#Gurney Halleck smut

[thepaperpanda]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 3 - A Horny Kitten || Duncan Idaho x fem!reader x Gurney Halleck

Masterlist

Summary: When Duncan told you Gurney had a massive crush on you, you refused to believe him. You and Duncan decide one day to test Halleck and see if the rumours are true.

Warnings: smut (threesome, oral sex, MMF, anal sex)

Word count: ~ 1625

Author: Fenrir

A/N: the prompt for today is: Blow Jobs

In a meeting room, you and Duncan were waiting for another order when Halleck sat across from you.

Duncan already asked you to take off your underwear, so only your formal dress stood between you and a wandering eye.

Seeing that Idaho wanted you to catch Gurney's attention, you opened your legs to reveal a slightly wet pussy of yours.

Duncan saw Gurney’s eyes catch the upskirt view of you. This startled him a little, and he looked at Duncan again. Slowly, Idaho kissed your neck, spread your legs further, and looked back at Gurney. It wasn't long before Duncan noticed that Halleck had to adjust his cock, which was stiffening up under his pants.

When Duncan told you one day that Gurney Halleck had a massive crush on you, you didn't believe him. Apparently, your boyfriend was right.

As you scooted forward, you exposed more of your pussy. Your pussy was craving a cock.

"It is unlikely that the Duke will return anytime soon. Could it be better if we went back to our chamber?” You asked Duncan, turning your head slightly to look at him with a mischievous grin on your lips.

After brushing some of your hair aside, Duncan placed his lips on the soft part of your neck, exposing the softness of its crook to Halleck. “Yes, it’s a good idea.”

As you looked Gurney in the eyes, Duncan did the same to make sure Halleck understood the hidden message.

You were told by Duncan on your way back to your shared room that you had behaved very well and would be rewarded for it.

Once you returned to the bedroom, he stripped your plain, black dress, placed his keys and sword on the table, and removed his clothes, along with his boxers. In your eagerness, you crawled toward Duncan's cock as he sat on the bed. Before you got close enough to wrap your palm around his shaft, he jerked himself a few times.

You took it in your mouth and slowly started to give him a blowjob. As you gazed up at Duncan, you started sucking on his tip, swirling your tongue around it before putting his cock deep in your mouth.

You didn't appear to have noticed Halleck coming in; Duncan hadn't completely shut the door so Gurney could get in.

Your craving puss and tiny, pink butthole were exposed to Halleck as you gave Idaho a blowjob.

Gurney slid down his combat pants and climbed onto the bed behind you without saying a word.

Duncan's cock was out of your mouth, so you sucked on his balls instead. Upon Halleck's cock entering your tight cunt from behind, you let out a loud moan. After sucking on Duncan's balls for a while, you turned your gaze towards Halleck, moaning louder. When a new cock began to satisfy your long-hidden craving, Duncan was thrilled to see you like this. He felt Gurney's thrusts were firm and slow because each thrust rocked you backwards and forwards.

Halleck must have a very nice, big cock, judging from your expression.

A curious Duncan crept his head between your legs while lying flat on the bed. Seeing a nice, thick shaft moving slowly into and out of your wet pussy, already glistening in your leaking juices, he smiled to himself. Duncan started licking your clit from below as Halleck's balls slapped against your stack out ass.

Moaning loudly, you shifted your angle, causing Gurney's cock to fall out. Duncan knew you wanted Halleck's cock inside you again, so he slid it in again.

Gurney started fucking you faster and harder than before.

Duncan got a better angle on your pussy, so he stuck his tongue out and licked near your clit, while Gurney's cock also ran over Idaho's tongue.

Gurney's balls and cock contracted, and Duncan heard him moan deep while he dumped his cum inside you. Finally, Halleck pulled his cock out and jerked it a few times to release the last drops of his cum, leaving Duncan to clean up his mess on your pussy.

Gurney sat on the edge of the bed and jerked on his still erected cock, watching you push Duncan so he was in a more comfortable position before straddling his face.

You started bucking your hips back and forth, fucking Duncan's face as his hands gripped tightly on your round hips. Palming your breasts, you whispered, "Stick your tongue out, I wanna feel it on my fucking cunt." When Duncan complied, you reached one of your hands down your body to rub on your clitoris viciously, shaking in an overwhelming pleasure. “Fuck, that’s it, baby boy, lick my fucking cunt like that. Fuck!” You went over the edge when he licked your clit simultaneously, massaging your folds with his tongue. As your legs shook, you let out a moan, “Fuck! ”

Then you leaned forward and grabbed Gurney's cock, jerking it for him a few times before taking his shaft into your mouth, bobbing your head back and forth as you continued riding Duncan's face. You got to taste your juices on Halleck’s dick. You were insanely horny, slobbering Gurney's balls and cock like a whore.

It felt like a knot was building up within Duncan's abdomen as he grabbed his hard cock and jerked his shaft. When he stopped eating your cunt, he exclaimed, "You're fucking delicious. But I want to fuck you finally, babe.”

With a loud pop sound, you pulled Halleck’s cock out of your mouth and with a sad whimper you got off Duncan. 

“Wait,” Gurney looked at Idaho. “Can I taste her first?” He pleaded.

Massaging his balls, Duncan looked at his friend. “Fine.”

As you laid on your back and spread your legs wide for Gurney, you rubbed your clit with your fingers already slick with your juices and Halleck's cum. “Come on, old man, what the fuck are you waiting for?” You whispered seductively. “I want your tongue on my fucking clit.”

Gurney grabbed you by your hips and pulled you on the edge of the bed, kneeling down on the floor; immediately, his mouth was attached to your needy cunt and he began slurping on your pussy, grabbing your pussy lips between his teeth to pull gently on them, sucking them in his mouth. He felt his erection growing hard again.

"Duncan," you spat flatly, looking at your boyfriend with half-opened eyes. 

As your boyfriend kneeled next to you, you wrapped your hand tightly around his cock, which was already dripping with pre-cum. With your sharp nails, you squeezed his balls between your fingers as you turned to him and gave him a long lick on his hardened shaft.

"Fuck you, Y/N," Duncan gasped, rolling his head back and slipping one of his hands into your hair to tug at it when you put his cock back into your mouth, sucking and gagging yourself as your hand jerked his shaft at the same time.

Gurney's tongue hit your clitoris as he swirled it around your pussy; soon he put two fingers into you, forcing you to put your legs on his shoulders, still covered in his shirt. "Fuck, your girlfriend is so fucking sweet," Gurney exclaimed, looking at Duncan, who replied with a proud grin. Halleck spat on your clit before he attacked your clitoris with his mouth, sucking hardly on it until you started whimpering from pleasure, your legs shaking again, and your hand slipping into his greyish hair. Eventually, Halleck stopped and watched you sucking Idaho's cock.

“Enough,” Duncan ordered, pulling you by your hair off his cock. “Straddle Halleck.”

You obeyed.

As soon as you straddled the older man’s lap, his hands grasped your hips, massaging the flesh there as you leaned forward to kiss him passionately; you ground your pussy against Gurney’s cock instinctively; he rolled his head back and slapped your buttocks, than catched them, spreading them wide as his curious index finger played with your asshole, causing you to moan lowly.

After rubbing his cock back and forth between your pussy and your asshole, Duncan slowly pressed against your ass. He felt you relax as his cock tip pushed inward; once it was in, Duncan pushed more and slowly slid his entire shaft inside your ass. He made slow thrusts to relax your asshole more. 

“Fuck her for me, Halleck,” Idaho grunted, sweat beginning to form on his forehead as he was making slow, deep thrusts into your tight ass.

When Idaho stopped thrusting for a moment, Gurney lined his fat cock with your pussy and pushed himself in easily.

“Fuck!” You screamed, putting your hands on Halleck’s chest for support. “Just like that, boys,” you begged. “Fuck me, oh gosh, yes, just like that!”

Each time Gurney made a thrust, Duncan felt your asshole tighten and loosen. He reached his left arm around you and touched your swollen pussy; he could feel Gurney’s cock going in and out of your sloppy pussy. Duncan stimulated your clit and felt your muscles contract. 

As Duncan and Gurney felt your contract around them, they couldn't contain themselves; the three of you came together.

When Duncan and Gurney pulled their cocks out of you, you rolled to the free spot on the bed and sighed. Your hand traveled down to your cunt so you could gather some of their cums on your finger and put it into your mouth, saying, "Fuck you, boys, it was the hottest fuck I've ever had. Mmmm, we need to think about more meetings like that.”

A blush erupted on Gurney's cheeks as he looked at Idaho.

"Now you know that everything I told you about Y/N being a horny kitten was true," Duncan smiled at his friend.

[dun-dun-dune]

Write for Stilgar and Gurney, you cowards. My old men deserve attention 💖 Otherwise, I'm taking this matter into my own hands

[goldenatreides]

- training season -

[ paul atreides x reader ]

2.7k words, oneshot, smut, friends to lovers

summary: in a pinch, a dusty old weapons closet is just as good a hiding place as any.

content warnings: 18+ (minors shoo!) no use of y/n, all characters are over 18, f!reader, smut, religious imagery, mentions of violence, use of the Voice, implied consent, m/f pairing, fingering, PiV sex, semi-public unprotected sex, creampie, uhhhhh overuse of italics, gurney halleck jumpscare,

author’s note: you will pry my italics and religious imagery from my cold, dead hands. i need to be sedated. all feedback is appreciated and lmk if u find anything wrong, it’s my first time writing in a decade i think!! thank you to @earthshells for editing and teaching me about shrimping in bjj <3

🤍 masterlist 🤍 about 🤍 read on ao3 🤍

The clash of two blades resonates through the training room of Caladan.

Paul swipes at your side with his blade but you dodge, elbowing him hard in the ribs, catching him off balance. As you back away, he grabs your arm and pulls you down with him, pinning you against the ground; your face down on the cold stone floor, his legs straddling your back.

Your chest burns at the impact, flush against the floor. You feel his entire weight on top of you, heaving from exertion. His legs keep one arm locked at your side, under him, the other still caught in his grasp, pressed to the ground. Your blade scrapes against the stone.

“Do you yield?” His voice is much closer than you expect. His breath is close, tickling the back of your neck, too close, too warm—a shiver snakes down your spine.

(Why does it do that?)

Dark messy curls fall into your field of vision, some brushing the shell of your ear. A prickle against your jugular taunts you — his knife at your throat. Your shield buzzes with the contact.

(Ah.

He’s pressing it harder today than ever before.)

You make a small noise in answer, sound muffled by the ground.

Paul shifts his weight on top of you by sitting up, his legs still caging your back, knife at your throat. He relaxes the hand that holds yours bound.

(That’s new.)

Instead, Paul grabs a fistful of your hair at the back of your neck, lifting your head slightly. It hurts — but you can’t lie and say it’s… entirely unpleasant.

(Oh.

That’s new too.)

“Well?”

You can hear the teasing grin in his voice. Years upon years of training with him and still, he knows your left side is your weakest. But you’ll be damned before you give Paul the satisfaction of beating you for the third time in a row this week.

You wriggle slightly under him, testing his hold — why is he still clutching your hair? — and finding it looser than you expect, you rotate, using your free arm to lurch back and upwards suddenly, knocking him off you. You hear him land to your side with a thud and a surprised grunt, blade clattering to the ground.

Fingers curling around the hilt of your blade, you spin around, hooking your legs against his to trap him. Now, you straddle him, your knife pressing against his throat.

“What’s gotten into you today, Paul?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” he answers, still grinning.

His eyes are deadly, dark green.

Ignoring his choice to play stupid, you hiss: “Do you yield, Atreides?”

His holtzmann shield buzzes a bright red at his neck.

Your pulse buzzes too.

(Just the adrenaline.)

You want to wipe the smug grin off his face. He could have won so easily, you were distracted, why didn’t he?

Maybe he let his guard down too soon, or maybe — and you’ll never forgive him in this case — he’s going easy on you.

You feel the pinprick echo of his hands clutching your hair. A knot ties in your stomach, but you refuse to associate the two feelings.

(It must be close to lunch by now.)

Surely that must be it.

Paul laughs. It’s bright, airy — did your heart just skip a beat?

“Never.”

He reaches for his blade — that he shouldn’t have lost in the first place, he knows better than that — and as you lean forward to stop him, he uses your momentary distraction to free his other hand.

Which he promptly knots into your hair again, pulling you down by the back of your neck. Your legs slide out from under you against the slippery stone floor. Curse whoever built this castle.

Your own shield joins the buzzing, his knife finding your neck once more, yours still pressed against his, noses a hair’s width away.

His chest moves yours with each breath, every exhale waving strands of your hair that escaped his grasp.

You lie frozen above him for a moment or two. His eyes are so close you can count every individual lash, his pupils so blown you can see yourself reflected back at you.

Something about them is different today.

You’ve been staring at those eyes your whole life. Countless wishes cast on those same fallen lashes, gold flecks sparkling through a sea of forest green. You’ve seen them beam with childish mirth when you stole pastries from the kitchen, both your hands sticky from the bun you shared, giggling under a heavy oak table. You’ve seen them sorrowful and sullen, his under eyes as dark as bruises as he snuck into your room for comfort in the middle of the night after a bad dream, innocent adolescence.

Now, from so close, they’re dark, darker than you’ve seen—a raging sea, so bewitching it can drown you with no warning if you don’t tread with caution. You’ve caught glimpses of it before, in darkened hallways and after too many glasses of crimson Caladan wine, when he didn’t think you were looking—but never with such feverish intensity.

(Just the adrenaline.

He’s just caught up in the fight.)

Paul’s lips part slightly as his chest heaves up and down beneath you. You feel heat creeping into your cheeks, and a mirroring rosy blush dusts his high cheekbones. Few faint freckles dot his cheeks during the summer season and you see them now like clusters of little stars.

His eyes never leave yours, but his tongue darting out and slightly wetting his parted lips grabs your attention and you can’t help but stare. You trace your gaze along the dip in his cupid’s bow, the regal arch of his pointed nose, the cheekbones sculpted as if from marble of antiquity.

(Oh, Maker.

I’m staring.)

You cough to clear your throat from the thick silence that settles over the two of you, broken only by your mingled breaths. His mouth closes, lips curling into a coy smile as he sees you flush more under his stare.

“Something wrong?” his voice comes out husky, deeper than you’ve heard before. Why was the room suddenly so hot? The castle’s heating never worked so well.

You refuse to meet his piercing gaze again, mortified at the situation, desperate to look anywhere but at the boy below you. The boy —your childhood best friend, you remind yourself in an attempt to clear your head of whatever is happening—is different today.

(And whatever is happening is definitely not happening.

It’s just Paul.

He’s just messing with you.)

Still avoiding his eyes, you sit up, excuses already tumbling from your mouth—cut off by Paul tightening his grip on your hair, sending electric sparks tingling at the roots of your scalp.

Your breath hitches in your throat as his voice comes out not fully his own—distant, many echoing voices folding in his own all at once, commanding your undivided attention and acceptance:

“Look at me.”

Your stomach falls through the floor as your eyes snap to meet his. Maybe all those lessons he skipped to hang out with you were not so useless after all.

You feel every point of contact with him a thousandfold. His hand in your hair, yours on his chest, his toned waist between your ever-so-slightly trembling legs. His other hand drops his knife, and slides up to rest on your waist, lithe fingers delicately brushing the stitches of your clothing.

“Paul—” Your voice comes out more of a whispery mumble than you expected.

(Maybe the floor will open up and swallow me whole.)

The hand in your hair relaxes, and his palm slides down to the back of your neck, fingers light as a feather. They hook your jaw, cupping your cheek. You think you’ll suffocate under the weight of his gaze on you.

Paul breaks the stare first, his eyes clinging to your mouth.

His thumb gently traces the outside of your lips, teasing your bottom lip. You hope he can’t feel how your pulse thunders against your neck, your heart threatening to escape your chest at his very touch.

(He definitely can.)

Heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway outside break the spell and you both freeze in a moment of panic. A familiar voice calls out for Paul, as you jump off him and he scrambles to his feet.

He looks around the room quickly, and seeing an old and dusty weapons storage closet, he grabs your hand and pulls you into it, shutting the heavy door as quietly as possible behind him.

Not a moment too soon, as you hear Gurney Halleck’s voice coming from the training room.

“Paul?”

After a beat of silence, Gurney sighs in frustration and you hear the training room doors click as he leaves.

You and Paul breathe a sigh of relief. You’ve both skipped out on one too many tutors this week, but the consequences can wait until…later.

Your eyes adjust to the lack of light in the closet. In the inky darkness, you feel Paul standing in front of you, so close in the cramped space that with each breath his chest flushes against yours. He smells of cedar, of bergamot, of honey. Comforting. Familiar. Paul.

What the hell just happened in that training room? You’re not willing to break the heavy silence first. Neither is he.

Instead, he kisses you.

Your mind goes blank as you feel his lips, softer than a pillow, press against yours. The kiss is gentle, shy, nothing like the fierce training you were practicing earlier, nothing like the commanding voice of the Atreides heir.

(Oh, fuck it.

Maybe it is happening.)

As Paul starts to pull away, you open your lips and kiss him back—feverish, hungry, devouring—your heart hammering out of your chest.

It was as if a rubber band had snapped, releasing whatever was holding either one of you back. He deepens the kiss, and you melt into it—his lips crashing against yours, his tongue tracing against your own. He catches your bottom lip between his teeth and softly pulls, wrenching a deep moan from you that he stifles with his lips.

His hands find your waist and he pushes you back against the wall, lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his middle as he presses into you, his hips slotting perfectly between them.

The sudden movement sends a rack of old weapons crashing down, a cacophony of metal and plasteel, undoubtedly ancient and expensive, startling you both.

He pulls back from you for a moment and breathes heavily, both of you straining to hear if anyone noticed. As you relax, he presses his forehead against yours. A stray curl brushes your lashes. If someone were to find you here, like this, you’re both good as dead for the foreseeable future.

In the darkness, your labored breaths intermingling, his voice comes out as barely a whisper.

“Is this alright?”

Your head spins and you think if you don’t have him right now, immediately, you might die.

Instead of answering, you grab Paul’s face and pull him back in for a kiss. He moans into you, a deep guttural groan, rolling his hips forward, starving hands roaming against breathless skin.

Heat pools in your stomach as he continues to roll his hips against yours, his lips plush and addicting. You knot your fingers into his unruly curls, gently tugging and the groan that leaves his lips is more holy than a hymn.

(Maybe you could stay like this forever.)

He peppers desperate butterfly kisses along your lips, along your jaw, along the length of your neck. As he presses his lips to your pulse in the crook of your neck, you hear him chuckle as you feel the thud-thud thud-thud thud-thud of your racing heartbeat.

His hands fall from your waist to cup your thighs as he continues to kiss and nip at your neck, grazing his teeth along your pulse, leaving barely a mark. The heat between your legs only grows, electricity shooting upwards with every push of his hips. Even through the layers of cloth you can feel him against you and every cell in your body screams more, more, more.

Paul’s hand slides up your inner thigh, and grazes a sensitive spot through the fabric of your underwear. Instinctively, you arch into it, but he stops and pins your back harder against the wall until you can’t move an inch, trapped by his arms and his presence.

You know he’s grinning like a devil in the dark. You don’t want to wipe it away this time.

He toys with the waistband of your underwear, slipping a finger behind the fabric, teasing in lazy, languid strokes. You whine softly, unspoken begs for more of his touch that set your cheeks ablaze and your head whirling.

“What is it?” Paul asks, lips at your neck, kissing at a delicate spot right under your jaw.

“Please,” you groan.

His breathing is ragged as he continues toying with your waistband, a teasing finger occasionally traveling down between your legs.

You think you’re going to die waiting.

“Please what?” He’s toying with you, his voice laced with honey.

If you do die, you’re going to drag him to hell with you.

But in between bruising kisses, all you manage is a whimper that Paul swallows with his kiss.

“Use your words, my star.”

His lips trace the shell of your ear sending electric shivers down your spine. His teeth tug slightly at the lobe and the world echoes until the only thing left is him and his hands and his voice.

“I need you, Paul,” you breathe, the words leaving your mouth before you even think of them, pulled out by his Voice, “Please.”

A lithe finger finally slips under the fabric, pushing it aside. His thumb traces hurried circles around your clit, everything already slick from his relentless teasing.

He presses his lips to yours again, silencing his own groans. Just as the knot in your stomach starts to build, he slides a finger down your slit, and you sigh at the loss of his rhythmic movement.

But you don’t have time to voice your discontent—you feel him slide one of his long fingers inside you and you press into his touch. You don’t even have time to think before another finger slips in and you feel the slight burning stretch. Your head falls back against the cold wall as you pant, and his hands work in and out, chasing your pleasure.

You dig your nails into his back. His hand works faster and faster, and in between whispered curses and pleading prayers you find your release.

Through the haze of your high and waves of bliss, you’re vaguely aware of Paul’s belt buckle falling to the ground, somewhere. In the tangle of roaming hands, messy hair and skin plastered with a thin sheen of sweat, Paul’s shirt buttons come undone — likely by your doing — and your own soaked underwear gets lost in the dark — definitely Paul’s doing.

However, you’re very aware of every inch of Paul as he slides himself into you, your name falling from his lips like a prayer over and over again.

“You’re doing so good for me, my star,” Paul sighs into your ear, his hips flush against yours, fully inside. “You’re doing so well.”

With every thrust of his hips, you welcome the feeling of fullness as your nails rake down his back, leaving delicate red marks and half-moon indentations. Every push, he reaches a deeper part of you, his hands guiding your hips to meet him again and again, goosebumps covering your skin at his feverish touch.

Through half lidded eyes, you see his silhouette in the dark, tousled dark curls haloed by a sliver of light from the doorframe, strong shoulders and toned arms keeping you pressed against the wall even as his hips stutter in his desperate rhythm inside you.

He falters and you feel him twitch, consequences be damned, as he sinks completely inside you, hands bruising your hips and voice groaning as his own release catches up to him.

He looks almost holy this way, completely undone inside you, and whispering your name as if it can save him.

(Maybe it can.)

[narcosfandomdiscord]

narcos fandom smut alphabet - finished!

you know what goes really well with summer sunshine and narcos tv rewatches? SMUTTY FIC!

(they put that bisexual lighting on Isabella for a reason, after all!)

this was our first month of prompts over at @narcosfandomdiscord! for every letter of the alphabet, we had two smutty prompts that fanfic writers used for inspiration. 🥰 our group ambition was to create at least one fic per letter—26 new narcos smut fics during the month of July—and we totally smashed it, in large part thanks to prolific work from @salt-is-a-terrible-currency. happy reading!

if you prefer reading on ao3, check out our collection. all fics tagged as #nffalphabet on tumblr. and it's just that simple 🥰

if you have any questions, you can message us on tumblr or join our narcos fandom discord here!

🍰 Prompt List & Fic Masterlist 🍰

July 1 — A — angry sex, anal

Right For Once by @drabbles-mc — Steve Murphy x f!Reader, angry sex, 2.3k

Infuriating by @salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, angry sex, 1.5k

Our Man In Mexico by @hausofmamadas — Horacio Carrillo x Andrea Nuñez, angry sex, 2.5k

July 2 — B — blood, bound & begging

Final Warning by @purplesong1028 — Amado x Pacho, bound & begging, 490

Please (with your finger) by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, bound & begging, 1.2k

blood on vacation by @ashlingnarcos — David Barrón x f!Reader, blood, 1.8k

July 3 — C — cuffs, choking

If I go too far by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, choking, 737

mentirosos by @narcolini — Kitty Paez x gn!Reader, cuffs, 1.1k

July 4 — D — domesticity, “don’t make a sound or they’ll hear us.”

Taking Care by drabbles-mc — Diego Ramirez (Narcos OC) x F!Reader, domesticity, 2.1k

Lipstick's smudged by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, domesticity and “don’t make a sound or they’ll hear us", 447

A Few Moments by @purplesong1028 — Miguel F��lix/Pacho Herrera, “don’t make a sound or they’ll hear us", 482

July 5 — E — edging, eldritch

The first time I felt a ghost by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, eldritch, 716

July 6 — F — fight or fuck?, friends with benefits

No relationship talk by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, friends with benefits, 422

Unbroken Rules by drabbles-mc — Horacio Carrillo x f!Reader, friends with benefits, 2.9k

July 7 — G — gag/gagging, gun play

Paper-thin walls by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader, gag/gagging, 361

Whatever He Wants by purplesong1028 — Amado Carrillo Fuentes x Miguel Félix, gun play, 416

July 8 — H — honor bondage, hatesex

Dress blues by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader x Gurney Halleck, honor bondage, 1.8k

THE DISTANCE BETWEEN US by hausofmamadas — Enedina Arellano x David Barrón, honor bondage, 2k

July 9 — I — infidelity, in public

Never meet your heroes by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, in public, 955

Don't Mention It by drabbles-mc — Javier Peña x f!Reader, infidelity and in public, 2.7k

No Strong Suit by purplesong1028 — Miguel Félix x Pacho Herrera, infidelity, 439

July 10 — J — jealousy, "just shut up already"

Unprofessional by drabbles-mc — Walt Breslin x f!Reader, jealousy, 4.3k

A bad idea by @artemiseamoon — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, jealousy, 2.3k

The ring by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, jealousy, 1.1k

July 11 — K — knotting, knocked up

Which time? by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, knocked up, 418

Secrets in the night by artemiseamoon — Horacio Carrillo x Original Female Character, knocked up, 3.5k

Someday When It's Over by drabbles-mc — Horacio Carrillo x Original Female Character, knocked up, 2.8k

July 12 — L — luxury, lingerie

Eres guapa by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, lingerie, 544

Desire by artemiseamoon — Enedina Arellano x Original Female Character, lingerie and luxury, 3.9k

Round-trip Ticket by drabbles-mc — Steve Murphy x Original Female Character, lingerie, 7.7k

July 13 — M — mirrors, "make me forget (all about him/her/it/them)"

Another brick in the wall by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, make me forget, 812

Favors Owed by drabbles-mc — Maria Elvira x gn!Reader, make me forget, 2.7k

Like Old Times by artemiseamoon — Judy Moncada x Original Female Character, mirrors, 1.4k

July 14 — N — nipple play, "no one does it like you"

No One Like You by drabbles-mc — Javier Peña x f!Reader, no one does it like you, 2k

Sore by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, nipple play, 580

July 15 — O — on all fours, one night stand

Cascade by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader, one night stand, 580

July 16 — P — praise kink, pulling hair

Dress blues, pt 2 by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader x Gurney Halleck, praise kink, 404

July 17 — Q — quiet (or trying to be), quickie

Sweet, sharp, addictive by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, quiet (or trying to be) and quickie, 464

July 18 — R — role reversal, ruined

Bad Guy Treatment by drabbles-mc — Steve Murphy x f!Reader, role reversal, 3.8k

What is she to him by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, ruined, 444

July 19 — S — submit, "say my name"

Stoke the flames by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader, submit, 387

July 20 — T — trapped together, tied up

On company time by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader, trapped together, 574

July 21 — U — upper hand, underwater

The Weight of It All by drabbles-mc — Walt Breslin x Sal Orozco, underwater, 2k

he keeps his rules. you keep him. by ashlingnarcos — Horacio Carrillo x gn!Reader, upper hand, 1.1k

Polkadots by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, underwater, 359

July 22 — V — virginity (loss or roleplay), video

Off the Backburner by drabbles-mc — Steve Murphy x f!Reader, virginity, 4.1k

In this moment of pretend by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, virginity roleplay, 435

July 23 — W — "we probably shouldn't do this", worship

Stay A Little Longer by drabbles-mc — Horacio Carrillo x f!Reader, "we probably shouldn't do this", 1.5k

Lunch break daydream by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader, "we probably shouldn't do this", 497

July 24 — X — exhibitionism, exes having sex

It's complicated by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Helena, exes having sex, 971

Not Yours Anymore by drabbles-mc — Steve Murphy x Original Female Character, exes having sex, 3.2k

no witness by ashlingnarcos — Walt Breslin x f!Reader, exes having sex, 2.4k

July 25 — Y — yearning, "you look good like this"

Superman (4) by @garbinge — Javier Peña x f!Reader, "you look good like this", 5k

Lost Time by drabbles-mc — Horacio Carrillo x f!Reader, yearning, 2.9k

If he closes his eyes by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, yearning, 442

July 26 — Z — zipper, zeal

Things Like That by drabbles-mc — Danilo Garza x f!Reader, zipper, 2k

Zealot by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader and Nathan "Cable" Summers from Deadpool x f!Reader, zeal, 4k

(note: we hit the link limit on this post so from now on, links will be to fics + to authors on their first appearance.)

[salt-is-a-terrible-currency]

You're my port in a storm, chapter 11

Fandom: Dune

Pairing: Gurney Halleck x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings*: graphic depictions of violence, past slavery, heavy angst, comfort, politics, eventual smut, religion

*this is the general warnings for the fic as a whole, I'll add any chapter specific warnings to the beginning notes of the relevant chapters over on AO3

Tag list: @ohsnapitzmarvel @captainpoopweinersoldier @nightonblogmountain @futurewife @peterfrauchen

I've had a very big and emotionally + physically difficult 6 months. I'm glad to be posting again.

Excerpt

It’s impressive, how someone as large as Gurney manages to sneak up on someone as skittish as you.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he gruffs. You jump, almost dropping your stack of fresh bed linen. He watches you closely, brow furrowed and seemingly unaware of the fact that he’s just scared you again with his sneaking around in the corridors of Castle Caladan.

Finish on AO3

[lowtaperfeyd]

Navigation

Hello!

I’m Jay and I write. Primarily I’m interested in Dune and nothing else. I have read the six main books written by Frank Herbert and a few by Brian Herbert. I’ve also seen all the movies. I will take gladly requests to write for

•Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen 🤭 •Paul Atreides •Duke Leto Atreides •Lady Jessica •Duncan Idaho •Gurney Halleck

I do not write smut though.

requests:closed

✨masterlist✨

[dunefeather]

Hi! Here i am again 🙈 i would love to make a request for a Gurney x reader imagine! The reader and Gurney love eachother but haven't told the other yet. Gurney is hessitant because he is older and reader is hessitant because their past relationship was not so great. So maybe Gurney comes back from a fight hurt and the reader takes care of his injuries, they talk and finally confess their love for eachother. Some smut at the end please!😊 Hope everything is alright!

Here it is ! Thank you for requesting ! 😊

Secret Unveiled (18+)

Gurney Halleck x F!Reader

Content : smut, protected sex, medical exam, love confession, mutual pining, friends to lovers, age gap, fluff, angst.

Gurney Halleck is no stranger to you and this little light in your eyes each time you welcome him in the infirmary, whatever the reason. It was simple for him to find some explanation : a guard hurt during his duty, he happened to walk nearby and decided to visit you, or a quick meeting with the staff to ask for any improvement needed.

This man is proud of his missions and achievements throughout his life. To be fair he is even pretty satisfied with his ability to keep himself in shape despite his age. Of course years are showing but he keeps discipline and physical condition at heart. He is respected, listened to. Sadly he doesn't have anyone to share his life with. He may not be the most romantic soul of this castle - and would never equal Leto Atreides' level around Lady Jessica - but his loneliness had started to take a toll and it got worse around you.

"The day you tell me you trained with live ammunition I won't even be surprised," you sigh, "I guess this soldier was upset for some reason ?"

It's hard to focus around you. Gurney feels ashamed of this attraction he feels whenever you come into his eyesight or - even better - when you get to touch his bare skin to heal him. A part of him wants to show off around you but is afraid of crossing the line that would condemn him to being seen as a creepy old man. With all his experience and years of restraint and sacrifices in many aspects of his life he should be able not to shudder at soft feminine hands on his bare chest. He is no longer the young soldier that could have an excuse of falling for the first cute nurse he sees after a traumatic accident.

"No live ammunition I promise," he chuckles, "not as long as you could do much worse as retaliation."

"I don't know who would have to fear this the most, you or the idiot that would have accepted to obey that kind of orders."

It feels good to have someone to share a few laughs despite the bruises your are examining. He likes your stern eyes.

"I hope you would take care of that idiot then, there are days where teaching them not to listen to everything they hear is more difficult than others." He admits.

"So they have to learn to obey at everything but at the same time to anticipate what could get them into troubles ?"

"Of course."

Gurney tenses up as you push him gently to seat onto a table, a few shameful thoughts crossing his mind as you make him lean backwards a little to take care of some wound. You are standing there in your white dress, face invisible as you are leaning towards him. He hopes he lost enough blood during that stupidly dangerous training not to show you any unexpected excitement down there.

"I am going to apply some balm on your belly and ribs." You mumble before walking to the right. "some serious bruises that are going to get pretty painful if we don't do anything."

He wants to show off so badly. Humour will help him to get more comfortable and stop thinking about inappropriate details.

"You can tell me if you want to touch you know," he jokes with a cocky tone, "enjoy it for as long as I still have a body."

"Then spread your legs Warmaster instead of bragging." You chuckle as you come back at the spot right in front of him. "I need room to treat your silliness."

Shit. You're not making things easier do you ? Gurney decides to look up at the ceiling, his knuckles turning white as he grabs the corners of the table firmly to distract himself from your insanely close presence. He'd love to have a beautiful girl like you bent over that same table, or even better in his bed. How many times he came back to his quarters like a stray dog beaten up by strangers and only wanting some kind touch in a safe place ?

He swallows hard as he spreads his legs for you to get closer, and attempts to think of something else than his inexistent sex life. He's a grown ass man, he can deal with a cute nurse with no problem. Yes but with an interesting cute nurse that's different.

"Do you want me to give you some painkiller? You look like much more in pain than when coming in." You ask with worry clear in your voice when you rest your hand on his forehead. "Do you have any other injury ?"

"Not that I know of," he replies.

"Mh. Adrenaline must have been erased by your body now, you should feel any wound that could have escaped your attention."

"I'm fine. Old man joints."

You snort at this and he regrets the precise moment when you remove your hand from his forehead.

"Gurney, you are not that old," you scold him.

Your head is lowered to the area around his belly now covered with bruises. It's certainly his imagination but the way your fingers hold that tissue covered in transparent balm over his skin feels sensual to him. The cold substance sends chills down his back. Slow circles, very little pressure... and that low wet sound feel all too good despite the slight pain.

"I am that old. But thank you for denying the truth." He whispers.

"Nah. Look at you. Still a healthy Warmaster able to resist a mine with no major problem."

The softness of your gaze is hypnotizing as well as this grin. He had always heard that younger women were a danger to weak minds and he has to admit that more than that you are the only one weakening him that way.

"I had a special protective outfit on and the mine was disfunctional."

"Still. That's quite impressive."

"You wouldn't have said that if I had lost a leg. You would be screaming at me."

"I'd be crying you mean." You say with an offended tone as you lower the tissue to right above his waistline. "No way I let you get rid off your old man joints like that as you call them. I'd do it expertly without any pain."

He shouldn't laugh like that and soon enough he regrets it as his belly hurts all too much for his comfort. You stop applying the balm and grab his bare shoulders themselves covered with bruises here and there. He likes you what the hell can he do against that fact ?

"So I have old man joints." He taunts you as you cross your arms.

"Oh shut your mouth and stop being silly," you smile brightly, "you are lucky it's a small day or I'd have kicked you out of this infirmary a long time ago. You are a strong old man fully capable to overcome big bad bruises."

He wants to kiss you hard, to taste your lips and the saltiness of your skin on your throat. How blessed must have been the men that were part of your past. Having you saying their name with a panting voice must be a delight.

How long has it been since the last time he saw a naked woman ? Especially one like you ? As young as you ? He forgot how satisfying and beautiful it looks, with a face still relatively innocent yet capable of those feline stares.

"Are you hurt anywhere else ?" You ask sheepishly before turning around to walk hastily to your first aid kit.

Uncertain, he pounders whether or not he should tell you. He doesn't know what that balm could do to his sensitive parts. After all they don't hurt anymore. But after all you are a nurse, and humor sounds like something perfect to deflect any uncomfort between you.

"Hm... well I felt some pain down there as I fell onto a rock." He admits with a grimace as he remembers the atrocious pain it sent throughout his body. "But I'm doing better. Don't worry about it."

"Are you alright ?" You ask with an embarrassed grin. "I can check if you feel like it could have gotten wounded. Did your outfit get opened under the shock ?"

"Maybe. I don't know, I wasn't really thinking about my outfit at the moment. And I know... well last time you talked about a guy you appreciated so I don't want to make things awkward if you come to talk about the Warmaster's crush nuts to him."

He is ashamed at how impatient he is to get your answer, and at how proud he is as you chuckle and release the tension of your shoulders.

"Don't worry I take care of my patients' privacy. And that guy is part of the past anyway. Like all the others."

The faint crack of your voice make him both guilty and happy. Of course everything had to end up with those idiots. They don't deserve you. Honestly he does think he does, but you must have other goals in your life.

"I'm sorry for you. You sounded like you appreciated him at least a bit."

"I did. But you know how the soldiers are when they see a nurse taking the role of their mother when they were little kids." You laugh as you shake your head. "They get attached, make you hope a lot with the bright light in their eyes and... well they are adults so they have different priorities than children and suddenly it's not the maternal side that interests them and... and they leave."

How can anyone treat you like shit like that ? That brief sadness and uncertainty over your face shouldn't exist. It makes him angry, it's as simple as that.

"You are a wonderful woman they would run up to the day we get at war." He grumbles with a stern look. "They are cowards that think of themselves as more important than they are. The day you meet someone deserving your attention you'll know it."

"Thank you." You smile softly as you rub your thumbs against each other. "But don't worry about me."

"You are charming. I'm pretty sure you already have all the men at your feet trying to seduce you."

"If they could be as interesting as you are it would be much better."

"I beg your pardon ?"

It's unbelievable how little it takes to make him feel as light as a feather despite his exhaustion. A boyish grin forms on his lips as he witnesses you all flustered but trying to stand your ground.

"For an old man you are interesting. Don't get too confident." You half scold him with a huge smile.

"It's good to know. Finally you acknowledge that you can tolerate me."

"Of course I tolerate you, it's even nice of you to visit us so often."

"How could I not to when there is the most beautiful nurse of this planet right there ?"

"Stop it I swear." You laugh out loud.

"You are pretty attractive I would be a liar of I pretended the opposite. If I were a young soldier I would fall in love, not use and throw away as they do."

"Well... I don't consider you as old. So I guess you are young enough to fall ?"

"I'm still young enough for this." He confirms.

You are a bad actress pretending to look for something but It's so good to feel that ego boost after a depressing morning.

"So," you start again with a low voice when you turn around, "does it hurt ?"

"Yeah."

"Do you need some medication ?"

He nods and the nibbling on your bottom lip activates something on him. Not enough to harden at the mere thought of you seeing his manhood, but enough to convince h that he won't be able to repress his body instincts for long.

"Stand up and take your pants off please." You instruct as you get another tissue ready.

His heart is pounding and his boots reach the ground, his calloused hands undoing his black belt to keep it open around his waist. He feels that electric shock so maybe it wouldn't be a useless exam.

"I'll have a look and tell you whether or not you need a fecundity test, it could have affected your..."

His eyes don't leave the back of your head and he grins at the slight jolt you have when his pants reach his ankles, the metallic sound of his belt reaching the ground making his state obvious. His black boxer is the only thing separating his private parts from you and it's thrilling.

"Well. Let me see. Describe the pain."

You turn around and walk up to him, hesitant eyes glaring at his confident ones.

"Electric shocks in my testicles under some motions." He states calmly. "I got it at my penis as well but I don't have any pain."

"Do you still feel them ?"

"I do."

"Alright. Lower your underwear."

Gurney loves the way your eyes widen so subtly as they lower on his manhood. It sends a pleasing warmth in his belly, his hips ending up. You like what you see.

It gets even better when you kneel down, a pair of rubber gloves on his thighs to make him spread them. Your head is only made of hair from his point of view, and really dirty things start to find a way to his mind.

"You have a pretty bad bruise on your right testicle, up to your waistline." You say breathless.

"No wound ?" He purrs ?

"No wound."

His eyes close by themselves as he knows he is fucked the second your hands start to press his balls slowly. Really precise circles at some spots. His pubic hairs react at the goosebumps your touch create, and he gets ecstatic at how well you manage to keep your voice still despite his erection starting to show and his balls still holding the seed he has dreamt of making you swallow for months.

"The left one looks correct." You say absentmindedly.

"I'm sorry for... you know." You says with a smile as he stares at the wall before him.

"It's natural." You chuckle. "It's... all natural... may I touch it ?"

"Yes."

He silences the moan forming in his throat as his feels the rubber pressing his hardening shaft. It has nothing to do with masturbation, he does understand you are testing his sensitivity but by the Gods it feels both frustrating and relieving.

"Is it alright ?"

"More than alright." He whispers.

Fuck it if that makes him look like a pervert. He is tired of pretending you don't arouse him. He hasn't had sex in an eternity, the girl of his dreams is there after a mine explosion that could have cost him so much more than a pubic exam. He is not complaining.

"A bruise there." You say quietly as your finger brushes up the right side of his shaft. "All the way up to the tip, it follows the vein."

Gurney swallows hard as you keep caressing the same area a dozen of times, much more than necessary until his erection rests on his belly. You get up, your hand still brushing this side and your eyes demanding his attention with a clear desire lightening them up. He want to fuck that pretty mouth, to claim you as his from behind, to taste your wetness.

"Is it misplaced to desire you as much as I do right now ?" He asks as you let him cup your face.

"Do you actually think you are the only one having such thoughts ?"

Your thumb now circles around his tip, your hand wrapped around his warm and throbbing flesh. It does hurt a little due to his bruises but he isn't complaining.

"I'm flattered you think of me this way." He admits as his hands go down to the thin skin of your neck.

"Do you think of me as... some fresh flesh, or as... more ?"

It's enough to make him grab your wrist at the sudden heavenly sensation threatening him to come already. He can't let himself do that despite how tempting it is under your now playful smile.

"More. Definitely as more." He whispers as your thumb keeps on taunting him.

"Are there... feelings ?" You ask with begging eyes.

"There are feelings. Yes there are feelings. Strong ones. They've been there for a while."

Gurney doesn't let your kiss go as soft as you intended it to be. He devours you and you follow his guidance faithfully until feeling his tongue against yours, his chest covered in balm staining your white dress as his strong arms press you against him. You are burning too, fully reactive to the tension eating him up from the inside.

"I need to..." you whisper breathlessly.

Your sentence gets cut off as he lifts your dress up to your waist then forces you to sit on the table, them takes the fabrics off. His lips are busy kissing and nibbling your neck, his hands conquering any spot of bare skin available.

"Gurney fuck I need some protection I can't... I can't do it like that..." You whisper desperately as your bra gets tossed to the ground.

"You're magnificent." He groans before sucking on your right breast avidly.

He loves how eager you are to give yourself to him, he wants to feel you come undone under his hip thrusts. He wants to claim you as loudly as possible so any other nurse or doctor in the other rooms can hear you. Oh yes how hot it is to make them know when he will make you shake with pleasure.

"Gurney please I..." You moan as he attacks your other nipple.

How greedy your hands are as the explore his toned body. He is clearly not old enough to disgust you despite what he was afraid of. You are starving for good time like he has been, welcoming his body and feelings completely.

"That's why I love you, always so perfect." He purrs before starting to leave a mark on your throat.

Your bare legs wrap his waist firmly as he feels your arm looking for something, opening a plastic or something similar as his thoughts go completely blank at the mere anticipation of filling you up. Then he sees a white color flashing on the side and leaves some room between your crotches.

The time you insert your own protection inside you he leaves a trail of sloppy kisses on your chest, his hands massaging your breasts.

"Go inside." You whisper.

You are exactly as tight as pictured in his dream from a few nights ago, your warmth swallowing his thick shaft relatively easily. Your protection is not as wet as your core yet, but it's only a matter of seconds the time the lubricant spreads at his thrusts. He stares at your clouded eyes with authority, a hands grabbing your nape as he gets deeper and deeper, your shaky exhale turning into a sensual moan.

"My beautiful." He mumbles before pressing his balls against you.

"Gurney." You squeal with your hand in his hair. "Please my love please."

The first stroke is both slow and brutal, his forehead against yours.

"Repeat."

"Please my love," you whisper.

He thrusts out then in.

"Again."

"Please my love," you moan.

It's good to have you now moaning in his mouth, his hand on your bare breast, his cock pounding inside you. He is no fool, he knows anyone right outside the room can hear you, even listen to you if they wanted to. But that's perfect. Make them know you are calling him, the Warmaster, "my love." Make them hear it again and again.

He clenches his teeth with his forehead on your shoulder as he watch a breast bouncing at the corner of his eye, his climax so close. Any woman would have driven him crazy after such a long abstinence but you are making it so much better.

The second he forces you to look at him he knows it's over for you. Your eyes rolling, your body exposing him your breasts even more, the sensual loud moan leaving your lips, your sex clenching around him... you are cumming hard and don't care about how hot you look to him and how hard he ejaculates in you, weeks of seed filling you up and dripping on the table as he pulls out.

- - - -

Thank you for reading please comment and reblog if you liked it ! 😊

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

hey did you write a multi chapter gurney halleck fic? or did i dream that and if you didn’t do you know any good ones?

Nope, just one really long one and some smut

I honestly haven't had time to read fic for a while. Does anyone have any recs for nonnie?

[vashsgirl]

Locked out of heaven!

Gurney Halleck x reader

A Drabble!!!

Fluff!!! (When I get better at writing smut I will make a smut version of this)

A/n: Ahhhh! MY BOY GURENY IS SO UNDERRATED ITS SAD!!!

You are sitting on the couch of your apartment reading a book while having the record player running your favorite record to listen to while you relax.

It has been a few weeks since you had been on Arrakis with your lover Gureny. It was a somewhat peaceful life on this sand planet but it isn’t what you excepted.

It was always so quiet and nothing really to do other than to read and have time to talk with Lady Jessica about your day or what you have been working on.

You hear the door open and see Gurney walk into the living room. You sit your book down on the table next to you as Gurney pulls you to lay down on your back while he lays on top of you with his head in your neck.

“Darling?” You ask with worry laced in your voice and he grumbles.

“Can I just lay here?” He asks with his voice low and you smile.

“Absolutely my love.” You giggle while your hands go through his hair.

You start to hum along with the song that is playing around your home and within 30 minutes of laying there and playing Gurney’s hair, you are accompanied with the sound of his snores. 

“I love you Gurney.” You whisper allowing to follow your lover to the land of sleep.

[rogue-durin-16]

BETTER LATE THAN NEVER

Summary: The House Atreides' time in Caladan is running short. With the bitter feeling of leaving home behind, and the need to make the most of the hours they have left together, Y/n and Duncan decide it's about time they stop dancing around their feelings for each other.

Pairing: Duncan Idaho x Reader

Genre: angst-fluff

Tags:

Duncan Idaho: @whovianayesha

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality

Warnings: language, make out, let me know if I'm missing on something

A/N: I'm testing the waters with this one-shot to see if Tumblr targets me again or if I can post the Duncan Idaho x Moritani!Reader multipart without being banned lmaoo.

Disclaimer! This is a work of fanfiction using characters from Dune, which belong to Frank Herbert. I do not own these characters.

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

I happened to be crossing the hangar on my way to the library —it was definitely not the shortest way in the Castle, but I was in desperate need for a walk—, when a voice I wasn't expecting to hear called my name.

"Hey, Y/n!" My heart skipped a beat when I looked over my shoulder and saw Duncan jogging in my direction.

I stopped walking and waited for him to reach me. "Idaho." I greeted him, spinning back once he was by my side. "I didn't know you were back."

"I just arrived." He responded, pointing at his ship, which we had left behind. "Is it true you're being sent to Arrakis?"

"I suppose so." Duncan furrowed his brows at my apathy while we walked out of the hangar. "Who told you?"

"Paul." I should have guessed it; that kid spoke to the swordmaster about everything. "You don't seem too happy," he observed. "Is everything okay?"

"You wouldn't be happy either if you were getting sent to that hellhole."

"I am getting sent to that hellhole."

I came to a halt in my walk due to his statement and rotated to him, dumbfounded. He, taken aback by my reaction, slowed down his stroll and waited for me to speak.

As the Duke's envoy, I had been given a list of names belonging to the people who would enter Arrakeen to secure it, and Duncan's name was not in there.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm leaving with the advance team tomorrow morning." He clarified, his brows furrowed at my lack of understanding.

"No, what— you're not on the list."

"What list?"

"The advance team." I grunted in frustration and, after peeking left and right, I pointed at the nearest door. Duncan understood what I was asking him to do and opened it for me.

Once we made sure it was empty, we both entered, partially closing the door to obtain some privacy without arising questions.

"Why the hell are you going to Arrakis?"

"Security."

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "Don't lie to my face. I just said you're not on the list."

This time, he seemed to give it a thought before responding. "Diplomacy."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not lying."

"We can't both be going on diplomatic missions." A part of me, the minuscule part that wasn't stressed out, held some hope that perhaps, Duncan and I were going together. We wouldn't have to say goodbye just yet.

"Hold on," there was something similar to hope in his eyes too, swimming among the confusion. "you're going to Arrakis because of the Fremen too?"

"What?"

"You said you were going on a diplomatic mission too." He came to the realization, probably by my expression, that I was in fact, not going because of the Fremen. "You're not. Okay what I just said was highly-"

"Confidential?"

"Yeah."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear it." I responded, to which he muttered a quick 'thank you'.

"What about you?"

I toyed with the silver ring on my middle finger, an anxious habit I had acquired. "I am to meet the Judge of the Change."

"Well, that's not too bad." Duncan's hand slipped into my view, gently separating my hands to stop my fidgeting. "Why the long face, then?"

I sighed. "Doctor Kynes is supposed to take me to the Harkonnen."

It took Duncan a moment to process that, but as soon as he did, he dropped my hands, stepping back.

"What?!" I shushed him, pulling him further into the windowless storeroom for the passerbys not to eavesdrop through the ajar door. "Are you going unprotected?" I nodded, unable to meet his gaze, for some unknown reason. "No way— the Duke didn't just—"

"Send me to die?" I finished, piqued, looking up at him. Bewilderment and worry were mixed on his face. "We need to ensure we won't be attacked." I added, trying to justify Leto's choice for the sake of the Swordmaster.

Silence.

"I can talk to him."

A frown of disbelief formed above my eyes. "No, you can't." He attempted to speak but I insisted. "You know you can't."

"They'll kill you to send him a message."

"Duncan." I raised my hands, signaling him to calm down.

"They're evil—"

"I'm the ducal envoy, it's my job."

"What? Dying?!"

"This is not my idea!"

A soldier opened the door, probably attracted by our yelling; we had drawn unwanted attention from outside.

"Is everything alright?" The man asked, his eyes going from Duncan to me, and back to Duncan. We both replied with a dry 'yes' and the soldier wearily left us alone.

We took that opportunity as a cue to head out too, considering the conversation closed. We were both exhausted —him due to the flight, and me due to the ceremony—, we didn't need to have a pointless argument.

We walked in silence until we reached the entrance of the meeting room, where we would part ways since he surely had to inform the Duke about his last mission.

"Are you coming to the banquet tonight?" He questioned before I headed off.

"Do I look like I'm in the mood to come to the banquet?" I sounded ruder than I had intended, but Duncan let it slip.

"I'll see you in the morning then." He gave me a small smile that I felt compelled to return, even if it was just due to the concern his own carried.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Knock knock knock

I would have loved to say that the knocking on my door woke me up, but sadly, it only interrupted my chaotic yet silent reflecting on my life in Caladan. The friends I made, the ones I lost; the turns my path took, the choices I made, the opportunities I turned down, and Duncan.

It always came back to Duncan.

"Coming!" I announced, getting up from my bed to answer the call. "bored of the banquet?" I questioned at the sight of a tired Duncan.

"Gurney's been playing the baliset for ages now." He looked over his shoulder, as if to make sure the Warmaster was not right behind him.

"Don't bitch about it," I warned. "he's really good."

"Not when he's drunk."

"Even when he's drunk." He quirked an eyebrow at me. "You're just jealous." I added with a snicker.

"Can I come in or not?" He inquired, already leaning into the room, balancing himself with one of his hands on the doorframe. "I brought ale." He half sung, lifting his other hand to show me a bottle.

I briefly pondered the request, and ended up finding a better option. "Actually—" I walked back into the room to put on a pair of boots and grab a jacket. "Let's head to the beach."

"You hate the beach." Duncan pointed out as I closed my room's door.

"Wrong," I replied, walking by his side through the halls. "I hate the rain."

"Bet it's raining." I could hear the cocky grin without looking at him.

"Bet it's not."

He tsked playfully. "You always back the wrong horse."

"Well if it's raining," I began, only to be cut off by him.

"We go back to your room?" I glared at him and he used the opportunity to wink at me.

"I'll use you as an umbrella." I corrected him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not only it was not raining, but the stars shone as bright as ever in the night, reflecting on the surprisingly calm waves of the sea.

We had installed ourselves with our backs resting on one of the beach's large rock formations. Us both had been sitting in peaceful silence for a while, sat on the cold sand, just enjoying each other's company.

Sometimes that's all we needed after a long day, just knowing that the other was there.

"I'm gonna miss this." I whispered.

"Me too." Duncan agreed before chugging on the remainings of alcohol left in the nearly bottle. "Maybe Arrakis won't be that bad." He added, his eyes fixed on the dark horizon, where the sea and the night sky seemed to meet.

"It'll be worse." He snorted at my response, starting a series of chuckles from us both. "I hope we see each other there to complain about the sun and the heat." My tone turned quieter and more serious.

I could feel his beautiful eyes sparing me a glance before he reassuringly stated, "I'm sure we will."

My head, which had been tilted up until now, facing the stars, shifted to meet his; like many other times previous to this one, I ended up being caught in the moment, mesmerized by the way he looked at me and through me.

If we locked our gazes for long enough, our orbs would inevitably fall on the other's lips, and that was the moment when we snapped out of it.

He was the one to avert his eyes, casting them down to examine the bottle resting between his spread legs, half buried in the sand due to his hand spinning it distractedly. "You think Kynes will be a good Judge Of The Change?"

I sighed, folding my arms over my chest while staring at my crossed feet. "I hope so."

"I wish I could go with you." He muttered, quickly adding a mildly anxious attempt of an explanation. "Not that I don't think you can't handle yourself—"

"I know what you mean." I interrupted him, a smile inevitably twisting up the corner of my mouth. "That's very sweet of you, but you have important matters to attend."

"Your safety is an important matter." He spoke those words like it meant something else, something more personal— and they did.

I stood up from my position and sat down right by his side, leaning on him, my head on his shoulder. Maybe it was the extra courage the booze had given me which made me do it, or maybe the fact that tomorrow we'd be leaving home forever with no promise of seeing each other again.

Instantly, his hand found mine to hold it, and his cheek fell on top of my crown.

We stayed like that, taking in the cold weather of Caladan for the last time, eyes closed and fingers intertwined, until a particularly cold blow of wind made us shiver.

"We should go inside" he whispered, to which I nodded, standing upright before getting up, this time to leave.

Duncan trailed after me, close enough for me to feel the warmth radiating from his body, and we walked through the dark halls of Castle Caladan.

We could hear the music, laughter and loud chatter coming from the Great Hall, even though we were far from the festivities.

The ambience had an ominous feeling to it, quite unsettling, but we both had resigned ourselves to it.

"I think I'm gonna head to the kitchens." Duncan mentioned.

"I'll come with you, I'm hungry." It wasn't a lie, but the sole reason for me to keep his company was the same he had; we were trying to make the most of it before the morning came.

We found our way to the kitchens, already empty with a single glowglobe floating in the middle, barely lighting up the quiet space, fuller with furniture and cooking utensils than with food.

"You know, when I was younger I used to sneak into the kitchens at night." I mentioned only loud enough for me to hear when we split to find sustenance of our liking. "One of the employees always caught me with my hands in the cookie jar— quite literally."

Duncan chuckled in amusement, our eyes briefly meeting through one of the pantry's empty shelves.

"Who would have thought." He began, circling an isle with a portion of pie on a plate. "Y/n Y/l/n, the diplomat, a thief."

"Shocking, I know."

"Now I understand why you have so easily stolen my heart."

I snorted at the comment, grabbing an apple and a spoon to pinch some of Duncan's pie. "That was sooo cheeky."

It was not the first time the Swordmaster made a comment like that, but I had never learned to control the shock that came with it, nor the butterflies in my stomach.

"You like cheeky." He declared with a playful grin, plopping down on a chair, and I had to resist the urge to respond 'no, I like you'.

"You can do much better than that." I said instead, sitting by his side.

"Not this late at night— hey!" He slapped the back of my hand with his spoon. "Go get your own piece of pie, thief." He snapped, moving his plate away from me when I went to grab a bite.

"You're a greedy fucker, you know that right?" I commented, my eyes squinted at him while I got up to do as he told me.

"And you" Duncan pointed at me menacingly with the spoon, his mouth stuffed with the pie. " Are a spoiled little shit." He riposted.

"My mom taught me sharing is caring." I countered, standing on my tiptoes to put down on the counter the pie's platter, which rested on the top of a shelf.

"I feel like your mother meant it for you to share." I heard Duncan's voice getting closer, and watched him lean against the counter with the corner of my eye while I chopped a slice of the dessert and put it on a separate plate.

"Who cares." I dismissed him with a wave of my hand, holding back a smile.

That kind of banter was nothing out of the usual; of course, it was always lighthearted, never malicious. We had crossed the line a couple of times, but it had been quickly followed by a genuine apology.

There was a brief silence that preceded a statement that would worsen the mood.

"I can't believe we're leaving." I left the spoon over the half eaten dessert and turned to Duncan, just to see him downhearted, his head casted down.

"Me neither." I gloomily replied, putting the plate aside, as I had lost all appetite.

I was about to add 'we'll come back one day', but fearing it coming off feigned, I took the way of actions instead of the way of words.

I pushed myself off the counter and walked to stand in front of him. I waited for his gaze to leave the floor and acknowledge me before wrapping my arms around him, pouring as much of my emotions as possible on that simple act.

His own arms wrapped around my waist, squeezing me tight and slightly lifting me up.

Once he let my feet come back to the kitchen's tiles, we pulled away, leaving an odd feeling floating in the air.

He sighed, gifting me one of those rare smiles of his, one that was not playful, cocky or teasing; one so soft and loving that would make anyone's heart melt, though it was stained with a bittersweet tinge that made me sad.

"We should go to sleep already." He stated, pushing himself off the counter.

I moved away so I wouldn't be blocking his way, but instead of following him, I stood in place, frozen by fear and heartbreak. The chance of seeing each other again felt slim, and that was scary.

We had been avoiding confronting our feelings for years now, years of friendship in which we both longed for more, but it had never been the right moment to act on it.

Thing is, there wouldn't be any right moments— in fact, there probably wouldn't be any moments at all.

"Y/n?" Duncan had come back into the kitchen, and he now stood near the door; I could feel his worry without even sparing him a look. "Is everything okay?"

I took a deep breath and stalked to the kitchen's entrance, shutting the door before taking a couple of steps back to be in front of him.

"This will haunt me if I don't do it." I stated, more to myself than to him, before gripping his shirt and pulling him down to me.

To my surprise, there was no hesitance from his side; on the contrary, he was the one closing the gap between our lips with a rushed, messy kiss.

I felt our teeth clashing while our hands impatiently pulled each other's clothes and arms in a panic-stricking, unthinking manner.

I unconsciously backed him until his back hit a shelf, making him grunt into the kiss.

"Sorry." I breathlessly mumbled between kisses.

" 'S fine." Duncan's hand patted my thigh, wordlessly asking me to raise it; I obliged, letting out a surprised gasp when he lifted me up, switching my mouth for my neck and collarbone, to plant open-mouthed kisses there.

My breathing turned heavy, my fingers tangling on his locks and my legs wrapped around his middle.

His lips came back to mines once he had sat me down on top of a counter; this time the kiss was less impatient, as we were relishing this little moment.

It was just the two of us; no leaving in the morning, no risky diplomatic missions, no saying goodbye.

But it couldn't last forever.

Slowly but surely, the heated kisses died down, leading to us reluctantly pulling away from each other ever so slightly.

"We should have done this earlier." I whispered, regret tinging my voice while my fingertips caressed their way down from his chest to his hands, resting on the counter at either side of me.

"Better late than never." He replied, flipping one of his hands to hold my own, resting on top of it.

Better late than never.

He, too, thought we wouldn't see each other again, and that took me into a whole new level of sadness— Duncan had always been the optimistic one.

"Hey," He called for my attention, softly bumping mi forehead with his. "It's just an expression." He cleared, almost as if he had read my mind. I looked up, staring at him through my lashes and I was met with that lovely smile again. "Once I find the Fremen, we'll meet in Arrakeen."

I nodded, letting a spark of hope bloom in my heart for the sake of us both. "We'll meet in Arrakeen."

"C'mon," Duncan pecked my lips and stood upright, pulling my hand for me to hop off the counter, which I did. "I'll walk you to your room."

"Didn't you want to stay in my room?" I teased, letting go of his hand to fix my clothes and hair.

He let out a shocked laugh. "Well I feel like we should get some sleep."

"Who said we're not sleeping, Idaho?" I gave him a side eye whilst walking to confirm that his cheeks had gone pink. "There'll be time for not sleeping once we meet again, right?"

He relaxed, a satisfied smile tugging on the corner of his lips. "Right." His fingers caught mines and intertwined with them as we found our way to my room.

We slept soundly that night, reassured by the thought that, even if we didn't meet in Arrakeen, we would know we had had the courage to act up before it was too late.

[manisca-rye]

I've now seen Dune twice in theatres, the first time in IMAX and the second in 3D ULTRAAVX and both times were beyond phenomenal and made me fall in love with this story and universe even more. I'll probably watch the movie a few more times just to take it in again and again.

I loved too many things about the movie to name them all but Oscar Isaac as Duke Leto (and that beard he was rocking) and Timothee Chalamet as Paul Atreides gave me inspiration for numerous fics that I will be trying to find the time to write over the next two years while waiting for part 2.

House Atreides 💚💚 "There is no call we do not answer. There is no faith that we betray."

Atreides! Atreides! Atreides!

[salt-is-a-terrible-currency]

You're my port in a storm, chapter 12

Fandom: Dune

Pairing: Gurney Halleck x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings*: graphic depictions of violence, past slavery, heavy angst, comfort, politics, eventual smut, religion

*this is the general warnings for the fic as a whole, I'll add any chapter specific warnings to the beginning notes of the relevant chapters over on AO3

Tag list: @ohsnapitzmarvel @captainpoopweinersoldier

@nightonblogmountain @futurewife @peterfrauchen

Hello, yes, I'm alive. Surprise surprise, life has managed to get even more hectic. On the plus side, chapter 13 is like 75% done since I ended up moving the last couple of pages of this chapter to chapter 13 or else this would've become unbearably long.

Excerpt

The knife slips in your grip again, narrowly missing your fingertips as you try to focus on the task at hand: cutting flower stems so that Moyra may use them for another cooking experiment. The task is much too menial to be able to distract you from the thoughts regarding this…new information you’ve received. You’ve never been a good decision maker. Or at least that’s what others have told you. ’You fret too much, you take too long to consider the choices’, that sort of comment has followed you for as long as you can remember. You’re inclined to protest though. Not everything should be rushed, least of all things regarding the heart. ‘He’s been waiting for you to take the first step’, Duncan’s voice echoes in your head. God above, what are you going to do?

Finish on AO3

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Requests

These are the characters I write for!

I also will do platonic pairings or poly pairings (no incest!), I won't do smut with minors! This is a list of romantic pairings, I will write platonic fics for anyone!

Dune

Paul Atreides

Leto Atreides

Duncan Idaho

Chani

Stilgar

Gurney Halleck

Feuyd Ratha

Marvel

Pietro Maximoff

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Thor Odinson

Loki Laufyson

Eddie Brock/Venom

Peter Parker

Logan Howlett

Erik Lensherr

Charles Xavier

Alex Summers

Matt Murdock

Johnny Storm

Steven Grant/Marc Spector/Jake Lockley

DC

Bruce Wayne

Clark Kent

Rick Flag

Jason Todd

Dick Grayson

Arthur Curry

Orm/Ocean Master

Baulder's Gate 3

Astarion

Halsin

Gale

Wyll

Karlach

Slashers

Thomas Hewitt

Brahms Heelshire

Yautja

Jason Voorhees

Peaky Blinders

Thomas Shelby

John Shelby

Alfie Solomons

Arthur Shelby

MW2

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

König

John Price

Jonny 'Soap' Mactavish

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

Ted Lasso

Ted Lasso

Jamie Tartt

Roy Kent

Dani Rojas

Isaac McAdoo

Sam Obisanya

Will Kitman

Resident Evil

Leon Kennedy

Chris Redfield

Carlos Oliveira

Heisenberg

Ethan Winters

Criminal Minds

Derek Morgan

Aaron Hotchner

Spencer Reid

Emily Prentiss

Stranger Things

Jim Hopper

Steve Harrington

Billy Hargrove

Eddie Munson

Supernatural

Sam Winchester

Dean Winchester

Jack Kline

Castiel Novak

Lucifer

John Winchester

The Walking Dead

Rick Grimes

Daryl Dixon

Glenn Rhee

Carl Grimes

Negan Smith

[salt-is-a-terrible-currency]

You're my port in a storm, chapter 10

Fandom: Dune

Pairing: Gurney Halleck x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings*: graphic depictions of violence, past slavery, heavy angst, comfort, politics, eventual smut, religion

*this is the general warnings for the fic as a whole, I'll add any chapter specific warnings to the beginning notes of the relevant chapters over on AO3

Tag list: @ohsnapitzmarvel @captainpoopweinersoldier @nightonblogmountain @futurewife @peterfrauchen

Excerpt

Elias leads the way up the hill, the old speeder putting along as it strains to make the ascent. You’ve been assigned the long morning walk today, wrangling 20 dogs into their harnesses and leashes before attaching them to the speeders and taking off along the scenic route around the lake dominating the space port. The sun is shining but it’s that sort of annoying warmth where you sweated on the way to the kennels, started freezing as soon as you got on the speeder, and no doubt will begin sweating again as soon as you begin to move.  Ahead of you, one of the dogs stumbles before falling back into an odd run. Then another and another until it becomes clear that something is amiss.

Finish on AO3

[dunefeather]

Hi! I have a Gurney halleck x reader request. Can you write a imagine were gurney comforts the reader after they wake up from a nightmare. After comforting the reader gurney "distracts" ( some comforting smut if that's alright ) the reader from the nightmare and they go back to sleep. Hope this is alright! 😊✨

Here is your fic !

All A Dream (18+)

Gurney Halleck x F!Reader

Content : smut, unprotected sex, husband/wife, comfort.

Please comment and reblog if you liked ! 😊

Nothing could be more comforting for your senses than your husband's arms holding you tight. After the flashes of terrifying scenes unfolding before your own eyes in your troubled sleep, Gurney's warmth and firm figure pressing you against him was the best sensation in the world. His heart beat steadily under your ear and convinces you that yes, everything was alright.

"Are you ok now ?" He whispered.

"I guess so." You mumbled sleepily.

"Good to hear, sweetheart."

His charming husky voice couldn't get beaten. It had this unique calming property. If Gurney Halleck was involved, there would be no problem remaining in a close future. You got lucky enough to share your existence with him and to be honest you don't know which god or spirit you should thank for this.

"There was fire." You articulated as you narrowed your eyes and shuddered. "Fire everywhere."

"Don't think about it little one, it's over. And a bad dream is only a bad dream. There is no need to torture yourself with your fears at night."

The nightmare morphed into some dark fog impossible to describe. You remember the night naive your heads, the screams, the warm colors haunting your peripheral vision. Soldiers absolutely everywhere, or at least dark figures with outfits similar to those of soldiers. Gurney was there, pressed against a wall.

"I hate that. I know you're safe here with me." You whispered.

Still laid against Gurney you looked down at his tired yet attentive face. Your poor husband deserved some sleep and peace instead of listening to your meaningless words. But are they ?

His sole presence was a gift and you caressed his temples and cheeks delicately, like to wipe the imaginary blood off his skin.

"My Lady," he scolded you playfully with a raised eyebrow, "I guarantee you that I am safe and real."

"I know. I know."

Anxiety was getting too strong for you to hold his gaze. Instead of trying to describe your dream in vain you hid your face against his neck, your arms tightening their grip around him right before he sat up, a stern face right before your distressed one.

"I am safe. I am here. Right here beautiful," he mumbled with a sly grin, "and still as deeply in love as at our wedding day. We are in our shared room, I am a happy man with his beautiful wife."

His hands rubbed your back up and down, fingers playing with your nightgown fabrics here and there. Guessing his thoughts, you started to eye his chest up and down but without much conviction. You appreciated his will to distract you from your ruined night but maybe it was too soon yet to get aroused.

"I don't know Gurney. I don't know if I'm ready for this." You whispered.

You still followed his motions, some of your reluctance erased by the kiss he gave you. Gurney was not the kind of man expressing his love as easily as you could. Not that he took at heart to hide his feelings or anything, he had a clear sensibility he felt comfortable with. However he was more the kind of man talking a little to you in public and holding your hand respectfully but making love passionately once in bed late at night, waking you up if necessary. You guessed pretty fast that your love language was essentially made of discussions in bed and sex. And you wouldn't dare to complain, it was perfect the way it was.

"You ? Not ready for that kind of thing ?" He whispered in a deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he started to squish your hips under your nightgown. "I can't believe it. You're always so wet before I can even reach our bed."

"Gurney," you chuckled as a faint protest, "I'm not wet on command."

"And what if I give you orders ? After all I'm Warmaster here, you should obey dutifully."

His soft voice was filled with seductive threats and you could only breathe in sharply when he started to kiss your throat sloppily, the flesh of your buttocks now an easy prey for his large hands.

"My love" you whispered with your eyes closed, "I don't think I'm in the right mood."

Gurney was used to have you lying on that matter. He loved it. He told you that after a tough day of hard work there was nothing better than a charming wife pretending not to get aroused while he could feel her into a moaning mess. Bonus point if you were wearing one of the maid or ambassadors outfits from other Houses you received as gifts throughout your career as an influential diplomat, but that was another story.

"You are always in the right mood, don't lie to me little one." He groaned before pulling you slightly up only to make you press his crotch with yours.

He moaned briefly then licked your throat up to your chin, your gasp muffled by one of his agonizingly slow deep kisses. Your fingers were kept busy with his short hair and his warm nape like it could make it possible to have him even closer than this.

"My poor little fennec fox." He started against your lips.

You nodded and stared at his eyes, your body moving at the rhythm of his slow hip thrusts trying - and managing - to stimulate you.

"My poor, poor, poor little fox." He added.

"I was scared." You admitted while snaking your arms around his shoulders.

Gurney's hand sneaked from your buttocks to your thigh to find its way to your entrance, his thumb finding out something that made him grin confidently.

"See you are in the right mood ?"

"I'm still not in the mood. Sir." You whispered.

"My girl using her best weapon now that she feels better I see." He purred next to your ear.

"I would like to feel even better than this." You complained before moaning loudly at the finger entering you to rub your insides coated in your juices. "Make me feel better."

His finger explored your pussy with slow motions, his open-mouthed kisses on your throat and cleavage almost enough to dissociate you from your own body. He knew very well how to get desired. It was too much for you and a few seconds later you were proudly naked in the same position, his eyes devouring you as he inserted a second finger in you.

"Now that's my wife."

For the first time tonight you chuckled, only to get interrupted by the sudden shift of the world around you. Lying on your back, you watched Gurney removing his black boxer between your spread legs, his eyes focused on your wetness.

"You're so handsome my love." You whispered to him with admiration.

Obviously flattered by your comment, he caressed your bare leg before lifting it up enough to be able to kiss the top of your foot up to your ankle while stroking his shaft with his other hand.

"And you, so hot." He commented before nibbling your ankle.

"I'm ticklish." You complained.

He folded your leg right above your belly, his dark eyes focused on yours that didn't share the same amount of consciousness as his. You were half gone somewhere else, completely passive and fully willing to make him do whatever he wanted to you.

And just like that, he thrusted inside you slowly, the both of his hands on either side of the mattress right next to your head, caging you effortlessly.

"Gurney." You called him before getting silenced by a kiss.

The first thrust was merciless yet not painful, his pulsating shaft back in the warm spot he left less than two days ago. Once inside, your husband remained there, looking down at your protesting eyes. Now his pupils were clouded, and not only drunk with carnal pleasure.

"I love you."

These three words made you blink in surprise, or maybe was it the start of his slow pace in and out of you. You could feel each inch of him rubbing your insides as well as a tiny amount of wetness getting out of you due to the friction. You tried to get your leg in a different angle but he blocked it with his strong arm, shaking his head left to right.

"No, do that instead."

You moaned as he folded your other leg, making it impossible for you to hold his hips the way you like to. His thrusts were getting deeper, his jaws clenched when looking down at your joined crotches and his hands keeping your legs open so wide.

"Let me." He grunted with a familiar authoritative glare.

Every year, new soldiers got to meet your husband. Many thought that due to his age he didn't know how to fight or was weaker than expected despite his impressive physical condition. They were wrong and learned it quickly throughout his combat skills. Each time you shared a passionate night you felt his experience especially when he decided to immobilize you or to change your position. He knew how to use it at his advantage.

You grabbed his wrist as he rested his large palm on your belly then looked at his clouded eyes as he kept pounding in you fiercely. What you wanted was to get so high in your pleasure that you would finally erase your nightmare from your mind. Seeing Gurney so much in control and willing to pleasure you was perfect.

"I know you're close honey," he grunted between two bed creaks, "come for me."

"Almost... almost there." You squealed.

After a few more hip thrusts you reached that climax you craved for, and welcomed how long Gurney made it last as he added some thumb rubs on your swollen clit in a nonchalant confidence suiting him so well after his own release in you.

"Does my dear Lady feel safer now ?" He asked with another kiss on your ankle, his heavy breath warming this spot.

"You have no idea." You laughed. "Come closer."

He obeyed, his sweaty forehead soon kissed by your lips as you let your hands rub his bare back and shoulders. This time you managed to wrap his hips with your free legs, letting your toes brush his thighs.

Gurney was here, relaxed, kissing you. He was safe and happy.

- - - - -

Thank you for reading, please comment and reblog if you liked ! 😊

[salt-is-a-terrible-currency]

You're my port in a storm, chapter 6

Fandom: Dune

Pairing: Gurney Halleck x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings*: graphic depictions of violence, past slavery, heavy angst, comfort, politics, eventual smut, religion

*this is the general warnings for the fic as a whole, I'll add any chapter specific warnings to the beginning notes of the relevant chapters over on AO3

Tag list: @ohsnapitzmarvel @captainpoopweinersoldier @nightonblogmountain @futurewife @peterfrauchen

Excerpt

You wake up to the blaring sound of an alarm and - with a startle - you realize that it’s not yours. Neither is this armchair your bed. Trying to ignore the way your heart starts up a frightened dance at the prospect of having fallen asleep away from the safety of your own chamber, you peer around you to take in your surroundings.

“Gurney?” you ask, catching the quivering tone in which it comes out. No answer. The alarm keeps blaring and with no small amount of willpower you hoist yourself out of the armchair and follow the noise through his quarters until you reach a door that’s always been closed during your visits. You raise a hand, knocking at it.

“Gurney?” you call again but receive no answer. Either he’s left or he’s in trouble. Still hesitant, you open the door.

Finish on AO3