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#molly writes
bigfootsmom · 1 day
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wip wednesday
tagged by the lovely @tizniz, @bidisasterevankinard <3 <3 <3
this week has sucked ass and it’s only wednesday. anyways, I was inspired by a post from @djdangerlove (I cannot find the original post im so sorry) about buck calling Tommy “Thomas” so here’s a little something from that:
“Do you want me to call you Buck?”
Evan’s nose scrunches up, lips pursing as he slits his eyes open to look at Tommy, slivers of electric blue in the dim light of the bedroom. “Mm–mm.” He snuffles into the pillow, sagging against the bed.
Tommy thinks that’s the end of the conversation, Evan finally passing over the threshold into sleep. But Evan mumbles something else, the sound of it soaked up by his pillow and too quiet for Tommy to hear.
“What?” Tommy asks with a quiet laugh.
Evan huffs, annoyed that his sleep keeps getting thwarted. But he turns his face, unburying it from the pillow.
“Like the way you say my name.”
tags <3
@usersiren, @honestlydarkprincess, @holdmygum, @swiftietartt, @bibuddie, @maygrantgf, @bisexual-buck, @princessfbi, @mellaithwen, @homerforsure, @housewifebuck, @colonoscopys, @boykisserbuckley, @shyaudacity, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @loveyouanyway, @try-set-me-on-fire, @loserdiaz, @monsterrae1, @giddyupbuck, @underwaterninja13, @father-salmon, @hoodie-buck, @devirnis, and you if you’re reading this!!!! (I’m sorry if you’ve already been tagged or I forgot an url, my brain is toasted)
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xwing-baby · 2 years
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Truth (Duke Leto Atreides x f!Reader)
you were sent to kill his son, the duke makes sure you know your place
18+ smut (dark violence, torture, injury to reader (burn), unprotected p in v sex, allusions to past abuse, angry hate sex)
context for movie people: Feyd-Rautha is Baron Harkonnen's other nephew, insane mf- can't wait too see him in part two
word count: 5.5k
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Paul Atreides was pleasant enough. He was handsome or, rather would become handsome within a few years. Of course, you were here to stop that. You watched him talk, words flying over your head as the men spoke around you. He was pleasant, not the threat presented to you by your uncle. You supposed that was half the reason he was such a threat; you would never see it coming. These Atreides were not like Harkonnens, brutish and brash; these men were eagle-eyed and sharp. Paul carried the air of a man with life behind him for someone so young. He spoke like a Duke; regality shone through his bright eyes. 
You were attending a dinner with the Atreides on behalf of your father, currently indisposed due to a tragic accident. That was the lie you had told the witch Jessica, which she had naively believed. The decoy spy had been placed and was quickly spotted by the witch and the Duke alike. Neither seemed to suspect you were anything but a loyal messenger for your father, the spice miner. 
While the witch believed you, you did not know about the Duke. He had watched you intently throughout the dinner; his sharp features and deep eyes had you transfixed. You had heard rumours about the man, hearing his cousin, your Baron, rant and rave about him through the walls of Harko palace. Maybe it was your inherited hatred for the man, but you could not look away from him. His attentions, though silent, made you both meeker and bolder. You were distracted by him but simultaneously more eager. Maybe to impress him. Show the Duke what you could do to his only heir, how you could best his nonexistent expectations of you.
Paul left while the drinks were being handed out after dinner. So not to cause suspicion, you continued the laborious conversation with the water-shipper before finally excusing yourself. You did not miss the watchful eye of Lady Jessica as you slipped from the room, stopping once to ask for the bathroom from a servant to give yourself an alibi if you were to fail. After all, it was so easy to get lost in a place like this. 
The servant directed you left. You walked around the corner before turning down another corridor to your desired location. This was not your first night in this place, and if your information had been correct, your target’s room was where your cousin Feyd had stayed when visiting the residency.
The building was more of a labyrinth than you had recalled. The memory of the last time you had stayed flashed before your eyes. Running, screaming, through these very halls. You were fairly sure if you looked close enough at the walls you passed, the trail of your own blood would still cling to the cracks in the cold stone.
“Miss, I fear you are lost,” A rumbling voice broke from the shadows. You stopped halfway up a small flight of stairs and watched a tall, muscular man approach from the crossing wall. You recognised him as Halleck, the soldier who sang at dinner. You smiled and feigned stupidity, widening your eyes in surprise.
“Oh really? It’s so hard to tell where you are in this place. Everything looks the same,” you laughed. Halleck’s hardened demeanour softened a little.
“You’re looking for the restroom?” He asked. You nodded, “You have gone too far; it’s just behind those pillars there,”
“Ah, thank you,” You stood still, a pleasant smile on your face hoping he would leave you.
“I shall take you there. This place is like a maze to those unaccustomed,”
“That would be wonderful, thank you,” You smiled. Halleck gestured forward politely.
“After you,”
You sighed, not yet defeated. You had noted three weapons concealed on the soldier’s person and the shield and comms he wore in his ear. You could overpower him but would risk exposing yourself or getting yourself killed. There were too many soldiers around to even attempt attacking him. You would have to resign yourself to a second try.
You walked down more stairs, more corridors, left and right. This was much further into the residence than you had ever been in your brief time here a few years ago.
“This is not the way to the bathroom,” you said,
“You know this place well, my lady?” He asked, a surprised twitch of his eyebrows told you, you had given far too much away with such a small statement.
“No, I’ve never been here before of course,” You recovered yourself, “I do not recognise this sculpture is all, I did not pass it my way,”
“I know my way do not worry,” He smiled
You shook it off. Back to the task at hand. You still had to shake the soldier and get to the boy.
Finally, you came to a stop, Halleck opened a large dark door, opening a small room. A fireplace too over the furthest wall, lit it and made the room glow orange. Danger. You stepped inside but immediately turned when the soldier did not follow.
“Wait here,” He ordered.
“Sir, I was not lying when I said I needed the bathroom,”
“Sit,” His tone became harsh. You sat in one of the two suspensor chairs, not easily intimidated but the hatred in the man’s eyes gave away his hand- a hand you did not want to feel the wrath of any time soon. Luckily, this meeting was not between him and you as he swiftly left the room.
You sat in the chair and surveyed the room. Large bookcases circled the room, dwarfed by the high ceilings, they looked entirely out of place. Delicate carvings etched stories of men through the wood, such intricacy you had never seen. The carving was a match to that of the wooden desk in front of you. A scroll, pens and a wax pot sat on the wooden top, protected only by a piece of navy fabric. The Atreides emblem was sewn into the fabric with gold thread. A large chair sat behind the table, the shadow of an H stained the back, quickly pulled off with the new occupation. A new determinism set into you, that stain reminding you of why you were here.
You stood up and walked around the bookcases for a secret door. The Baron was known for them, in a place like this with the terrible company he kept an escape was always necessary. Some called him a coward, you called it intelligence. You ran your hand under the shelves, searching for a break.
“Miss L/n,” The voice of the Duke startled you, expecting the soldier.
“I was admiring your books,” You explained casually, turning around to face him. Carefully you walked around the grand table, as the Duke did the same until you came to opposite sides.
“Have a seat,” he offered, gesturing to the two chairs which sat in front of the desk. You smiled and sat, unsure of the meaning of the meeting but certain this happy facade would get you out of it.
“Thank you again for such a pleasant dinner,” You complemented, remaining standing behind the two chairs. The Duke stood in front of his chair, his arms behind his back.
“I hear you got lost,” The Duke said, wasting no time.
“Yes. This place is like a maze, it is a wonder anyone can find their way,” You giggled, hoping a girlish innocent front would get you out of the room and his suspicious quickly.
“Odd seeing as you grew up here,”
“I fear you’ve been given false information sir I have been here but a handful of times. I was younger then yes but I did not live here,” You explained. It was true, you hadn’t been here for years. The Duke hummed in agreement, not believing you in the slightest.
“The one thing I expect from my people is honesty,” He spoke carefully and sternly. My people. The phrase curdled in your mind, and you frowned.
“I am not your people,”
“No?” The Duke asked, shocked by your sudden defiance, “Arrakis was given to me by the emperor, this is my fief, my land, my people,” You scowled but said nothing. “Do you think me an idiot Miss Y/n? That I do not know your intentions with my son?”
“I have no intentions with your son,” You spoke truthfully again.
“Lie to me again and there will be consequences,” Duke Leto’s face became like a stone with the threat.
“I tell no lie. The question you should be asking is what your son’s intentions are with me? He asked me to follow him to his room, you should have heard the things he said to me,” You purred, fighting back a smile as the Duke curled his lip.
“My son-“
“Your son is not a child, as you said yourself,” You interrupted, watching as he walked around the desk to you. You couldn’t stop the smug smile on your lips now, you’d got under his skin, “You remember being his age, don’t you?”
The young Duke was renowned for his escapades with many women, and his prowess with still spoken about by the women of Caladan and throughout the Court of the Emperor. It was why he hadn’t married his whore, you assumed.
“I know Paul well enough to know that he would have better judgement,” His comment was intended to insult, but you smiled wickedly turning it back on him.
“Better judgement than you?” You had spent enough time with powerful men to know how they worked. They could say they were righteous and true but it always came down to sex. Anger and lust are neighbouring emotions, men always seem to struggle to tell them apart. This man was no different.
“Tell me your true objective here,” He advanced on you a few steps, and you stepped back an equal amount.
“You know why I am here,” You smirked, all too happy to taunt him.
“I wish to hear it from your mouth,” He said, you pursed your lips and said nothing else, “Speak,”
“If I don’t?”
“I have ways of getting you to talk,” He advanced again, you stepped back until your hips hit the bookcase behind you. He came closer still until he was mere inches away from you, crowding you to the wall. Curiously, he had no shield up. He trusted his men to clear you of weapons, he thought you were not a threat. How wrong he was.
“What are you going to do to me? Fuck me? Your wife would not like that,”
“Is that how you get what you want?” He asked, his brows raised questioning you mockingly. He was closer now, crowding you against the bookcase, “Degrade yourself for men just to stay alive?”
“I can see you want to,” You tilted your head to the side, looking across his face. So close you could see every detail of his greying beard, the harsh furrow line between his brows and across his forehead, a small scar on his cheek. You could feel his elevated heart rate, rose-tinted cheeks, and enlarged pupils were not just from the alcohol at dinner, “You won’t kill me,”
“I won’t?” He was surprised by your assertion, almost laughing at you.
“No. Because you’re weak and a coward,” You spat the insults at him, your true hatred rising to the surface once more.
“I do not need to kill you to get my message across. I am not as callous as my cousin,”
“But you would like to see me in pain. For me to suffer at your hand? Disfigure me is I could not do what I attempted tonight with your son ever again? You are exactly like them,”
“Perhaps I should send you back unharmed, unsuccessful. If you’re so desperate for death I am sure your Feyd would be more than happy to see you to it,” You glared at him at the mention of Feyd in that way. The Duke smiled wickedly, “You are not the only one who did their research. I know exactly who you are through it was entertaining hearing you spin your lie to my lady,”
“You degrade yourself calling that witch by that title,” you curled your lip in disgust.
“Speak of her again and I will cut out your tongue,” He threatened, seething with anger. You met his mutual glare, daring him to try and attack you. You had come to a stalemate.
You knew you needed to get space, needed to get the upper hand before it was too late. He had trapped you against the wall, but you space to slip out, with more room there was more chance of escaping him. You broke his gaze to look to his left, when his eyes followed taking your bate you darted to his right.
 In the blink of an eye your back pressed against the bookcase behind you and his shield was up. He grabbed your shirt, pulling you back to him. The sharpness of his clutch pulled you back and pulled the shirt apart. The buttons clattered to the ground. The yellow shirt you wore fell to your sides, exposing your bare breasts and chest to him. You didn’t care about that, more worried at the exposure of your poison vial hidden in the side of the shirt.
Leto saw the bottle and grabbed it before you had a chance to even think about what to do next. He pulled it with a sharp tug from the chain which linked it to the fabric and it came free. The blue-grey colour of the liquid was undoubtedly poison. Its thick casing and hidden placement had concealed it from the poison snipers planted throughout the palace and the search you had endured before entering. You watched him closely, trying to read his stone face.
“I should kill you,” Fury overtook him, his attention remaining on the vial in his hand.
“It’s tetrodotoxin,” you said. One of the most horrific poisons available in the known universe.
“Quiet,” He snarled. You smiled wickedly, happy to have gotten him so riled up. Leto flicked the vial between his fingers before slipping it into his trouser pocket, unbothered by it. He did not move away from you; the shield was kept up. His eyes scoured your body, top torn open there was barely a stitch covering your breasts, certainly from his higher angle. Finally, the eagle’s eyes landed on the heart stop placed on your chest. A small piece of metal hiding a deadly mechanism inside your chest, one yank of the small handle on the outside your heart would stop, it was a common safety mechanism installed in all members of the Harkonnen court. Curious his fingers rose and touched the cold plate, you stilled, the smile disappearing and fear returning to your eyes as it had done when he attacked you. It was Leto’s turn to smile wickedly.
“As barbaric as these things are I must hand it to my cousin it is far simpler than a gun or knife,” His finger looped through the hold, you held your breath but met his stare, conflicted as to whether you were scared or not. He was not like the Baron, he was not as ruthless, and he wouldn’t do it. One small tug and it would be over. “So simple,” He mused.
“Do it,” You urged him, a wash of wicket excitement poured over you. You had played with Death so many times you could call it a friend. The Duke studied you for a moment, then dropped the small metal piece that held your life in the balance,
“You still don’t understand how this works do you?” He scoffed, “I am your Duke. If I wanted you dead you would be, only because I wished it. You have no power or say in whether you live or die here do you understand?”
“You are nothing to me,” You snarled.
“No,” He said quietly, his voice low and patronising, his hand drew up from your breast to your jaw, his warm hand caressing the skin,” Yes, your grace is the only thing I should hear from that pretty little mouth,” You remained silent. He drew this thumb over your lips, dragging it over your bottom lip until you yielded.
“Oh, he has got you trained well, hasn’t he?” The Duke chuckled to himself as your mouth opened, letting his thumb slide across your wet tongue.
You had him. This was your chance to kill the duke.
Earlier you had spotted a letter opener on the desk. It was not enough to kill him, but surely enough to mame and slow him down to administer your poison.
In a swift movement you bit down hard on the Duke’s thumb, swiping your leg behind his causing him to fall to the side. He cursed you loudly, and before you could get the three paces to the desk he caught your arm. He pulled you back with a force you could not overpower tripping over your own feet. He slammed you into the desk, you head hitting the wood with a bang. You reached with your spare hand for the small knife but again was too slow for the bird sharp man. He caught your arm, knocked the knife away and pulled both your hands behind you back, holding you down with the weight of his body.
“Stupid, stupid girl,” he hissed. Suddenly a small sharp needle pierced your side. You cried out and hissed as the liquid entered your bloodstream. You squirmed under him, trying to kick his legs out, but he remained strong. “You’re lucky I only gave you truth spirit,”
You had been given truth spirit so many times you knew the effects well. Your mind seemed to step up a gear, racing faster than you could keep up with. You itched, from head to toe and your tongue felt big in your mouth. After a quiet moment as you took more notice of your body than the one pressed against you, the duke asked his questions.
“You are here to kill my son, yes?”
“Yes,”
“And you know who the spy is in my house?”
“Yes,”
“Who are they?”
“The witch,” you snarled. Leto pressed harder onto your back.
“Don’t make me hurt you,”
“I want you to,” you gasped, laughing at your own admission but not stopping yourself from pushing your hips back against the duke.
“Who is the spy?” He asked again, insistent. Desperate.
“Jessica. Your Lady Jessica is the spy,” you taunted him with your truth.
“This doesn’t have to be so hard, tell me and I’ll let you go,”
“That is the truth! Truth spirt doesn’t lie,” You laughed, the drug confusing you and making you hysterical.
Leto snatched your shoulder, pulling you up then down to the floor. You fell to your knees, hitting the stone floor with a smack that was amplified by the cavernous room. Your knees and palms ached with pain that had been dulled by the drug coursing through your veins. Your laughter stopped as you protested the sudden manhandling. The Duke’s hands were back on you quickly, taking hold of your hair in one hand to pull you upright once more.
He loomed above you, ever taller and wider to you from your low position. You pulled your eyes up, an impish smile on your face, happy to feel the hand of his hatred. Your cocky smile quickly dropped when you saw the little blue bottle in his hand, the top between his teeth. He spat it out, sending it to an unknown corner of the room. Fear flooded your body.
“You lying Harkonnon whore,” He sneered at you. You struggled against him, trying to get away but his hold of your hair was too strong. You had danced with death but the effects of that poison were far worse.
“No one can overcome truth spirit,” You exclaimed quickly, trying to bring him to reason. The man was desperate, he didn’t hear it.
“I will not ask again,”
“Lady Jessica is the spy! I read the message before it was sent!”
“Liar!” He bellowed, tipping the bottle.
“I cannot lie!”
You screamed as the poison burned your skin. Only a small droplet fell onto your shoulder, the horrific sensation that instantly flooded your body was immeasurable in comparison. The heat took over you, radiating through your lungs and instantly restricting your breathing. A sparked sharp sting spread over your shoulder and neck, like electricity jumping across your skin. You collapsed forward onto his boots, wailing in agony. You sobbed, curled in on yourself cradling your shoulder, trying your best not to touch it so the poison could not spread any further.
Above you the duke was unmoved, simply waiting for you to quieten down so he could speak once more.
 “I know it is not Jessica, it is impossible and I know it was entirely fabricated by your brutish house. There are people here who believe it to be true, even she believes I believe it. I am not to be fooled easily. You don’t know the spy, fine. I believe you, tell me everything you do know,”
You couldn’t speak for the sobs rocking through your body. The Duke ran his hands over your head, shushing you in a way that should have been comforting if he was not the one administering the pain.
“When are they coming?”
“Once the signal is given,” You whisper, your voice hoarse with pain.
“And that signal is what exactly?” He asked calmly. You bit your tongue harshly, knowing the consequence of your true words. He was desperate, there was no way he would believe you. “Speak!”
“I don’t know!” You yelled, immediately cowering from the inevitable deadly droplet, “please your grace, I don’t know anything,”
“Now I am your Duke?” He mocked you, “When I hold your life in my hands?”
“I will do anything,” You pleaded tearfully.
The words lay heavy in the air between you. Slowly he put the bottle onto the table behind him, keeping it uncapped and within arm’s reach for his own security. You pushed up from the cold floor to sit up, wincing at the blisters that had formed on your shoulder from the poison. He looked down at you, slowly taking your chin in his hand and making you look at him. He loomed over you, chest heaving with fury and lust.
“Beg me to fuck you,”
“I-“
“Beg,”
You stared up at him, completely speechless unable even if you want to answer him. Your silence only enraged him more. He slapped you, hard, across the face. You yelped and cowered away, eyes watering as your cheek stung. You could feel the bruise from his ducal signet ring impacting your cheekbone instantly start to bloom, “Beg me to fuck you,” He seethed in almost a whisper.
You couldn’t stop yourself. Lust bursting from its cage that you had tried so desperate to keep locked.
“Fuck me,”
“I am your Duke. Address me as such,” he ordered harshly, his voice thick with hunger.
“Fuck me please, your grace,” the honorific felt bitter on your tongue, but you loved the taste.
He pulled you up from the floor, turning you away from him before pulling your body against his.
“You walk in here,” He panted, blowing hot air against your neck, close enough to kiss you but you knew wouldn’t. There is kindness in a kiss, this was no kindness, “you distract me, torment me, and insult me by attempting to seduce my son,” He spat each accusation at you, infuriated with your very being. He pressed his clothed hips into your ass, you keened softly at the feeling of his hard cock against you.
He slowly pushed you forward, until your chest hit the cold wooden desk once again.
“You are lucky I didn’t give you to my men. They’ve been without women for weeks, who knows what they’d do to you, but I’d bet you’d like that wouldn’t you?” He pushed your skirt up above your hips, exposing your bare ass.
“Look at you, soaked,” He pushed one finger through your wet folds, you bit your lip hard so as to stop the moan that grew in your throat as the tip of his finger brushed your clit. Just as quickly as he had touched you, his hand retreated, “I want to hear you,” He ordered sternly, “You know what I will do if you disobey me,”
“Please,” You gasped.
“What was that?”
“Please fuck me, your grace,”
“I should record you right here and send it to your Baron. How pathetic and desperate you are for my cock,” Bent over the desk you could not see him, but you felt the intense stare of the eagle-eyed Duke focused on your exposed cunt. You lifted your hips in a desperate hope that his hand was not far to provide some friction again. The Duke watched with amusement, “Beg me,”
“Please, your grace. Please fu-,” Your words were cut off with a sudden cry he finally entered you. He was thick, feeling larger because of how unexpected the intrusion had been. He did not wait for you to settle either, his cock pulling out just as quick as it had gone in. His large hands gripped your waist, pulling your skirt up higher so he could watch himself enter you again.
You had never felt so full in your life, your pussy ached as he fucked you hard. He wasn’t fast but deliberate, the rumours you had heard in court were entirely true. You melted into the wooden surface beneath you, eyes rolling back into your head as he fucked you relentlessly. Your hips met each of his thrusts, your calves cramping as you pushed yourself on your tiptoes to meet his cock. He groaned and cursed you under his breath, pent up frustration manifesting in hard thrusts into your soaked pussy.
The pleasure began to build as your gasps became whines and quiet cries of pleasure. You snuck your hand under your stomach, but before you could reach your throbbing clit, Leto grabbed your wrist and pulled it out and to your back, pinning you to the table. You wailed in protest.
“I did not say you could touch yourself,” He growled, holding your wrist tight to your back.
“Please!”
“This is not for you,” He said through gritted teeth, groaning loudly as you tensed around his cock, “You cum if and when I tell you,” The sound of his cock pounding into you filled the room, echoing throughout the large stone office, only punctuated by Leto’s occasional grunt or chocked cry from you.
Suddenly he stopped, pulling away from you entirely. You picked yourself up and turned your head to see him. Before you could say anything, he pulled your arm to get you to stand and face him. He sat down in his chair, a smug and satisfied smirk on his face.
He looked utterly sinful. His peppered hair had fallen from its brushed back position over his face, a suggestion of curl starting to form as the hair was met with sweat. His brown skin shone in the golden light of the glow globe, the exertion of his torment shining on his skin. He was still completely closed, his belt discarded and trousers now entirely unzipped as he stroked his cock in his hand, watching you.
“Show me why he keeps you,” His words were thick with lust. You needed no further instruction as you climbed on top of his, knees on either side of his legs trapped between them and the arms of the chair.
The Duke let you take his cock into your hands, hissing with pleasure as you stroked him for a moment. You shifted forward, lining him up with your hole and sunk down onto it.
“Fuck,” You chocked out as he split you open again. You shifted your legs wider to fit him in, the wet sound filling the air around you. Finally, you rested once he was deep inside you. Leto tipped his head back, panting, trying to catch his breath as you throbbed around him. You nearly came from the sight alone, a sense of pride washing over you that you had reduced him to this. Feeling bold you leaned forward and kissed his neck as he held it exposed to you. You lifted off his cock slowly as you did, moaning into his skin as you relished in the drag of it along your tight walls.
He pushed you back after a moment, his hands holding your hips as he manhandled you to a rougher rhythm. You could not forget he was in charge. You moaned and cried out as he set a brutal pace, his hips rising from the chair to snap into yours as you rode his cock. You gripped the back of the chair behind his head, your naked tits bouncing in front of his face. He leaned forward and took one nipple into his mouth, groaning into your skin at the taste of you. His hands left your hips, moving to grip the armrests as you fucked him hard.
Pleasure built in your stomach, slowly building a fire that would soon consume you. You took hold of his hand from the armrests and placed it on your heart stop. The feeling of powerlessness, you were used to, Feyd took this liberty all too many times, you knew he would not kill you. There was no trust with Leto. It made the entire thing that much more pleasurable as your adrenaline heightened and the pleasure of his cock splitting you open sent you to another plane. You cried out as he took hold of the small hold quickly, fucking into you harder as he had gained ultimate control over you. You had offered it, your final and ultimate submission to him as he truly held your life in his hands.
You rode him fiercely, circling your hips to drive him deep to every spot you had inside. He growled as the first flutter of your coming climax gripped his cock. While one hand stayed attached to your heart stop, his palm brushing your hard nipple, his other hand had ventured to your clit.
“Cum on my cock, Y/n,” He ordered, the use of your name catching your attention immediately. You opened your eyes and met his. “Cum for me,” That determined look that was ever etched on his face stared back at you, as his fingers rubbed circles over your clit. You cried out, almost immediately collapsing into him. He kept going, only pausing for a moment to adjust his legs to fuck up into you as he chased his own high.
Your climax hit suddenly, entirely all-consuming you had never felt anything like it. You cried out, thrashing against his incessant fingers as he pushed you past any pleasure you had felt before. Tears formed in your eyes as he used your pussy until his own climax came, spilling his cum deep inside you. You burnt, feeling entirely out of your own body you fell into his heaving chest.
Before you could feel any kind of rest, Leto pulled his cock out from your dripping cunt, did up his trousers, and stood you up. Your legs turned to jelly, unable to function after such an offence the Duke held you up with strong hands. You could feel his cum trickle down your leg, mixing with your own mess between your thighs.
You looked up at him with a dreamy- utterly fucked out face. Tears and sweat shone on your cheeks, your chest still rising and falling quickly, slowing as you calmed down. Leto looked down at you, his usual serious scowl back on his face, though a little softer now whether it was caring for you or having burnt out the majority of his hatred you could not tell.
He caressed your jaw, soft touches sending a flutter of affection through your body and your eyes fell shut once more. His fingers came down your neck, and you sighed satisfied beyond what you even knew possible. You flinched as he reached the burn on your shoulder, your attention snapping back to his face, alarm and caution immediately taking the place of your pleasure. You watched him watch his hands travel over your skin, around the injury he had inflicted. The scar it would undoubtedly leave would serve as a constant reminder of your submission to him and his rule. Eventually, his fingers came back to the heart-stop in your chest. You held your breath.
You wondered if he could feel your heart beating so rapidly beneath it. A mere slither of metal away from him. You watched his movements carefully, watching him trace the engraved ‘H’. He picked his head up, finally looking back up to see the terror written across your face.
Expecting the hard glare, you received earlier you were surprised to see softness. Pity. There was more kindness, more understanding silently in his eyes than anyone had ever given you before. It terrified you.
After a moment he dropped his hand from your chest, kissed your forehead and stepped away.
You finally let your breath go, shakily sitting back down in the desk chair behind you for fear you could pass out. Swinging so violently from pleasure and satisfaction to fear you felt nauseous. You watched him readjust his jacket, slip his belt back around it, and brush his fingers through his greying hair so nobody could tell what had happened. He tugged his jacket sharply, took a deep breath to compose himself and removed himself from what had transpired in this room.
He walked toward the door, taking one final look at you before he left. His lips quirked into a smug smile for just a second, no doubt satisfied with the mess he had made of you now sitting under the scrubbed out Harkonnen emblem on his chair. A symbol of his coming victory, he hoped at least. 
“I will have an ornithopter waiting for you. Take it to the smuggler’s and leave this planet. If I hear you still remain on this planet by sunrise, remember I still have this. There will be no corner of this place you could hide,” He flashed the bottle of poison in his hand before slipping it into his trouser pocket again. You nodded, “Understand?”
“Yes, your grace,”
With that he shut the door, leaving you in his chair dazed and confused as to what had to have just transpired. Proof dripped from you onto your skirts, making its way down your leg. You had no doubt you looked a mess, hair pulled from its delicate design and makeup smeared.
You had nothing to clean yourself with. You would have to go out there, everyone would know what had happened. You had no choice, maybe that was the duke’s plan- to humiliate you. But you had no choice. You could not return home, once the Baron found out what had transpired here tonight you would be dead. You had to run.
—-
9 months away and she comes back with porn… hehe hope you enjoyed this! It really was the inevitable outcome of studying this story for a year lol
tagging possibly interested peeps: @laters-gators @polaroidpetal @autumnleaves1991-blog
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itinerant-monk · 1 month
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Uploading the first 6 chapters of my "hellfic" on Ao3 very soon. Note: Hellfic is not the official title, its just my name for it because I've restarted this damn thing twice.
Why am I uploading 6 chapters? I like to upload in batches rather than chapter by chapter, it just makes things easier. I may upload some character sketches as bonus content after the batch just as extras. I finished 11 chapters so far but to prevent creative burnout, I'm switching gears to art for a bit before I start on the following chapters.
That's about it. Its coming I swear. 🫠
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anonymolly · 1 year
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giver of phantasm orgasms always on
my periphery my skin my fingers my
waistline when I tuck my phone between
my hem and my high rise panties wet
for you at night when you aren’t here—
you never are. I bite my tongue, I swallow
because that’s what good girls do, I
I I I sound like a stubborn child, too dumb
to know what I’m demanding or how
to get it, too young for what I wear or don’t
under sundresses at the Dairy Freeze
where I should be with you, you, you,
you are in my pocket— “did you miss me?”
yes, my love, of course. all day long
while you were at work, not thinking of me.
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futureghost97 · 2 years
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September is on its deathbed, and the winter months are at our door. Please be kind to each other— I’m begging you. Some of us need a little extra warmth this time of year; hold us tighter, love us harder, prepare us entire pots of tea and sit with us in the noise of it all. The world itself gets quiet this time of year, but sometimes our brains get loud, cunty, less forgiving. This is not a season for easiness; cold weather demands hard work from all of us to make it through.
The past two weeks have been tough. I’ve struggled to breathe in the bathroom at a party. I’ve taken my first stinging shower in almost 10 years. I’ve had headaches nonstop, and a migraine on a particularly bad day. I want nothing more than a cigarette, and I want nothing less than my body. And my hands have never felt this cold or trembling so early in the fall; please hold onto them awhile. I’ll do my best to keep you warm, too. 🖤
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jokermoreau · 1 year
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Made my book characters in the ai art generator today. In order from top to bottom, left to right: Marla, Tyler, James, Jasmine, Maggie (and bonus marla and Tyler together sibs)
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stridermagic · 28 days
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My fics!
New Year, belated new status post
I am tentatively going to try to make 2024 the year where I finish some old fics. Ice Queen, Kite, On Call, Growing Pains to name a few.
I am also working on a lot of new soulmate HP crossover fics.
Cole Turner(Charmed)
Edward Cullen(Twilight) -- don't ask
Carlisle Cullen(Twilight)
Tony DiNozzo(NCIS)
Homelander(The Boys) -- this is still cooking; haven't picked out the soulmate trope yet
I am also working on a 5+1 fic with Cole and hopefully plan on finishing it before posting it. (can you tell I've been watching Charmed?)
I need to rework the intro to my Harry/Loki 5+1 fic but that shouldn't take too long.
I have a Harrie/Jax story that is demanding to be written where SAMCRO is a werewolf pack.
I'm planning a Harry/Olivia Benson blind date one shot. Should be fun.
Anyway, that's the plan for 2024.
(Also...I may or may not be planning for kinktober 2024. I'll keep you guys posted)
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nellasbookplanet · 13 days
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I've been thinking about Mollymauk, as I'm periodically wont to do, and the fandom discussion about him as a moral compass. Because the interesting thing here is, Molly wasn’t a very moral character. He was an unrepentant scammer. He had no respect for interpersonal boundaries and would deliberately push and break them. Generally, he was an asshole. As far as actually having a strong moral stance I would say Fjord was the standout of early m9, and to some extent Beau.
But here’s the thing: almost all of early m9 thought of themselves as horrible people. Fjord had been bullied so bad growing up that he still dealt with self-hate from it, and now suffered from survivor's guilt to boot. Caleb had killed his own parents. Beau, while she hated her dad, also had internalized self-hate and on some level thought she’d been such a shitty daughter she deserved his treatment. Nott was stuck in a body she considered monstrous. Yasha had survivor's guilt and knew she’d done bad things in her blank spots. Even when they did good, they didn’t think of themselves as good. Most of them were suspicious and asocial and faced the world with the same kind of distrust they expected to be (and were experienced in being) met with. (Jester was an exception, an agent of neither good nor bad but of amoral chaos)
But Molly was different. He was outspoken about loving life and people. He wanted to spread joy, even to people he didnt know or had even met: he slipped coin into people's pockets, hid a silver in a tree just so some stranger would one day be happy to find it. He openly cared for the party early on; was one of the first to step in and help Caleb when he went catatonic in battle. Above all, Molly had rules: where everyone else would agonize over what was the right or wrong or smart thing to do, Molly loudly proclaimed we don't leave people behind, and we leave every place better than we found it.
But the thing about Molly’s rules was, they were largely a cover. While the rest of the m9 thought they were bad even as they did good, Molly thought of himself as good even as he did bad. He scammed people, but made it a good and memorable experience, therefore thinking he gave more than he took. He charmed Nott and Fjord without consent, and when confronted would claim it was to help them. Out of the group, Beau saw through this, not because she was a better person but because she was a cynic. She saw that he caused harm, just as she did, and was personally affronted that he still thought of himself as good and tried to leave people happy, whereas she deliberately left every place worse than she found it.
I see Molly as a moral compass of the group not because he was actually any more moral than them, but because they made him their template. He was joy and brightness and he died trying to save them because it was the right thing to do, and they all chose to honor him by emulating his rules more than Molly himself ever did, because to them it was more than just a cover, backed up by genuine moral thought and discussion rather than small gestures. He taught them that it was possible to be kind of a shit person and still be good, to still love yourself and others. The idealized Molly they created never existed, and finally died for good when they resurrected him in the end and were met with a stranger, who they welcomed with the same love and care they would've expected Molly to show them.
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tubborucho · 1 month
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i am not doing this right but i am right
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bigfootsmom · 17 days
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all I want (your eyes on mine) by bigfootsmom on ao3
eddie/buck/tommy • explicit • 10.2k
Buck is lying there, Eddie instantly recognizes the head of honey blond curls resting on the arm of the couch. But the head of short brown curls between Buck’s shaking thighs takes a second longer to place. But then they look up, blue eyes going comically wide as they lock onto Eddie.  Tommy Kinard is on Buck’s couch. He’s on Buck’s couch between Buck’s thighs with his lips wrapped around Buck’s cock.  The one where Eddie yearns, Buck pines, and Tommy just wants to have a good time.
read on ao3
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teddybearty · 4 months
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Finished Prison of Plastic for the second time recently sooooo here’s a BEAR TRAP!! 🐻 🐻 🐻
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perfectquote · 18 days
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It’s kinda pointless to fight for what you want when what you want continues to break your heart.
Molly McAdams
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thehopefulquotes · 7 months
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It’s kinda pointless to fight for what you want when what you want continues to break your heart.
Molly McAdams
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futureghost97 · 2 years
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Phantom Pain
I don’t make friends like that— not anymore. I don’t know how. I mean those friends who knew everything about me, because I let them. There was no need to withhold any part of myself from them. I didn’t know why anyone would, or why anyone should; I just loved, and loving was so easy back then. It was total. It was everything. And I hadn’t learned to harden, or to compare a relationship’s input and output, or to kill parts of myself. My friends and I were porous, permeable, fucking oceanic— we resided outside of our bodies because we gave ourselves over to each other, of course we did. I handed out my favorite parts of who I was before I became who I am. I suspect that those parts of me are only now alive in the people I loved when I was young; sometimes, I think they hold more of me than I do. On days like today, I am the ghost of a long-dead girl, carved up over space and time, residing in the bodies of people I no longer know. It’s a form of organ donation— love— and I can’t take those parts of myself back, even if their current owners don’t want them, even if I need them. I just don’t exist in that shape anymore; a ghost can’t hold her own heart. So I haunt, and I think, and I remember, but more than anything, I hope. I hope that, wherever they are, my former friends are taking care of us, running their fingers over, but not picking at, the skin grafts I left to testify for me in my absence— “there was love here! there is love here, still!” I hope that they recognize the fragments of me, and remember them, always fondly and increasingly infrequently. But most of all, I hope that they have found organ donors, ready and eager, for the moment when those last pieces of me wear out. And a small piece of me hopes, too, that I’ll be able to feel it when that happens, just to share another moment with them— to say goodbye, I love you, thanks for letting me stay awhile.
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feral-ballad · 2 years
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We are alive. And now the work is to be gentler with ourselves and with the world. I want such a sweet life for you. I want the fierceness of attention, of the light coming over the hill, of your own hand bringing a cup to your mouth. Of love, which will abide so much longer than the fire.
Molly McCully Brown, from Places I've Taken My Body: Essays
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New Fic is out!
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Made art for this one
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