathed, keeping your eyes on him. His eyes never left your face.

He was fascinated in the way you reacted to him touching different parts of your soaking mound, the different sounds you let out egging him on. He liked the way you shuddered when he found that hard nub between your folds, your lips parting on a gasp. Your hips shifted forward as if to say to touch you more. Instead, he lifted his fingers to his lips, running them along his tongue and savoring the sweet delicious taste of you. 

“Steven,” you whined. “Fuck me. Please.” You couldn’t handle his teasing anymore.

He rubbed the tip along your folds before finding your entrance. When he did, he thrust his entire length into you, having prepared you enough beforehand to do so with ease. His eyebrows shot up at the sensation of your cunt fluttering around his cock in response, never having felt anything like this before. He pulled back, to the edge, and then pushed into you again, forcing a breathless moan from your sweet lips. Steven leaned over and kissed you tenderly, delicately entangling his tongue with yours.

He remembered that you weren’t on birth control, and that he wasn’t wearing a condom. Fuck. He thrusted again into you, deep, hard. He had to remember to pull out, no matter how good it felt, he couldn’t risk getting you pregnant. Ohh, shit. Another hard thrust. Closing his eyes, he tried to control his breathing to steady himself. Steven imagined what you would look like though, filled with his spend, pregnant with his baby. Another deep thrust, and then…oh no!

When he spent restless nights palming his own release, it never happened this fast. He never came in such a short time, but here he was, breathing heavily in whimpering moans while he filled you up with ropes of cum. His face turned hot, and yet somehow his palms went cold. He just came inside of you, he just filled you to the brim with his spend.

“S-Steven did you just…” You looked at his face and then down between your legs. His cock was still inside of you, still pulsating. “Did you just come inside me?”

“I…I didn’t know it would happen so fast, I’m so sorry. I was just thinking about it, about how good it felt and…oh f-”

“No, erm, no it’s actually…it’s actually fine.” You said, much to his surprise.

In truth, you weren’t as upset as you should be. You might actually get pregnant, and while the thought was a little scary, you knew Steven wasn’t like other guys. He was different, kind and caring. The fact that he was so quick to come inside of you was honestly rather…hot.

“I just couldn’t help it, I’m s-sorry.” His mouth offered apology after apology, while his hips were slowly but noisily pushing his cum back into you.

He chanced a look down and groaned, “Wow, look at that, love.”

Steven was watching himself push his spend back into you with his cock, his movements not catching on anything thanks to his load. The muscles in his abdomen were twitching a little from the oversensitivity, but it quickly passed. Seeing his cum spilling out of your hole around his cock inspired his erection to stiffen once again. He loved seeing it go back inside of you, keeping you full, making you take his seed again and again. 

“Can I, love, please?” His hooded eyes trained on you were so desperate, so needy. “Please, give me one more, just one more.” He breathed.

Despite your better judgment, you couldn’t say no to Steven. You were certain at this point that he was the love of your life, even after only a couple of months. You couldn’t help but give it to him, you’d give him anything, especially when he asked so nicely.

Placing your hand on his cheek, you nodded, “Okay, baby.”

Kissing your palm before plunging forward, he tilted your hips up as he thrust into you, hitting you deeper than before. You let out a sound somewhere between a shriek and a groan as you grip onto the sheets for stability. He was pounding into you, fucking his cum deeper inside with every powerful thrust. 

He let go of your hips and fell forward on his elbows, hovering over you. He mouthed at your breasts, flicking your nipple with his tongue. While his lips were busy on one side, his hand was teasing at the other, your nerves alight with pleasure. You were in complete ecstasy. Steven may have been a virgin not ten minutes ago, but he fucked you into the mattress like he’d been doing it for ages, hitting all the right spots. 

“Fuck, Steven, you’re s-so good.” You said through your cacophony of moans.

He sat back up, and grabbed the backs of your knees, pushing them down and testing your flexibility. Steven was bending you in half, your knees went up nearly to your head as the new angle made you see stars. He was fucking you good and deep now, you swore you felt him in your lungs. Skin slapping against skin, he rammed into you as though he were trying to win a race. You were nearly screaming now, feeling yourself reaching that sweet, mind-numbing climax you’d been chasing since he kissed you on the couch earlier in the evening.

When people talk about the big O moment, this is what they imagine. Bone shattering convulsions that turn your brain into nothing but a pile of mush in your head. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull while your cunt gushed over Steven’s cock. You’d never felt anything like it, and when he dropped your knees, you felt them shaking in an effort to keep your legs spread.

“There you go, love.”

Steven sounded proud of himself for making you come so hard, and he should feel proud. He looked down at his cock sliding in and out of you. There was a ring of white around the girth of it as he just kept fucking you through your flutters.

“Look at that, that’s new, innit?” He’d never seen that before, not in any of the movies he’d watched at least. “Didn’t know you could do that, sweetie.”

You couldn’t even speak anymore to try and figure out what he was talking about. He had erased your vocabulary completely. You responded with a pathetic groan, attempting to agree with him. He was still enjoying the view, eyes fixated on watching his own spend trickling out of you, now mixed with the mess you’d created. He was certain he put a baby in you, and if he hadn’t, he surely was about to. Just thinking about filling you up again hardened his cock to a point of agony for him, twitching inside you.

“Mmm, I’m right-ahh, right there…I’m gonna-” His words were cut off by his groan of satisfaction, pulled from him from the sheer force of his orgasm.

Steven was shooting into you again, filling you beyond your threshold and he began spilling out the sides, but he didn’t stop fucking it into you until he was completely empty. After some time, he pulled out and found himself transfixed with the way his cum dripped out of you and onto the sheets.

“Well, that’s pretty, innit? Look at you, all full like that, sweetie. How pretty.” He was positively beaming. A bit of drool threatened to drip out of his open mouth. Wiping it away quickly, he asked “Is it okay if I-? Oh sorry, sorry, but I can’t just leave you like this, can I?”

You were stuck staring at his face, brows furrowed, unable to believe what he was suggesting. Was he aware of how his words were affecting you? Was he saying…did he mean…oh my days, you thought while he leaned forward to lap at your dripping folds. The obscene sound of him slurping at both your juices and his was strangely intoxicating.

Steven didn’t know what came over him, but he was so drunk off pleasure that he wanted to taste you, and he wanted to taste himself coming out of you. And oh, you tasted so good. He reached a finger inside, drawing out globs of white and drinking it down. He pushed in a second finger and heard you whine under his touch from the sensitivity.

His tongue flicked over your clit, forcing you to arch your back and angle your hips toward his face. You couldn’t get enough of him, you couldn’t get enough of the meek and innocent gift shoppist Steven Grant. Even though you had dreamed of sharing this with him for a while, never did you expect this. This surpassed anything you could have imagined, his eyes carried a crazed look that you couldn’t have expected from him. Both of his digits fucked into you while he ate your pussy like a meal he’d been craving. His fingertips drew upward as though they were beckoning your orgasm forward.

“Oh shit, Steven- Ahhh,” You used one hand to grip the sheets desperately, and the other tangled into his messy curls of their own volition.

When he moaned against you, the vibration sent your head back. After the last one, you didn’t think you could handle another orgasm. In fact, you’d been positive he wouldn’t be able to get it out of you, but you were getting closer, in spite of the sensitivity. When you thought about the fact that Steven had not only filled you once, but twice in the same night, you realized that you may have your own kink that you didn’t realize. The idea of it made your cunt flutter over his fingers. You wanted him to fill you up again.

You came again, your knuckles ached with the grip you held over the sheets. You were certain the neighbors would be having a word with Steven in the morning, but he didn’t seem to care, and honestly, neither did you. Your mind went blank while your cunt squeezed the life from his fingers with every wave of pleasure that flowed through you. Steven ate that up too without hesitation.

He climbed back over you and kissed you before collapsing on the bed at your side. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, tucking his face into the nape of your neck and nuzzled into you. His breathing was rapidly evening out, the air huffing against your neck hotly. Your body melted into his, relaxed and sated, safe in the arms of your beau. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Steven.” You said, breathlessly, not quite believing the last hour.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love.” He mumbled into your skin before promptly falling asleep.

AO3 LINK

TAGLIST (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed): @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, @my-secret-shame, @thatmomwitchfriend, @alexxavicry, @welcometostayingawake, @jake-g-lockley, @campingwiththecharmings, @steven-grants-world, @lia275, @minigirl87, @ahookedheroespureheart, @ninebluehearts

[foxilayde]

The Stranger Part 2/2 Jack from Mojave x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Dark themes, DARK. CHASING, NONCON SMUT

Summary: 100 second head start in a game of chase. Is it enough time to get away? Probably not.

A/N: I hope this is what you nasty bitches wanted lmao enjoy I love you guys.

How many seconds do you have left? 70? 60? Who is to say he’s even honoring that time frame, he’s probably already kicking dust behind you and the only reason you can’t hear him is because of the blood pumping in your ears and your wild breathing. This is what it’s like to be a jackrabbit, bounding in the bush from the snapping teeth of a coyote. Luckily the moon is bright enough that your footfalls avoid large things like the prickly brush and snake holes. 

Fuck, you should have known better, should have known that everything comes alive at night in the desert with all its nocturnal-eyed creatures, the prowlers and the dwellers. Big fucking mistake going out here alone, the biggest of your life, and the last one you’ll ever get to make. Well that and the mistake you make when your heel lands on a piece of pointed quartz or granite and at the last second you swallow your scream and attempt to run though it, to push past the searing pain in your heel and the twist in your ankle. Fuuuuuck. You have your boots in your arms but when (if ever) is a good time to put them on? When exactly will you have sufficient space between you and Jack when you can feel free to take a moment to lace up? Not now. Definitely not now.

You think it’s a trick of the moonlight when you see the cave in the split of the hill. The hill looks familiar, but so does everything. That’s the thing about the raw desert of the Mojave. It all looks the same. No landmarks to go by, just moderate hill after moderate hill of even sparsity and plant species. You weren’t quick enough to clock the position of the moon or the stars when you took off running. You went forward, but forward can turn to the side and the side can turn into a full circle and a full circle can turn into a spiral, especially if you have a tendency to keep veering right at every tumbleweed. 

You head for the cave anyway because at the very least, it’s shade when the sun rises, it’s a place to put your boots on, maybe to check if you have a compass on you so you can start plotting a real way out of here instead of running with your eyes on the sides of your head right into the path of a semi. 

The cave is deep enough and tall enough that you stand up fully the whole way into the dark recess of it. It’s not the sort of prey stronghold that would suit any creature of the Mojave so there isn’t any fear of running into anything when you turn at the end and slouch down. You should have pulled out your flashlight from your pack while you were still in the moonlight. It’s going to be much harder to find it like this in the solid black of the back of the cave but you don’t care. You need to rest, you need a gulp of water, and you need to put your shoes on. All of which you manage to do relatively well, and in your hiking boots you feel much calmer already, with your ankles secure and the warm compression of your socks. 

You pull from your half filled canteen, spilling some water down your chin and you wonder when your next drink of water will be. Where it will come from. This bottle isn’t enough to last you more than one or two days in the Mojave before you start to get sick with heat. You’re more careful with your next sips. 

You dig around your backpack to feel for either your flashlight or for your compass, the latter of which you finally get and shove into the pocket of your sweats. You hear a little rustling deeper in the cave and the thought suddenly sickens you that Jack has been sitting in the cave with you the whole time, in the absolute darkness, listening to you gulp water and wrap your ankle, your cursing and breathing, rustling around to find your things… just waiting in the dark. For what? For you to find your flashlight and turn it on his face? Just to scare you? You don’t know him well but he does seem to be one for theatrics. 

Your heart speeds up and your stomach drops, your imagination is picturing him right next to you in the blackness, the hairs in your ear prickle with trying to pick up any hint of his breathing nearby, and your mind tricks itself into thinking that he is there. You don’t know if you should leave, or wait it, out or find your flashlight and shine it into the darkness to know for sure. One thing is for sure, is that if he IS in this cave with you, he’s not going to let you leave, so you have to be smart about your exit. You can’t let him know you’re onto him, that you’re going to jump out of here quick as lightning. So you make a big show about sighing and fake leaning back against the wall of the cave, you pretend to stretch when you’re really getting into position to bolt out. Fuck, how exactly are you going to do this, really do this, really outrun the coyote himself, in the dark, especially with your fucking ankle?

You’re stalling and if he has any good predatory senses, which you know he does, he’s onto the plan and each second you waste debating and faking getting comfortable in the cave. He can probably hear the way your heart thuds like jackrabbits legs. With his glittering nocturnal eyes, can he see the way your eyes dilate and fail to focus on anything for lack of light and reference? Is it real or is your mind playing tricks with you in the dark? 

You swear you feel the heat of his breath on your neck when you finally push off the cave floor and make your hasty exit out, your clumsy feet slipping on the loose rock of the mouth of the cave, you brace yourself surprisingly well on your hands and run on all fours for several beats before righting yourself and taking satisfying shoed-footfalls down the ravine. You’re hardly ‘running’ at all, the gravity of the downslope doing all the distance-making for you. You aren’t careful the way you would be on a hike like this; taking it heel-toe-heel toe. No you’re side sliding at this point. Paces between yourself and the cave being the prime directive and in your haste the side of your boot catches only dust on your compromised ankle, sending you rolling down the dusty surface. Your eyes are full of dirt, your hair snags painfully on a brush and you’re blindly reaching and scrambling for something to cling to on your decent, fingers digging into tumbling thin gravel when the sliding mercifully stops. 

You wipe your tear tracked eyes on your sleeves and hoist yourself up on all battered fours, spitting out grains of sand. You think you smell water, hear the rushing of water. But it could very well be the smell of blood in your mouth and the rushing of it in your ears. The mind plays tricks on you at night. An oasis would be too much to hope for. 

You rise to your feet and brush the dirt from your sleeping clothes, sighing and groaning heavily you sit back on your heels. There is water, the rushing water of a small Oasis but you can hardly appreciate the glittering blackness of it when a long knife makes contact with your gritty, sweaty neck.

It makes your blood run cold despite the dark resinous heat of the night and Jack’s arm comes to wrap around your chest, pinning your arms (not that you’d struggle to move anyway with the promise of the blade at the pulsing life of you). 

“That was quite a show, sister, quite a fucking show.” You’re wrapped within the wings of his coat, nowhere to run. Even if you were to escape it’s only up up up in all directions here at the bottom of everything, where the water rushes, where you’ll never be found. Your lip quivers and and you tremble in his grasp.

“Gotta hand it to ya sister, lasted a lot longer than I thought you would.” He pushes you down then, your face to the side in the dirt, a knee on on each of your hamstrings, hands pinned behind your back. 

“What I don’t understand though, and maybe you can help me out with this, is why…” he uses his knife to cut a line up the back of your long sleeve shirt, exposing your bare back to the moonlight. “Why you took off out of that hidey-hole like a bat outta hell, hmmm?” He grabs your hair to pull your neck up, sliding his nose on the side of your cheek. “Something spook you in there?”

You choke on a sob when he kisses your cheek, “what was it, little sister. Answer me.”

“You.”

“Me? I was watchin the mouth of the cave from the ridge. Couldn’t’ve been me what spooked ya … oh wait… we’re you thinkin’ about ol’ Jack in that cave, sister? Wanting me in there all nice n’ cosy with you?”

If he is telling the truth, which you have no reason to believe he’s not, then it was all imagined, it was all in your fickle mind, seeing images in the absolute darkness, phantom breaths and threats. 

“Welp little sister. As fun as this chase has been, and believe me, it has been quite the diversion, I believe its come to judgement day, wouldn’t ya say?” 

Judgement day. Fucking death. All of that all of that scraping and clawing, running and hiding, only to be back at square one. You might as well be back at your campsite, shorn sleeping bag at your legs, forfeiting the hundred second challenge and letting him slit your neck like he’s done to your bag, to your shirt. What’s the difference if your blood spills here or there? Besides a more concise murder investigation.  

His knees continue to press into the backs of your thighs and he drags the cool metal of his blade up and down your exposed spine. 

“You don’t have to kill me.” You offer weakly.

“What was that, bright angel? Didn’t catch that.”

“You… you don’t have to kill me. Don’t you wan’t to keep playing?’

“Playing, you say? We did play. You lost. You don’t want to be a sore loser now, do you little sister?”

“What about a best two out of three?”

You aren’t thinking clearly, everything coming out of your mouth is an instinctual bargain to keep yourself alive for a precious few more moments, seeking this predator’s motivation. He said he liked the diversion, didn’t he? He must be bored out here in the desert by himself. If only you could prove yourself useful to him, to his entertainment. 

“Two outta three, huh?” This knife leaves your back and you can hear the way he scratches the stubble of his sharp jaw behind you. “I’m listening.”

“You don’t want to kill me.”

“Bold assumption, girlie, bold. Lets not forget who holds all the cards here. Bargaining 101? You’re gonna have to give me something I don’t got.”

Is this what he’s been angling for this whole time then? Has he been waiting to offer your flesh up to the buzzard on a silver platter. You hope that’s the case because that is a hand you posess, you can play that. But you’ll have to play it well. 

“A-are those the Deep Creek hot springs over there?” 

Jack growls a laugh, “Sharp eye, little sister. So you did get your little hands on a topographical before settin’ sail. That they are, that they are.” 

The little river flows only a few meters away and you start to form your plan. You lick the dirt and sweat from your lips and lower your voice as seductively as you can. “Let me wash off in that hot spring and i’ll… I’ll let you fuck me.”

Jack barks a laugh that brays to the moon. “Let me? You’ll let me? What hospitality, little sister.”

“Please, Jack.” You whisper into the dirt. He pauses a few more moments, dragging the blade up and down your spine again in a cold steel power move. “You wanna chase me? Into the springs? I can put up a fight if you want…” 

The offer hangs between you in a tempting shroud, you don’t know what’s going through his mind when he shifts his knees off of your legs and pulls the sweats and panties down from your ass and down to your knees, he glides the flat end of his blade lightly over the folds of your exposed pussy, bringing the blade up to his tongue to lick the frightened slick off the metal. 

“Mmmm, take your boots off. Go on, now. Get up, take those boots off, sister. I’m inclined to indulge in your little request.” 

You get to a seated position as quickly as you can, unlacing your hastily-tied boots and shoving them off along with your sweats and panties. Your shorn sleep shirt falls easily from your arms and you tentatively rise to stand, wobbling a bit on your twisted ankle, using his shoulder to right yourself.

“Providing you don’t try any funny business, you hear?”

You gulp and nod, hiding your chest instinctively behind shivering arms. 

He rises and licks his lips, scanning you up and down, tilting his hat up in a not so southern gentlemanly fashion.

“You want a head start, sister? ‘Fore I catch you?” His knife is dangling limply in his hand, he drops it in the dirt but holds his stare on you as he unlaces his boots, kicking them off along with his pants, duster and hat. In no time he’s down to nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs and the bandana. He shifts his arms back in a swimmer’s stretch and cracks his neck side to side.

“Maybe just… just ten seconds head start?”

“Smart girl. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Everything the moonlight touches is mine. Includin’ that pretty rump of yours.”

You’re under no supposition that you’ll be able to fight this man off and as he counts “One, two, better skiddle de do darlin’, three—“  You rush into the cold water, sloshing and making your way to the natural heated stone pools just a few strokes away. The oasis is teeming with life and you feel the little fish graze your legs as you splash and hoist yourself into the hot spring bath. Moments later you hear Jack splash and swim with tenacity, and soon, much too soon, he grabs your ankle. You squeal and kick his chest, which only makes him grab harder, using your leg as leverage to climb into the hot pool with you. 

The warm volcanic water feels like heaven on your muscles and you sigh into the natural stone bench of the pool. It feels very much like a man-made hot tub and Jack splashes in. He ducks his head under water and wipes the water from his face when he emerges. A distinct and instinctual part of you scans him, appreciating his fine muscular form. If he wasn’t such a blood thirsty desert dweller, he’d do well enough on his own to ensnare women with more reputable means. But he isn’t, so he ducks his face halway under water and grabs your leg again, wrapping it around his thick waist. Your breath speeds up a tick. 

“Fair and square, babydoll, fair and square two outta three.” He picks up your other leg and wraps it around his waist. “You gonna give me a congratulatory kiss? Or you gonna make me take that from you too?” He presses his bandana-clad forehead to yours.

Your shaking hand comes up to grip him gently behind his neck and draw his face close to yours, the moment your lips meet he’s licking into your mouth deeply, as if to drink the precious water from your lips. The water sloshes gently around the both of you and his hands come to grab your naked hips. It’s… not so bad, it’s nice even, with the warm water… he’s a good kisser for a bloodthirsty fuck, and he draws your hips closer, your pussy meeting his hard cock through the boxer briefs. 

Both of his hands travel up your waist in tandem, over your ribcage, hot palms resting on the sides of your tits, he thumbs your nipples causing you to draw his mouth even closer to yours, licking into the smoky hotness of his mouth. He flicks your nipples with his thumbs and grinds deeply into the open and needy center of you. The spring bubbles with tiny streams of heat around you and you use your feet to push down his boxer briefs, releasing his predatory heat from the confines of the fabric. He groans loudly into your mouth, forcing you you suck up the hot dirty expletives into your own. His pushing hips notch his hardness at the core of you and he presses in with tight interference. His cock pushes through your tense fear, fucking you more and more open with every thrust of his hips until he is fully seated in you, until his snapping pelvis makes solid fucking contact with the junction of you, and you cry into his mouth from the stretch of him.

“Ah! Mother always taught me not to play with my food, but in this case, I’ll have to make an exception.”

His arms snake around your waist and using the leverage of the spa floor he fucks up into your needy cunt, rubbing hot and hard at the apex of your pleasure. The water sloshes around you and you can taste the faint sulfuric presence between your lips when you continue to lick into his mouth, using both hands now on his cheeks to keep him there, rubbing his tongue with your own. 

Fuck, he’s so big everywhere, inside of you, around you, his figure blocks out the moon and you screw your eyes shut anyway.

You can’t be bothered to care how technically wrong it is to give and receive pleasure from this man who wanted to kill you, who his now licking into your whining mouth and fucking into your wet hole. He rubs so well against your cunt that you’re almost sorry to admit he’s going to make you cum, and soon. 

You break the kiss with a moan and bite your bottom lip when you convulse on his bare cock, fuck knows where it’s been, fuck cares. Your body achieves an equilibrium with the warmth of the springs when you cum, perfectly matching the heat of your skin. Your fingernails dig into his back and his thrusts speed up.

“Gonna fill you up sister.” He pants and smirks just out of reach of your lips.

“No, please.” No, he can’t. You’re not on anything, you can’t let him— you break his sloppy kiss and use your hands to push his hips away to no avail, you squirm your hips, but he’s got you painfully pressed against the natural stone and he laughs with a coldness unbefitting the hot spring and the hot air.

“Wasn’t up for debate, princess.” He licks the side of your face before burying his nose in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, oh fuck, here it comes, take it all, ohhh yesss. Yess, sister thats right.” Jack shivers, throws his head back and pumps hot into your tightly pressed body as you continue to shove his thighs with your feet to no avail. 

He goes slack and your final kick to his thigh sends him stumbling back. For a heart stoping moment you think he’ll retaliate but he just ducks under the water once again, emerging to wipe his face and throw back his hair. He puffs out his chest and howls to the moon then, a sound that chills your overheated bones. 

“Mighty fine chase, little sister. Best I’ve had in a long time.” He goes to tuck a wet lock behind your ear and you flinch from the contact. “Gettin’ shy on me now? Gettin shy on ol’ Jacky when you got my seed in your little belly? Nuh uh, none o’ that.” 

You drop your shoulders in defeat and close your eyes as a tear trickles down your cheek. 

“What are you going to do with me?” Your voice cracks feebly, realizing he’s had his fun and has no need for you now. There’s so many places to hide your body and you’re so far from your site it’s unlikely any recognizable part of you will ever be found. 

Jack climbs out of the pool and wrings out his sopping boxer briefs on the stony dirt patch on the side of the spring, stepping back into the soaking fabric, tucking his limp cock into the them with a groan.

“Well, I did have my heart set on slitting that pretty little neck of yours, full transparency sister, full transparency.”

You choke on a sob.

“But.” Your heart lifts. “Circumstances change, don’t they? Yessir. God help me, you look so pretty all fucked out and full of me, don’t you?” He bites his bottom lip and grabs your upper arm to hoist you out of the spring. The water sluices down your naked body and the rivuleting water glimmers in the moonlight. You stumble on your twisted ankle, using his bare shoulders to steady you.

“Choice is yours, little sister. I can cut your pretty neck right here, leave a feast for the buzzards… I can let you stumble back to your empty campsite all on your lonesome, or you can come home with me, choice is yours.”

Before you can think or answer he grips your chin between his palm. “Now, full transparency, like I said, I wouldn’t recommend option two, on account of I will be taking your clothes.” He gestures to the bank where your clothes lay. “Those are mine now; you’ll have no water, no way to find your way back. You’ll be dead by noon, garun fucking tee. Shit, if you pick option two I’d probably do you a mercy and just slit your fucking throat regardless.”

He’s right. There’s no way you’d survive without him, not that he’d leave you any loophole of staying at the spring to circumnavigate his stipulation; that you make your way back to your campsite. There’s only one option. 

“I’ll… go home with you?”

“Smart girl.”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Like I said. Smart. Girl.” His teeth glint in the moonlight and he pats your cheek condescendingly before gesturing to your ankle with a nod of his head. “Can you walk on that thing or is ol’ Jacky going to have to assist?”

You hold your chin up high despite your nakedness and your vulnerable state. “I can walk.”

His only reply is a grin before he turns around, back to the direction of your scattered clothes. He pats his naked thigh and whistles at you like a dog to follow. Which you do. 

END

tagging if you interacted with pt.1

@andromeda-dear @muunliight @lovely-cryptid @ophelialoveshandsomemen @bear-na-leabharlainne @theoddballinyourcloset @sharin4readers @h0unds-of-h3ll

[wg12349876]

huge fuckin shout out to steven grant who learnt that he has DID, was being used by an egyptian god, that said god is kind of a bitch to him, had a brother, that his brother died, had an abusive mother, that his mother also died, got fired from his job, lost the chance to progress to his dream job, got stood up on a date he was genuinely looking forward to with a girl he really liked and lost his pet goldfish all in the space of what? a few days?? a week at most??? and still somehow managed to keep it somewhat all together. i lose my phone on my bedsheets and it’s all over for me lol

[onscreenkisses]

ANNIHILATION, dir. Alex Garland (2018)

[ladyhistory]

Me entering any museum: man I’m so excited to learn all the things

Also me: GIFT SHOP GIFT SHOP GIFT SHOP

[wandering-elf]

There are two dragons inside of you. One hoards knowledge and the other hoards trinkets. They’re both very excited when you bring them to a museum

[yeahiwasintheshit]

[freelancearsonist]

hey guys 🥺🥺

i really fucking hate doing this but i need to make $300 by tomorrow so i can put a deposit down on a new apartment or else i’m going to be homeless 🫤

please please PLEASE if you can, consider donating to my ko-fi (you can commission me through ko-fi as well!!) or peruse my wares on etsy, it would help me SO much 🥺👉👈

and feel free to signal boost if you can!!! i would really appreciate all the help i can get 🥹

[bensolosbluesaber]

The Jake Problem - Part 2 (Jake Lockley x f!reader smut) 18+

Summary: There’s a lot of good ways to tell someone you love them for the first time… and then there’s whatever Jake Lockley is doing. (A sequel to the Jake Problem Part 1, but could be a stand alone too.)

Fluff, smut, angst??

Pairing: Jake Lockley x f!reader, hints of Marc Spector x f!reader x Steven Grant

Warnings: Mentions of abusive relationships, reader was in an abusive relationship, smut (18+ only), fingering, unprotected p in v (use protection), standard Jake Lockley warnings, marking (???), DID, Google translate Spanish, Jake’s not as kinky as he is in some fics, love that Jake but my version is a little softer, is this in character? idk

A/N: I’m so nervous. The pressure to write a sequel to something you guys love so much is unreal, but I’m so glad you enjoyed it! I haven’t written much smut before, so I’m genuinely unsure of how this turned out. But I want to give it a try, and still include my usual cuddly softness and some plot. If it flops, I’m deleting this and pretending it never existed. Second, I don’t speak Spanish at all, so this is Google translate Spanish though I did do some research to hopefully add some authenticity.

—–

The thought comes to him as he watches you wander the flat one morning in nothing, literally nothing, but one of his button down shirts. Jake loves you. In the few weeks since what he, Marc, and Steven had deemed the pizza incident, Jake had fallen completely and desperately in love with you. Your notes got tucked into his visor each morning. He eats any food you make him. Once he even made a sorry attempt at cooking for you, much to Marc’s amusement.

But he hadn’t told you he loved you, hadn’t even admitted it to himself really. Not until today.

Keep reading

[darkpromptsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty and Dark Prompts

Previously used for my Mystery Prompt Requests (likely to be incorporated into my kinktober). Open to use with credit to this blog.

“I love the way you shake… it turns me on.”

“I promise, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“You don’t have to say a word, your eyes say it all.”

“I don’t… I don’t have the money for that.”

“Hold your breath, bite your tongue, close your eyes. Do whatever you need to get through it.”

“It hurts.” “I know.”

“I’ve never heard anything better than the way you cry out my name.”

“Tell me you want more. I feel your cunt begging me.”

“I did what you told me to. What else do you want?”

“You don’t leave this bed until you’ve earned it.”

“You got me so hard right now in that skirt…”

“Give me your panties.”

“What did you put in this?”

“I know he’s watching us, I hope he likes what he sees.”

“I can’t hear a word you’re saying, I just keep thinking about how good that mouth feels.”

“I can’t sleep if I’m not inside you.”

“You have everything you need; me.”

“You expect me to get any work done with you wearing that?”

“‘No’? You’re such a bad liar.”

“You want me to pull out, ask me nice and I’ll cum in your mouth.”

“Stay… that’s an order.”

“I said stay the night, I didn’t say anything about sleep.”

“I don’t care who hears, I want everyone to hear what I do to you.”

“Sit in my lap like a good girl.”

“I’m gonna be your first and your last.”

“You don’t get to cum if you can’t ask nicely.”

“If you’re not naked by the time I’m back…”

“Wouldn’t it be hot if he found you like this?”

“I like watching him fuck you.”

“If you cum, you lose.”

“You can bite me. I like it.”

“This isn’t over. Not even close.”

“Good girls get on their knees.”

“Every time I see you, I can’t help but see myself inside of you.”

“What I like most about you is my hands around your neck.”

“You don’t want me? Don’t lie to me.”

“If you want to act like a slut, you can dress like one.”

“That ass is highly unprofessional.”

“I love the way you let me use you. Like a pretty little doll.”

“Your turn. Touch me.”

“I love that look. It gets me so hot.

“You think you hate me, but you really hate yourself because you liked it.”

“Shhh, we have to be quiet.”

“Smile nice and pretty for me.”

“Don’t be stupid, I don’t do favours.”

“I want you to make our guest(s) at home.”

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

“We just went over the rules.”

“You need help with that mouth of yours.”

“I thought you left.”

[foxilayde]

Would you ever write something for jack from mojave 🥺👉❤👈 he's my guilty pleasure...

If you have time, would you share any nsfw thoughts to leave us with?

The Stranger [Jack from Mojave x Fem!Reader]

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: Uhhhh.... I mean it's Jack from Mojave, so... yeah.

A/N: Jack ain’t a guilty pleasure brother, he’s simply a pleasure.

There’s a hand around your ankle and it tugs you just hard enough to shake you from your slumber. You usually sleep so well camped out in the desert under the stars, never waking till morning usually. So it shocks you to see the dark blanket of night when you open your eyes. The fire you built earlier that evening is nothing but glowing coals now and the man crouched at the foot of your sleeping bag looks like a phantom in the red pulsing light. He’s got a long, thick knife in one dirty paw propped on his knee, the other grips your ankle and he’s grinning at you with a graveyard smile. 

Your scream catches in your throat and your bowels twist and sink when you realize that even if you were to scream, there’s no one around for at least four miles to hear your cries, and any sound you might make would be brushed off as a coyote or the like. There’s no one to save you. It’s just you and the stranger.

He’s dressed like a desert dweller. Long protective layers and calf-high lace-up boots tied halfway up his shins. He tilts his hat to you with his knife-hand and then removes it completely. His hair is long and matted like a wolf, tied round with a sweat-stained bandana. He tosses the leather hat over to where your backpack is, next to your small cooler and you eye your backpack with alertness. Your adrenaline has spiked and you know you have to make it to your sack and get your hatchet or blade or spray or anything if you have a chance of making it through the night. 

The stranger squeezes your ankle once more, to get your attention.

“Don’t go gettin’ any ideas, girlie.” He licks his bottom lip, revealing more of his ragged mouth. “Hold still now. Wanna show you somethin’.” 

Your eyes widen in panic as he lets go of your ankle and reaches into his large coat pocket to pull out your spray and knife. 

“This ain’t ol Jacky’s first rodeo, sister.” 

You gulp and scan your sparse campground for the hatchet and just as you do, he stows your defenses back in his coat and holds a finger up.

“Oh, almost forgot”. He reaches behind him, to the back of his belt, under the large overcoat and produces…. The fucking hatchet. 

He twirls the hatchet in his hand and points it at your nose, far too close, and you whimper. 

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a big bad desert like this, huh? Doin’ some soul searching are we? Did you just get your heart broke and now you’re eat, prary, lovin’ it out in the fucking Mojave?” 

You can’t find words, you’ve forgotten how to speak it seems, but The Stranger, or “Jacky” by his own naming, doesn’t seem to mind that you haven’t uttered a word. 

“Well, sister, I hate to break it to you, but there ain’t much to eat out here… sides the rare cacti and whatever the buzzards haven’t picked clean.” He chuckles and tucks the hatchet back into his belt loop and rises, he makes his way over to the fire, crouching to add a log from the pile, the flames lick up the dry wood quickly and the yellow glow makes his black eyes glitter and his skin look sickly. 

“And praying?” His mirthless laugh is trilling and smokey. “Ohhh, girlie, if you weren’t praying before? You should be now. Although, you know what they said about the son of God when he went out to the desert: daddy made him wander for forty days without a fucking how’s-it-going-pal.” 

Jack tosses on a second log and then makes his way back to his position at the foot of your sleeping bag once more. The sides of his coat fan out like buzzard’s wings in swift descent.

 “And then, at the end of that perilous walkabout, it wasn’t God that appeared to Jeshua, no ma’am. It was the devil.” 

Jack, it seems, cant help his grin. You are reminded of the pair of leering vultures from Snow White, and it’s obvious what character he’s cast himself as in this scenario. 

“As for the ‘love’ part of the journey, well. That remains to be seen, doesn’t it? Love can take all forms. For Jeshua it was charity… and for ol’ Jacky? It’s something more akin to ‘obligation’”.

Jack pulls your sleeping bag taut and you clutch the lip of it while he uses his knife to cut a seam up the middle, exposing your socked feet and sweat pants. He grabs the toe of one of your socks and pulls it off your foot oh so slowly. Once it’s off, he drops it to the dirt and snatches your heel in his rough palm. 

“No kicking, girlie. Or I’ll chop off these little piggies… one, by, one.” He pulls and wiggles each toe individually with every word. You try your best to hold still, brain and heart a flutter and a panic. “And trust me, you’re going to need these little piggies where you’re going, sister.” 

That’s a good sign, if he’s telling the truth. If you need your toes where you’re going, he can’t have plans to kill you just yet, right?

“Where… where am I going?” You croak out.

“She speaks! Oh, speak again bright angel!” 

Jack rubs your instep with his thumb and there’s nothing sweet about it, the caress, the Shakespeare, it’s all taunting and goading. The way a bull is riled up before a rodeo. 

“What are you going to do to me?” Your voice is soft and meek in a way that your biology must be dictating, knowing it’s the last line of defense against attack. Supplication. Meekness. An appeal to the monster’s better angels. If he possesses them. 

“Well, sister. That’s entirely up to two things.” His hand slides up under the ruched elastic of your sweatpants and he drags his filthy fingers up and down your quaking calf. “How smart you are, and how quick you can run.” 

“How quick I can run?”

“That’s what I said, mynah birdie.” He squeezes your calf and bends over you, scooting his knees to cage your fragile legs. Your bones are hollow and your mouth is as dry as your surroundings. 

“Ol' Jacky doesn’t make a habit out of making wagers or killing pretty women. But I figure, in this case, two wrongs can make a right.” 

He scoots back and raises himself up from his haunches, pointing his knife down at you. 

“What’s going to happen is, I’m going to shut my ojos and count to a hundred. You understand?”

You nod. He bends over you and drags his cool blade, flat-side against your cheek. 

“It’s like hide and go seek. Sister hides. Brother seeks.” His breath is hot and musky, you’re tilting your head back as far back as you can from his shining blade and sharp smile. You nod. A hundred second head start is better than the position you’re in now, burrito-d up in a half shorn sleeping bag with him above you. 

“One, two, three, you better get to steppin’, four—“

Oh fuck, oh fuck, he’s already started. You twist over into a crawl, kicking the shredded bag off your legs, you get a face full of dirt before you’re able to stand and waste ten more precious seconds grabbing your water, pack, and boots. No time to put them on, not here. You sprint as fast as you can through the prickling terrain, over the crest of a sparsely shrubbed hill. Your eyes are on the ground, careful not to fell your feet on anything that might slow you down and his howl at your back in the night is like a coyote gaining speed, “see you real soon, sister!” 

[muunliight]

[poppyseed-art]

Based on this post by @incorrect-moon-knight!

[bookished]

“I didn’t think you were the type to lose your sanity for a girl.” “I didn’t either.”

“Why aren’t you dating him?” “Because I’d destroy him.” “He’d be into that.

“I prefer it when reporters aren’t flirting with my teammates, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“Do we need wine?” “No, I need wine, you need to put your pants back on.” “But life is so freeing without them.” “Pants. On. Now.”

“You’re speeding!” “I acknowledged sign’s recommendation.” “You’re going 30 miles over!”

“Is that a dead body?” “Maybe?” “It is. I can see it right in front of me.” “I promise I’ll clean it up before dinner!”

“She accused me of stealing her clients.” “Did you?” “Of course I did.”

“You’re not my favorite person today.” “I’m not your favorite person on any day.”

“When someone gives you the ‘don’t pull your gun out of the back of your pants’ nod, don’t pull your gun out of the back of your pants!”

“How many people did you tell?” “Basically everyone.”

“If we’re in some alternate universe where you’re not a jerk, how soon before we can leave it?”

“How are you feeling?” “I think you broke my fingers.” “Better your fingers than your face.”

“Oh, you’re still alive.” “Don’t sound so disappointed, I might think you don’t like me.”

“Since when do you not know where your cups are?” “Since my neighbor got bored and reorganized my kitchen.”

“Can you please go be stupid somewhere that’s away from me?”

“What are you so afraid of?” “You.”

“It’s a good thing you’re cute when you’re angry.”

“Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” “Yes.” “What if I just break his nose a little?”

“That’s disgusting. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

[muunliight]

My absolute worst quality is thinking that Jack from Mojave is so fucking funny like fr my sense of humor is FUCKED

[nathsketch]

Those curls! Those coats! The number of times that I’ve watched this film in the past few days should now be a cause of concern for most people… BUT I’ve managed to get work done somehow. Come to think of it, I’m not entirely sure how 😂

I mean, these curls! Did I mention the curls?? 

[buckypascal]

Oscar Isaac + facial hair

↳ happy birthday @phyllisclichesforarainyday

[foxilayde]

I Yield [Duke Leto Atreides x Fem!Reader]

YOU DO NOT NEED TO KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT DUNE TO READ THIS STORY. IT IS SIMPLY A FEVER DREAM BROUGHT ON BY OSCAR ISACC IN THE MOON KNIGHT TRAINING VIDEO. Did you watch that video and think, “yes god please fucking destroy me”? Then this is the fic for you. Simply using Duke Leto as the canvas on which to project my whoredoms. Don’t @ me, Dune fans. 

Summary: You spar with Duke Leto. Nastiness ensues. 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 9.2k (there is not enough plot to justify it being this long I do apologize)

Warnings: Fighting, mild degradation, explicit sexual acts performed by consenting adults. 

Dedicated to: @propertyofabelmorales for saying “Imagine sparring with Leto”. And also to @paper-n-ashes who made me this beautiful moodboard. Look at the COLORS

And I made THIS very literal, blurry and not as cute, moodboard. So now you bitches get TWO moodboards. 

But the real visual we want is….

[gif by @scimitar-and-longsword​]

(also, I tagged a bunch of you heathens at the bottom. If you don’t wanna read it, feel free to ignore)

ENJOY!

You’re not sneaking around, even if it feels like it right now. That feeling when you’re in someone else’s home alone. Like you’re intruding. It’s been serval months now that you’ve lived at the palace, lived on this planet, for that matter, and it had yet to feel like home. Your decadent quarters had yet to feel like yours, the blankets of your large bed were still a ways off from becoming familiar. The solitude of the morning was the only thing that felt like your old life on Caladan. Preferring the early hours of the day to yourself. No companion or conversation… well, just one companion, one recent exception. But he wasn’t much conversation.

You would have put on shoes, but what’s the point to walk 3 measly corridors? You’d be there for twenty or thirty minutes, get what you needed, and then go right back to bed, to your strange sheets, to take care of yourself. Like every morning this week and every morning of the week before. 

The heels of your bare feet make no sound on the granite floor. The halls of the Artreides palace are quiet and imposing, much like their owner. You don’t expect to run into anyone, and you don’t, same as it has been every day this week… and the week before…  you could make the walk to the gymnasium in your sleep, but you are grateful for the seemingly endless line of flickering torches that light your way in the windowless fortress. 

Your feet stop in front of the double doors, your heart pounds wildly with anticipation despite this being a familiar destination, a routine meeting. Opening the doors, you hear him before you see him. The pounding of feet against the mat is unmistakeable, and you know that when you look over to the sparring ring, he’s going to be there, twisting and shadow boxing, warming up.

Keep reading

[foxilayde]

The Honorable Duke Duke Leto Atreides x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 9k words.18+ ONLY. Sex Pollen, some dub-con elements, mentions underage marriage, alcohol, smut, virgin!(18+)reader. I HAVE NOT READ DUNE, everything in here is based on the 11 seconds of Oscar Isaac in the trailer, lookin like a Daddy Snack. WHAT DOES THAT MEAN FOR YOU? it means, if you haven’t read Dune, you can still enjoy this fic! And if you had read Dune, give my horny ass a break and just go with it if it’s wrong. 

Summary: You, your sister and step mother visit Arrakis to meet Duke Leto Atreides. Your sister is set to marry the Duke, but you have other plans.

Dedication: I would like to dedicate this fic to @writefightandflightclub​, @supernovafeather​ and @propertyofabelmorales​ for the Daddy Dune inspiration.

You did not know before leaving your home planet, that Duke Leto Atreides would look… well, this good. 

Keep reading