#and then I was like wait I have many ideas

[katiexpunk]

Fuck Me, Fill Me

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader | W/C: ~4K | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: Accidents happen all the time — people fall, knives slip, condoms break. You spent years successfully avoiding one. Except things are different now, you're ready for more. Your husband Joel is more than happy to oblige.

Warnings: Joel has one mission in this one -- knock you the fuck up (if that's not your thing, kindly move on). Heavy on the breeding kink. No age gap is mentioned (make it your own). So much dirty talk. Fingering. Dry humping/grinding. Praise kink. Size kink. Unprotected P in V. Rough sex. Semi-public sex. Sex in front of a mirror. Multiple creampies. No use of Y/N, no use of daddy. TLOU au. Reader has no physical descriptions except hair (no type or color) long enough to hold on to. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: I have no excuses for this one except that I have Joel brain rot and baby fever. Shoutout to the Capital One Lounge at IAD for the idea. Written on a plane.

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Accidents happen all the time — people fall, knives slip, condoms break. 

It’s inevitable, really. A known fact of life. Call it Murphy’s law, bad luck, or just plain stupidity… 

You’ve spent the majority of your teens and 20s successfully avoiding an accident. 

If it can happen, it will happen your superstitious aunt used to say, and you were a believer. 

Lord knows you've had more than enough evidence in your life to back up her words. From the tummy ache after eating way too many cherries, to the conspicuous brown stain that ruined your pristine white blouse. A blister on your heel from shoes that were supposed to be 'broken in' but never quite were, and the painful crack in your skin that followed. Proof was everywhere, and you learned to expect the unexpected.

You hold tight to that belief, while Joel does the same to your hips, fucking you within an inch of your life in the airport lounge bathroom.

But how you both ended up in this position was no accident. 

++++

It never seemed like the right time—you had so much more to explore, achieve, and experience. Becoming a mother would complicate everything; at least, that's what you convinced yourself. You were content to rely on that little orange pill each day, despite its own set of side effects, because it kept your options open. 

You weren't sure you'd make a good mom anyway. Your own mother certainly wasn't a shining example, and you had no reason to think you'd be any different. You couldn't even keep a cactus alive—how could you possibly care for a child?

But something changed not long after you and Joel got married. Maybe it was maturity slowly finding its way in, like warm honey filling the spaces you once closed off. It softened you to the idea of chubby cheeks and tiny fingers, gentle coos, and quiet lullabies sung in the deep southern drawl that had become so familiar.

Initially, you weren't sure how Joel would take the news, but when you told him you'd reconsidered, his reaction was beyond anything you'd expected. He was over the moon, filled with an urgency you'd never seen in him before. It was like you'd handed him the key to his deepest desires, and he was eager, almost desperate, to turn it and bring new life into your world, yours and his.

He made it clear just how eager he was when he took you in his arms and twirled you around the kitchen in joy. Then, without missing a beat, he bent you over the counter, yanked down your jeans, and made his intentions unmistakably clear. He fucked his cum so deep inside of you that night that you felt the warm dribble of him the next morning. 

++++ 

Good things come to those who wait.

The words seem almost lifeless as they peer back at you, the paper they're printed on showing signs of age and Scotch tape keeping it glued to the break room wall above the microwave. The optimism they once held has faded, leaving behind nothing but cynicism and wear.

Yeah. Right. 

The shrill beep of the microwave snaps you back to the present, your shoulders tensing. You shake off your irritation, clutching the warm coffee that’s been reheated three times, its heat barely reaching the chill of your underlying pessimism. It’s a small comfort, but enough to soften the ache of disappointment that nags at you every month when hope fizzles out.

Back at your desk, you bury yourself in work, flipping through emails and juggling various applications. Headphones in, you’re almost lost in your own world when a notification on your phone pulls you back. It's your cycle tracking app, reminding you that you're due to ovulate in a couple of days. But wait—

No, no, no. You quickly count the days in your head, then scramble to open your work calendar. The schedule's a blur until your eyes land on the words "Work Trip: Jackson, Wyoming." They jump off the screen, almost mocking you. Looks like timing won't be on your side this month. Unless —

Would it be too ridiculous to change an entire work trip just so you could make love to your ridiculously hot husband, and let him fill you again and again? You think not, but you know your boss might say otherwise. 

You spend the rest of your workday figuring out Plan B. The irony is not lost on you that you’re seeking out an entirely different kind than you used to. 

++++

As you settle into the couch, your legs draped across his lap, he begins to massage the soles of your feet in that soothing way that sends a ripple of warmth up your spine. You can't help but glance at his side profile—the elegant slope of his nose, the chiseled cut of his jaw, and the effortless curls of his salt-and-pepper hair that rest at the nape of his neck. He's undeniably handsome, a sight that never gets old.

His touch spreads a slow heat across your skin, your stomach fluttering in response. It's always been this way—the world could be crumbling outside, but with Joel, in your shared cocoon, you feel entirely at ease, wrapped in safety and affection.

“You're really gorgeous, you know,” you murmur, almost too quietly to be heard. You swirl the wine in your glass and meet his gaze as you take a sip.

“Nah, that's you, sweetheart,” he replies with a wink, his touch transitioning to featherlight kitten caresses as his fingers trace a path up your shin. He's not trying to seduce you, not really,  but his touch and the intent gaze he holds on you are enough to ignite a slow burn under your skin.

You relax into the cushions, your head sinking back into the pillow, reveling in this moment. When he pauses, even for a second, you squirm, and he chuckles softly. “Such a needy little thing, aren't cha?” he teases, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he resumes his gentle strokes. “Mhm, sure am,” you hum, your eyes closing as you melt into the sensation of his skin on yours.

He slowly journeys upward, callused palms gliding along the smooth skin of your thigh, alternating between soft strokes and firm squeezes. Each touch seems to awaken a deeper need within you, and you're all too aware of the growing bulge beneath your calves, a silent but potent reminder of the desire simmering between you. It's enough to make you ache for him, crave his closeness, the kind of closeness only he can provide.

You lift your head, and he's already adjusting, his broad frame looming over you. He locks eyes with you as he takes the wineglass from your hand, placing it on the coffee table with care, then shifts his full attention back to you. You push your hips upward, meeting his, and he presses down just enough to make it clear that he’s in control, his body holding you firmly but without discomfort. You know he’s got you right where he wants you.

Your eyes meet his, and the intensity in his gaze leaves no doubt—this is happening. He props himself up on one forearm, his other hand tangling through your hair, his knuckles brushing against your cheek with a tender touch. He thrusts his hips into you with more urgency, his lips descending to capture yours, drawing out a soft moan from deep within you.

“Fuck sweetheart, feel what you do to me?” he groans, pressing his lips harder against yours. He tastes the wine on you, and your tongues intertwine, each movement slow but deliberate. You work your arms free from your sides and slide your hands into his hair, tugging gently, your nails grazing his scalp. The deep groan that escapes him tells you he's feeling everything—the pull, the scrape, the heat. It rumbles from his chest, reverberating through you, and it's intoxicating.

With your lips pressed firmly to his, he captures your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a teasing bite as he thrusts against you. The rough denim scrapes against your inner thighs, and he slots himself perfectly between your legs. His mouth leaves yours, tracing a path of soft kisses down your jawline, lingering at that sensitive spot just behind your ear before he pulls the lobe into his mouth. You moan, fingers tangled in his hair, while your other hand explores the broad expanse of his back, craving the feel of him, unable to get enough.

“Joel,” you whimper, his name almost a question on your lips. 

He doesn't pause, thrusting with just the right pressure, almost ignoring your plea. You move your lips to his shoulder and whisper, “I’m ovulating.”

That makes him stop. He props himself up on one forearm, his free hand on your ribs, his intense gaze locking onto yours. His eyes darken, pupils eclipsing the rich brown you know so well, and he groans deeply. Fuck. 

“Yeah, sweetheart? Mmm, big mistake telling me that, now I’m just going to pump you full of my cum all night, gonna fuck you again and again, keep you so full of me that it’ll have no choice but to stick this time.” 

You whimper at the thought, and his words go straight to your already wet core, your pussy fluttering around nothing, practically begging to be filled. 

You want him so bad, but right now, he wants you more — wants every part of you, wants to change you forever. His head dips back to your neck, and he's practically grinding into you, the pressure so intense it feels like he's already fucking you through your clothes. His beard rasps against your cheek, leaving a trail of red marks as he works his way down to your chest, hastily undoing buttons, uncovering your breasts, and teasing your nipples to hard, eager peaks.

It would almost be embarrassing how turned on you are right now if it were anyone but him, how easily he can fluster you, turn you into a babbling mess. 

“Well, not right now, but I am next —” you start to say, but quickly lose your train of thought as his whole hand comes down to cup your sex and the feel of his palm pressing against your dripping center. 

“Sorry darlin’, what was that?” He asks, doing little to hide the smug tone behind his voice, obviously pleased with the effect he has on you.

“I am next week, while I’m supposed to be in Jackson for work,” you manage to get out, the words coming out soft, a barely there thought, your attention mostly on the sensation of his thick finger that has now curled its way deep inside of you, your panties pushed to the side as they should never have been there in the first place, not with him in the room. 

“Come with me,” you ask, your words a tad breathless as he adds another finger to your dripping center, your slick coating them completely, and when he doesn’t answer, you’re not sure he heard you behind the haze of his arousal, the blood thrumming through his veins. Not that you can blame him, it’s so hard to fucking think, to breathe, to string together a rational thought that isn’t dirty when you’re together like this. 

“Gotta feel this pussy first,” he rasps, the words slightly muffled against the tenderness of your breast. His words sober you for a brief second, as you playfully push against him in protest. 

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," you laugh, and he can't suppress the goofy grin spreading across his face. He loves this—the playful banter, the way you bring out his lighter side, the perfect blend of passion and humor that flows between you. It's always been like this, effortlessly flirty, endlessly fun. You’re the perfect combination of sexy and cute, and better yet, you’re all his. 

“Alright baby, I’ll come with you, on one condition,” he says, adding a third finger, and the stench of him is intoxicatingly delicious, perfect, and intense in the best way. You already feel so fucked out, you’re not sure how he’s managing to find the will to set fucking conditions right now, but still, you humor him — 

“Conditions, huh?” You moan as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, the pads of his fingers grazing at the soft spongey spot inside of you that makes you see stars. 

“Yeah, sweetheart, conditions,” he says, nipping at your chin. “You’re gonna be the good girl I know you are and come all over my fingers, and then I’ll make sure that you’re full of me all week, whenever you want it baby, I’m all yours,” he rasps, his breath coming a bit more ragged now at the thought of your proposition and his. 

His fingers are still deep inside of you, he positions his wrist just right and brings the pad of his thumb to your clit. Your slick, combined with his filthy fucking mouth, and his thick cock pressed against you, creates the perfect conditions for the inevitable. He’s never not made you come, and you sure as hell know he’s not about to change that narrative now. 

If it can happen, it will happen. 

“Come on pretty girl, show me how pretty you come on your husband’s fingers,” he says, not really asking, but rather ordering in the tone that lights every nerve in your body on fire with arousal. 

The warmth in your lower belly spreads outward, wrapping you in a blanket of pleasure. Your limbs tingle, your vision blurs, and your toes curl as the intensity builds. For a split second, everything goes hazy, and you let go, surrendering to him completely. He takes control, guiding you through the waves of ecstasy, pulling you into a bliss that only he knows how to reach.

“So good for me, sweetheart. You are so perfect.” 

He makes you come once more soon after and then fucks you deep and slow. It’s all whispered praises in your ear, a firm grip on your hips, and his cock barely leaving your cunt before he’s slamming back into you, desperate to keep the tip of him as close to your cervix as possible. 

Come with me, you moan, and he knows exactly what you mean this time. 

“Shit, baby, I can feel you squeezing me, taking me so good —” his words break with a moan as you come for the third time, falling apart on his cock, before he adds “gripping me so goddamn tight.” 

His thrusts slow and he buries himself to the hilt inside of you, and paints your insides in thick ropes of cum, holding your gaze as he throbs inside, not daring to move and risk any of his spend coming out before he wants it to. 

He plants a soft kiss on your lips and tells you that you’re going to look even more gorgeous with his baby inside of you. 

++++

The delayed flight to Jackson was just another reminder of life's unpredictability.

What started as a simple 30-minute delay quickly turned into an hour, then two, and now you're both three hours past your original departure time. 

You find yourselves in one of the newer airport lounges, sitting in overly posh chairs. It's surprisingly uncrowded given the chaos that usually comes with airport delays. Your luggage is safely tucked away in the lockers, your bellies are full from the free snacks, and the irritation from earlier is fading thanks to the complimentary drinks. The ambiance is unexpectedly chic. Even the bathrooms feel upscale—private, enormous mirrors, fancy soap, and paper towels so luxurious they might as well be hand towels.

Joel is deep into a well-worn Western novel, its cover frayed and spine cracked from countless readings. You're scrolling through an article about the best positions for conceiving, smirking when you realize you and Joel have tried most of them, and then some. Just as you're in the middle of your read, your cycle tracking app sends a notification—you're at peak fertility, starting now. Have fun! ;) 

Shit. 

Who knows when you'll actually make it to your hotel room in Jackson tonight? You glance up from your phone, stealing a look at Joel. He's always handsome, but there's something about him in his glasses—the way the frames sit on the bridge of his nose, the slight furrow in his brow as he focuses on the words in his book. It's endearing how he still reads with such intensity, even though you know he's revisited these same pages countless times.

Your pussy flutters and aches at the sight, giving you a cheeky idea. He did say you could have him whenever you wanted. 

You clear your throat, hoping to pull Joel's focus from his book, but he doesn't seem to notice. You try again, this time a bit louder, and all you get is a distracted, "You okay, sweetheart?" without him even glancing up.

You know you’ll need to be more direct to capture his attention.

"I'm going to use the restroom," you say, and he nods, eyes still on the page. Once inside, you leave the door unlocked and hike up your dress, exposing your bare breasts. You pinch your nipples between your thumb and forefinger until they harden, then push out your chest, angling your smartphone for the perfect shot. The result is a provocative selfie that you know will make him put that book down.

You attach it to a message for Joel and quickly type out your request — come knock me up in the bathroom, Cowboy. 

He’s joining you in the bathroom faster than you thought he would, careful to avoid any curious eyes or draw attention to the fact that he’s about to absolutely wreck his wife.

Once inside, he locks the door behind him and grabs your waist, guiding you back until your hips hit the counter's edge. His hands roam over your body, lifting the hem of your dress until it's bunched around your waist. He kisses you with a desperate hunger, as if he hasn't had you in years.

"You sure you want to do this here, sweetheart?" he groans against your lips, shifting between playful nips, gentle kisses on your cheeks, and heated sucks at your jawline. The anticipation in his touch is palpable, but he's still checking to make sure this is what you want.

“Never been more sure of anything in my life except for the day I married you. Please fuck me, Joel, need to feel you stretch me out” you say, your words crossed between a whimper and a plea. 

God, just when he thought you couldn’t get any more perfect. 

“Yeah? My girl wants me to fill up her tight little hole,” he teases, already knowing the answer. He moves his hand to your dripping core and lets out a deep groan when he discovers you’ve already removed the barrier of your underwear for him. 

“Fuck baby, I’d do anything to taste you right now, wanna hear all those pretty noises you make and the way my name sounds when you moan it for me,” and you soften more under the heat of his words, letting your mind drift to thoughts of how good it feels when his head is between your legs, gently wringing orgasm after orgasm out of you like it’s his fucking job. 

“Gotta make this one quick, though. Can you be quiet for me, sweetheart?” He asks, and all you can do is nod. 

"Good girl—c'mere, turn around," he instructs, guiding you with his hands until you've spun around, your hips pressing into the sink. His hand travels down your spine, making you arch toward him slightly, and he bends you over even more. In the mirror, you see him behind you, his eyes locked on yours as he quickly unbuckles his belt and lowers his jeans to mid-thigh. The anticipation is electric as you watch him in the reflection, knowing exactly what's coming next.

He spits into his hand and jerks himself, all the while holding your gaze, admiring the way your breasts are pressed up against the counter, perky and perfect. His cock twitches at the thought of what they’ll look like all swollen and full of milk. 

He lines himself up against your wet and waiting hole, holds your hips steady with one hand, and gathers your hair in his fist with the other. He gently tugs it so your chin is angled up, eyes even straighter looking into the mirror. He loves watching you take it. 

“You’re gonna watch as I fuck you, sweetheart,” He rasps as he presses himself into you in one stroke. You’re so fucking wet, your greedy cunt accepts him easily, despite his size. Like it knows what it wants, and what it needs. There’s a dull delicious sting at the intrusion.

“Oh my god, Joel, you’re so bi—” You break off in a moan as he pulls out and then slams himself into you deep and hard. 

“God damn, look at you, my perfect fucking girl. Taking me so well, like this cock was made for you, huh baby?” His voice is firm, but quiet, just above a whisper. He’s not wasting time, he sets a punishing pace, and all you can do is let him use you. 

“Fuck me, fuck me, fill me, fill me” you cry out, and he brings his hand to cover your mouth. 

“What’d I say about being quiet, baby?” He holds you like that. You slip your hand between your thighs and rub your clit, a dangerous combination when he’s fucking you in this position. You come so fast that you think it might be a record. The tightening of your cunt has him on the precipice of his release.

“You’re fucking mine,” he growls, fucking his cum into you over and over, using every drop of him to give you what you want.

It might not stick this time, hell, it might not stick next time, but one thing is for certain — Joel will keep you full and fucked either way. 

END 

Reblog + Support Writers + Comment

A/N Continued: Thank you so much for reading! On a side note, my engagement here has been really low lately. :( As much as I'd love to say I don't care about the notes, I won't lie and tell you I don't need them for validation. If you like this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I'll love you forever.

Tagging some moots for visibility (lmk if you want to be removed if the subject matter isn't your thing. No hard feelings!) @endlessthxxghts @syd-djarin @auteurdelabre @morning-star-joy@theoasisofthings @chulopascal @morallyinept @sweetercalypso @xdaddysprincessxx @burntheedges @punkshort @pedrostories @bastardmandennis @milly-louise @ghostwritesthings @josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @survivingandenduring @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @ohheypedrito @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro @amyispxnk @paleidiot @ghostwritesthings @kulekehe @darkheartgatita @goldenhxurs @javiscigarette @ro-nahime-things @gwendibleywrites @missladym1981 @morgaussy

#joel miller smut #joel miler x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #breeding k1nk #joel miller the last of us #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal character #pedrohub #pedrostories #joel miller #joel miller fanfic

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Switching Teams - Lewis Hamilton

Dark fic - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS

Summary: Toto bad mouthing Lewis during the time he was still in Mercedes had led to a bitter ending but now Lewis wears red but there's something in him that feels like he needs to do more than just beat his old team on track. He needs to take something that Toto loves more than anything work-related

Wolff!reader - age 23 (Lewis will be 40 with the timeline of this so a 17 year age gap 😮‍💨)

Warnings/themes: Age gap, smut, loss of virginity, coercion, manipulation, corruption/innocence kinks

Part 2 here

In general y/n had never been very much involved in the work side of Toto's life. In fact she wasn't involved in much at all. Toto had always kept her as sheltered and in the shadows as much as possible.

That's what made her such an easy target for Lewis.

He'd not actually met her till she turned 18 and Toto seemed to deem that an acceptable age for her to finally debut into the world. Other than that she'd only briefly been spotted when Toto was home but he didn't even post the young woman.

At one point there was even accusations that he was trying to abandon and disown the young woman. Which is not true, her own mother left her and Toto has been raising her since before Susie came along.

Despite now being in her 20s and very much flirted with by many of the younger drivers. Y/n remains as innocent as someone who was homeschooled and not exposed to the world in such a way.

To Lewis' knowledge she always has a bodyguard after a kidnapping threat when she was younger and the world seemed to learn of Toto's riches, she's not really got any friends because of her homeschooling, she didn't leave the house much because of it and now she just sort of shops, has private workouts with a trainer and then on occasion attends races.

To Lewis' knowledge she's never had alcohol, she's never had a boyfriend and she's very much an innocent little angel who probably doesn't even know what trouble is never mind how to cause it.

When Lewis saw her this morning, she was actually just sitting on her own in the paddock. Initially he wasn't even going to say hi, but then an idea that would maybe finally settle the bitter anger he has towards Toto appeared. It's possibly best described as evil and Lewis definitely knows it's wrong, but there's no way the idea is that bad.

"Y/n, hello." Lewis greets with a smiles.

"Lewis." Y/n beams pushing her headphones down around her neck and greeting him with an excited hug. "I didn't know if you were allowed to talk to me."

"You're not really part of Mercedes. You're just associated with them." Lewis states earning a hum before she sighs and steps back from him. "Are you out here on your own?"

"Oh...yeah, well my dad told me I need to just stay out the way and I'm not allowed anywhere else-but I was going to go walk around the track."

"If you wait for me. I'll come with you. I won't be long." Lewis states figuring there's no point in second guessing it. "If you'll let me?"

"Yeah, I mean...I've got nothing else to do." She shrugs actually looking pretty happy that anyone at all is giving her the time of day. "I'll just wait here."

"Ok, I'll be back."

This might be far easier than he expected.

-

Y/n is quite a talkative person, probably because of her social isolation and dad who did actually spend a lot of her childhood pushing her onto other people to take care of her, meaning she'll latch onto anyone who will give her the time of day.

So when Lewis invited her to dinner later in the day, of course she jumped at the invitation.

Perfectly as he planned there was some online attention to the shared photos of her and Lewis walking around the track together. He obviously can't be certain that Toto has seen it but he's certain that the Mercedes media team will have seen it.

Since y/n is in the same hotel as Lewis. He doesn't have to go far to knock on her door since he is going all out and "picking her up" for the dinner.

The restaurant isn't far so he figures getting her from her room would only help him in his plan.

"Hey, wow. You look...gorgeous."

"I feel like I'm overdressed." Y/n laughs nervously then swallowing. "But I didn't know what to wear."

"It's perfect. Don't stress." Lewis dismisses making her swallow and smile a little. “I think you look beautiful and you are definitely not overdressed.”

"Thank you." Y/n smiles before she picks up her bag then leaving her room. "I had my dad asking all about you, you know? I didn't realise how much things had changed between the two of you since you left."

"That was his doing more than mine." Lewis states making her look at him for a moment and nod a little. "But we don't need to talk about that."

Y/n seems to take the hint but doesn't let it dampen her good mood.

They head out and sitting down, Lewis makes sure to be the gentleman. He's going to charm this young woman and he's going to make sure that y/n never doubts his intentions.

He has maybe also purposely chosen a slightly more public spot to make them easily found and photographed. This is very much a moment he wants rub in Toto's face without having to even speak to the man directly.

"You know, I've really never noticed just how gorgeous you are."

Y/n's face flushes with a heavy blush but she doesn't really comment about it, instead taking the welcome opportunity of the waiter appearing asking if they're ready to order and what drinks they'd like.

Ordering their food and y/n seems to be getting more and more nervous.

"So how is life in Ferrari?" Y/n asks trying to make conversation that doesn't feel so tense, at least from her side.

"It's good, I'm happy there. Sometimes I miss Bono and other guys in the team, but it's nice being in a new team too."

"I'm glad to hear it. I mean it's good to see you doing well again...as much as it's a shame that Mercedes has fallen so much from grace. It's really important that you're happy."

"I think I'm definitely getting there." Lewis confirms then sighing. "Anyway, enough about F1 and me. I want to hear about you, what have you been doing?"

Y/n being the talkative little bug that she is, she tells him all about her day. Telling him all about how she is spending her time, which is predictably still very much under Toto's control and limited to not doing much really.

She seems to travel around a bit more with the team which is actually quite interesting given her lack of travel with the team until this season.

"You know we should spend more time together if you're here more often-and if your dad stops inviting you. I speak from experience in saying that Ferrari is very welcoming to everyone."

"Yeah?" Y/n laughs clearly assuming he's joking.

"I mean it, I think red would suit you too." Lewis smirks as y/n's dessert is placed down.

"Red?" Y/n chokes out in shock over the suggestion.

"You don't like red?"

"I...well I've never worn red."

No red is too promiscuous a colour for someone like y/n. Light colours like pink and powder blue, white and pale yellows all fit her much better. He's not even sure he's seen her wear a dark wash denim.

-

Pictures of Lewis and y/n were quick to spread and when y/n steps into the paddock on the Sunday, there's a lot of eyes trained on her. Watching her closely while she slows her steps.

She'd been in a pretty good mood but the attention really isn't something she's so used to.

"Y/n, can we have a talk?" Toto asks seemingly calm, collected and casual as he spots his slightly distressed daughter stepping towards the unit.

Y/n finds herself guided to his office and almost feels like she'd got in trouble once with her private tutor.

"You went for dinner with Lewis last night?" Toto questions making her look at her dad for a couple beats almost not sure if he's asking or if it's a statement instead.

"Yeah, he wanted to spend some time together and I couldn't say no." Y/n smiles lightly since she actually had a really good time with Lewis and he's offered to do more things together which she's already accepted with an open invitation of saying she'd be up for anything.

"That's good." Toto smiles since he can never really be mad at y/n. She's actually too happy and sweet of a person to be mad at, but he certainly will be warning Lewis to keep away from his daughter. "I was going to ask if you want to be in the garage watching the race with Mick and I today?"

"Ok." Y/n nods since she's never got such an opportunity.

"Good." Toto smiles brightly then patting her shoulder.

-

Y/n actually really enjoyed getting to be a bit more involved with standing and watching the team. Mick even made the effort to speak to her and very kindly explained anything that seemed to confuse her.

"Lewis." Toto calls as he walks up to the Ferrari driver. "What do you think you're doing with y/n?"

"She didn't have plans last night and I thought she could use the company." Lewis smirks then raising an eyebrow. "Problem?"

"You've never seemed interested in y/n before."

"You seemed to always keep her away from then team when I was there." Lewis shrugs before smirking as he looks around Toto. "Speak of the devil."

Toto turns to find y/n walking towards them.

"Y/n, what are you doing?" Toto questions with a smile.

"Lewis offered to give me a ride after the race." Y/n smiles making Toto look at Lewis who has an expression which is just challenging the Mercedes boss to say something. "Is that ok?"

"Of course it is, right Toto?" Lewis smirks earring Toto's attention again. "You can trust me to get y/n home safely."

"Right." Y/n confirms then moving to Toto and lifting to her toes to kiss his cheek. "I'll see you at the next race, dad."

-

Y/n yawns as she rubs her face and shuffles towards her hotel room door, her lazy eyes falling on the F1 champion stood waiting for her at her door.

"Hey-Oh did I wake you up?" Lewis laughs since they had agreed to travel back to Monaco together. He's talked her into spending a few days there with him and since she has no other plans and he's got plans only for her.

"No. No. I'm just...tired. Gimme a second, I was just packing up the last of my stuff." Y/n smiles tiredly then shuffling off while Lewis steps into her room.

Y/n is wearing light grey matching set of joggers and a hoodie, pretty oversized and sort of swallowing her alive as she seems to pack up the last bits.

"Ok. Let's go."

They get to the airport and on the flight y/n is sleeping all peaceful and actually spends some of the flight with her face squished into Lewis' bicep.

Even he thinks to himself that she's just adorable.

So innocent and sweet.

But all he wants to do is ruin that. He wants to be the one to take the sweet girl from Toto and ruin every innocent fibre of her soul.

-

When they arrive in Monaco, he decides the innocent game is over and he's going to make it clear what he wants to do to her. He'd been thinking about it the whole flight there and then the ride to his apartment and now he's certain he might set on fire if he doesn't see more of her at the very least.

It had dawned on him thinking about what might be under that oversized sweats set, she is never in clothes that give away much of what her body looks like.

A modest dresser if there ever was one.

"Your apartment is...amazing." Y/n sighs softly earning a hum.

"Thanks, it is home away from." Lewis smiles while he walks up to her and slides his hands underneath her hoodie. Soft skin as he feels her almost tense up at the feeling of his touch on such unfamiliar territory. "It's a bit warm for so many layers."

"It...It is a bit." Y/n mumbles before finding herself very much exposed in a matter of seconds.

"I've got so many plans for you..." Lewis groans while her face burns in a flush, too flustered to find her voice.

Lewis is a patient man in his opinion, but y/n is bringing out a very impatient side.

"Lewis, I've never-I've never had sex." Y/n finally chokes out and while Lewis had somewhat predicted that to be the case.

Now while virginity isn't necessarily of much interest to Lewis, the idea of being the one to take it when he knows Toto has spent y/n's life sheltering her and seeming to keep her from any threat of a man who would touch her in a such a way. Intentionally or not, Toto made her an appeal to his former driver.

"You can trust me." to rob you of that oh-so protected innocence.

He'll be gentle, he'll make it memorable and he'll make sure she's hooked on the feeling of him.

Y/n genuinely came here with this being the last thing she could've assumed to happen. She really didn't know that Lewis looked at her in such a way. But now it's happening, is she actually going to stop him?

She doesn't believe she would have the courage even if she wanted to.

How Lewis manages to get her completely naked and exposed, she's not even sure. But she knows that there's some feelings and flutters that she's never felt before and it's all from his touch.

Is she weak? Probably.

Is this wrong on every moral level that she's been raised to? Definitely.

Is she going to even attempt to stop him? Absolutely not.

"Can I touch you?" Lewis questions since he's not actually going to do anything that will be a step that can't be undone until he knows he's got consent.

"Yes."

"Can I do what I want?"

Hesitation, a thick swallow and shaky breath fill a pause.

"Yes."

And that's like a gun shot to start a race.

There's not an inch of y/n's body that he misses, hands everywhere, lips leave wet kisses as a path around her body. All leading to one place.

Predictably, there's a slick wetness already coating her pussy before he's even touched it.

"I want to hear you, so any sound you need to make. Don't hold back." Lewis states not missing the fact she can't bring herself to look down at him, and while he'd usually make a command for eye contact. Easing her into this is his best choice for not scaring her, after all this has all happened in a matter of minutes and maybe she wasn't quite prepared enough to handle this at such a speed.

But she said yes. Twice.

And while really he didn't need to see with his own eyes, the proof of her being untouched from anyone else before him. Seeing it really is something that makes him almost launch forward, needing a test and the sensation of his tongue licking over her hole up to her clit is enough to earn a moan that he almost wishes he had an audio clip of to replay forever.

Her moans, the taste and just the feeling of her almost trying to shy away from him when she feels herself getting close to orgasm.

"L-Lewis." Y/n stutters with panic laced within a moan as her voice wobbles unsure of what she's doing. "Lewis, I-"

"Don't fight it, it's going to feel so good. Just stop fighting it." Lewis instructs though he's sure she has no idea what he means exactly when he's saying that. Though he's certain she knows what an orgasm is, she's not quite that innocent but he thinks that may have been her first. As much as he could dream about the idea of her playing with herself till she cums, he doesn't think it's very realistic either.

"Lewis..." Y/n whines panting and seeming to follow his command when she arches up against him an almost breathless moan escaping her lips.

Describing her as looking angelic in the moment seems like an inappropriate choice of words given his position but she really does.

Y/n hardly gets to process what just happened when Lewis has moved up to kiss heron such a heavy way that she almost feels a second wave of her orgasm completely overcome with the feelings that Lewis is pulling from her.

"Y/n, this is going to hurt a little but I can't keep waiting." Lewis states making her frown a little but she actually squeaks at the feeling of his dick brushing against her.

He does do her the obvious kindness of going slow but the man is packing and while he tries to make sure he's hurting her a little as possible, there's really not that much he can do.

"Ah." Y/n gasps almost moving back when Lewis feels her hymen give and her expression contorting while Lewis is practically the most restraint he's ever managed in his life.

"It's ok." Lewis assures her while she looks up at him, big eyes definitely not entirely trusting of him.

Lewis keeps easing himself into her as far as he can go, which definitely isn't fully within her.

"Ok. You just tell me when to move." Lewis soothes making her swallow and nod.

"Move. Please." Y/n mumbles after a couple minutes of seeming to adjust and very much start to gush around Lewis' length and while he starts slow and very controlled movements, the self-restraint is proving harder and harder.

The initial resistance is finally gone after a few minutes of slow movements and he does finally lose the ability to control himself a little more.

Reaching to play with her clit as he gives some attention to her nipples. Both of which finally seem to settle her enough and be bringing so much pleasure that he can already feel her second orgasm building up.

He would usually try and push for a third. But honestly, he's surprised he's managed to last this long. He'd be lying if he said that she doesn't feel like another universe of amazing.

He's even forgot the whole reason he's doing this.

Y/n's eyes actually clamp closed as she locks down on him a hand gripping his bicep with a bruising grip but Lewis is far to focused on completely filling y/n as he manages to push himself fully into her. Spotting the bulge in her tummy from being literally stretched beyond capacity and the moan that passes her lips from the additional pressure, literally triggering a second wave of her orgasm.

Eventually she's calmed down and relaxed while Lewis sighs beginning to pull out.

"Ah." Y/n hisses feeling pretty damn raw since Lewis did sort of go rougher and harder than he maybe should've with her first time.

"You'll probably be a little sore." Lewis chuckles lightly while moving his hand down to pull at her lip. "Wait here I'll clean you up."

-

It took a couple hours for Lewis to realise, but it was only while y/n was curled up next to him on the sofa that he realised there's no way she's on birth control and the last thing he was thinking about was wearing a condom. As much as that should be something he things about.

"Fucking hell." Lewis curses grimacing as he slides out from under y/n gently placing her head down.

Now he's going to have to find a way to get a morning after pill in her without being caught getting hold of one.

Thankfully his assistant, Lola (idk his assistant so we're making it up) is in Monaco and he finds her available to pick one up but when she appears in his apartment, she raises an eyebrow at the sight of y/n Wolff lying still very much passed out on his sofa.

"Really? Toto's daughter?" Lola questions making Lewis frown.

"Any of your business?"

He's not usually bothered about such comments but on this occasion he's not happy.

-

By the time the next race comes around, Lewis and y/n have been spotted together nonstop. Lewis looking very much possessive and always seeming on the borderline of something not very PG.

They've also noted that y/n's wardrobe has taken a change from modest to very much more easily accessible for Lewis to touch her however he wants. Very rarely keeping his hands far from her arse.

Walking through the paddock there's several drivers who seem to be watching the two along with a lot of media and even a lot of fans.

"Y/n...are you with us for this weekend?" Charles asks as Lewis keeps a tight hold on her hand, she couldn't walk to Mercedes even if she tried.

"Yeah, she is my guest." Lewis confirms seeming to surprise the young woman before she smiles brightly.

"Welcome. Is there sort of pipeline from Merc to Ferrari I wasn't informed about?" Charles jokes earning an innocent shrug from the young woman while Lewis spots Toto walk with James through the paddock and he looks angry.

Lewis has pretty purposely been making sure y/n ignores any and all messages and calls from her dad. Always distracting her and teaching her something new in the bedroom, he actually thinks he's morphed her into almost an unrecognisable woman.

"Shall we go?" Lewis asks catching y/n's attention as he smoothes the short skirt she's wearing down over her butt.

-

Y/n was apparently not the priority for Toto when it came to speaking about the new relationship. But Lewis certainly was because Lewis found himself summoned to Toto's motorhome and he couldn't wipe the victorious smirk off his lips.

"Using my daughter to get to me is not nice. She's not invloved in this."

"Y/n's happy with me and I can promise that I'm taking very good care of her in every way...including ways you can't." Lewis shrugs then smirking. "Well not without committing some serious crimes."

Toto looks like he's about to explode when Lewis stands up completely unbothered.

"I have lunch with y/n, so unless there's something else you need. I should get back to her-you know I think that neglect of attention with her might've given her some daddy issues." Lewis smirks then moving to the door. "Don't worry though, I treat her very well and she enjoys everything I have to to offer her. Maybe you'll respect your daughter's boyfriend a bit more to the media now."

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[kasagia]

Right hand III

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: After Feyd learns the truth about your dark past, you do everything in your power to prove your loyalty to him. He has many ideas for this... but will your life be able to go back to normal after that? You will either die at his hands, be exiled, return to the Bene Gesseit, or live by his side. And you yourself don't even know which of these options is worse... Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

His dagger digs lightly into your neck, blood slowly trickling down it. You don't try to fight him, you don't push the blade away or try to rip it out of his hand. You know that if you did, you would have been killed by him long ago.

You had to play it smart… and fast—before he slit your throat, which was becoming a more likely scenario with every second.

"Feyd…" You choke out once more, trying to make him look you in the eyes and get him to listen to you. The blood is seeping out of you faster and faster as he presses the blade harder against your throat.

"Silience, witch! You little plague, bane of my existence, poisonous viper, how long have you been playing with me? How long have you been faking all this? Did you think you could outsmart me? That you can deceive me? Make fun of me? Humiliate me? I should fuck you raw, use you like a whore, and leave you in your ridiculous sisterhood to rot with those old hags!" He shouts, pressing his blade harder against your throat. The cool steel of the metal on your skin is becoming a more serious threat to your life. You shiver as you feel him taking more blood from you.

"Feyd, listen…" You try to speak again, placing your hand on his wrist. He pushes your hand away as if it posed a radioactive threat greater than anything floating in Giedi Prime's atmosphere and glares at you furiously.

"NO! You lied to me. You betrayed me. You know how I punish people for disloyalty. You're lucky that I won't throw you to my soldiers so they can play with you before I give you to my harpies. But don't worry, I will take very good care of you. You'll die like those cowardly rats you helped me kill a few hours ago…"

"You... you would... kill me... if I told you... at the beginning..." You gasp as he grabs your neck tightly and drags his blade down your body, creating a trail of blood leading to your collarbone.

"I will kill you now." He growls hoarsely, completely cutting off the air from your respiratory tract.

Your eyes widen as he lifts you off the ground so that only your toes touch the floor. Tears well up in your eyes as you desperately try to draw in air, but his hand is wrapped too tightly around your neck for the oxygen to reach your lungs.

When you realised that it was over and that he had decided on your death, the moment that Lady Jessica told him the whole truth about you, you relaxed. You let a blissful emptiness wash over you as you slowly waited for him to take your life away. You close your eyes, rest your head against the wall behind you, and let your body slowly go limp as the seconds pass without air.

You gasp, surprised, as the grip on your neck loosens so that you can take small, ragged breaths. You quickly take advantage of the opportunity and take a few shaky breaths. You open your eyes, staring into Feyd's icy blue and furious gaze in utter shock.

Was he going to play with you before he killed you? Torture, like many before you, until he finds in himself some mercy and takes your life? Because if you know one thing, it's that you won't beg him to let you go. About nothing. Never. You were too proud to do so.

"Fight." He growls, pressing you harder against the wall. He leans forward, bringing his face very close to yours. You shiver, feeling his breath on your cheek as he carefully observes your reaction to his intimidation. Like a snake waiting for the right moment to attack.

"What?" You ask stupidly, not understanding what he is doing. You've often watched him play with his victims, prolonging their suffering and giving them no hope of escaping his grip... so why does he want you to fight? Why does he want you to resist him? Was this another sick game of his?

"Fight! Scream! Struggle! Why are you not doing anything?! Why don't you beg for your miserable life, Bene Gesserit's spy?! Fight with me! Fight back! FIGHT BACK!!" He screams and throws you against the wall.

Completely unprepared for him to completely release you from his grip, you fall to the floor, too weak to keep your balance on your own. You place your hands on the black metal sheet beneath you and breathe quickly, trying to get as much air as possible before he wraps his hand around your throat again.

"I… I was always… loyal… to you…" You gasp, still trying to recover from what just happened. He walks slowly towards you. He presses the tip of his sword under your chin and forces you to lift your head and look him in the eyes.

“You have five minutes before I treat you like I treat your mentor. Use this time well. I can always get bored and kill you faster.” He takes a step back and slowly slides the blade across your skin. He steps away from you to pour himself a drink, but he keeps watching you out of the corner of his eye. You take one brief glance at Lady Jessica's body before you can compose yourself enough to formulate any logical response.

"I... I have no idea what she told you. Where she lied and where it was convenient for her to tell the truth... but whatever she told you I did... she surely doesn't know the one, most important thing. She doesn't know the reason for my actions."

"Oh, but I do. You wanted to run away from them so you wouldn't have to breed with such a monster as me. You thought that as my right hand, you would be safe, that I wouldn't notice you in the shadows, that I wouldn't want you, and that I wouldn't touch you. But I did. And by doing so, I destroyed your plans. Tell me, how many times have you escaped from Giedi Prime in your fantasies? How many times have you wanted to leave for good?"

With each question he asks, he takes a step towards you, which makes him stand in front of you again. But you didn't get up from the floor. You didn't feel like it. Besides, you doubted he would let you stand up and be on an equal level with him. He needed to feel in control, to feel that he is still dominating over you—that he didn't lose control over you despite your... betrayal. Although you didn't think it was any kind of betrayal at all. A slight omission of a few facts. Nothing more.

"I... you can't blame me for that. Anyone with survival instincts would not willingly live on Giedi Prime. But I stayed." You decide to tell him some of the truth this time. For too long, you managed to play your cards well. You had to bend a little to his will without losing your claw and not behaving like an obedient concubine, wanting to fulfil all his orders and wishes, because that would make him more suspicious, and he would definitely kill you for trying to deceive him and lie to him again.

"You stayed out of fear." He questions your words, keeping his watchful, piercing gaze on you as he tries to find in you any trace of lying.

You almost shiver under the furious gaze of his icy blue eyes. Fortunately, you manage to refrain from showing him any reaction. The metallic scent of Lady Jessica's blood motivated you to survive like nothing had before. You somehow manage to recall some of your lessons and training sessions with her as you think about how to respond to Feyd's words. Maybe her methods and rules didn't keep her alive, but unlike her, you knew Feyda-Rautha too damn well. You could get out of this. You just had to play it smart and sacrifice a few things…

"Out of loyalty to you. Sense of duty and honor. Something I thought we both shared." You say confidently, meeting his gaze bravely.

However, your attitude does not impress him at all. He lazily turns the dagger in his hands, playing with the sharp blade. He doesn't take his eyes off you, even for a moment. He just stands there, maintaining a completely calm and unruffled demeanor. It's hard to imagine now that just a moment ago, this man was overcome with the greatest anger of his entire life. You've seen him in many states, but you have never seen him that mad. Rabban may have been called a beast by others, but the real threat was his younger brother. Especially when his first anger was over and it was time for the cold calculation of revenge.

“Was that loyalty and sense of duty also present in you when you chose to ignore the fact that you were supposed to be mine? That you are destined to give me an heir so strong that the whole world will kneel before him?” This time, you can't help but shudder. He notices this and chuckles darkly, shaking his head. In a split second, the tip of his blade is once again pressed on the thin and delicate skin of your throat. You swallow, and when you meet his gaze, you realise that you have to tell the truth if you don't want to die on your knees in front of him.

"If your uncle told you to marry me and have your offspring with me, would you do it?" A frown appears on his forehead at the mere mention of the baron. His hand trembles slightly as a new wave of rage washes over him.

"What does he have to do with this?" He asks hoarsely, as he suspects you of working with his uncle. After all, you were smart enough to play both sides.

Feyd wouldn't be surprised if you reported everything he was doing to his uncle behind his back. That's why he preferred having you—a cunning, beautiful witch who was now kneeling before him—by his side. Because you were drop-dead perfect. He never expected you to make such a stupid mistake. To ever let him gain even the slightest doubt about your loyalty.

"Nothing. But the Bene Gesserit were to me what your uncle is to you. And after running away from them, the last thing I wanted to do was follow the last sick order they gave me." The years you spent with him gave you enough information about the family relationship at House Harkonnen.

They are like predators waiting for the right moment to attack, always prepared to hurt the other one when he shows even a tiny glimmer of weakness. You also know Feyd's past... or rather, the history of scars on his back. Unfortunately, these were not the only marks the baron left on him.

You hold your breath as he grabs your hair and pulls you up. You get up on your feet, and, being on an equal level with him, you no longer hesitate to look him in the eye. He releases your hair with the other, only to move it to your cheek and neck. He rubs tiny droplets of blood across yours, shifting his attention to your skin. He caresses your jawline with his finger and suddenly tilts your head back, giving himself a better view of your reddened throat, which has begun to form bruises in the shape of his fingers from how he choked you just moments ago. You swallow, watching him closely.

"And yet you served me for many years. You stayed with me after they wanted to link your future with mine. Why?"

“I was hoping the last place they would look for me would be Giedi Prime by your side. And that… after all, you won't be interested in me.”

"But I was. This must have spoiled your plans, right?"

"A little." You confess, hoping to gain something from your honesty.

After your words, there is a long silence in the room. He removes his hand from you, staring intently at you as he considers your words. You wait in suspense and anticipation for his next decision.

One quick move was enough to take your life.

And from the look in his eyes, you know it must have been tempting for him to add your blood to Lady Jessica's, which was already staining the floor of the ship.

"On your knees." His command is so sudden that it takes you a moment for your brain to process what he said.

All you can do is stare at him blankly, your heart beating with excitement and terror at the thought of his words. He didn't want to… he couldn't now… You look down at his pants and swallow, seeing the slight bulge. You hold your breath as he takes a step towards you and presses his hard length against your thigh, which undoubtedly confirms your suspicions. He lifts your chin with two fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes as you blush and realise what he is asking you to do.

"I love your doe eyes, my pet, but there's a time and a place for everything. On your knees or your heart will become another decoration of my chambers." He says it huskily, caressing your chin before letting go. He stares at you expectantly, waiting for your next move.

You swallow again, feeling a huge lump in your throat. Your mind is racing, but you know, as he does, that you have no escape. Your position is hopeless; you can either give him a blowjob or die, and you don't want to do any of it. Or touch him in any way after he disembowelled Lady Jessica in front of you. But the prospect of being his next victim reluctantly brings you to your knees before him.

"Good girl." He hums, tilting your chin slightly so you're looking at him and not the floor between you. He takes a step towards you and attaches the dagger to his arm. "Show me that your beautiful, deceptive, tempting lips, throat, and larynx can do more than feed me with sweet lies, and maybe I won't cut them out of you."

You hold your breath, your eyes trailing down to his pants. You hear him chuckle darkly before he takes your hands in his and places them on the fastenings of his pants, guiding your hands as you gradually free his length from his armour.

You swallow again at the sight of his full, hard length and curse him, as the rumours about him do not lie at all. He was enormous. Long and not too thick, but not thin either. You don't know if you'd rather he tried to cut your throat with a knife than pierce it with what stood proud between you.

"Rumours say you know how to do it. I don't remember how many soldiers I killed for the privilege of having your body before me. But each of them shared one opinion. Your fire burns as bright in battle as it does in the bedroom. Show me, my little witch, how much you care about continuing to be my right hand and having all the privileges you had." He encourages you mockingly when you stare at his slightly pre-cum-dripping cock for too long for his liking. But damn, his cum was black. You were sure as hell that the bastard was going to paint you with it.

You give him an angry, cold glare as you wrap your hand around his length. He lets out a soft moan, grabbing your jaw to make sure you keep your eyes on his. You swallow, stroking his length with slow movements of your hand as he gets even harder. Part of you is glad that he wants you to look at him. You doubt you could keep your composure if you had to look at what you had to fit in your mouth… and hopefully only in your mouth.

He growls when you drag out the inevitable too long, using only your hands on him. You can see that he likes what you're doing, but the impatience radiating from him makes you realise that it won't end with just a few caresses of your hands around his length.

Reluctantly, you lean down and wrap your lips around his tip, sucking him gently—like candy. You taste his pre-cum on your tongue, surprisingly taking in its… not-so-horrible taste. It's bittersweet on your tongue and thick. You shudder at the thought of what he would feel like inside you.

He groans, burring his hands in your hair as he gently pushes you on him to make you take more of his cock into your mouth. You choke as his length suddenly hits the back of your throat. Surprisingly, he stops pushing you and just keeps his hands in your hair, letting you adjust to his full length.

"I've always liked your hair..." He starts tugging on them to correct your rhythm. "A natural leash for my beautiful, dangerous pet..."

You growl around him in anger at his words. He groans throatily, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth at the extra stimulation he got from you. You feel tears slowly begin to well up in your eyes as he allows himself to move his hips more and more, lazily thrusting into your throat. Your saliva mixes with his pre-cum, staining the corners of your mouth.

It amazes you how gentle he is with you. How he doesn't push you too far so as not to cause you the pain you know he loves to enjoy. More than once, you had to call the medic to his concubines. Even his harpies occasionally got injured when he used them for his pleasure after a particularly exciting fight. You knew how… he could get lost in his pleasure. Yet he was extremely careful with you.

He starts thrusting into your throat faster and faster, guiding your head by your hair in time with his thrusts. You let your tears fall as he picked up a pace you couldn't keep up with. You close your eyes and feel a tear roll down your cheek. You open them, meeting his gaze, when you feel his thumb brush away your falling tear. He licked it off his finger, purring at its salty flavour.

You wrap your hands around his balls, massaging them in a circular motion, trying to make him come as quickly as possible. He laughs throatily, pounding stupidly into your mouth. Your jaw starts to hurt. You prop yourself up on his thigh with one hand, unable to stay on your knees for long on your own.

Seeing that you're having difficulty, he slows down a little, lazily digging into your throat. He luxuriated in the warmth of your mouth, and your tongue caressed his length. His gaze never falters, as he maintains eye contact with you the entire time. He strokes your cheek with his hand, then moves to your throat as he gently uses his fingertips to feel the bulge in your throat caused by his cock.

"I'll take you. Fast and hard. You'll cry as beautifully as you do now and writhe beneath me desperately, trying to escape like always, but you'll be so impaled on my cock and wrapped in the tight embrace of my arms that you won't move a fucking millimetre without my permission. I will fuck into you our Kwisatz Haderach, so no one will ever doubt that it should have been otherwise, that you don't belong with me. And the best of all is that you will not know the damn day or hour when it will happen. You will learn how to be my whore and baroness, just like you learned how to be my right hand. You'll do great, my little witch. You prove very well with your mouth and hands what a wonderful right hand you are. Much better than my own fucking hand. Much better than any of the fantasies I had. My little witch, always attending to my every need. Only fucking mine."

He moans, speeding up drastically, chasing his peak. You feel him getting closer to his orgasm as he becomes impossibly harder in your mouth and his balls tighten, ready to release his black cum. He keeps making you look at him until he growls loudly, coming into your mouth.

Earlier, you were gagging with just his length in your mouth. Now you really choke as his seed spills down your throat. He presses you against him, your nose brushing against his pubic bone, making you swallow all of his cum until it's completely inside you. Its taste is pungent, reminding you of a spicy, bitter spice.

He stays in your mouth for a while after he finishes pouring into you. He massages your scalp with his hands, clearly not wanting to release you. His cock twitches slightly, and you fear he's about to give you a second round.

He sighs, reluctantly pulling out of your mouth. He grabs your hands and guides them to his pants. You cleaned him and put him back in his pants without saying a word. You are not even looking into his eyes, knowing full well that a satisfied smile will spread across his lips the moment you do.

He grabs your arms and lifts you off your knees. You shiver, unable to stay on your two feet after being on your knees for so long, and you fall into his arms, leaning completely against him. He laughs huskily, pulling you closer to his chest. He uses his fingertip to collect the last of your saliva and his cum from the corners of your mouth and pushes his fingers into your mouth. You suck on them, meeting his eyes with your defiant, angry gaze.

He hums, smiling darkly as he watches with satisfaction as you lick his fingers. He leans forward, his nose brushing your cheek as he licks from your face and then from your neck the droplets of his black cum that leaked from your mouth as you tried to swallow everything he poured into you. You shiver as his tongue caresses the skin of your neck, tracing the small, sealed wound he inflicted on you with his dagger. He hums against your neck, disappointed at how quickly your blood clots.

Suddenly, he lets you completely go. You can barely keep your balance as he walks away from you.

"If that Atreides' bitch survived, so did her pathetic puppy. Send a message to our people in the desert. Paul Atredis is alive. We have to kill him before he and the rebels start a revolt and destroy our plans. Clean up here too. Tomorrow we have half a tribe of these rats to interrogate."

You nod dumbly, trying to understand what the hell just happened. Just a few hours ago, you were afraid for your life, and now that you... have pleased him, he acts like nothing has happened. You come to the conclusion that it bothered you more than when he pressed his blade against your throat.

"Ah, and Y/N." He says, stopping at the door and turning to look at you one last time before leaving the room. You can tell by the mischievous smile on his lips that he has nothing good planned for you. "I want to see you in my chambers tonight."

He doesn't wait for your reaction or response. He just walks out with a springy, energetic step, closing the door behind him with a bang.

You shiver as you find yourself alone in the room with Lady Jessica's corpse. You look around, and, in a desperate attempt to find some positives, you decide that at least your blood isn't staining the floor of the ship... or at least not yet.

His chambers in the main base on Arrakis are not as... ornately terrifying as those he had in Giedi Prime. You wouldn't guess that someone important lived there. It was an ordinary room with a bed, a chest of drawers, and a bathroom. No amenities, just a commander's room; definitely too poor for a na-baron.

You shiver as you feel his hand on your hip. He pulls you to his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your hair. He sighs, inhaling your scent. The warm air on your neck is tickling you gently. You think about how it's been too easy for him to sneak up on you lately. You've gone out of shape.

"Are you planning how to escape, little witch?" He whispers hoarsely, playing with the fabric of your nightgown.

"I didn't. And believe me, I had better opportunities in the past. So why would I escape now?" You answer his question with your own one, irritated by his suspicions.

"Because unlike me, you are very reluctant to welcome our Kwisatz Haderach into this world." You roll your eyes at his words and turn your head to give him an annoyed look. He shrugs with a smirk. He presses a kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder before resting his chin on it. "You're obviously trying to distance yourself from me, too." He adds, seeing the irritated frown on your forehead.

“Weren't you the one who thought the Bene Gesserit prophecies were just bullshit from stoned old women?” You ask, raising your eyebrows in challenge.

"I did… but this particular one seems very convincing..." He purrs into your neck. He moves one hand from your hip so his finger can trace the red line of the wound he gave you with the dagger. He tilted your head back, forcing you to rest your head on his shoulder as he placed a trail of kisses on the small scar.

"Where are your harpies?" You ask when he starts showing too much interest in your neck, peppering it with kisses.

"Should I call them? Would you like them to join us?" You wrinkle your nose, at which he laughs, amused, tightening his hold on you.

"Of course not. You know that I have... no sympathy for them." You grumble, trying to break free from his grip, which, of course, he won't let you.

"The feeling is mutual. You know, they think you're stealing me from them. And that I will quickly get bored with you, like with other... oriental pets I had, and I will come back to them."

"What are you waiting for, then?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. He chuckles darkly, shaking his head. His hand plays with the strap of your black sleep gown, gently stroking your bare skin. He leans down, nuzzling your temple, and whispers in your ear:

“The problem is, my dear little witch, that you have taken over every ounce of my thoughts. My dreams, my nights, my days… it seems only right that I get back the time I wasted dreaming about you, right?”

You shiver, both from his words and from the way his hand slides over your body like a snake. He strokes your breasts, taking a moment to focus on them before his hand rests on your hips again. He presses you against him, clinging to you like a second skin.

"Let's go to bed. It was a very long day. For both of us..." He says, directing you towards his bed. You resist him slightly by digging your heels into the floor, but he quickly counters this by lifting you up gently, leaving your feet dangling in the air.

"Wouldn't you rather sleep alone? It's pretty warm here." You try to get out of it one last time, feeling the soft silk of his black sheets beneath you as he gently places you on his bed. He laughs mockingly, amused by your poor attempt at escape.

"Not at night. You know that well. I'd rather keep an eye on you, little witch. We don't know what monsters may be lurking in the darkness of Arrakis after we killed the Reverend Mother of those rats." He purrs, laying down next to you. You sigh as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to him, knowing full well that your safety is the last thing he's worried about right now.

"If Paul Atreides survived, it is very likely that he could be Muad'Dib. He will come here. To avenge his mother and unborn sister." You warned him. You're trying to make this situation more… normal. Lying in his bed and in his arms wasn't the least bit normal for you, but making plans with him was. You needed to keep your mind occupied until you could fall asleep… if he let you fall asleep.

"You didn't stop me from killing her. You didn't say a word. Why? Were you afraid you'd be next?"

You shake your head. You're not going to tell him the whole truth about what you felt back then, but you know you can't lie to him. You have to tell him at least half the truth if you want to regain some of his trust... at least until you escape.

"Lady Jessica believed that Paul was the real Kwisatz Haderach, since she gave Duke Leto a son instead of a daughter. The Bene Gesserit resented her for this. She was supposed to give him a daughter. A daughter who was to marry you and give you a real Kwisatz Haderach. By disobeying their orders, she fell into their disfavour... until she gave them the idea that they might as well... fuse me with you to secure your bloodline. But the Bene Gesserit came up with the idea that I was going to be the mother of the Kwisatz Haderach. If I hadn't gone with you that night... I might as well have died at her hands. I… I guess I was glad that I survived her."

Not looking at his face helps you partially open up to him. You didn't like remembering your past. This was the one thing you had in common. You try your best to reveal as little to him as you have to, unconsciously tracing patterns in his hand as he keeps hugging you from behind. If you turned around, you would have seen his small smile at your gesture quickly disappear as he sensed the growing tension within you at the thought of Lady Jessica.

"If I had known, I would have made it more painful for her." He states, taking your hand in his and squeezing it. You look down at your joined hands and frown as he slowly strokes the skin of your hand with his thumb.

"Why?" You ask in a whisper, not moving an inch when he buries his nose in your hair.

"Because no one hurts what's mine."You snort, knowing full well the true meaning of his words. If you were just a naive young girl, you would believe in the good intentions behind these words. However, you know Feyd Rautha too well to naively believe that he won't break his favourite toys. He grabs your chin in a tight grip and turns you to face him. You swallow thickly as his intense gaze meets yours. You've never had the chance to look so closely at his icy blue eyes... "I want you by my side all the time. I need to make sure you're not planning anything behind my back, little witch."

"Haven't I proven my loyalty enough?" You ask, placing your hands on his bare chest and pushing yourself away from him gently. He chuckles darkly, letting go of your chin in a split second to grab your wrists in a tight grip. He lifts your hands, pushing them away from him and twisting them so you can't move them.

"I believe you are capable of doing much more." He murmurs against your throat, pressing kisses there and lazily sucking at your skin, which was already irritated by his dagger.

You squirm in his arms, trying to somehow protect your neck from his wandering lips. Your attempts fail, as you only give him more fun by grinding against him in a desperate attempt to escape.

Eventually, he gets bored and decides to let you go. He lets you turn your back on him again, but you don't get far. His arms wrap around you, holding you in a cage as he takes on the role of the big spoon.

"I will bring you the head of Atreides on a golden plate. There is only one Kwisatz Haderach—our future son. I won't let some dog from Caladan tell people otherwise." He whispers in your ear. You shiver, half-wishing you were stupid enough to believe in his devotion. The fact that someone can do anything you want for you. But it wasn't love. It was just an obsession. You had to remember that.

"Maybe he really is the one… or maybe it's all just nonsense made up by those old hags? Maybe there will be no Kwisatz Haderach at all? What's then?" He doesn't answer your questions. However, you manage to get some reaction out of him.

He pulls away from you, the bed creaking beneath him as you hear him turn over to his other side. The sudden chill of not having his body close to yours makes you shiver.

You find yourself regretting for a moment that whatever you said made him distance himself from you. You shake your head and sigh, sinking deeper into the pillows. You try to find the most comfortable position possible when settling down to sleep. But for some reason, you don't feel tired at all. Your eyes are wide open as you listen to his soft breathing, the only other sound in the empty room.

"How did you find out about… uncle?" His sudden question makes you turn towards him. He remains turned away from you, ignoring any movement from you. You think for a moment, staring at the scars scattered across his pale, muscular back, before answering him.

"I have eyes and ears. And enough brain cells to… deduce a few things." You whisper, tracing a particularly nasty-looking scar on his back with the pad of your thumb. "I also... I went through something similar. I've told you that before. Bene Gesserit was to me what your uncle is to you." He turns slowly to face you at your words. His eyes examine you so thoroughly that you feel another shiver run through your body.

This time, when he reaches out to cup your cheek, you don't fight him. You let him, trying to decipher the unreadable look in his eyes as he continues to consider your words.

"Tell me... how could I resist when you're like this? How could I ignore you and leave you in your shadows when everything you do fascinates me to a madness that only you can heal?" He asks, tracing the line of your lips with the pad of his thumb.

"You wanted to kill me today." You remind him in an accusatory tone. You bite the tip of his finger, which only brings a smirk to his face as he moves his hand away from your face. He places it on your hip, squeezing it in a silient warning.

"I wanted to scare you. You lied to me, so you needed some punishment. Besides, you know perfectly well that if I really wanted to kill you, you would already be dead."

"Not telling the whole truth is not a lie. Besides… your intentions don't make this situation any different to me." You huff, rolling your eyes. He laughs huskily, caressing your hip through the fabric of your nightgown as he moves closer to you on the bed. Your chest is pressed against his. Both of you are breathing steadily and slowly, staring intently into each other's eyes.

"Are you afraid of the little old me, my little witch?" He asks teasingly. You catch yourself watching the sparkle of amusement in his eyes shine surprisingly brightly under the light of the Arrakis moon. You can't make yourself turn your gaze off of him. And that's what terrifies you.

"Should I?" You ask in a whisper, trembling, not giving him an ounce of trust. Seeing your extremely distrustful and hostile attitude, he stops smiling. He looks at you more seriously, as he is deep into his thinking.

He doesn't respond to you. He places a kiss on your forehead and turns your back to him. He holds you tightly, buries his nose in your hair, and slowly falls asleep, wrapping himself in your warmth and scent. On your back, you feel his heart beating calmly in his strong, well-built chest. You allow yourself to sigh shakily, being finally 'alone' for the first time since this fateful day began.

And you realise that you're not afraid of him at all. The only person you are afraid of is yourself. That you would give in to your strange attraction to him one day and seal your fate. You didn't want to die. But you'd rather find yourself buried under the sands of Arrakis than let those Bene Gesserit witches control your life ever again.

"If you tear this, you'll be walking around with my hand around your throat." He warns you, seeing you struggling with the black leather choker around your neck he gave you. It looked like a fucking collar. And it was a bit too tight for you to feel comfortable in it.

"You give me so many options…" You snort sarcastically, leaving the damn choker around your neck. "I look like a fucking whore." You say and turn towards him to look at him carefully.

He wore his more formal black armour with a cape that was as dark as the rest of his outfit. He smiles sarcastically and walks over to you. He smoothes the fabric of your dress on your waist and places his hands on your hips.

"Whore? Not at all. More like my pet." He hums, trying to take in your form in a form-fitting black dress. The silver chains on your hips and chest connect into a spider's web that flows down with the fabric of the skirt of the dress, which surprisingly doesn't cling as tightly to your body as the bodice of the dress does.

It's... definitely a bolder outfit than you're used to wearing. And this time, your hair was loose. The maids put silver accessories and small diamond jewels into your hair. You were a nicely wrapped gift, especially prepared for the Na-Baron's birthday.

"What's the difference?" You ask, raising an eyebrow defiantly.

"Calm down, little witch. Rumours about your past spread quickly. We can't let people see me as a weak man who fell under the spell of a Bene Gesserit, can we?" He teases you. He leans towards you and nuzzles your cheek before his lips start to trace a path along your jaw to your neck. You sigh slightly and place your hands on his chest, trying to keep him at a distance.

"Please. Don't pretend you're not doing it for your own fucking satisfaction." You snap at him, still trying to push him away. He puts the dagger on your neck rather quickly and too suddenly, making you refrain from any form of protest for a moment as he decorates your neck with hickeys.

"I'm not even trying to deny it at all… you look stunning, by the way." He growls hoarsely. His blade moves from your neck to the top of your corset, pressing the tip against the valley between your breasts. You sigh, feeling the coolness of the blade against your chest.

"They are waiting for you." You whisper as he nuzzles his nose against yours.

"We have a moment... besides, it's my birthday. Don't you want to celebrate my adulthood?" His low tone of voice sends shivers down your spine. Even after he tosses his blade aside, you make no move to try to walk away from him.

"You're still acting like the horny teenager I met. I doubt you will ever grow up."

"Watch what you say… I can always show you how hornier I became." His warning is not just lip service. He shows it to you... very clearly as his hard length rubs against your thigh.

You grab his jaw tightly and take a step away from him. He laughs, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back into his arms in one quick movement. You gasp in shock, falling into his chest. You struggle in his embrace until he slaps your ass. You glare at him furiously, at which he only tightens his grip on you.

"I want you to paint my body before the fight." He mumbles, caressing your cheek as you try to pull your head back from him.

Leading members of the high houses gathered on Arrakis to celebrate his birthday and the fact that he had managed to restore the mining and export of spices to extraordinary levels.

Feyd was to put on a spectacle, killing the most dangerous Fremen who managed to be kept alive during interrogations. However, you and Feyd have bigger worries to take care of right now. Like the baron and the emperor. Or Paul Atreides... or rather, their Muad'dib, who has not been found by you yet. Something Feyd decided to ignore for now in favor of groping you and trying to get into your pants.

Over the last few weeks, he has clung to you like a limpet. It made it very difficult for you to do any work or spy, as he was literally following you around. You felt like his favourite dog on a leash, taken for walks around the building before locking you in his chambers for the night, keeping you close to him. Even his harpies couldn't take his attention away from you. Something you really hoped would happen soon.

"It's always been… your harpies' privilege." You say as he tangles his hand in your hair.

"And now I want you to do it." He says it calmly, caressing your cheek as you try to pull your head back from him. "Do you mind?" You huff at his condescending question.

"Don't ask me questions like that; otherwise, I'll start thinking that I really have a choice here." He laughs, showing you a set of his freshly painted black teeth and shakes his head at you.

"We both know you're too smart for that, my shrewd little witch." He says this and leans in, gently brushing your lips with his. He keeps a tight grip on your hair as his kiss becomes more intense and possessive. He tightens his grip on your waist, tugging at the fabric of your dress, causing the silver chains on it to clang against each other with every move of his hand.

His hand reaches for the strings of your corset at the back, but before he can untie even one of them, there's a knock on the door.

"My Lord Na-Baron, the Baron, and your brother have just landed on Arrakis. The emperor should also be arriving soon."

You feel him tense slightly as he pulls away from you. His face hardens as he puts on his emotionless mask, staring out the window, where he could probably see the ship landing.

"Come on, little witch. I don't need to remind you to be on your best behaviour, right?" You roll your eyes at him, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow.

"I think I can play your concubine for a day. Consider this my birthday gift to you, my Na-Baron." You say it sarcastically and sweetly, walking with him out of his room and towards the great hall where he would greet everyone gathered. If you were lucky enough, you might be able to escape from him for a moment or two...

"In my chambers as well?" He asks teasingly, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him trying not to smile, but the corner of his lip twitches, giving him away (at least to you).

"Anywhere but there." You reply quickly, making him smile this time. At least for a second. After all, he has a reputation to uphold.

"That's okay. We don't need to do it there. There are so many other places…" He whispers hoarsely in your ear before you enter the room where the first party is to be held. You can't stop a cold shiver from running down your spine.

Doors are opening for you. You wait for him to let go of your waist and move in front of you like he usually does at these types of parties with the concubines he brought for company, but he doesn't do that at all. Instead, he tightens his grip on your waist and holds you by his side as he navigates through the sea of people. You can't help but blush slightly.

If you had any doubts over the last few weeks that he was no longer interested in you, they were gone with his small gesture. He will indeed ruin you. As soon as he finds the opportunity suitable. You were afraid that the evening of his birthday might be considered in his eyes as a perfect time to do this.

But somehow you manage to get out of his sight. You position yourself against the wall, having a perfect view of the most important people in the room. The Baron and Feyd were talking about something with the Emperor and his daughter. You look at them curiously, especially since the Harkonnens have their backs turned to you. And looking at Princess Irulan in a silver dress that was constructed to resemble armour, you see in her your chance for freedom. If Feyd married her, he would probably get over his strange obsession with you.

"Lady Y/N." Feyd's older brother's mocking greeting reaches your ears. You turn to him, taking your eyes off Feyd for a moment, and nod to the man standing next to you.

"Count Rabban."

"I heard you and my brother dealt with the rats of Arrakis. My congratulations." You are quite wary of his civilised attitude. The last time you saw him, Feyd made him kiss his shoes. And yours. So you definitely didn't stay in... a neutral relationship after that.

"Na-Baron is a great commander." You reply with a polite smile. Your eyes involuntarily wander to Feyd. There's a knot in your stomach when you see him talking to the princess. You frown, wondering what the hell is wrong with you.

"I have no doubt." He nods, also looking at Feyd. "He will destroy you. Like any toy he had before you. When you lose your usefulness, he will throw you to his harpies. He's more unpredictable than me or even my uncle. But you know that... so what are you still doing by his side?" He asks, turning his gaze on you.

"I am his right hand. I live to serve him." You answer automatically, shrugging your shoulders.

"If I had known that Bene Gesserit witches were so devoted, I might have appointed one to be my right hand."

"Believe me, count Rabban, the overwhelming majority would not serve him or anyone else so loyally as I do. They would probably prefer to poison themselves." He laughs at your words, taking two drinks from the passing servant. He hands you one, but you shake your head. "I don't drink if I don't have to. Old habits from my home planet. My mother would slap my sisters and me on the hands until she could see our bones as a punishment for stealing a drink or two." You're half lying when you remember how the Reverend Mothers made sure you were completely… untainted by any substances that could make you less healthy. All for breeding. Like farm animals.

"And they say the Harkonnens are monsters. At least you can get drunk with us… well, before we torture you to death or accidentally kill you."

"I've gotten used to it. Fortunately, I have fast reflexes." You reply with a smirk, knowing full well what he's trying to do. He wanted to ingratiate himself with you while you were still important in the Harkonnen court. His brother currently despised him, and his uncle probably did too. He saw an opportunity to increase his political influence when he spotted you alone.

Suddenly, you feel someone's intense gaze on you. You turned your face to notice that Feyd's eyes were on you and not on the princess, with whom he was still talking. Judging by the way your skin was burning from the look Feyd was giving you, you could tell he didn't like his brother being close to you at all.

And Feyd was incredibly pissed off and furious. In his eyes, Rabban wasn't worthy enough of your time, attention, or even being close to you to have the pleasure to smell the scent of your perfumes. But not only did his brother have the courage to talk to you; he even made you smile. Feyd was already planning in his mind how to tear his head off.

Na-Baron would have done just that if an arrow had not suddenly passed between him and Princess Irulan.

Panic filled the room when suddenly, a hail of arrows hit random people. You grabbed your blade and were about to move towards the first archer you noticed, but suddenly a cold steel was pressed against your neck. The Fremen woman holds you tight. You can only stand there calmly and watch as they overpower the more important representatives of the great families, leading the less important people out of the room. Feyd's blue irises are focused on you all the time, which surprisingly makes you feel a little better.

"Silience!" You freeze when you see Paul Atreides emerge from the crowd of Fremen.

Your informants haven't told you much about him. He had done well since he was forced to live on Arrakis among the Fremen. He became stronger, smarter, and more ruthless. He had no weaknesses… except one. You look around the room, your eyes locking on the woman who stood a few metres away from you. His lover.

If living among powerful men taught you anything, it was that they only had a few weaknesses. Fear for their lives, property, title, and, among those younger and less experienced in life, their loved ones. But Paul Atreides changed on Arrakis. He wasn't the little boy you knew during your training with his mother. You could only hope that he loved his woman enough to consider rescuing her. Maybe you will buy enough time before your trops, waiting on ships above Arrakis, come to rescue you.

"Let me go. Give me your blade. Keep your mouth shut and close your eyes for the next 30 minutes." You use your voice on the woman who holds you.

While she does what you told her, you try to get to Atreides' lover unnoticed. You ignore his speech; your heart is racing in your chest, and all you can hear is the sound of your blood flowing in your blood vessels.

When you reach the Fremen woman, you quickly disarm her and press your dagger to her neck. Atreides stops his speech. Before anyone can react, you take a deep breath and say loudly:

"Everyone ten steps back. Stay still, or slit your throat with the nearest weapon." Everyone in the room is listening to you. You have to take a few steps back with the woman you have in your iron grip. You tremble as you feel the eyes of everyone in the room on you, especially Feyd's. However, your gaze is fixed only on Paul Atreides.

"This is impossible… what are you?" He asks in shock, not moving after you forced him and everyone else in the room to back away from you.

"It doesn't matter, Atreides. Take your men and get out of here. I advise you well." You growl furiously at him. You feel the blood start to pulsate in your veins. The old wound on your side is slowly starting to open up under the pressure your body is going through. You're glad you're wearing a black dress. At least not all of them will see the blood stain on your dress when it will be leaking out of you more and more by the second.

"You cannot keep them under your will forever. You'll soon get tired, faint, or bleed to death." He reasons, fully aware that your crowd control is time-limited.

"My men will be landing here soon. They'll take everyone who counts and fly away with us, raining nuclear bombs on your precious little desert. The spice from these areas may have been contaminated for several centuries, but we still have the opposite pole of Arrakis to exploit and extract it. So better choose wisely."

He frowns at your words, looking at you carefully and analysing your facial expressions carefully. You stare at him hard and unfazed, even though you feel the fabric of your dress sticking to your open wound. You have a staring fight with each other until you press your dagger a little more into the woman's throat and take her blood. He looks briefly at his girl before he opens his mouth to speak.

"We've met before, right?"

"You have one minute to make a decision before I make your woman bleed to death in front of you." You say hoarsely, feeling your muscles tremble slightly. But you hold on with all your might, maintaining your calm, dangerous, hostile attitude.

You all wait in suspense to see what he will do. He might as well attack and kill you, risking his men overpowering any reinforcements that come to your rescue. But you hope he's considerate enough to back off. If not because of the people who came after him, then because of his girlfriend or concubine, whose life now depends solely on you.

You almost sigh in fucking relief when he takes a step back. You let him get out of your control, looking at him carefully all the time. You swallowed and let go of his woman.

"Follow your Muad'Dib." You command the people of the desert. They stare at you for a moment before their eyes rest anxiously on their leader. He nods at them as he slowly leaves the room.

As quickly as they arrived, they left. You stand at attention for a long time—a minute, an hour, or hours—until you hear the ship approaching and the movement of the sands of Arrakis under the influence of sandworms.

They left. You realise this with relief. However, it is a very short-lived relief. It ends when your eyes meet the eyes of the reverend mothers, who are clearly communicating with each other. You fucked up. You revealed that you were a Bene Gesserit, or at least that you knew some of their tricks. Unconsciously, you completely let go of control over the gathered crowd.

"Why didn't you wait for your people so we could kill them? Kill him?" The emperor's voice reaches you vaguely. You raise your head and meet the gaze of an old man standing a few steps away from you.

"I bluffed, my emperor." You reply shakily, feeling blood start to flow from your nose as well.

"What?" He asks in shock, unable to believe that all your talk was a pure bluff. You don't have the strength to explain anything. You can stare blankly at the floor, feeling your strength slowly begin to drain away after you use the voice on the people gathered in the room.

"I bluffed." You repeat, feeling your heart beat rapidly against your chest. Your vision becomes completely blurry; all you can hear is the buzzing in your ears, the pounding of your heart, and the slow dripping of your blood onto the floor.

"But… you…" Whatever he was about to say, he's interrupted by you falling to your knees. You don't register at all what's happening around you. The only thing you are sure of is that there are suddenly a lot of people around you.

You're clinging to what little consciousness you have when you suddenly feel something pull you against the hard wall of muscle. You lean against the unexpected support, slowly drifting into blissful unconsciousness as you no longer feel the pain from the open wound on your side. The hoarse call of your name makes you a little more aware, enough to distinguish Feyd's voice from the indistinct gibberish around you.

"Get a medic here!"

He whispers something else to you as he brushes your hair out of your face, but you don't hear anything anymore. You let yourself go into the blissful darkness, happy that you can rest, at least for a moment. And you feel surprisingly comfortable, with the warmth of his arms and his scent being the last things you feel before passing out.

You're surprised that when you wake up in the hospital wing, there's no one at your bed, looking at you like a guard dog. Once you get used to the feeling of being fully aware, you rub your eyes. The moonlight shines through the window, illuminating a dark and empty room you found yourself in.

You ignore the strange twinge in your chest when you don't see your Na-Baron anywhere near you and slowly sit up on the bed. You check the status of your wound and are pleased to see that you are in a more stable condition than you were a few hours ago.

You place your feet on the floor and slowly stand up, testing your muscles. You're relieved to see that it's not as bad as it was in the past. You walk over to the chair where a black silk robe is hanging and put it on. You take a moment to search the room, smiling hugely when you find your daggers on the nightstand next to your bed. You attach one to your thigh and tuck the other inside the sleeve of your robe. Maintaining great silence, you tiptoe out of the room.

You sigh in relief as you wander the empty corridors again, hiding in their shadows. You feel like a newborn, like a fish that has returned to the current of a familiar river. You weren't aware of how therapeutic it was for you to wander the halls alone at night until Feyd trapped you in his arms and his bed practically every night. You missed it. Very much so.

However, today's attempted attack by Atreides made you realise that you were too focused on getting away from Harkonnen and trying to keep him at a distance. You had to take action. Otherwise, Paul Atreides will cut off your head, just like his mother once wanted to do.

You shudder as you remember the day you escaped from the Bene Gesserit sisters' sanctum.

You ran barefoot through familiar corridors in the cold, dark night. You didn't need a torch or other light. You had lived within these walls long enough to know which corridors ended in dead ends and where to turn to reach each gate. But Lady Jessica knew them as well as you. You had to be a lot smarter if you were going to escape the woman who wanted you dead.

Yesterday there was a great meeting of Reverend Mothers after Lady Jessica failed to give birth to Leto Atreides' daughter at the right time. The Reverend Mothers had to find... a new breeding mare for Feyd Rauthy, from whose blood the Kwisatz Haderach was to be created. They chose you. And now, because of this honour that had been a death sentence for you from the very beginning—a curse, an evil fate that seemed to have stuck with you since your birth—Lady Jessica had tried to kill you in your sleep and was now trying to complete her work.

You decide to go to the ramp, hoping that you might be able to capture some small ship—something flying around—that would get you away from those damn Bene Gesserit.

You knew you were too weak to fight Lady Jessica. She taught you a lot, but not how to defeat someone stronger, like her. If you wanted to live, you needed to find a way to escape.

You speed up as you hear the click of her heels behind you. You run as fast as you can, reaching the door just as Lady Jessica appears at the end of the hall. You close the door behind you with a loud snap. You sigh, leaning against it for a moment. You freeze as you feel the blade against your throat.

"Step away." You order in panic before opening your eyes. A cold chill runs through you as you see Na-Baron Harkonnen's cold blue irises staring at you in shock as he obediently steps away from you.

You stand there for a few minutes, staring at each other without saying anything. Na-Baron examines you carefully: your dishevelled state, rapid breathing, red cheeks, and bare feet. You have no idea what he deduced, but it was enough for him to not immediately slit your throat for using the voice on him.

"You should go back to your sisters, little witch. Unless you want to join me, I wouldn't say no to the company of... such a pretty mouse." He speaks hoarsely. He doesn't wait for your answer, though. He simply turns and walks slowly towards the ship his men are packing. You swallow and wonder: Is death at the hands of Lady Jessica or at the hands of Harkonnen? Your pride chooses for you.

"I'm not a mouse, I'm a warrior." You reply, gathering all your inner courage. Na-Baron stops in his way.

His raspy laugh sends another shiver down your spine as he slowly turns back to face you. He approaches you slowly, each step perfectly calculated as he stands a few millimeters in front of you, invading your personal space. You raise your head proudly and meet his gaze with your own, determined one.

Which impresses him.

So much so that he reaches for the dagger strapped to his hip. You don't flinch when he runs the tip of the dagger across his tongue. You watch him closely, waiting for him to either slit your throat or accept the challenge. Feyd is surprised. And very curious—too curious—to simply walk away and continue on his path. That's why he takes your hand in his and hands you the dagger he was just testing.

"So show me what you can do, little witch. Except for using that honeyed voice of yours." He says it mockingly and takes two steps back, drawing another hidden blade from his armour.

You don't remember the entire fight clearly. The adrenaline was pumping through you so much that you only remember snippets of that dance with him with daggers in your hands. Surprisingly, neither of you disarmed the other. You stopped as you both placed your blades against the other's flesh—at points that would guarantee instant death if either of you decided to press the blade against the skin a little harder.

"You fight well, little witch." He praises you, moving away from you. "You're wasting yourself here." He says, looking at you acutely for a long time, considering something. But finally, he nods at you and turns again to join his men and board the ship. You quickly grab his hand before he gets too far away from you. You feel him tense at your touch, but he doesn't make any moves.

"Let me go with you. My blade will be an extension of yours, Na-Baron. I'll be your spy from the shadows, just... get me out of here." He widens his eyes slightly, unprepared for such a request. He turns towards you and glares at you with his icy irises.

It could very well be a trick from those witches, but Feyd would be lying if he didn't say that you caught his attention the first day he saw you training. And he really wanted to see what you were really capable of doing. Few had the guts to challenge him. And he found it somehow charming—how your eyes shone with determination every time you held the blade in your hands.

"Your sisters won't be happy when they find out that I took one of them to Giedi Prime." He says, feigning hesitation. His people knew him well. If he wanted something, he took it. A group of old witches wouldn't stop him, not now that he saw... great potential in you. Maybe not only as one of his soldiers.

"With all due respect, your house is not known for following anyone's rules except those you set. I… I can't stay here any longer."

His heart beat faster, seeing the desperation and helplessness in your eyes. Normally, he would laugh at someone who showed him weakness and kill him on the spot without much thought. But you... when you stared at him with those pleading eyes of yours, flushed from fighting him... it did something to him.

Feyd knew the feeling of helplessness. His uncle loved making him feel this way. And Feyd himself finds great enjoyment in making others feel that way. Humiliated. Weak. Scared. Somehow he didn't like the fact that staying in the sisterhood made you... feel like that and do such desperate actions as coming with him to Giedi Prime.

However, he had no intention of letting go of such a valuable bird that was voluntarily pushing itself into his cage.

"Well, you fight better than most of my men... I will make you my right hand. And as for your Bene Gesserit sisters..." You sigh softly as he reaches for your hair and cuts it in half. He cuts your shoulder and dips the cut hair in your blood. You see him put a few strands in his pocket, before he handed them to his servant, growling something at him in his native language. You raise an eyebrow at him. "I told him to convey my thanks to the Reverend Mother for... sending me a delightful toy. He might also mention that my darlings liked your meat." You nod, swallowing. He laughs mockingly, patting your shoulder. "You have many things to learn, little witch. You better prove to me that I wasn't wrong about you, or you will suffer exactly the fate that my servant will pass on to your sisters. I don't like weakness and disappointment."

"I have no intention of disappointing you, Na-Baron."

"Good. Come with me. I'm fed up with this planet. Besides, you need to change your clothes if you don't want my men to think you're a whore they can enjoy while on our journey." He nods and walks towards the ship. You follow him like his shadow, casting cold, sinister glances at the people staring at you.

"I am perfectly capable of defending myself, my lord." You reply confidently as you walk with him up the ramp to the Harkonnen ship. You see a small smile appear on his face at your words.

"I don't doubt that. However, I wouldn't want to lose more people than necessary. It's supposed to be your job to clean up after me, not the other way around, little witch." He responds, testing you and carefully watching your reaction. You don't flinch, perfectly prepared and familiar with... the brutality of the Harkonnens.

"Duly noted. There's only one thing I don't understand." He doesn't stop in his steps, but he gives you a quick glance and hums, allowing you to continue and ask a question. "I appreciate it very much, but… why didn't you kill me at the entrance?"

He chuckles hoarsely at your question and stops at a specific door. He turns to look at you, a spark of amusement shining in his eyes as he studies you like a predator would its prey before deciding to answer you.

"You didn't apologise or beg for your life. I found it... very refreshing." He says, opening the door. The metallic smell of blood fills your nostrils. You look into the room and see several prisoners chained to the wall of the ship with some strange cuts on their chests—probably some words in Harkonnen."Your first task, little witch. My darlings are very hungry. They will need the meat of my enemies. Come back here in an hour... I should finish by then. And change that rag you wear. I want to see you only in black." He orders, closing the door behind him with a bang.

You stand in the hallway for a moment, blinking and staring at the door, as you are suddenly thrown into a new reality that you have to get used to. You mutter a series of curses under your breath as you go searching for... any clothes or shoes. The cold metal of the ship's floor and the dried blood in some places made walking around on your bare feet quite uncomfortable.

Feyd-Rautha was indeed psychopathic... but it was better for you to be the devil's right hand than his mistress. And it was certainly better to inhale the toxins of Giedi Prime than to smell the flowers from underneath your grave.

You find yourself in front of a door that you don't want to go through. But you know you have to do it if you want to remain free and independent of anyone. You couldn't escape now. Not before Feyd-Rautha. You had to pay the price of your freedom with someone else's freedom. And you were ruthless enough to do it without blinking an eye. Maybe the years of living with Harkonnen really made you one of them...

You knock and enter the cave of Feyd's three harpies.

As you might expect, they don't welcome you very warmly. As soon as you close the door behind you, you hear their hisses. They stop feasting on some Fremen and glare at you, slowly approaching you.

"Relax, ladies. I'm here... to make a small agreement." You announce, taking a seat in the only chair that, surprisingly, isn't covered in anyone's blood. The women look at each other distrustfully and approach the table where you are sitting.

"Agreement?"

"With a little witch?"

"We don't make any agreements with our meals; we simply eat them."

You don't flinch at their words. Instead, you nod and draw your dagger when they get too close to you. Two of them move away automatically, but one—the oldest of them—continues to look at you. You give her a cold and dispassionate glare as you play with the blade in your fingers.

"But that's exactly what I'm talking about. About... a food. A great meal. A feast you will remember for a long time, ladies." You try your best to sound encouraging.

Their eyes light up, interested as you meet a fresh meal. You know perfectly well that they haven't eaten anything... desirable for a long time. They probably had to drag the body of this miserable man to their chamber themselves since you didn't have time to... make sure they were fed. And if there's one thing you can get on Giedi Prime with something other than power and sex, it's food.

"The little witch is planning something…"

"The little witch is up to something interesting…"

"The little witch wants to do something against our master…"

You look at them unfazed as they read that you have no clear intentions at all when it comes to working with them. But anyone who managed to survive on Giedi Prime and Arrakis was surely a man whose conscience had gone a long time ago.

And maybe your plan wasn't good for everyone... but it was definitely good for you. And Feyd. He'll agree with you... or at least you hope so. You're still not sure if his obsession with you was just a passing whim or if he really wanted to keep you with him. But you didn't want to end up like his concubines and pets.

"Possibly... but isn't that what you want? For your master to give you his attention again instead of taking care of me?" This seems to interest them even more than the promise of food.

"What do you want, little witch?" The oldest harpy asks you, looking at you carefully. You give her a mischievous, sinister smirk.

'"Have you ever thought of feasting on the Baron?" Your question hangs in the room. The harpies watch you carefully, smiling slowly and showing a row of black teeth.

Nothing united women like a common enemy.

To be continued... Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x y/n #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd oneshot #house harkonnen #dune part 2 #oneshot #feyd supremacy #feyd smut #feyd rautha x bene gesserit reader #feyd imagine #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen x you #smut #dark romance #toxic behavior

[azullumi]

"orion" ; aventurine

summary : he has lived through many lives, has met many people, has gone through many places, but the shadow of your soul follows him wherever he goes and his eyes would search for a glimpse of your smile everywhere. he continues to look for the light that touches him, not the sun, not the moon, but you.

tags : star-crossed 2024, reincarnation concept, established relationship but also not established in some parts, usage of metaphors, fluff with angst and comfort, crumbs of insecure aventurine, snippets of his lifetimes and how he finds you in each one of them, not proofread sorry, 2.9k words ; one-shot

tagging : @toorurs (hi boo)

notes : i had two ideas in mind but the other was too complicated and would be lengthy so i decided to have this one instead. anwss, i hope you'll like this one!!

Aventurine has recurring dreams of you.

(It was a blessing.)

Ones that feel like fleeting moments in the wind destined to be taken away from him as soon as he tries to hold it. It crumbles into dust and falls to the ground he stands on, and he’ll try to pick up your pieces but it doesn’t stay in his hands for long. Perhaps it was meant to leave, not to last, and perhaps, he’ll hold on to what little is left of the particles in his palms.

In his dreams, you’ll kiss the scars on his skin and he’ll adore you, clear vivid eyes painted with vibrant hues that capture all his affection for you in his soft gaze (they say the eyes are the windows to the soul and you’ll see your reflection in his). You’ll tell him of all the worries that plague your mind, of all the thoughts that bothers you, of everything that you’ll think of.

“If you have 3 lifetimes, what would you do in each one of them?” You speak softly, a soft murmur to the night as you look at him with your eyes wide with curiosity. Aventurine will find himself baffled over your question, eyebrows knitted as he falls into his thoughts—he wouldn’t know what to say.

“It’s not that hard to answer, is it?”

“How about you answer first? I’m a little curious about what you’ll say.”

You hum, lips pursed into a smile as if you already know what to say, as if you’ve been waiting for the moment that someone will ask you that question; You recount your desires to him on how you want to be a bookstore owner but also a florist, on how you wish to soar the skies but also travel across the seas, on how you want to be everything and nothing all at once. 3 lifetimes would simply not be enough for your wishes.

He likes listening to your voice as you speak, adores the way the corners of your eyes wrinkle when you think of something you like. But somewhere in the back of his head, turmoil creeps into the cracks of his mind and settles on the sharp edges.

“Your turn.” You say, beaming a warm smile at him yet he falls into silence once more. He feels ashamed, humiliation seeping into the gaps of his fingers and traces the lines of his palms—you were so full of light, embodying solace in your being, you are what is adored and seeked yet he stands beside you, seemingly like a shadow that haunts your steps, hesitation lingers and tugs at his hand even when he’ll try to touch you. He’s unsure of what he wants in this life even more for the ones that will supposedly come. He finds it unfair—perhaps for you—for him. 

“Still no answer?” Your voice sounds reassuring, soft as you lightly graze your finger on his skin, your ghosting touch making his lips shudder. It was comforting, the way that you’ll speak to him, the way that you’ll touch him, the way that you’ll love him—it was all warm and comforting. You brush your hand on his cheek, tucking away stray strands of hair behind his ear; “It’s alright, it was a sudden question anyways. Also, something stupid to ask.”

“No, it’s not—it’s not stupid.” He stumbles over his words; he rarely stutters, rarely finds himself tripping on the bumps of the letters that fall out of his mouth but he finds himself staggering on the line of vulnerability and uncertainty. You hum, nodding, seemingly encouraging him to spill out whatever he wishes to say because you’ll listen, no matter how ridiculous it can be.

“I just haven’t thought about it.” Aventurine, though he may not say it, doesn’t like thinking of the future. It just reminds him how everything ahead of him is just empty and narrow, it’s as if he has to walk alone.

“But I…” His voice trails off and yet a thought lingers inside his head, making its way down his throat and clawing the walls of his mouth; the more he’ll keep it in, the more he’ll taste the blood of his perished words on his tongue.

“I’ll look for you in each one of them.”

The wind blows against his and your form and he feels your lips all over his face, pressing delicate kisses all over the lines and wrinkles of his features as if a brush to a canvas. The light would become too bright for him so he closes his eyes, relishing in this moment where you hold his face in your hands as if he was made out of broken pieces carved out of people’s miseries, as if he was something fragile, and the dirt that stains the waters of his mind seemingly dissipates like it never existed.

“Another stupid question, did you know how much I love you?” You’ll whisper against his lips, a smile tugging on the corners of your mouth. Your breath tickles his skin and he can’t hide the smile that draws on his face.

“How much?”

“I’ll give the world to you.”

And he’ll wake up.

(Or perhaps, a curse.)

Aventurine stands before the colorful blossoms displayed in pots and buckets of different sizes and colors. The essence of spring dances in the air, filling the place with the scent of blooming flowers and the sight of receding snow that unveils the land below; the sight of it is not unfamiliar to him. He has seen thousands of it—the different seasons that weave its life in his surroundings and has lived through many of them.

He has had many lives and he has been everyone but also no one. He has been a puppet, a poet, a prince, a musician, a gambler. Little pieces of himself merge into the likeness that he sees in front of the mirror everyday. His form is battered, bruised, broken all over, patched and affixed together with nonviscid tape, sewed with delicate threads of fate—there are days that he doesn’t recognize the person standing in front of the reflective glass. Even if has retained most of his features, most especially his eyes, and nothing drastic has changed from what he once was; yet he struggles in seeing himself in the mirror.

“Are you looking to buy a bouquet?” A voice breaks him out of his trance, pulling him back to reality. It must have been weird seeing a man just standing for minutes in front of the displays and staring into space.

“No, not re—” His sentence breaks off abruptly when he turns his head to the sound of the voice and his eyes meet a pair that causes memories to surge like a harsh tide that pulls everything into the depths; it sweeps him under like a fierce undertow as it drags him back to the profundity of what haunts him. His thoughts that seem like old, faded photographs flicker in his mind, and the sound of buzzing fills his ears as the world comes to a still.

It feels as though the ground beneath him has crumbled away. There you are.

“Sir?” It’s you, it’s you that calls out to him and not a random person that he meets somewhere he can’t remember, not a stranger that would approach him and ask for his name, not someone that he thought was you.

“Nothing,” Aventurine shakes his head and composes himself, “I would like to get a bouquet.”

“Of course, which flowers would you like to have?”

“I’m not entirely sure. What do you recommend?” If this was his attempt of making a conversation, he lies between the line of failing and succeeding. He’s not even here with the plans of bringing home a bouquet to give nor decorate his house and he’s not even sure if he has his wallet with him.

You hum as you fall into deep thought and you begin to count tales of different flowers and paint the meanings behind them with your voice, and you come to mention one that made his heart skip like stone in a pond, and his breath hitch. You speak of a certain flower with such tender affection and all he can think of is how you used to adore this very one even back then, and how your home used to be adorned with it.

“Is that your favorite?” The golden-haired man asks, curiosity wrapping around his tone as he speaks despite the fact that he already knows your answer and you smile at him, warmly—and oh, how much he missed seeing it. It’s like he has fallen in love all over again and the colors paint all over his once bleak and mellow life. Even after all this time, all these years, all these lifetimes, he still has you carved in his soul, every part of you etched on the bumps of his skin. As if you’re engraved like a scar on his body, persisting, lingering.

“It’s a lovely flower, how could I not?” The sound of laughter forms in your throat and spills out of your lips. It’s a lovely sound that he has inscribed in the very depths of his mind, one that would muddle his sleep or disturb him in the moments of silence he would revel in, trying to find the wind to ground himself.

You’re still the same as he remembers.

Memories lie dormant like fragile butterflies trapped within glass jars, fluttering and flickering, casting shadows upon the vulnerable walls of his conscience. Remembering, a troublesome thing that weighs heavy in his mind, tugging on his thoughts, and having a tight embrace on his heart. Sometimes he thinks it’s just a dream, one meaningless and lengthy dream that is meant to harrow him every time that he wakes up. But it was real, all of it is real—the laughter, the kisses, the touches, the smiles, you. How could he ever deny your existence?

Aventurine is in his nth life, not knowing how many times he has experienced death and the feeling of waking up to a strange and unfamiliar place, while his memories would flow to him like water in a stream. It comes in slow, steady, he’ll pick up broken shards of it and keep his fingers close—it will stab and make his hand bleed.

His hand, it was yours once. Clasped, held, weaved into the small gaps of your own. You held him as if he was yours to have—and he really is. He’ll walk through the busy streets with a gaze that roams everywhere, holding the anticipation, hope, that he’ll catch you amidst the crowds of people whose face appears to be nonexistent to him. 

(He’ll look for you everywhere he goes, in museums, flower shops, bookstores, in the rivers, in fields, on the ground, everywhere.)

“Oh no, I’m sorry!”

Books came falling, papers scattered all over the pavement, and he saw someone in front of him, seemingly panicking as they gather all of their things; Aventurine wasn’t a heartless man nor was he cruel so he knelt to the ground and picked up all the remaining papers before handing it to them—lifting his gaze, to be met by a pair of eyes that he looks for everywhere.

(And he’ll find you.)

There was once a moment where you remember him.

It wasn’t just a, “I passed by you on the streets and you caught my attention since and I think of you everyday,” but it was, “I know you because you existed in my life before this.” It was something he had never expected, a moment where he had to pinch himself on the thigh to see if this was one of his messy dreams but it hurt and his heart ached.

(In this life, you were lost, alone, not knowing what to do nor what you wished to do—you simply stood still as you watched the strangers passing by, as everything before you crumbled. In this life, you were nothing but his friend and he was nothing but yours.)

“I’m sorry?” He says, still in disbelief on what he is hearing. Maybe it was just his ears playing tricks on him, his mind playing illusions for him due to how much he misses you. Oh, if only you knew how tight your grasp is on him; it troubles him with the way he’ll catch you in the corner of his eye but there’s nothing there but dust, he’ll feel your presence everywhere even when you’re nowhere to be found.

“You’re him. The one that is always in my dreams.” Aventurine will open his mouth to speak but nothing would come out; he remains silent, unable to find the words to say.

“Rine.” His breath hitched. Everything faded into white noise and there was only you in his eyes—there was only you and him. He has long abandoned that name, taking on different ones in each passing life but even if he has left it behind, he always remembers how you used to call him so sweetly and gently as if he was the only one that matters to you. “I missed you.”

Your voice breaks and he swears, it felt like something inside him had shattered. How long has he waited for this moment? How much has he dreamt of the day that you’ll remember him? He didn’t think it was possible but he holds on to the thin thread of hope that you will.

“Do you… Do you not remember me?” You look hurt at that thought, your gaze wavering as you look at him with tear-stained eyes.

“I do.” He whispers, broken. “I do remember you.” He always remembers you. It’s a burden that he carries for so long but he will never let go—he wishes he could, he wishes he wanted to. Your voice, your touch, your laugh, your embrace, your eyes, everything about you will always come to haunt him; you are too entertwined with his soul, threads bound and tangled together in knots that can never be undone.

The two of you talk about everything on this night as the stars above you listen, as the moon will become a witness to the words and caresses. You’ll tell him of all the dreams that you had, memories that will haunt you the same way it haunted him.

“I’ll remember you tomorrow and even the days after. I’ll remember you, always, even in the next lifetimes.” You say, certainty and assurance seeps into the tone of his voice and a part of Aventurine feels relieved and broken at the same time.

He smiles, “You will.” (You don’t know it but this too will be buried in the grave of the past and he will come to mourn it in every moment he wakes.)

“Kiss me, please?” You didn’t have to beg for anything, you will never have to beg for anything. He has looked for the shadow of your form, for the sound of your footsteps and laughter, for the feeling of your hand in his. You will never have to beg him for anything—he’ll give you the world if you ask.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He whispers against your lips, his warm breath fanning your skin—a contrast to the cold night breeze that brushes against you.

“You’ll hear me tomorrow. I’ll call you, I promise. So please don’t keep your phone on silent.”

“I don’t. You’re the only person on my phone.”

You laugh at that, short and sweet. “Really?”

He kisses you once more, a fleeting one but the taste of his lips lingered on yours. “I only have you.”

The night draws to a close and Aventurine waits for the sun with bated breath but you weren’t able to fulfill your promise, for on the morning when the sun’s embrace caressed your skin, you remained in slumber’s hold.

It’s his second life, the life where he first remembers everything and when he is still not tormented by the burden (a curse) that he will hold all of the memories and you will remain in each one of them.

“I have a question.”

You lay your head on his shoulder, all the while your hand plays with his own. Your fingers softly dance across his palm and mindlessly sketches invisible patterns and traces the lines etched on it, while he watches, captivated by the ballet of your touch. There’s the fresh smell of shampoo and soap in the air around him, and the warmth of his hands provides a refreshing contrast to the coolness of your skin, still tingling from your recent bath.

In this life, you own a bookstore just like you wish and he’s simply just your lover.

“What is it?” He answers, watching you as you draw what seems to be a flower on his palm. He finds it endearing, every moment that he spends with you is all too sweet and dear for him, no matter how small and mundane it can be. He adores seeing you under this light, cherishes the way you melt into his embrace and how you hold him in your arms (he wishes everything would be this simple).

“How would you know if it was me?” The movement of your fingers comes to a halt as you look up to him to meet his gaze; eyes wide with curiosity and affection, he meets your gaze. Aventurine thinks for a moment before he answers:

“I’ll know if it’s you, always.”

You let out a short laugh, your expression breaking out into a soft one. “What if I was a worm then?”

“You’ll be the first worm to make my heart flutter.” There was no need for such questions—Aventurine will recognize you everywhere, in different forms, in different light.

“What if I was a stone?”

He chuckles, “I’ll know.”

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

#—stellaronhvnters. #aventurine #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine hsr #star rail aventurine #hsr fluff #hsr x reader #aventurine fluff #hsr #star rail #honkai x you #honkai imagines #honkai star rail #honkai #honkai x reader #star rail x reader #azul.writes

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 60 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Your bachelorette outing and Bradley's bachelor party are both hosted by the same person, but they couldn't be more different. Spending an evening at home with Noah is reminiscent of your babysitting days, but now he's asking you some pertinent questions.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, drinking, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Natasha was outside in her SUV on the driveway, ready to pick you up for your bachelorette outing. You refused to call it a bachelorette party since it was just the two of you going out for the evening, but Bradley made sure his best friend knew to spare no expense when it came to anything you wanted.

"It's just pedicures and pottery," you whispered against Bradley's lips with a smile as he held you close so he could feel your round belly against his body. "I'll be home in a few hours."

He grunted softly, kissing you a little deeper before releasing your lips. "We'll still miss you," he murmured, letting his hands roam along your hips while Noah sat on the area rug and worked on one of the new coloring books you picked up for him. "And don't overdo it." When Natasha started honking her horn, he let his forehead rest on your shoulder. "She's the worst."

You just laughed and kissed his cheek as you said, "She's the best, and you know it, Daddy."

It would have been impossible to dispute that fact. She was the one who took care of you when Bradley wasn't stateside. "Go have fun."

"Bye, Mommy!" Noah said, popping up to give you a hug when Bradley released you. He scooped his son up since he didn't want you lifting anything, and you gave Noah a kiss on the forehead.

"Have fun with Daddy," you told him, kissing him once more before heading outside to Nat's idling SUV. 

Bradley stood on the porch with Noah and waved until you were out of sight, and then Noah asked, "Can we get Mommy a coloring book?"

"Hey," Bradley said, nudging the door open while also making sure Skittles didn't get outside without her leash on. "That's a great idea, Bub. Maybe a Princess coloring book? You can give it to her for the wedding?"

His son looked so much like a tiny version of himself, and he had to stifle his laughter as Noah nodded stoically and said, "Yeah, she'd like that. I have so many great ideas."

Bradley took him back inside, and they ended up stretched out on the floor together. Noah continued with his masterpiece while Bradley started searching for options on his phone. After a few minutes, he found an independent shop that made coloring books with different themes based on photos that you send to them. "Do you like this?" he asked his son, holding up his phone.

Noah looked at the sample pages as Bradley scrolled through them. He nodded and said, "Mommy is prettier than that."

"She absolutely is," Bradley replied as he realized the wedding was in a week and didn't know if a custom book could even be completed in that short amount of time. "Let me see if we can get something like this for her. If not, we can always save it for her birthday."

His son started to pout at the mere mention of having to wait longer for it, so Bradley started typing up a message to the owner of the shop, hoping that he'd be able to explain that it was for his wedding. Once that was done, he checked the time and asked, "Do you need a snack before dinner?"

"Ants on logs," Noah replied without missing a beat. Bradley had no problem with the healthy snacks you somehow tricked the two of them into eating, but he was always told he never got the peanut butter proportions right.

"Yeah, okay. I can try to make them the way you like-"

"Mommy left some in the fridge."

Bradley chuckled as he stood up, coaxing Noah to abandon his coloring project for the time being. "Of course she did. She's the best." Somehow even when you weren't here, you had everything covered.

-----------------------------

"Okay, so if you could ditch Bradley and marry a celebrity, who would you pick?"

You burst out laughing in the pedicure chair next to Natasha with your hands resting on the roundest part of your belly. "Who said I would? Even if I could?" She gave you a look followed by an eye roll before you said, "You'll laugh at me, so I don't even want to say my answer."

"Just say it," she prompted as you dragged your foot through the warm water.

You groaned and said, "I like all the older, DILF-y actors."

Natasha started cackling as you covered your eyes with your hands. "You have a type!" she said amidst her laughter. "And your type is Rooster!"

You thought back to all the time you wasted with Greyson and other guys your age and grimaced. "I don't think that was always my type. It's a more recent development, and I'm not mad about it." You moved your hand on your belly and added, "Boy suck. Men are at least marginally better."

"Well," she said, leaning a little closer to you like she had a secret. "You found a good one. Or rather, I kind of found you for him. But regardless, he's a keeper. Kind of because he has Noah."

"Mostly because he has Noah," you told her, and then both of you were laughing.

After your nails were painted a vibrant purple, Natasha took you out for dinner and let you eat until you were full. You could tell your body and appetite were changing by the day, but you refused to feel self conscious about it in front of her. The two of you were sharing a slice of cake for dessert when you said, "He really did plan almost everything for the wedding. All I did was help him pick out matching suits for him and Noah to wear. And I picked out some flowers and my dress, but that's it."

Natasha hummed as she took another forkful of dessert. "I'm telling you, he'll always be good like that. He's a planner. Very responsible."

You felt silly telling her what was on your mind, but you said it anyway. "He pays my credit card bill. Not that I spend a lot! I try not to! I usually just buy groceries and things for Noah." She nodded like your words weren't as startling as you thought they were. "I kind of wanted to surprise him as a thank you, but if I buy something, he'll see it on the credit card statement."

Maybe you should have been wary of the smirk that found its way to her lips when Natasha said, "What if I rally the boys one night this week and take him out for a little bachelor party?"

"Oh," you said softly. "You'd do that? Just something lowkey?"

"Super lowkey," she agreed with a nod.

You could easily imagine them going to Top Golf or out for some drinks. "I think he might really like that."

"Or.... and just hear me out," she said, holding up her hands innocently after handing her credit card to the waiter. "Or, you let me absolutely roast him for the night."

You studied her face; how bad could it be? She was Bradley's best friend after all. Even if she was giving him a hard time, she'd probably make it fun. "What did you have in mind?" you asked as the two of you left the restaurant and headed for the pottery boutique down the block.

"A few things I'm going to need your approval for," she replied casually. And while you worked on making yourself a mug that said Noah's Mommy, you listened to Natasha's not-so-lowkey plans for Thursday night. By the time your mug actually looked like a mug, you gave her full approval.

"I almost feel bad about this," you told her with a laugh.

"I don't."

-------------------------------

The following evening after Noah was in bed, Bradley set you up for a nice shower while he cleaned up the kitchen from the chicken enchiladas you made for dinner. When Nat called him, he held his phone to his shoulder with his cheek and kept working.

He answered the call and asked, "Hey, what's up?"

"Your bachelor party with me and the guys starts at six o'clock on Thursday evening."

He laughed in response. "It's funny that this is the first time I'm hearing about it."

Bradley could practically feel her rolling her eyes through the phone. "Just be ready to go."

"Ready for what?" he asked, knowing better than to just trust her with this. The dating app was one thing, and that had turned out great in the end, but he wasn't going to blindly go with her on this.

"Uhhh... just some stuff."

"Natasha."

"Bradley."

"What did you do?"

There was a brief pause before she said, "Just be ready for dinner, booze and some strippers."

With a deep sigh, Bradley closed his eyes and said, "I'm going to have to check with my wife-to-be about the strippers, Nat." You had to know by now that you had nothing to worry about, and he wasn't even all that keen on going to a strip club, but he didn't want you to be upset.

"She knows the plan."

He froze as he loaded the dishwasher. "She does?"

Natasha laughed, and Bradley swore he felt his skin crawl. "She does. Be ready for six o'clock on Thursday."

"We have work on Friday-" 

She already ended the call. Bradley finished cleaning up when he heard you getting out of the shower. "God damn it, Nat," he muttered as he turned off the kitchen lights and made his way back to the bedroom where you were all wrapped up in a towel.

"Hi, Daddy."

He groaned at your words and your little smirk. "Hey, Baby. Can we talk for a minute?"

Your eyebrows shot up as you held your towel around you a little tighter. "What's wrong? Is it something about the wedding? Did the marriage license not go through? We only have six days."

"No, no," he promised, reaching for you. "It's not that. It's... I just got off the phone. With Nat."

You looked relieved as you leaned against him. "Good. I was worried for a second."

Bradley didn't quite know how to approach this topic now that he was here. Natasha would be as tenacious as a junkyard dog about her plans, so he had to say something. "You don't have anything to worry about."

You laughed softly. "That sounds nice."

He cleared his throat and said, "Nat called about my bachelor party night?" 

It came out more like a question than a statement, but you just nodded and said, "Dinner and drinks and the strip club."

"Yeah," he rasped. "You approved this whole thing?"

"Mmhmm. To be fair, it was all her idea. I just told her it was okay."

Bradley tipped your chin so you were looking up at him, your face fresh and perfect after your shower. "If this plan is not okay with you, then I'm not going."

"It's okay with me," you replied easily. "I trust you."

He studied your face. "I feel like I'm going to end up babysitting everyone on a work night. Two days before the wedding."

You snorted in response. "You'll have fun. And so will everyone else. You should go."

"Yeah, I'm going," he groaned. "Nat will just have the guys drag me out if I don't go willingly. But I don't really care about looking at strippers. I got you and your perfect tits right here at home."

You didn't stop him when he slowly tugged your towel from your fingers and pulled it open. And yeah, your tits looked perfect, but so did the swell of your pregnant belly and your soft skin. He was hard as soon as the towel hit the floor. 

"Daddy," you whined softly, shivering in his arms. It was December, and the nights were chilly in San Diego; you had taken to snuggling with him even more than usual in your sleep. "Now you need to warm me up."

"My pleasure," he replied, scooping you up and dropping you carefully onto the king sized bed that you picked out for the room. "Let me start right here," he whispered before he kissed you softly, covering your body gently with his. "Feeling warmer?"

You shifted beneath him, spreading your legs wider so he was nestled against your pussy, his cock straining against his jeans zipper. "A little bit," you whispered innocently. 

Bradley smirked, and when he brought his hand up to stroke your breast, he said, "I told you, I got these perfect tits right here."

"Bradley," you giggled as his fingers skimmed along your skin, but when he stroked his thumb across your tightly furled nipple, you arched your back and made a raspy gasping sound. Your eyes went wide as you looked up at him. "Oh my god," you moaned.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling his hand away, but you were already nodding vigorously. 

"It felt really good." The words rushed right from your lips as you rolled your hips up to meet his. "Different, I guess. I can't explain it."

When he rubbed your nipple between his thumb and index finger, he smirked. You were instantly squirming and moaning, reaching for his zipper with one hand and his hair with the other. Your eyes were wild even though he was being gentle, and he dipped his head down to whisper in your ear. "You're extra sensitive right now. It's the pregnancy hormones." He plucked and stroked as you started panting. "God damn, Princess. You like that?"

"Yes!" Your voice already sounded broken, and he'd barely touched you.

"Shh. Keep quiet like a good girl." But his words and hand seemed to have the opposite effect on you, because you just got louder. Bradley reached down to where you had his cock free from his zipper and pulled your hand up to his lips. He kissed your fingers before shoving them a little rough into your mouth. "You have to be quiet if you want me to play with you."

You moaned around your own fingers but nodded your head, and at least you were quieter now as Bradley kissed his way from your neck down to your tits. He didn't know how he was going to manage you when there were two kids in the house trying to sleep, but at the moment, he didn't really care. You were going to be his wife in a few short days. That thought alone had him bucking his cock against the bedding as he ran his mustache along your peaked nipple, inhaling your wildflower scent.

When he pulled your nipple into his mouth and sucked, he could tell your breasts were already a little bit bigger than before. Soon you'd be bigger everywhere. Getting even more sensitive by the day. He was painfully hard right now, listening to your muffled screams and tasting you. He licked and sucked until your tits were both damp from his mouth and overstimulated from his mustache. 

When you started bucking up, Bradley eased his hand down to cup your pussy and found that you were soaked. He couldn't remember Meredith getting quite like this as he dipped his middle finger into your slick and easing it down to your hole.

"Daddy," you gasped as you pulled your fingers from your mouth. "I'm going to come."

You looked shocked by your statement as you sank down around his finger. He could already feel your tight pussy fluttering around him as he whispered, "You want me to make it so good?"

His only answer was a whimper as you bit your lip, and he knew he'd make sure you were always taken care of in every way. Carefully, he added a second finger and started to circle your clit with his thumb. You were shaking a bit, your pretty tits bouncing softly as he ran his nose down the valley between your breasts. 

"Be a good girl. You know where to put those fingers, Princess," he coaxed, watching you slip them between your lips. Then he let you have his mouth on your tits again, while his hand worked at your pussy. He carefully drew a shaking orgasm out of you as you slobbered on your own fingers, not stopping until he was afraid you'd be too far gone soon.

"Daddy," you whined around your fingers as he ran his tongue flat across your nipple.

"Let me fuck you," he begged, realizing he was already close and needing to be inside you. "Please, Baby."

You reached for his cock and guided him home, and he fucked you with his jeans barely pulled down, coming inside you after just a few strokes. You were the picture of sated perfection with his cum oozing out of your pussy and your wet fingers skimming along your swollen belly and breasts. You were his young, pristine babysitter and his pregnant wife-to-be and everything in between. "I love you."

"Keep me warm all night, Daddy."

---------------------------

As you sent Bradley off with Natasha, you shared a conspiratorial look with her. You only felt slightly bad for keeping the bachelor party plans to yourself, and ultimately it made you feel good when Bradley went out for the night in an old pair of jeans and an uninspired shirt. He didn't look the part of a man who wanted to try to dazzle some strippers, and you loved him for it. 

"Bye, Bub," he said, kneeling to kiss Noah where he stood at your side. "Be good for Mommy." Then he stood and kissed you deeply. "I won't be out late, okay?"

"Stay out as late as you want," you told him, running your fingers along his cheek as he pulled away from you. "Just don't have a hangover on Saturday."

He smiled and focused on your face even as Nat and the guys yelled at him from Javy's car in the driveway. "Our wedding day. It'll be perfect. Like you."

"Go," you told him with a laugh even as you had butterflies in your belly. "Have fun. We'll be here when you get home."

With one more kiss, he was off and jogging down the walkway. You watched him climb into the backseat, then they all waved at you as Javy backed out of the driveway with Natasha in the front seat. You were wondering how long it would be until Bradley called you to tell you he had in fact been taken to see a bunch of male strippers. The guys had apparently all been so excited when Natasha mentioned the strip club, she had a hard time holding in her laughter. The plan all along was that she'd take Bradley and the rest of them to dinner and then to The Tiger's Cage- San Diego's premier male review.

But you didn't hear from them at all while you and Noah ate macaroni and cheese together. You still didn't hear a word as the two of you took Skittles for a short walk to look at Christmas lights. You even let Noah dip his hands in green paint to make a Christmas tree art project to hang on the refrigerator, but nobody called or texted you.

"Mommy?" Noah asked as you got him changed into his dinosaur pajamas. "Are you going to adopt me?"

You smiled and kissed him on his chubby cheek. "I am," you promised. But when you looked at his face, his brow was pinched with worry.

"Is it going to hurt?"

"Oh, Noah," you said with a surprised laugh, pulling him into your arms and holding him against his growing younger sibling. "Not at all! It won't feel like anything."

"Then why are you going to do it?" he asked, face muffled by your shoulder.

You soothed his back with your hand, considering his question. For all intents and purposes, you really were his mom. Bradley added you to his will; if anything happened to him, Noah was solely yours. "I kind of want to have a little piece of paper with an official signature that says we get to be together forever. Does that sound okay?"

"That's adoption?" he asked. 

"That's adoption."

"Yeah, okay," he agreed with a little shrug before climbing into bed. "Can I sleep with Skittles again?"

The pup appeared in the doorway, always excited to hear her name. "She can stay in here until Daddy gets home." You set the dog in bed with him and gave him a little kiss on his forehead as he yawned. "I love you."

"Love you, Mommy." He was half asleep as you turned on his night light and left the room. When you checked your phone, you smiled, having finally received the message you were waiting for. 

Bradley Bradshaw: Nat brought us to The Tiger's Cage. My name is on the marquee. It says CONGRATULATIONS DADDY BRADSHAW

You were doubled over in laughter, holding your belly and trying not to wet yourself. Because he also sent a picture. All of the guys were lined up under the marquee sign, and you were pleased to see that they all looked like they were being good sports about the entire thing. Bradley was the only one who looked slightly mortified.

You texted back Go have fun, Daddy Bradshaw!

Natasha sent you some random photos as you got ready for bed. You were surprised Jake was there, given your history with him, but even he looked like he was having fun. You laughed at a picture of Bradley drinking something pink and blended, and then the photos stopped. 

You wondered what was going on, but you kept yourself busy. Bradley told you not to clean up, promising to take care of everything tomorrow night before the wedding in the backyard on Saturday afternoon. Since you had the time and the privacy, you tried on your wedding dress one last time, sliding the fabric along your legs and zipping it up your side. You grabbed your purple paper crown, which was looking a lot worse for the wear now, and set it on your head. 

When you looked in the mirror, you smiled. The dress fit like a dream and hugged your bump. The crown looked fun at the moment, but you wouldn't wear it on Saturday; you were pretty sure Bradley considered it a 'bedroom' item at this point anyway. Mostly, you looked happy. Like someone who was accepted in this perfect place. Like a woman who was needed here. And you needed the Bradshaw boys to be your family.

You wore the dress around for a few minutes before carefully unzipping it and getting ready for bed. It was late now, but you requested the day off tomorrow, and you wanted to see Bradley when he got home from his bachelor party. After you checked on Noah and Skittles, you curled up on the living room couch. 

Every time you stopped to think about the wedding, you got a little anxious. When you asked Bradley what he had planned for dinner for the reception, he just told you he had everything under control. He said all you had to do was show up with some sort of wedding vows, but he didn't tell you anything that he had planned. 

You dozed off on the couch, somehow still exhausted all the time, and you had no idea how late it was when you woke up to the sound of laughter and a key in the front door.

"You smell like Axe body spray. I can't believe someone is marrying you."

"Jesus fuck, Nat. I smell like Axe because you took me to see male strippers."

"Well, I know I had a great time tonight," Natasha cackled as she guided Bradley inside, and you stood up with your hand clasped over your mouth. He was a swaying mess, and he was holding a huge wad of cash and a bag from a convenience store.

"Princess," he crooned softly when he saw you, and your heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes.

"Hi, Daddy."

And then he was on you, so gentle in his overindulgence, it was almost surprising. He was looking around like he wasn't sure what to do with everything he was holding, trying to touch your belly.

"I'll see you on Saturday," Natasha said with a smile as she closed the door behind her, and then you were alone with him. 

"What's in the bag? Are why are you holding a roll of cash?" you asked as you guided him to the couch. 

He sat down hard and handed everything to you as you stood between his splayed legs. "The strippers were dudes. I made Nat and Javy stop so I could get you some Skittles. I'm really drunk. Can we get married soon?"

When you looked in the bag you found six packs of your favorite candy. "Wow, you must be very intoxicated if you bought a pack of Sour Skittles too."

"Did I?" he asked before stretching out on the couch. "Shit. I'll eat them. Come here."

You sat on the floor next to him and handed him the bag of Sour Skittles as you counted the nearly seven hundred dollars you were holding. "Bradley, where did this come from?" you asked in alarm.

But he just crunched on some of the candy in response. "Oh, these are fucking nasty. Baby, can we please get married?" he rambled, dumping more Skittles into his mouth.

You pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him there. "Were getting married in like thirty-six hours. Now can you please tell me where you got this money from?"

"Huh?" he grunted like he'd never seen it before. "Oh. Oh, that." Then he casually dumped the rest of the Sour Skittles and chewed them up while you laughed and shook his arm.

"Bradley!"

He swallowed and dropped the wrapper on the floor before pulling you up onto the couch with him. "Jake got tips for stripping, and Nat made him give me the cash."

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked with in shock as you tried to settle into a comfortable position on him.

"They tried to get Daddy Bradshaw up on stage. I pointed to Jake and said it was him."

You couldn't stop laughing now. "But you got the cash?"

"Yeah," he said, eyes drifting closed as he propped his arm behind his head. "A wedding gift. For the honeymoon."

Just as you settled your head on his chest, you popped back up again. "Are we going on a honeymoon?" You started to feel a little apprehensive about going away for an extended trip without Noah while you were pregnant, but Bradley brought his big hand up to settle on your back as he snuggled in a little more.

"Next year. After the baby's born. Anywhere you want to go."

He really did kind of smell like Axe body spray, and he definitely needed to take a shower, but you let him hold you for a few minutes while he slept.

------------------------------

Part 61 will be their wedding! Thanks so much for reading and letting me share this family with you! We're almost to the finish line. Thanks @caitsymichelle13 for the request about the coloring book; stay tuned. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[edenesth]

TWTHH Spinoff: Little Touch of Heaven [2]

Pairing: physician!Yunho x herbalist!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 8.1k

Summary: Dedicating his life to his work, Yunho had never bothered to entertain the idea of settling down. Despite encountering many charming women throughout his career, none had sparked his desire for companionship. But everything shifted when he met a certain herbalist whose medicinal knowledge seemed to surpass even his own. What began as mere intrigue might have gradually developed into affection.

Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist

"Yep, you definitely have a crush on her," Jongho's voice startled the physician as he appeared soundlessly by the entrance of the House of Lotus just as Yunho finished recounting what happened to the general. His wife listened patiently beside him, her smile knowing.

"What—hey! Have you been eavesdropping this entire time? That's rude. This is a private and confidential conversation between the couple and myself," the doctor stammered, feeling embarrassed beyond belief. He couldn't believe he had been foolish enough to think this could actually stay between him and Lady Park. At this point, the whole estate was going to find out.

"You seem oddly defensive, Physician Jung. That just further proves you are flustered and that you do indeed like Miss Ryu. Besides, I don't see anything private and confidential about that story. Sounds more like your desperate attempt to save face," the assistant retorted in his usual clever tone as he entered the room, having received a nod of approval from his master.

Yunho let out a defeated sigh, realising that while he might stand a chance at winning an argument with Hongjoong, the same couldn't be said for Jongho. The assistant could be merciless and would stop at nothing to have the last word. Glaring at the younger man, he muttered, "Yes, yes. Just you wait until your turn comes. I'd like to see how cool you are when you meet the girl of your dreams."

"Don't worry, that'll never happen," Jongho answered, his tone smug.

With a shake of his head, Seonghwa straightened up, "He's right, Yunho. Even the blind can tell you have a crush. But what is it, Jongho? Did something come up?"

The assistant nodded, "Yes, Royal Secretary Choi is here with the latest reports and minutes of the past week's assemblies. He's waiting for you in the study, unless you'd like me to bring him here too."

Choking on his tea, the doctor stared up at him, bewildered, "And why the hell would you do that? It's enough that you two already know about this, now you want the royal secretary to hear about it too?"

At that, the general and his wife burst into giggles. Finally satisfied and deciding not to tease the poor guy any further, Seonghwa pushed himself off his seat, "Have a little mercy on him, gosh," he said, turning to his wife and pressing a kiss onto her head, "You ladies continue. I'll see you later, my love."

"This is how you repay me for treating your wife," Yunho grumbled.

Pausing at the entrance of the room, the general softened and turned around, "You know, it's nice to see this side of you. This Miss Ryu must be pretty amazing to make you like this, I approve of her already. Make sure you invite us to the wedding," he said before leaving with Jongho.

"W-wedding? I don't even think she likes me at all. If anything, she probably hates me after what happened," the physician sighed.

Lady Park smiled reassuringly, a hand stroking her baby bump as she spoke, "I disagree. She did agree to teach you about herbs, tried to save you from your fall, and was even kind enough to bring you a change of clothes when she could have left you be."

"So, you think she likes me back?" His eyes brightened with hope.

She considered her words carefully before responding, "Hmm, not necessarily."

His disappointment was palpable as he slumped slightly, "My lady, please don't confuse me further."

With a gentle chuckle, the mistress clarified, "What I mean is that she probably does not hate you at all. Sure, you were a little clumsy around her, but that's not nearly enough to make her hate you. There's a chance she might grow to like you back. Don't be too dejected, Yunho; there's still hope."

God, I sure hope so.

Meanwhile, your parents hadn't stopped talking about the physician since that day. Your father eagerly handed over one of his many spare outfits kept at the store for emergencies, finally putting it to good use after Yunho's fall left his clothes soaked. You recalled trying your hardest to keep a straight face as the tall man emerged in your father's hanbok, which was slightly too short for him, ending above his ankles and making him look rather ridiculous.

"Right, well, I still have much left to do today. I don't think I'll be able to finish in time if I have to teach you. Perhaps you should come back another day, Physician Jung."

That wasn't a lie.

It wasn't that you were angry with him or anything; you could tell he was remorseful with his endless apologies. You could imagine the embarrassment he was feeling, and you didn't really blame him, but you genuinely wanted to finish up with your Sophora root harvesting, which you had obviously failed to even begin thanks to him. So you would really appreciate it if he could come back some other time for his session.

"Of course, Miss Ryu. Again, I'm so sorry—"

You lifted a hand to stop him with a shake of your head, "It's fine. Now if you'll excuse me, I really have no time to talk."

It had been a few days since then.

According to your father, Yunho had left somewhat dejectedly after purchasing a good amount of those Chinese herbs you'd recommended for Lady Park. You supposed that meant they were effective, and you were just glad you had been able to help.

"Sunshine, you must have been too blunt. You'll scare him away like that, and you shouldn't because he's such a good guy. For all we know, this could be the start of something great," your mother said as she handed you a bowl of congee for breakfast.

You rolled your eyes in response, "Oh my god, mother. You've been saying that for the past few days. I heard you the first time."

Just as you were about to start eating, she smacked you on the arm, scolding, "Then why won't you reflect on yourself and change? You really want to give me high blood pressure, don't you?"

"Ow!" you rubbed your arm, pouting at her, "What do you want me to do? It's not my fault he hasn't shown up yet. Besides, if that was all it took to scare him away, then maybe he's not the one," you said before making a face when you realised what you'd just said, "More importantly, nothing is going on between us. He's only coming to learn more about herbs and improve as a medical practitioner. Seems to me like you and father are making a fuss out of nothing."

Your father sighed as he took a seat across from you, "Listen, sunshine. I can tell he likes you. It was evident in his behaviour that day. He's usually so composed, but he seemed genuinely flustered."

After hastily finishing the congee, you chuckled and set your bowl down, "Come on, father. You've only ever been in one relationship. Since when are you an expert in this department?" you teased before growing serious and wiping your mouth clean.

"And for the last time, my dearest father and mother, the two people I love most in the world, can you please respect my wishes? I won't be able to continue seeing Physician Jung if you keep making things weird like this. I've made my stance on marriage very clear. I'm not interested, and I still am not. I've finally found a friend who shares my passion for herbs, and I want to keep things that way. Please don't make me regret it."

As you spoke those honest words, a stunned silence filled the room. Your parents exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from surprise to realisation. They had always admired your patience, your selflessness, and your unwavering dedication to your family. But in their pursuit of what they thought was best for you, they had overlooked your desires and feelings.

Your father's eyes softened, and he reached out to gently squeeze your hand, "Sunshine, we never meant to make you feel uncomfortable or pressured. We only wanted what we thought was best for you, but we see now that we may have been misguided."

Your mother nodded, her voice trembling with emotion, "You've always been so selfless. We should have listened to your wishes instead of imposing our own desires onto you. We're truly sorry."

Seeing the genuine remorse in their eyes, your heart softened. While you understood their actions were driven by good intentions, they may not have realised that their approach inadvertently caused you more distress than anything. You were just relieved they were willing to listen to you and acknowledge their mistake.

"It's okay, father, mother," you said softly, giving their hands a reassuring squeeze, "I know you only want what's best for me. Let's learn from this and move forward together."

"Here goes nothing," Yunho muttered under his breath as the apothecary came into view. This would be his first appearance since the embarrassing last impression he had left, and he was determined to salvage it. Holding his breath, he stepped into the store, expecting to see Mr. Ryu alone at his counter as usual. However, he was surprised to find you dressed more formally than usual, appearing to be preparing to go somewhere.

Upon hearing his entrance, you turned to face him with a raised brow, "Oh, you're here. I'm sorry, but I won't be able to teach you today. Our foreign medicine supplier has arrived, and I have to go to the ship dock to collect our latest batch of orders."

The physician felt like he could finally breathe again, relieved by your casual reaction to his presence. Perhaps Lady Park was right; you weren't angry with him nor did you hate him. Smiling, he reassured you, "Oh, it's alright. I understand. I can come back another day. Are you going with Mr. Ryu then? Will the shop be closing?"

You shook your head, "Oh no, not at all. It's just me. My father remains here, and business will go on as usual. He's at the back of the store; he'll be here soon if you wish to speak with him."

She's going alone? To the dock?

"I... uh, I'm just wondering, is it really safe for you to go alone? Places like that are often crowded with men. And how will you manage to carry all those supplies by yourself?" he asked, his worry evident.

With a smirk, you replied, "Are you underestimating me, Physician Jung? Do you truly believe it's my first time handling this? I appreciate your concern, but I assure you, I'll manage just fine."

Right on cue, your father emerged from the back of the store, "Ah, you've come, Physician Jung! Are you here for another session with my daughter? She may have already mentioned her plans for today, but perhaps you could accompany her."

Before Yunho could respond, you firmly shook your head, "There's no need for that, father. I'm certain he's a very busy man and probably has better things to do than accompany me to the dock."

The physician quickly interjected, "No, I don't. That's why I'm here today. I don't mind going with you. It could be a valuable experience, and I might learn something from it too," he reasoned.

You sighed, not oblivious to the knowing grin your father was sending the taller man. With a roll of your eyes, you motioned for him to follow, "Suit yourself. Come along then, there's no time to waste."

As the two of you set out towards the ship dock in town, his tall frame loomed beside you, serving the fantastic purpose of shielding you from the glaring sun. Breaking the silence, you ventured, "So, I'm assuming the Codonopsis roots and Colla Corii Asini were effective in helping Lady Park feel better? Since you got more on your last visit."

He beamed, nodding in agreement, "Oh, yes! They really were. I was planning to tell you about it on my last visit, but, well, you know..." He trailed off, trying to move past the incident before continuing, "But yes, they did wonders. Her morning sickness and fatigue improved immensely soon after taking only the first batch. If we continue to administer this, she should be able to get through the first three months with ease. And I... I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you so much, Miss Ryu."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread in your heart at the knowledge that your expertise had been put to good use, that you had been of help. Moments like these made you feel as though all the hard work you had put into studying had paid off; the sense of accomplishment was truly remarkable. With a nonchalant shrug, you responded earnestly, "Just doing my job."

Becoming increasingly intrigued by the conversation about medicine, he eagerly delved further, "I've been pondering it, and I'm still astounded by your depth of knowledge, even in foreign herbs. Frankly, I believe you surpass some senior experts in the field. It may be impertinent of me to ask, but... what's your secret?"

With a soft laugh, you shook your head, "Sometimes, there are aspects that textbooks and conventional lessons fail to impart. That's why hands-on experience is crucial. There's no secret to my knowledge; I simply allow my curiosity to guide me and take the initiative to delve deeper beyond the fundamentals. You'll see firsthand in just a moment. Perhaps it's good you came."

Just when he thought his admiration for you had reached its peak, you consistently proved him wrong. Beyond your shared passion for medicinal knowledge, there was an intangible quality that distinguished you from other women he had met. You exuded confidence in yourself, not in a brash manner, nor did you conform to the typical feminine archetype attempting to win his favour. Instead, you were authentically yourself. Every action you took reflected your unique personality, which he found irresistibly appealing.

Where have you been all this while?

He couldn't fathom that you had been so close yet remained unknown to him for all these years. As a devoted patron of your father's apothecary, he had frequented the establishment without ever realising that you were nearby, just behind the store's walls. He couldn't be more grateful to fate for allowing him to finally cross paths with you.

"Woah, watch your step!" Your warning snapped him out of his thoughts as you pulled him close, narrowly avoiding a hole in the uneven road. You slapped him on the arm and said, "Please pay attention to where you're going. The roads here won't be as well-paved as the ones in the city, since we're now on the outskirts. Come on and stay close; we're almost there."

With a chuckle, he rubbed his arm and playfully saluted, "Yes, ma'am." He couldn't believe you had slapped him so casually; no one had ever done that. His heart fluttered at the interaction, realising that's what he liked so much about you. Since day one, you have been unpretentious. Around you, he felt comfortable enough to be himself again. There was no need to uphold the image of the perfect physician everyone knew him to be. He could be silly, clumsy, a mess, and you'd never make him feel bad about it.

As you arrived at the ship dock, Yunho's sense of wonder was palpable. The place bustled with activity, just as he had anticipated, mostly with men who appeared to be merchants conducting exchanges or, like yourself, collecting orders directly from suppliers. He made sure to stay close to you, feeling reassured when you took hold of his wrist to guide him through the crowd towards your destination.

"First time here?" you smirked, noting his slightly overwhelmed expression, to which he nodded hesitantly, "Y-yes."

You snickered, "Figures. Just stick with me, and you'll be fine."

He nervously bit his lip, "Yeah, I'm not going anywhere without you. Don't worry."

"See that ship right at the end?" you asked, pointing towards one of the largest vessels in the area as you both approached it. He nodded in acknowledgement.

"That's our supplier, kind of a family business," you explained, "The Guo family from China has been in this trade for years. They're known to grow their own herbs and supply them all over the region."

You smirked as the familiar face of Madam Guo came into view, "And there's the lady boss who handles customers while the boss checks the stocks. Don't worry, she's actually the owner's wife, so you won't embarrass yourself like you did before again," you teased, playfully reminding him of his previous mistake, which flustered him.

"Oh my god, it was one mistake—"

A new voice chimed in as you both reached the ship, "Ah, my dearest Miss Ryu!" The woman exclaimed with a thick Chinese accent as she stepped forward to embrace you. You chuckled, returning the hug, "It's lovely to see you again, Madam Guo."

"And who might this handsome young man be? Finally got yourself a chaperone, I see," Madam Guo asked, her playful tone evident as she wiggled her brows.

You scoffed in disbelief, "Him, a chaperone? More like the other way around. But anyway, he's a friend, or perhaps an apprentice, whichever works. He's a physician here to learn more about herbs."

Did she just call me her friend...?

"Y-yes, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Madam Guo. My name is Jung Yunho, and I'm a physician just as Miss Ryu said," he greeted, bowing respectfully, doing everything to remain composed and hide the fact that he was dying on the inside.

The middle-aged woman grinned knowingly, "Nice to meet you too, Physician Jung. But is that really all you are? What a shame, you two would make a cute couple."

While he sputtered like a fool, you snorted and gestured for her to focus, "Please, let's get down to business."

"Of course, sweetie. Follow me," she said, throwing a teasing wink at Yunho before wrapping an arm around you and leading you towards the bags of supplies lined up in front of the ship, "So, how are your parents doing, Miss Ryu?" As you engaged with the woman, the doctor couldn't shake her words from his mind. 'A cute couple' — he liked that idea more than he cared to admit. If only it could come true, he wouldn't mind being mistaken for a couple with you.

The bond between you and Yunho strengthened significantly after your eventful joint excursion to the ship dock. He proved to be quite helpful, offering to carry the supplies you had collected.

However, it was an incident during your return to the apothecary that truly changed your perception of him. As you passed by an injured man involved in a carriage accident, his demeanour shifted instantly. With remarkable professionalism, he attended to the wounded man, showcasing his expertise and skill. It was a side of him you hadn't seen before, and in that moment, you couldn't help but feel a newfound admiration for him.

For the first time, he embodied the charismatic and excellent Physician Jung who was widely praised by the townspeople. You finally understood why he had earned such acclaim for his expertise.

While you had grown confident enough to consider him a good friend, the doctor, on the other hand, was grappling with his feelings for you. After each session, he would return to the general's estate seeking advice from the mistress on the best approach to pursue you without being too forward. Despite his desire to openly court you, he wanted to ensure that your feelings were mutual before making any moves, fearing he might scare you away.

Following Lady Park's suggestion, he opted for a more gradual approach, using the opportunity to learn about herbs as a means to get to know you better, and vice versa. By taking things slowly, he hoped to foster mutual feelings between you.

As he prepared to enjoy his lunch break at his clinic, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of spending the evening with you. Tonight's session held particular significance as you would be teaching him how to harvest specific nighttime herbs for optimal quality. It promised to be a new and exciting experience, and he was just happy about the opportunity to share it with you.

"What's got you smiling like a creep?"

Just like that, the sound of an annoyingly familiar voice sliced through the doctor's pleasant mood like a knife, abruptly snapping him out of his reverie. His smile vanished as soon as he locked eyes with the dressmaker. With an exasperated sigh and a roll of his eyes, he responded, "What do you want, Kim Hongjoong?"

Yunho held his breath momentarily, his mind racing with anxious thoughts. What if Seonghwa had betrayed him and told his friend everything about Miss Ryu? What if Hongjoong was here to tease him after finding out? Oh god, his life would be over—

But to his surprise, the older man's expression was one of genuine distress as he took a seat across from the physician, "Look, ugh... I never thought I'd say this, but I need your help. Can you lend me an ear? I'm... well, I'm in a bit of a situation."

What started as a brief lunchtime conversation stretched into half a day, with the dressmaker pouring out his heart about his latest client, the enigmatic Miss Baek, whom he clearly harboured feelings for. By the end of their exchange, though a bit flustered that Hongjoong had caught wind of his recent visits to Ryu's Apothecary and your presence there, he was simply relieved to have managed to extricate himself from the conversation in time to close up shop. But one thing was certain; any fleeting relief Yunho felt at the general's discretion evaporated instantly.

Of course, Seonghwa told him everything.

Relieved to see the dressmaker finally departing from his clinic, the physician wasted no time in packing up his belongings and closing the shop. If only Hongjoong hadn't taken up so much of his time with his endless chatter, Yunho would have already been on his way to the apothecary. He cursed the talkative man for being so long-winded; he had worked hard to gain your trust, and he didn't want to jeopardise it again due to tardiness.

"Ugh, I hope that Miss Baek continues to give him a hard time. If I end up late because of him, he's going to pay," the doctor grumbled to himself as he hurried out of his clinic and towards your store. While part of him knew you wouldn't mind him being slightly late, he didn't want you to be okay with it. He wanted to be a man of his word, to be someone you could trust.

Arriving promptly, Yunho found Mr. Ryu in the midst of closing up. The elderly man's face lit up at the sight of the taller man, "Ah, Physician Jung, right on time! She's in the back, as usual, waiting for you. Now, it'll be late by the time you two finish up. I'm trusting you to escort her home after your session, is that alright?"

Yunho straightened up and bowed respectfully, "Of course, Mr. Ryu! Don't worry, I'll ensure she gets home safely."

"Very well then, I'm leaving her in your hands," the apothecary said with a teasing wink, "You've got this."

Feeling a flush of warmth in his cheeks, Yunho waved your father goodbye, understanding the elderly man's implication. It wasn't a secret that your parents wished for you to settle down, and they had made it clear on more than one occasion that the doctor had their approval. The only remaining factor was you and your feelings.

"Oh hey, there you are," you greeted warmly from your usual spot amidst the plantation, a natural smile gracing your features as you met his gaze. It was a smile that stirred something in his heart, though he kept that to himself, "Before you come over, could you please grab me a pair of harvesting scissors and the herb stripper?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied with a salute, already accustomed to your directives. By now, he was familiar with most of the tools on your rack. Over the past few sessions, he had made an effort to acquaint himself with the intricacies of your work, determined to be helpful even as he continued to learn. Besides, he wanted you to know that you could rely on him, and that he could shoulder some of your burdens. He wanted you to see him the way he saw you.

"Thank you," you murmured, taking the tools from him and feeling him settle beside you. Your hands immediately got to work, launching into an automatic lecture tone as your focus zeroed in on the four moon garden herbs you would be harvesting tonight: the White Coneflower, the Lavender, the Culinary Sage, and the Silver Queen.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his gaze fixed on your side profile illuminated by the moonlight and the surrounding lamps instead of the herbs. It was the first time he had seen you in this soft, dim light, and you looked truly ethereal, the atmosphere lending an intimate and romantic feel to the moment.

Oblivious to his stare, you smiled in response, "They are exquisite, aren't they? Sometimes it pains me to have to harvest them. But they serve a greater purpose than just sitting here and looking pretty."

"Well, I believe that's what adds to their beauty, wouldn't you agree? The fact that they serve a purpose beyond mere aesthetics," he remarked, subtly hinting at his admiration for your depth and substance. To him, you were more than just a pretty face, and he found that incredibly appealing.

Noticing a stray strand of hair framing your face, he instinctively reached out to tuck it behind your ear. You tensed at his touch, turning to meet his gaze, and in that moment, he realised what he had just done. Clearing his throat nervously, he stammered, "I-I was just trying to help. It looked like it was bothering you."

You nodded, trying to mask the fluttering sensation in your chest at his gesture. He was probably just being polite, you reasoned with yourself, but you couldn't deny the allure of his presence in the soft glow of the moonlight. Quickly refocusing on your task, you blinked and responded, "Oh, umm... thank you. I appreciate it."

The tension in the air was palpable as you finished the remainder of tonight's session, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words and newfound awareness. It was as if a shift had occurred, leaving you both acutely conscious of each other's presence in a way that hadn't been there before.

As you locked up the apothecary for the night, the physician turned to you with a casual invitation, "Would you like to grab something to eat before heading home?" You paused, considering the offer. Your parents were likely done with dinner by now, so joining him wouldn't be a bad idea. With a nod, you replied, "Sure, let's go."

Despite his calm demeanour, a sense of anticipation fluttered in his chest as you walked side by side, his mind buzzing with excitement, "Come on, I know a stall that sells amazing black bean noodles," he suggested, leading the way with a smile.

Moments later, you were both seated at the stall, eagerly devouring the delicious noodles. With wide eyes, you exclaimed, "Oh my gosh, you weren't lying. This really is amazing." He chuckled at your enthusiasm before reaching over to wipe a stray noodle from the corner of your lips with his thumb, "You eat like a child, you know that?" he teased gently.

Your heart skipped a beat at his touch, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading through you at his words. Despite your unladylike eating habits, he didn't seem to mind. At that moment, you found yourself imagining what it would be like to be with someone like him, and surprisingly, it didn't seem so bad at all. In fact, it felt quite nice to imagine being by his side — Jung Yunho.

Just when the physician felt confident about the progress between the two of you, just as he was considering broaching the topic of a potential courtship, an unexpected turn of events threw everything off course. An argument erupted during one of your recent sessions, escalating into a silent standoff that led to his prolonged absence.

It all began innocently enough, during one of your routine sessions. Feeling more at ease around you, he summoned the courage to ask, "I was wondering... do you know of any herbs that could heal or remove scars permanently?" Your response was a curious look, prompting him to elaborate, "I've been searching for solutions to fully eliminate Lady Park's scars for a while now, but to no avail. I've sought advice from others, but no one seems to have a solution. Given your extensive knowledge, I thought you might be aware of any foreign herbs that could help."

After pondering for a moment, you nodded slowly, "Actually, yes. There's a herb called the Gotu Kola. It's renowned for treating various conditions, particularly wounds and skin issues. There have been rare cases of it being used to heal scars." His hope surged until you added, "But... it's native to India and Indonesia, and there haven't been any imports of this herb so far."

"Oh... I see," he sighed dejectedly, his shoulders slumping.

Disheartened by his disappointment when he left your father's apothecary, you became determined to find a solution. After diligent inquiries among experts, you finally unearthed a crucial piece of information: the herb was indeed present in Joseon, though in limited quantities and not widely known.

"Really? The herb is here in Joseon? Where?" Yunho's spirits lifted upon hearing your update. However, all hope plummeted when you disclosed its location, "Apparently, an Indian traveller planted some on specific parts of the Naksan mountain some years ago. It thrives in the well-drained soil, moist position, and full sun exposure."

"The Naksan mountain...? Then it's practically inaccessible," he murmured, his earlier enthusiasm extinguished once more. You furrowed your brow, "What do you mean? Of course, it's possible. We could embark on a journey to find it ourselves. Where there's a will, there's a way."

He massaged his temples, "Do you have any idea how perilous trekking a mountain can be? We're not seasoned adventurers. We might not even survive the trek to the plant, let alone make it back in one piece. If it were so simple, don't you think someone would have already ventured there to harvest it and capitalise on it? There must be a reason it's not readily available here, don't you think?"

"Forget it, just... forget I asked," he implored.

But you persisted, adamant in your determination. You went out of your way to conduct thorough research, pinpoint the exact location of the herb and gather information on all the necessary essentials for the journey. Excitedly, you broached the topic once more, only to be met with a less-than-favourable response. Yunho sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, "Please, Miss Ryu, let's just drop it."

Frustrated by his reluctance, you erupted, "If you're a coward, just admit it. You sought a solution, and I've offered one. How can you give up so easily without even trying?"

"A coward...? Is fear the only thing you hear from me after everything I've said?" he retorted incredulously.

"Well, is it not?!" you challenged.

He scoffed, "Please, don't be stupid. You're not thinking clearly, and I don't see the point in arguing further. I've made my decision. We're not doing this, and that's final. It's just not feasible."

And since then, there had been no sight or sound of him. According to your father, he would drop by only for medication, never staying to see you. It had been a week since then, and if he thought his silent treatment would deter you, he was sorely mistaken. It only fueled your determination.

I'll prove you wrong, Jung Yunho.

Using the week to make all necessary preparations, you informed your parents that you would be venturing out to gather herbs. It was technically true, though you omitted certain details to avoid a lecture. You understood that they would worry, believing it to be dangerous, especially if you were going alone. However, you had always been independent, confident in your ability to handle things on your own.

You couldn't wait to see the look on the doctor's face as you presented him with the herb, the look on his face as you called him a coward, and even more so, the look on his face when he realised just how wrong he had been and how right you were.

As you began your journey, optimism fueled your steps. Everything unfolded smoothly, just as you had envisioned. With a trusty map in hand, you followed the right path, guided by determination. Kind passersby, fellow travellers or herb pickers like yourself, helped point you in the right direction when needed. All seemed well until the distant rumble of thunder and flashes of lightning pierced the air, causing your stomach to sink. But refusing to let it deter you, you pressed on toward your destination.

Goddamnit, not now please!

In your haste, you brushed against branches, tearing your hanbok fabric and leaving tiny cuts on your skin. At times like this, you couldn't help but think about the physician. Perhaps you missed having that gentle giant by your side. Pushing aside such thoughts, you focused on the task at hand. Despite the drizzle, you persevered and were determined to reach your goal.

Nearing the spot marked on the map, you muttered to yourself, "Come on, it should be around here somewhere." Scanning the surroundings for the distinct plant with fan-shaped green leaves and delicate flowers. But as the sky darkened and the rain intensified, it became increasingly difficult to see. Frustration bubbled up as you searched, muttering curses under your breath.

"Shit, shit, shit, where is it?"

In a moment of distraction, you failed to notice a sizable rock in your path, resulting in a twisted ankle and a painful fall. With a cry, you landed on the ground, scratching your palms as you shield your face. As you struggled to rise, the realisation of your predicament set in. Your ankle throbbed, swelling with each passing moment.

Oh god, how am I going to get out of here?

Desperate and defeated, you leaned against a rock, tears streaming down your face. Regret washed over you as you cursed your decision to go on this journey alone. Maybe Yunho had been right; perhaps you should have listened to him. Now, stranded and injured, you felt foolish and vulnerable. But as you looked around for something that could help you walk, a glimmer of hope emerged as you spotted a patch of what appeared to be Gotu Kola.

With trembling hands, you retrieved the rough sketch you had brought along, confirming your discovery with wide-eyed astonishment, "Oh my god, I finally found you," you whispered, a surge of determination rising within you once more.

Meanwhile, Yunho entered the apothecary with a heavy heart, closing his umbrella as he stepped into the shop to collect his usual batch of medicine for Lady Park. His concern deepened when he saw your father pacing anxiously, "Is everything alright, Mr. Ryu?" he inquired, furrowing his brows.

The elderly man looked up, relief flooding his features at the doctor's presence, "Oh, Physician Jung! Look, I'm not sure what's going on between you and my daughter, but please, you have to help find her!" he pleaded, his voice trembling with worry.

Yunho's heart squeezed uncomfortably at the urgency in the apothecary's voice, "Wh-what? What do you mean? Where did she go?" he asked, his own anxiety mounting.

Your father began to ramble, explaining that you had mentioned going out to pick herbs earlier in the day but hadn't specified a location, "She's been gone for more than half a day now, and it's raining heavily. I'm worried sick about her. What if something's happened?" he fretted.

The doctor's breath caught in his throat at the revelation. He could hazard a guess as to where you might have gone, but he needed confirmation, "I... I might have a clue where she went, but I need to check. Can I please see her work desk?" he requested urgently.

"Yes, of course. Anything to help you find her," Mr. Ryu agreed with a nod, desperation evident in his eyes.

Approaching your desk, Yunho wasted no time searching through your notes, where you meticulously recorded every discovery. His heart skipped a beat when he reached the final page, where a rough sketch of Naksan mountain with a red X marked a specific area, accompanied by the words 'Gotu Kola' scrawled above it.

Oh my god, I cannot believe this woman.

Shocked and alarmed, the physician knew he had to find you, and fast. The thought of anything happening to you filled him with dread. He couldn't bear the idea of something befalling you, especially since your actions were spurred by his own request. If only he hadn't broached the topic of finding a remedy for scars. If only he hadn't spoken to you so harshly. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was all his fault.

"I'll find her, Mr. Ryu. I promise, I'll make this right," he assured your father before setting out, clutching your notebook in his hands and carrying a bag of essentials the elderly man had helped pack. Braving the harsh wind and rain, he made his way toward you.

In the meantime, you huddled under the protective canopy of a tree, knees drawn close to your chest, feeling utterly helpless. Despite succeeding in gathering as much Gotu Kola as possible, you were still stranded atop the mountain. The rain showed no signs of relenting, and your sprained ankle made descent impossible. As you sat there, feeling the cold seep into your bones, you could only pray that someone would pass by and notice you in your predicament.

As time dragged on, your hopes of being discovered began to wane. Despite the rain lightening, the darkening evening sky brought a fresh wave of anxiety, your heart pounding in your chest. No one was going to find you now. Would you even survive the night on the mountain? You shivered uncontrollably in your wet clothes, your untreated ankle throbbing with pain, and wounds scattered across your body. It seemed unlikely you would make it.

Damn, I wish that idiot was here...

Oddly, amidst the despair, your thoughts turned to the physician. If only he were here with you, perhaps the situation wouldn't feel so distressful. With hooded eyes, you stared blankly ahead, silently wishing for him to miraculously appear before you.

You furrowed your brows as a figure approached, the sound of your name echoing through the rain-soaked air. The voice was unmistakable, and you snorted in disbelief. Could it really be Jung Yunho? But as he knelt before you, his hands gripping your shoulders, his concern felt all too real.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice urgent.

You blinked several times, reaching out tentatively to touch his cheek. To your astonishment, he was solid, undeniably present. Tears welled up in your eyes as you broke into sobs, throwing your arms around his neck and holding him close, "Oh my god, I can't believe you're actually here," you whispered through your tears, "I guess you aren't such a coward after all."

He sighed in relief, returning your embrace and stroking your head gently, "No, I am. I am a coward because I was so afraid, so scared of... of losing you," he confessed, his voice strained with emotion. As he pulled back slightly to look at you, his expression was filled with worry, "Please don't ever scare me like that again. I told you it was dangerous. Look at you," he scolded gently.

"I can't believe you ventured all this way alone. I thought you were smarter than this, but I guess even smart people can be idiots sometimes." The doctor in him immediately began assessing all of your injuries, retrieving a bandage from his bag. With careful hands, he secured your sprained ankle to support it and prevent further swelling and bruising. Once he finished, he pulled out an extra layer of cloth from the bag your father had packed and wrapped you snugly in it, ensuring you stayed warm for the time being.

You scoffed, defiance flashing in your eyes despite the fluttering of your heart at his earlier words and his caring actions, "Say what you want, but I have no regrets because I found it..." you said, holding up the bag full of the Gotu Kola herb, "The only regret I have is not knowing it would rain. Otherwise, I would have made it just fine."

He was momentarily speechless before a small laugh escaped him as he shook his head, "As much as I love how determined you are, it frustrates me sometimes."

"You do? Love how determined I am...?" you echoed shyly, feeling a blush creeping onto your cheeks, or maybe it was a fever.

He smiled warmly, gently cupping your cheek, "I do. But as much as I'd love to confess my feelings to you right now, we really need to get out of here. We'll have plenty of time to talk when we're safe. Now, come on, hop on my back." Turning around and gesturing toward his back, he offered you a way out of the predicament and perhaps, into a new beginning... with him.

Somewhere along the way, you lost consciousness on Yunho's back. Trying to maintain composure, he carefully navigated the descent from the mountain. Fortunately, upon reaching the bottom, kind townspeople offered a ride back to your home on their cart. He held you close throughout, hoping to provide warmth with his body heat, knowing the fever was taking its toll.

He found it hard to believe he had actually climbed a mountain to rescue someone. Normally, such feats were beyond his capabilities. But the mere thought of you in danger propelled him forward. If only you knew the power you had over him, driving him to extraordinary lengths.

Upon arrival, your parents swiftly attended to you, guiding the physician to your room where he diligently treated your wounds. Drifting in and out of consciousness, you found solace in the familiar surroundings of your room as your mother changed your wet clothes. Spotting Yunho beside you once more, tending to your injuries, you caught his gaze. He smiled and leaned down to kiss your forehead, whispering, "It's okay, you're safe now. Rest, sweetheart."

And you did, your heart finally at ease.

The following days passed in a blur as he visited you daily to check on your recovery. Today was no different, and upon his arrival, you recognised the familiar scent of the tonic he brought. It was the standard blend of herbs used to revitalise patients with colds. As he attempted to feed you, you protested, "I can do it myself."

Yunho clicked his tongue, moving the spoon out of your reach, "Just be good and let me take care of you," he urged gently.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you relented, allowing him to feed you. Swallowing the bitter medicine with a wince, you remarked, "You've already been taking good care of me for the past few days. Don't you have a clinic to run, Physician Jung?"

He chuckled, wiping the corner of your lips with his thumb, "Are you worried about me?"

Blushing, you looked away while he continued, "Don't worry, I have a substitute physician for whenever I'm not around. Besides, how can I focus on work there if I'm busy worrying about you?"

Turning back to him, you bit your lip nervously, "So, about that confession you were talking about..."

With a grin, the physician set down the bowl on the table beside your bed before reaching for your hand, "I've been waiting for you to ask for some time now. It's probably no surprise, but I... I have feelings for you."

As you squeezed his hand, he continued, "I'm not sure when it all started, but perhaps I might have liked you since our first meeting. Despite usually being composed, seeing you just threw me off. Truthfully, I've never given the idea of settling down a thought. All my life, I've been married to my work. Sure, I've met countless women who tried to appeal to me, but I've never been swayed."

Gently intertwining your fingers, he added, "Just when I thought I never would, you came along and changed everything. Initially, I thought it might have been your extensive medicinal knowledge that intrigued me, but now I realise it's much more than that. I've been waiting to be sure you liked me back before making my move, but then..."

Tears welled up in his eyes as he confessed, "God, you have no idea how much I regret putting you in danger. I should have spoken to you instead of avoiding you. When I found out you were gone, I felt like my life was over... I wouldn't have forgiven myself if anything were to happen to you," his voice cracked with emotion.

"I'm here now, you saved me," you reassured, gently cupping his face and turning it towards you, tears clouding your own vision.

He sighed, leaning into your touch, "You are, and I need you to know that I care deeply about you. I want to be the one to protect you, to be the one you can rely on, and to be there for you. Most of all, I want... to be loved by you. Will you let me be the one?"

"If not you, then who else?" you teased.

The atmosphere instantly lifted, and your smile illuminated his mood. "You'll be my only one, Yunho," you whispered, closing your eyes as he leaned in to capture your lips with his. Pulling back slightly, he murmured against your lips, "And you'll be mine."

Your father jumped with excitement outside your room, while your mother's joyous tears flowed as she eavesdropped. Finally, their hopes and dreams were becoming reality. They had worried you wouldn't give Yunho a chance after declaring your disinterest in marriage. They were relieved to see you letting him in. With a smack on your father's arm, your mother scolded him, "Alright, now that's settled, get back to work." Despite the playful reprimand, your father left happily, a smile adorning his face.

As weeks passed and your routine continued, with sessions held every few days, the significant change was evident – the physician was now more than just a friend. Stepping into the apothecary, he greeted, "I'm here, Mr. Ryu!" The elderly man grinned, waving back, "You might as well call me father already, Yunho-yah," he joked.

He blushed, bowing before hurrying to the back to tell you what your father had said, "Sweetheart, you won't believe what your father just said to me..." he began, trailing off as he realised you weren't there.

"Sweetheart...? Where are you—"

His words were interrupted by a mischievous "Boo!" from behind, startling him. In his surprise, he yelped and stumbled over his own feet, falling backwards. You reached out to help, but he grabbed your arm, causing both of you to tumble down together. As you landed on him, laughter erupted, reminiscent of the first time it happened.

"You cheeky thing," he murmured, leaning in for a kiss. When you pulled back sooner than expected, he let out a small whine, "Wait, what did my father say to you?"

"I'll tell you if you kiss me again, pretty please," he teased, a smirk spreading across your face, "Only because you asked so nicely," you replied with a chuckle.

Just as you leaned in to kiss him again, your father's voice interrupted from the entrance, "Hey sunshine, is the latest batch of ginseng ready yet— oh. Gosh, don't mind me, kids!"

As the elderly man hastily left, you buried your face in the doctor's chest, feeling embarrassed by the interruption. It seemed this was something you'd both have to get used to - the occasional interruption in your private moments. Yet, when you looked up and saw Yunho grinning, you realised he didn't mind. Like you, he was simply happy to be part of your little family.

You once thought it impossible to find someone like your father—someone patient enough to love you despite your unladylike habits, borderline stubborn nature, and no-nonsense attitude, someone who could accept you and all your flaws wholeheartedly—only to realise he had been here all along.

You were right, mother; he's the one.

You won't believe how many times I went over this. I'm not entirely happy with it even though I've managed to put in everything I had in mind. Maybe I'm overthinking it, but I sincerely hope this was decent!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/9):

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@green-agent @stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive |

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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

#edenesth #the way to his heart #little touch of heaven #twthh spinoff #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #jung yunho #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #historical au #joseon era #yunho x reader #yunho x you #ateez fic

[13atoms]

Airplane Mode (Spencer Reid x Reader)

A quick blurb about Spencer Reid and his SO finally getting a resort vacation! (Or holiday, because I’m a Brit and saying vacation feels weird). Insp by the slightly weird holiday I’m currently on lol | 1k fluff

Holidays were a bad omen for the BAU. Like complaining a night shift in a hospital is too quiet, or that it hasn’t rained in a while. Holidays meant something was bound to go wrong. So you’d waited until the very last minute to book the flights. Packed your suitcases two hours before leaving for the airport.

You hadn’t allowed yourself to be excited to go away, or even to tell many friends you’d be on holiday.

The louder you said it, the more likely it was that Spencer would be called into work, and the whole thing would fall to the wayside in a series of frantic phone calls. Ultimately, it would only mean Spencer felt awful, and guilty, and it would have been better if you’d never planned anything in the first place. It wasn’t his fault, you couldn’t resent him for it, people’s lives were at stake.

But you were so excited for a vacation.

Even in the airport, as Spencer passed through security with the lazy, efficient movements of a weary regular flier, you’d been waiting for his phone to ring. For it to all be over. You’d held his arm in the airport lounge, waiting for the gate announcement, not daring to speak a word in case the universe heard you and Spencer had to jump on a different plane before yours had even taken off. Then there would be the arguing with the airline. The money lost, the forms for it to be refunded by the FBI, your bags missing because they were already packed deep into the hold of the plane.

You had clutched your coffee cup, already feeling dread and exhaustion overtaking you.

Then the plane had taken off. You hadn’t quite believed it. Spencer put his phone on airplane mode, and showed it to you.

“We’ve made it,” he whispered, through a smile, “it would be in violation of the Federal Aviation Administration regulations to take a call from work now.”

You shoved your face into his neck, and let yourself begin to feel excited.

The resort was one recommended by a colleague of Spencer’s, boring and relaxing, adults’ only and pleasantly quiet. There was a time and a place for exploring and excitement, but truly the thought of Spencer spending a single week away from work felt like excitement enough.

In the taxi from the airport, when Spencer had turned his phone back on and not received summons from Gideon, you finally let yourself utter the words:

“I can’t believe we’re on holiday.”

“I know!”

Spencer was giddy, you could count on one hand the number of times you’d heard him giggle, and it was so wonderful you had to pull his hand into yours and squeeze it.

“I am so excited to do nothing,” he admitted, though you knew his e-reader contained a small library’s worth of books.

“I just want to eat good food, and spend time with you.”

“I think I’m going to turn my phone off,” he said abruptly, as though he’d only just had the thought he could.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! Garcia knows where I am, if there’s a real emergency. That way I won’t feel like I have to check it all the time.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

He smiled at you, and you watched as he shot off a quick text to Penelope, before completely turning his phone off. For a moment there was silence, and you both waited, listening to the sound of rubber on tarmac and feeling the heat of the sun outside. Nothing happened. Of course it didn’t. The realisation made you burst out laughing at the same time as Spencer, and you caught a flash of the driver’s backwards glance in the rear view mirror.

“You know what, mine too!”

You turned your phone off in solidarity, and stacked it beside his on the middle seat.

“Swap?” Spencer asked, offering you his phone, but you shook your head.

“Straight into the safe, when we get to the hotel. They can stay there.”

“That’s an even better idea.”

You knew, if it came down to it, if a life was at risk, he’d get the message from the hotel reception and go back to Quantico. That was okay. It was part of who he was, he needed the BAU, as much as they needed him.

There was a chain of people between that decision being made and Spencer finding out, including Gideon and Penelope, who would do everything in that power not to ask him. And that felt good.

For the first day, you let yourselves do only what you wanted to, to explore, to lie in bed, to read. Spencer needed the reminders not to watch every little thing that happened, not to examine poolsides and restaurants like they were crime scenes, but soon that went away and the frown in his brow was smoothed.

He wore swim trunks. He tried sips of your cocktail while floating in a pool. He laughed, and cried at one of the books he read, and ate properly, and let himself spend hours lying against your body in bed.

When you left the hotel, you both forgot your phones, and had to pay the taxi driver to turn around and get them.

“We should just leave them,” you’d joked breathlessly, as the receptionist concealed exasperation and politely led you to the room you’d just checked out of.

“That would be pointless, I’d just have to buy another one –” Spencer was distracted, following the receptionist, working out whether you’d miss the plane in the worst possible scenario.

You could see the stress in him, as the taxi driver waited outside with your bags, his meter running.

“Not if we stay here forever,” you teased, and finally saw the fall of his shoulders, the smile lines appearing on his face.

“You know, that’s not a bad idea.”

Spencer made it a whole 24 hours after landing without getting on another plane, and you considered it a small victory. When he called you on the jet you could almost see him, skin a little bit more tanned, his hair still a little curlier from the sun and the chlorine.

“You’d better bring a souvenir, jet setter,” you teased, and imagined Spencer wrinkling his nose before he replied.

“We’re going to Milwaukee.”

#sowwy for the mobile formatting #i just got past the first Spencer’s mum episode i am a WRECK #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #13atoms #fic #fluff

[goldustwomun]

bags (s.h.)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you'd loved steve since you were fifteen, followed him wherever he went. so when you were finally over him, stumbling home with another man clinging to your side, why was he waiting by your doorstep?

warnings: (unedited) angst angst angst, best friend robin and nancy but also lovers <3 robin and nancy <3, swearing, drinking, clubbing/partying, self-deprecating thoughts and a stubborn reader, steve is kind of an asshole despair and dread lol, this went a route i hadn't expected but i'm feeling achey and sad tonight so :) enjoy :) and don't hate me!

wc: 2.2k+

note: i hope this isn't entirely ass lol i just want steve harrington to break my heart but like i cant put my ideas into words and its SO FRUSTRATING but whatever :’)

Can you see me? I'm waiting for the right time I can't read you, but if you want, the pleasure's all mine Can you see me using everything to hold back? I guess this could be worse Walkin' out the door with your bags

You should’ve known it’d end up this way. His back, coloured shades of blue and purple as dusk kissed at his skin, retreating into the distance and down the very road you’d just stumbled up only moments earlier. Maybe if you had listened a little closer, noticed a little more, the way he grabbed at your waist, squeezed your palms, held you close, you could’ve avoided it all. The shock and heartbreak and unbearable yearning only to turn up empty and desolate all over again.

Because you loved Steve Harrington, in more ways than he would ever know, but it had taken days, months, years, even, to get over that initial infatuation and belly flutter you’d been plagued with as teenagers. He was King Steve and you but a peasant, a shadow, one of many, that flocked to his side when he waved or smiled or tripped you up.

You loved Steve Harrington, but you hated him for waiting so long to work up the courage to just say it. I love you; I’ve always loved you, you wanted to say, but the words refused to pass the seal of your lips and instead you were left gaping at an empty spot on the ground, a Steve-shaped hole in your heart.

It’d been days since you’d seen him last, mourning his absence but refusing to sit around like you might’ve done if you were still seventeen. But no, you weren’t seventeen, you were a twenty-something independent that went out and did things and met people and kissed them if you wanted, maybe even take them home to your one-bedroom that would be otherwise empty without Steve plastered to your sofa, a hand stuffed into the popcorn you kept around because he once said he didn’t entirely hate it.

And that’s what you had done, convinced Nancy and Robin to leave the haze of their never-ending honeymoon phase to take you dancing. The drinks hadn’t stopped coming. Every time you gulped down a shot, another would be shoved into your hand before you’d had time to comprehend the reality of what you were going to do. To sleep with a stranger in the same space you’d watched Rocky with Steve only days earlier. You’d called and asked and begged him to come over, to join you, Nancy and Robin, but he’d bit at you in that way he sometimes did. The harsh edges of his teenage-self making itself known in ways you’d have liked to forget.

“Stop it, babes. I know what you’re doing,” Robin scolded, frowning at the dip between your brows and the lost look in your eyes. You forced a smile then, and she scoffed at the minimal effort you put into hiding your feelings, always having excelled at letting them take over your features even when you didn’t mean them to. Of course, every knew, everyone could see it in the way you trailed after him, like a lost puppy begging for an ounce of attention. Steve was cruel with the crumbs he handed you, but he didn’t know any better.

Everyone knew and everyone could see but Steve had always stood out, the most handsome, the most fit, the most clueless. And maybe that’s why you were perfect for each other because you hadn’t known either, had you.

“Come on, up you get!” Robin urged, pulling you from your chair with Nancy already clinging to her side, shuffling the three of you with what little sobriety she had left in her to the dance floor, pulsing lights and thrumming bodies none-the-wiser to the way you heart was cracking open.

So, you jumped and danced and bounced to the beat in ways you didn’t know you were capable of. Free and without regret and it wasn’t until someone was staring at you from across the room, watching your every moment with a fascination you’d never been subject to, that you stopped, pressing past Nancy and Robin with a tip of your head that assured them you’d be back.

He, whoever he was, surged into action, coming behind you at the bar where you were busy asking for a glass of water. You turned and smiled, stomach dipping, because he was attractive and strong, and he had these kind eyes and soft lips that looked like they’d be otherworldly against your skin. He introduced himself but the music obscured his words, so you nodded and pretended and wondered why you were dreading this conversation when it had only just begun.

He pulled you into a somewhat quieter corner after you’d gestured it was alright, and really, he seemed as surprised as you were when you all but pounced, mouth meeting his, open and desperate. He hadn’t complained, had probably seen it coming in the quiet desperation of your eyes. Of course, he didn’t know it was because of the way you wished it was someone else kissing you into the wall and not some all-consuming lust you were fueled by.

The next thing you knew you were huddled into the backseat of a cab, then stumbling across the gravel to your front door.

And that’s when you saw him. Sat on the bottom step of your apartment’s front door, gaze focused on the way whatever-his-name-was smirked into your neck, having probably thought you had stopped for a smooch and not because the man you had loved, unrequited, for close to a decade was staring at you like you’d stabbed him right in the chest, and twisted.

“Steve?” you whispered, loud enough to prompt Harrington off the step and marching across the short distance to you. “What are you—” but you never had a chance to ask him before he was swinging a left hook right into the guy’s jaw.

“Steve!” and you were shouting now, pushed to side as the stranger retaliated out of instinct, socking him in the nose. Steve looked like he was grinning, blood dripping into his mouth, like he was enjoying the feel of getting the shit beat out of him. “Stop it! Steve! I said—” you yanked him back, shoving him behind you as you rushed forward to-- fuck. You still don’t know his name.

“I’m sorry— Jesus Christ—” you swore when you noticed how his eye was already bruising as he shook you off. “I don’t know why he did that. I—I’m—"

His words were bitter when he responded, shooting daggers at the looming figure you were keenly aware was still behind you before meeting your pleading eyes. “It’s fine. It’s fine,” he assured you, squeezing your hip as he moved past you to leave. “You should talk to your boyfriend, you know, before you bring anyone else over.”

“I’m not—He’s not—” but he was gone, and you were still reeling from what had just happened, what Steve had just done. You turned, anger coursing through you so violently your hands were shaking. “Fucking hell—Steve! What the fuck are you doing here? And what the fuck was that?!”

“Were you going to fuck him?” he asked plainly, bluntly, shirt pulled to his face as he tried to stop the bleeding. There was still that wild look in his eyes, a flush to his skin, like he too was dazed and confused.

“What—I--- how is that any of your fucking business?” you answered back, shoving a finger against his chest. He was immovable though, only grabbed at your hand and held it until your palm was flat against the front of him. You could feel, now, the reckless thrum of his heartbeat, and you asked yourself how you’d gotten here in the first place, pushed up against a bloodied and bruised Steve Harrington.

“Just tell me. If I hadn’t been sat here, would you have fucked him?”

And you didn’t completely understand it, didn’t know what answer he was looking for—the one that was acquiesce him enough to explain himself or at the very least go inside and forget about all this ever happening—so instead you answered honestly. “Yes,” but your voice cracked at the end, so you snatched your hand back, cradling it to yourself like an injured bird you hoped to keep cocooned in your warm. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, I would have slept with him. And if it hadn’t been him, I would have found someone else.”

He nodded, looking as if he were pained but you were certain, now, it wasn’t because of the punch he’d taken to the face. “And if I had answered your call, met you there, got drunk and kissed you, would you have fucked me, too?”

You reeled at his words, feeling entirely as though you were the one in the midst of a fight. “Where is this coming from, Steve? Why are you saying these things to me?” you begged, pleaded, tired of whatever back-and-forth the two of you had gotten into the habit of.

“Look—” and he was determined now, steely gaze pinning you to the ground. His bruised knuckles brushed through his hair, scattering the strands across his forehead so that your fingers tingled with the urge to brush them out of his eyes like you’d always done. “—I should’ve said this ages ago. I just—I never could because it was never the right time, and I didn’t really see you in that way, not when I knew you did—” and really you wanted to stop him there, let the Earth swallow you whole and spit your bones out to be buried far from here. “I knew you had this—this thing for me but I ignored it but then we became friends and we—I mean, we watch movies, and we cuddle on the couch and sometimes I think I’d like to do that with you all the time and—

“Steve, please,” you whispered through the tears flooding past your irises, looking anywhere but at him, cheeks flushed with humiliation. He’d always had this tight grip around your heart and maybe he didn’t know that with every word he spoke that grip tightened, and tightened, and you were sure your heart was going to burst if he didn’t shut up right then.

“Just listen—I want to do those things with you always, sweetheart, I really do. I could’ve—I mean, I should’ve communicated my feelings earlier, I know I should have, but I didn’t want to lie to you. Not when you mean so much to me and I couldn’t give you what you wanted.” He looked at you then, expectantly, reaching forward to pull you into his embrace but you stumbled back, wanting out of the hold he had on you in more ways than one.

“Am I meant to thank you for looking at me differently now?” you bit out, exhaustion coating your syllables like rust on a nail.

His face fell as he stuttered over his own words. “I mean—no, sweetheart, no, of course not, I just thought—”

“You thought because I’m pathetic—because I’ve always been fucking pathetic to you—stumbling after you since high school that I’d just be, what, waiting for you? That I’d welcome your change of heart with open arms and gratitude?” you scoffed, gaze narrowed as you watched that wall of his build itself back up. Your ego was bruised and you were too stubborn to admit it, because you thought he had been clueless, and that thought had kept you safe all these years as you curled into his side every weekend.

“I don’t think that. I’ve never thought that” he cautioned, temper rising. If Steve Harrington was anything it was beautiful, and if he wasn’t beautiful, he was angry, stubborn, a pot ready to boil over.  

“Come on, Steve. You said it yourself: I’ve had a thing for you since freshmen year. I followed you after we graduated, and I’ve followed you again, here, now. It took me years—fucking years—to get over it, to accept that I’d never be more than a friend, if that, and now, after you’ve been dodging me for days, you turn around and confess some sort of miracle feelings for me?” You were panting, out of breath from the way the words spilled out of you, thoughts you shouldn’t have kept to yourself all this time.

“Well what should I have done!” he roared, and a few curious lights blinked on from the building behind him. “Should I have not befriended you when you turned up to the same college? Should I have, instead, fucked you ten years ago when it would have meant nothing to me?” And you flinched at his words.

“You should have let me be, Steve,” you sighed, defeated. Because he was right, but you hated him for prodding at wounds you were still trying to heal.  “You should have kept it to yourself and let me be.” But really what you wanted to say was you’ve been lying to Robin and Nancy because you weren’t over him. You loved him; you’d always love him, but you were afraid, if you told him the truth, that he’d slowly fade from your life until he wasn’t a part of it anymore.

He nodded, face slipping into that mask of his you’d dreaded seeing. “Right. Got it.”

He pushed past you, and you wanted to thank him for the slight brush of his skin against yours, but you kept quiet, like you always had.

as always, please comment and reblog if you enjoyed <3

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #bags

[leviathanleva]

Daisy

........................

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader

........................

Description: Cooper Howard was not a kind man, he cared for nobody, but himself. Then he found you, a lost little dove, barefoot and crying, torn dress and big innocent eyes staring at him like he was a hero. He knew you’d be a burden, he knew you couldn’t survive in the wasteland, he was doing you a favor.

But he couldn’t pull the fucking trigger...

[Minor violence, Non-consensual choking]

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Chapter 2

You wanted to say something desperately, but your mouth came dry and empty and you promptly closed it to avoid any stray specs of sand. Your neck ached from having to keep it so profoundly craned just to hold eye contact and avoid the gun from pressing against your Adam’s apple.

His boots sunk in the dune as he juggled his weight tantalizingly, prowling in front of you and looking like he was ready to pounce. He was staring at you like you weren’t even human and it made sense because he didn’t look like one. The sun scratched at your exposed shoulders and upper back, hair pooled over your face and breasts and no longer acting as a shield for your delicate skin. It hurt, it burned, your flesh felt like it was cooking on a barbeque rack, but there was nothing you could do except take it like a champ and worry about it later.

This was not how you imagined the world above to be… You never thought you’d be attacked by giant roaches or chased by deranged criminals smelling of shameless cannibalism or held at gunpoint by the man…thing, that saved your life. You never imagined it was this bad up here, so desolate and askew, everything was old, rusted, worn, and crumbling and you had half the mind to just go back and let the raiders kill you and make their threats a reality of making you into human jerky.

The gun tapping incessantly against your cheek failed to pull you out of the depths of your spinning thoughts. But when it was forcibly pressed against the center of your forehead, nearly knocking you back on your arse, you stiffened with a gasp.

Your hero was becoming impatient.

“Never seen a ghoul before, darlin’?” he asks with somewhat of a frown, his agitation brewing with your silent treatment and mindblown stare. He pranced around you, circling your kneeling, hunched-over form as you tried following his movements with doubtful eyes and a racing heart. “You been livin’ under a fucking rock?”

His gun was cocked and ready to fire, a steady forefinger resting over the trigger in case you decided to be stupid and try to run or lunge at him. He scoffed at the idea but kept his guard up just in case. After so many years of roaming, he’d seen just about everything, he wasn’t risking it no matter how defenseless you appeared at first glance.

“N-No…No, sir. Never seen a…ghoul. Before.” you forced the words out, fearing his wrath, and clung to your sides as your hands kneaded through the soft material of your dress. Your head lowered obediently, lashes shielding your darting irises as they read his every movement. “A rock? No, I – “

It took him a single spin to notice the Pip-boy slapped over your wrist and his eyes hardened. He stopped by your side, towering over you, and ripped your arm away, clutching it in his hand with a roughness you’d never experienced before. You winced as he leaned over to inspect the device and grimaced with a twitching upper lip.

“ – A vault dweller…” he spat and his gloved fingers dug into your flesh. He ignored your whiney noise of protest, jostling you into silence before shooting a flesh-searing glare right into your soul. “You a vaulty?”

“What? I – No! Yes. Wait – ” you stammered when he dug a knee into the sand and let your arm go before gathering a handful of hair on the back of your head and forcing your neck back to make you look at him. He was…menacing, practically bolting you to the ground with a single glare. “Wait! Please, wait. Please! I – ” your hands shot up to grip his wrist, trembling and useless as you pleaded. He dug the gun under your chin, preventing you from swallowing. “Please, I did. I lived in a vault, but I don’t know anything! Please, please, I promise. Don’t – “ your eyes frantically shot down at where the barrel sunk into your skin, teeth chattering as your lashes heavied with tears.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?!” he snarled, leaning so close that if he had a nose it would have bumped into yours. His breath stank of spirit and you tried to recoil but were promptly jerked back into place.

It didn’t click in your brain what had upset him so. The vaults were created to preserve humanity and its antics from before the bombs, it was for the betterment of the future. It was so that his children could eventually live better lives after you finally left the sanctuary of the underground and restored order to the surface, or so you’ve read. It made no sense for him to hate you based on a stupid Pip-boy that wasn’t even yours, you’d done nothing to him, you didn’t even know him! How could he be so nonchalantly cruel? How could he touch you without your consent? What gave him the right!?

The firearm digging into your flesh told you what.

“I was sick!” you wail, fighting back your tears and a pitiful stutter from poisoning your reply. His grip on your hair tightened and you twitched in pain, shaking like a leaf beneath him and clutching at his wrist in a silent plea to let you go. “I was isolated. I didn’t know anyone but my mom and dad, I didn’t do anything. I don’t know!” you debated for your life, prolonging his spine-chilling intentions. Bargaining with the devil was a difficult task when your body and mind worked against you, all blabbering words and choppy thoughts and jittery limbs. “The vault was taken over and I ran and I don’t know anything about the people and I just – Please…My parents are dead…Please, mister, please don’t shoot…” you beg through sobs and a sniffling nose, tugging at his iron grip to no avail.

With a grunt and a flexing jaw, he threw you back, treating you with disregard equal to tossing out a piece of garbage, releasing you to curl up protectively over yourself, and standing. His gun clicked and he secured it back in the holster on his hip.

You instinctively rub at the tender area on the back of your head with a dissatisfied plaint, locking your thighs to obscure your exposed privates. Propped up on one hand and with a shaken look, you watched him spit and turn, his expression solid and distasteful and beating down on you for no reason that you could comprehend. Your breaths begin to event out and you swallow with a shuddering hum.

He turned away, drawing distance between you with stiff steps, fighting his resolve as his hand itched to draw his weapon and just shoot you on the spot.

But he couldn’t…

You weren’t worth the bullet, he repeated that bitter sentence under his breath to convince himself that he hesitated and withdrew simply because you were a waste of ammunition. It wasn’t your doe-eyed stare and too-soft-for-this-world skin that felt like silk when your tiny fingers had lingered under the edge of his sleeve. It wasn’t your delicate, shiny hair that looked like it would tear under his hold or the thick, heavy lashes that framed your eyes and held your tears that shone like diamonds in the sunlight. It definitely wasn’t that tiny dress that hugged your little frame and would make any goon go rabid from just a glance. You were no wastelander, didn’t look like any vault dweller who had crossed his path, you were too soft even for the life before the bombs. He didn’t know what you were, but you weren’t worth the cogitation.

You weren’t worth the bullet. You weren’t worth anything. You were nothing.

You were –

“ – Wait!” you hurry to rise and stumble after him. Despite his demeanor, he was the only thing that hadn’t tried to kill you on sight, and without anything or anyone else around, you had mentally latched onto him as your hero. “Mister, wait! You can’t just – “

He raised his weapon and pointed it at you faster than you could blink. Your hands shot up to shield your face and you shrunk in submission, rapidly blinking and with a hesitant look.

“Come closer.” he barks and cocks his gun, arm extended and eerily steady. “See what happens.”

“I – You can’t just leave me here!“ you protest, mustering what confidence you could, scraping at the bottom of a barrel that was emptied the moment you had set foot outside the vault. You straighten when no bullets come and your palms curl into fists, stomping a foot for emphasis. “That’s not right. You can’t just ditch me.”

“Watch me, princess.” he chuckled, sneered, and bared his yellowish teeth at you like a dog. He gestured with the gun in dismissal and rested his free hand on his hip after flinging his coat back. “Now get!”

“I don’t know where to get.” you whine and curl your fingers in air quotes in a brash display, pushing your luck and mocking his conceit because you were so desperate you took your chances. “I don’t even know where I am!”

He just snorts at you, unbothered and uncaring, and proceeds on his way with a flick of his wrist, refusing to entertain your tantrum any longer.

You didn’t understand how someone could turn down a person in need, it made no sense, the lack of compassion was incomprehensible and so…inhuman. How could a man be this purposefully ignorant of another’s struggle and choose not to do anything? You could never turn down a cry for help, not that you’d ever been faced with such a situation before, but you knew you wouldn’t. So what had this ghoul lived through to be so detached and devoid of sympathy? How much had he been hurt to abandon emotion entirely for the sake of a still mind and dreamless sleep?

What kind of world forced a man to abandon his humanity…

Fueled by frustration, you take a few steps after him, so hellbent on keeping the spotless image of your hero you had forced upon his shoulders that your rationality couldn’t break through your naivety. He couldn’t be this cruel after saving your life and not even bringing up the possibility of a reward. He had to have a soft spot somewhere, beneath the rags and the ruggedness and the hissy threats and brutish actions. He was still a person just like you even if the harshness of the surface had disfigured both his body and soul, you believed in him, you had to for your own preservation.

He heard you move, heard the rustling of fabric and the shuffling of sand, and snapped with a cornered animal.

“Oh I’ve had about enough of you!” he snarled and whirled around, covering the distance between you with three long, menacing strides. Your startled scream was cut short when he squeezed your neck and forced you down on your back like your resistance against him didn’t even exist. He caged you beneath his tights, keeping you in place as you clawed at his stone-firm grip and gasped apologies and pleas through labored breaths. The gun knocked against the side of your forehead to stifle you into stilling. It clicked threateningly as he applied pressure to the trigger, sunken eyes staring down at you without any hesitation. “First rule of the wasteland, sweetheart.” he grumbled through gritted teeth and a stiff jaw, tightening his chokehold until your eyes rolled back and you burst into a fit of coughs. “Don’t trust nobody.”

Your mind raced fervently, battling against the lack of oxygen and trying to search for anything in your memory that could guarantee you even a chance at surviving his unrelenting assault. A sliver of hope as unconsciousness splotched the edges of your vision with viscous darkness. Your ears screeched as blood thrashed around in your head and face, bulging and boiling, trapped and unable to reach the rest of your writhing body. Your feet kicked and thrashed without results and no matter how deep your nails sank in his leathery skin he didn’t so much as flinch. Spit dribbled from the corner of your gaping mouth, the threat of the gun completely discarded due to suffocation and your lungs screamed and burned with the scarce air.

And he just watched you struggle with a solemn visage and jagged features.

“Say something! ANYTHING! THINK OF SOMETHING!!!”

“Water!” you croak and it was nearly unintelligible, but he understood.

“What?” he hisses and his grip on your throat slacks enough for you to finally suck in a full breath.

You gulp greedily at the dry, scorching air, groaning in octaves so low you couldn’t recognize your own voice. Supposedly having your neck nearly crushed like a rotten pencil did that to one’s vocal cords. You relax beneath him and hold onto his forearm for support as if he hadn’t been the cause of your near-death experience. You cling to him like a lost child and not his victim and it utterly baffles him. He tried to find a glimmer of hatred or disgust, anything that would deter him enough to just shoot you and get this overextended fiasco to an end, anything that would let him pull the fucking trigger. There’s nothing though, just desperation and confusion and fright and you had placed him as the only barrier between yourself and the rest of the world and even when he watched the life drain from you as you fought for breath you still didn’t even glare at him. You were just too pure, undefiled by the cruelty of the world you’d set off to venture and a tiny, once-dead part of him boiled at the incessant thought of you falling into the hands of a less kind man. What if someone else had found you first…

“There’s a storage safehouse. It was made for emergencies.” you gasp and clear your throat, pushing past the need to gag and looking up at him because you were taught that holding eye contact was a good thing when speaking about something of grave importance. He softened above you and leaned away and you took that as your cue to continue. “Those people, the ugh…the bad guys can’t get to it. It’s hidden and you need a Pip-boy to unlock it.” you gulp audibly and wince at the soreness before licking at your chapped lips and wiping the drool off your cheek. “It’s full of food and water…and stimpaks and bandages and…whatever you wish. You can take all of it just – ” a wave of trembles racked through you and you tried to suppress a whimper, but couldn’t. “ – Please, just help me get to it…I just want to go home, sir…”

“Thought you said you didn’t know anything, princess? You tryna lie to me now?” his chin dipped as he cocked his head to the side. His voice was flat, and his cold demeanor breaching through your dress and nipping at your insides until you were littered with goosebumps despite being pinned down in a desert in the middle of the day.

“I don’t…I’ve never been there – I was an archive keeper. I know everything in theory I just never knew the people except my parents…But I can find my way to it just by memory, I know where it is I just need to walk around a bit and – ”

“ – Stop yappin’.” he scolded, cutting your rant short before tucking away his gun.

He took a moment to mull over your words, still keeping you locked beneath him while you laid there like a corpse and prayed wordlessly as anticipation punched at your churning stomach. He rubbed at his chin, tongue twisting in his mouth as if he were tasting your proposition. His eyes dipped down to your scrawny form, done skimming over the barren desert sea and deciding this didn’t need much more contemplation. You got to go home and get off his back, he got supplies for a good few weeks, and a handful of raiders would end up dead. Simple. Easy. He could do that.

“Done deal.”

You nearly cried out in joy at his words.

Then he finally stood and gripped your upper arm before roughly pulling you to your feet and you nearly faceplanted in his chest at the force. He laughs as you flounder and fight not to trip, the baritone of his voice sending you spiraling into a pit of embarrassment and abashment because he was the first person you had ever properly met and you were making a fool of yourself. There was a feint, innocent need prickling at your heart, you wished you could’ve impressed him, and made a good first impression, but that had been thrown out the window in its entirety the moment he’d pointed a gun at you.

Now you were torn between needing him close because he was your only source of comfort and wanting to slap him because he was such a rude and foul man. Who even pointed a weapon at an unarmed woman?

He did…the bastard.

“Shoulda just started with the storage, missy.” he teases as if he’d not nearly killed you a few minutes ago, all lighthearted and smirking. He holds your arm until you’re stable enough to stand on your own and you’re grateful even if a bit abrasive. “Coulda saved us a whole lot of tusslin’.”

“I would have, sir, but you – “

“ – Sssst!” he susses you like one would a mischievous cat and your lips are sealed in an instant. Then he nudged his head forward and readjusted the collar of his coat after releasing you. “Walk.”

Deciding you’ve run your luck dry for the day, you let go of a snarky remark hanging on the tip of your tongue and do as instructed, trudging through the dunes as the familiar sting returns to the bare soles of your feet. Now, however, you had a nasty gash on your ankle to boot and it didn’t help that it was slowly getting covered by specs of sand that rubbed excruciatingly against your exposed flesh.

God damn those roaches, they were a menace when they were tiny! Now? You mouthed at the recollection.

You bite your tongue to keep from whining when the hurt becomes too unbearable, the rest of the time you were heaving with an open mouth as the idea of licking at your sweat for some sort of thirst relief grew. You’d not known thirst until today, it was worse than any needle or medical practice your father had used on you, you couldn’t even swallow properly, the motion happened automatically and you cringed at the stickiness of your dried-up throat.

It was too hot and you were woefully unprepared to deal with it or any of the other discomforts tugging your nerves thin. It bothered you how unphased he seemed by the harsh weather, one glance at him told you he hadn’t even broken a sweat. He was covered from head to toe in heavy clothes and strode with confidence and ease as if he were taking a walk through a park. You shrug without realizing it, too sunken into your head. Maybe he doesn’t have sweat glands anymore.

The sun was finally moving, sinking to the west and casting dramatic shadows over the desert. As his shadow grew, you found sanctuary in it from the still-sizzling rays and sighed in relief. It was a tiny drop of comfort, but it was enough to ease some of your strain. The muscles in your thighs were numb from overexertion for the first time in your life and you dreaded the cramps you’d have to deal with later on. The skin on your feet was smooth as butter from the intense exfoliation of walking through sand for so long, that was an interesting little fact you’d never heard of before. Dead skin cells could be removed by rubbing coarse surfaces over the body. Dope.

Locking yourself in the sanctity of your head and isolating your surroundings, you were numb and blind to how your legs shook. It wasn’t until you collapsed and tasted brittle little specs on your tongue that you realized you were lying down.

The ghoul paused and turned to look at you over his shoulder with profane boredom.

“Didn’t tell you to stop, princess.”

“Mm…My legs don’t work.” you state before even realizing the cruciality of that bit of information. Your eyes pop open and the exhausted expression vanishes in an instant, you prop up on your elbows and stare back at the limp limbs. Panic ensues, pumping through you like a drug as a dry sob punctures your chest. “My legs don’t…My legs!”

“What in the hell!”

He’s on you in an instant, bent over and pushing at your shoulder until you roll on your back, the spaces where his eyebrows should be are locked together and he shushes your cries with a curt noise, but you’re too stressed to acknowledge it. There are no more tears left, your nose can’t even fill with snot from dehydration, and you end up a mess of ragged sobs and loud wails as you paw at your legs to wake them up. You double over and clutch at your upset stomach with a shaky hand as your teeth grit in dread.

If he hadn’t left you behind yet, he would now…

And you couldn’t even debate him on it this time, you wouldn’t even be able to stalk him if he tried.

“I can’t move them…” you hiccup. You manage to wiggle your toes but lifting your foot or bending a knee just doesn’t register, instead, you get a few twitches from the spent muscles and nothing else. The worst scenario plagues your sanity and you look to the ghoul for guidance because there is no one else. “What if – ”

“ – Shut the hell up!” he scolds and shoots you a brief glare before averting his eyes down as he cups a large gloved palm in the junction of your knee before lifting your thigh in uncharacteristically gentle examination. His thumb dips in your supple flesh, rubbing in circles, searching for something to hint him in on what the issue was, the concentration evident on his distinct features. Your cries die down to whimpers as he juts a finger against your lips. “You – “ he sighs and after a handsy inspection of your other leg, covers his eyes with his hand and presses down on his eyelids as the urge to hold you in another chokehold resurfaces. “ – You’re just fucking tired, you smooth-skinned little – ” he huffs and halts the slew of curses less you start crying even harder.

You don’t have time to react when he grips your sides and lifts you in the air before tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of tatoes. You wretch when his shoulder digs into your stomach and cough it off with arms flailing. Shaky hands clutch at the back of his coat as he secures one arm around your bare thighs and begins walking as if he’s not carrying another full-grown adult.

“Throw up on me and I will fucking blow your head off.”

He understood your sheltered way of thinking, but this was fucking unheard of. A newborn probably had more stamina than you, more strength too if your display of power earlier while he had you pinned down was the brink of your ability. You were so fragile it was annoying, you wouldn’t last a day out here, would’ve ended up as radroach food if he hadn’t stepped in. You were scrawnier than most people he’d seen and he’d seen plenty, and those who were smaller were on the brink of death from starvation. Who the hell went out in the wasteland unarmed?!

You did…fucking idiot.

“Thank you.” you mumble and audibly exhale, despite his threat, closing your eyes at his scarce kindness and smiling through bitten-down lips to cease your sobbing. You tried ignoring the fact that your butt was a few inches away from his face or that his hat grazed against your side with every step he took. Such bashful thoughts had no right to take up space in your head, but then again, he was your first friend and just having him around shot bolts of excitement through you.

Sure, he was a bit…rough around the edges. But he had saved you and he was carrying you back home. And he was a surface dweller who’d probably never known the comforts of the vaults so you couldn’t hold him accountable for being aggressive. Well, you could, and technically should, but you knew better than to bite the hand that feeds you.

“Don’t thank me, princess.” he snorts and pats your thigh in feign caringness. “You owe me supplies. I ain’t gonna let you cheat me outta that.”

“There’s a few of them, though…the criminals, I mean.” you mused over what to call them while chewing on your bottom lip, hanging off the shoulder of a ghoul in a thin sundress, carried through a desert, like it was just a normal day.

They had looked more like bandits, but what else were you supposed to label them as? The judgment system was a thing of the past, so what were these people considered now? Outlaws? You continue with a pang of concern, fearing for the safety of your rugged savior, too attached to the idea of companionship and just sick of seeing violence. You’d had enough for one day.

“Are you sure you can handle them? They didn’t seem very friendly.”

“First off, they’re called raiders. Everyone ‘round here’s a criminal now.” he laughed, tipping his head back and you feel the raspy chortle swell your chest.

You liked him happy, he was almost charming this way. Or maybe it was a “Rescue Romance” you were experiencing and the ghoul was just a crusty weird man who had saved you without considering what a pest you might turn out to be. You’d try to find that one psychology book and re-read it once you got back home just to make sure.

“Stop swooning!”

“Second, it’s my job. I’m a bounty hunter, sweetheart. I kill people for a livin’.” he tilted his hollow nose to the side, addressing you properly as he spoke, and if you’d seen the gesture you would have appreciated it.

“Oh,…a bounty hunter? Like in the Old West then! I’ve read so much about that!” you squeak and perk up, wiggling in excitement as your face beams. Your calf twitched as some feeling returned to your limp legs and it only added to your brightened mood. Now you could actually feel the cool texture of his coat gliding against your skin.

You didn’t see his features grim or how his hat tipped to obscure sunken eyes and hide the brisk vulnerability swirling in them or the flash of regret, the pain, the little piece of humanity he didn’t even know he still had. His grip on your thigh tightened and you strayed to one side and glanced at the back of his head in question, expecting him to be more boastful about his job. Instead, he was mournfully silent and you feared you’d said something wrong, reopened an old would accidentally.

“Just like the Old West, yeah.” he nodded with a low grunt and you frowned. The words slip past his teeth with such dreadful familiarity that you can’t help the curiosity that would no doubt be your downfall one day. You press a tender palm between his shoulder blades, more for your sake rather than his, and pray he didn’t change his mind to drop you and leave.

You doubted books were a common luxury in this crumbling world, you also doubted the ghoul was a man of knowledge, he didn’t look like the type to read. Maybe there were still movie cassettes and TVs in good enough shape to be used and that’s how he learned of the old cowboy history. As slim as those possibilities were, they made more sense than him being alive before the apocalypse and still walking the earth in the present time. His distorted appearance didn’t give you any indicators of his age, so trying to guess was out of the question, but even then the war was over two hundred years ago. He couldn’t possibly…

Maybe you were simply overthinking, but the way he’d said it sounded like he’d lived through it and the longer you pondered over that the sharper your awareness became.

“How long do ghouls live, mister?” you ask, uncertain of what he’d answer, but holding onto your speculations until he did.

“That the vault?” he shoots back, coming to a halt and straightening and completely sweeping away your inquiry.

It was a good enough answer and despite your gnawing curiosity, you decided not to press the matter further because you didn’t know how far his courtesy extended before he had his gun pressed to your temple again.

You hadn’t even noticed how much ground he’d covered with you slumped over him, everything around you looked the same and with fatigue fogging your lapse of time it wasn’t surprising. He was built for endurance or…mutated for it. What exactly was a ghoul, anyway?

You coil around him like a snake and he holds you secure as you clutch at his shoulder and turn until you can see what he sees.

The distinct metal of the vault door glinted in the dying sunlight, mostly concealed by debris and toppled over stone blocks.

Everything around you was bathed in warm hues of maroon and deep orange and for just a moment the world felt so peaceful. The sun had almost completely set, dipping behind golden dunes, the breeze hollered a deft, haunted tune and there was no noise besides you and the ghoul’s breaths. It was all so beautiful you wanted to cry, your eyes dampened as you soaked in the sight with a slack jaw. The magic of a sunset was so foreign it hadn’t even registered until you’d been made to look around instead of troubling yourself with the bounty hunter’s backstory.

How could something be so impossibly mesmerizing?

“Yeah…” you manage to answer, at a loss for words, yet still conscious of the question and your friend’s proven lack of patience. “Yeah, that’s it.”

He plops you down unceremonially without even asking you if your legs were back in order before grabbing your arm and dragging you along. You waddle after him like a duckling and clutch at his coat when your ankles intertwine and trip you in your stride. A startled noise escapes you, but you successfully manage to keep up with his hasty footing until he’s pulled you directly in front of the vault door, grumbling at your clumsy nature and lack of coordination. A few low curses are hung over your head but you don’t pay them any mind.

“Open it.” he demands and pushes you forward, then unclasps his gun and then another you hadn’t even noticed he had.

Whatever nonchalant demeanor you’d made him settle into was discarded for one so icy and sharp that you failed to understand how he just switched within a blink.

You straighten your dress with a huff, patting out the newly acquired wrinkles and trying to ignore the variety of stains. The Pip-boy is raised up as you maneuver around the plethora of menus.

The ghoul steps closer, stopping once he’s right behind you with a raised weapon and steady eyes glued to the entrance. The lid hisses and you recoil at the scratchy sound until you’re pressing back into him, he wraps an arm around you on instinct, then scowls and rips away as if burnt by a hot rod.

“Watch your step.” he hisses and points the guns at the entrance, treading cautiously, on high alert for any noise that echoes beyond the darkness. Once he’s glued to the vault door he beckons you with his hand and you quickly follow, feet pattering against the metallic floor until you’re closely pressed to his side and peeking from behind him.

It wasn’t scary when he was with you. You strangely didn’t fear the raiders lurking inside anymore, only worrying over the potential harm they might cause him. But he’d proven more than capable, you made yourself believe he’ll be just fine and so would you.

When nothing comes and he’s confident the threat lies further inside, he steps past the entrance.

“Stay behind me.” he makes a face at his statement, then glances back at you. “And don’t get in my way.”

#the ghoul fanfic #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul #the ghoul fallout #x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #fallout tv series

[hearts-are-connected]

Dang it, I love this ship and I love the enemies to lovers trope. I get that a lot of people see them as a surrogate father and daughter relationship, but it feels like a been there/done that kinda thing.

As much as I love that trope, I'm also a little tired of it. There's only so much Last of Us style found family I take after seeing it for so many years.

The thing I love about VaultGhoul or Ghoulcy is the idea of Lucy breaking down of Cooper's walls while he helps build hers up.

Is he incredibly cruel to her and those around him in the first season? Yes, extremely

Does he need to chill out and find some of his humanity that's been buried under 200+ years of wasteland survival and bitterness? Yes

Who can bring that needed direction to his life while learning the ways of the new world she finds herself in? Lucy MacLean

I know that the canon ship of the show at this moment is Lucy and Maximus, and as much as I love him, I find the pairing obvious and kind of boring from a story telling perspective. I loved it on my first viewing, but upon re-watching the series, I wasn't as behind it as before. I see their relationship, kiss and all, as a kind of first fling for the both of them.

While it doesn't diminish the care they show one another, there's not a lot behind them as a couple. Now I know that some people might turn around to say how she and Cooper spent less time together than her and Max, but I guess the thing I look forward to is seeing what their relationship brings with the second season.

I feel like Max and Lucy will have a great friendship and I'm interested to see where the Brotherhood fits into their dynamic as well.

With Cooper though, I find his story so tragic, as it's supposed to be. He's your standard hardened survivor who only looks out for himself that's now stuck with the happy-go-lucky main character, however, she's not that character anymore by the end. She's still going to be the Lucy we love, but she's changed by the end. While not losing her compassion and some optimism, I think Cooper is going to bring out a harsher side to her as we saw when she bit off his finger.

I want to see her building up her walls and learning when to let them down. How to truly survive while still bringing her own energy to the wasteland and people around her. I want to see Cooper regaining some lost humanity while learning to truly care for another person again. To see the two of them as eventual equals in one another's eyes as they continue on their journey as reluctant allies.

I also want to say that I'm personally kind of tired of the 'age gap' argument. We have stories of teenagers falling in love with hundred year old vampires. So can we just drop the age gap thing?

As long as they're both consenting adults who understand what they're getting themselves into, who cares about an age gap.

Does it truly matter in the scheme of things when we're talking about a world with cryo-stasis and super mutants?

I personally don't think so.

I don't know if anyone will even bother reading this entire thing, and I know I went on a little long, but I wanted to write down my thoughts on the whole shipping situation with the Fallout TV show fandom at this moment.

I'm a VaultGhoul shipper and I can't wait to see where the second season takes our main trio of characters.

#fallout show #fallout amazon #ghoulcy #lucy x cooper #vaultghoul #cooper howard #lucy maclean #a ghoul and his girl #a girl and her ghoul #I ship it #Can't wait for season 2

[emphistic]

Can't Relate to Desperation

A/N: requested by anon — i apologize for how long this took; this was fun to write

— just a heads-up: this is preschool!Sukuna

“—I was wondering if you could help me with a little favor.”

“Sure, shoot.” Your friend was surprised to see Sukuna — out of all people — approach them, but they didn't show it.

“Y/N’s birthday is pretty soon, and I don’t have any ideas on what to get her.” Sukuna had known you for a long while. But that didn’t mean he knew what you wanted for a birthday present. I mean, he obviously knows your likes and dislikes. Your hobbies and pastimes. Your favorite colors, foods, drinks, movies, even. But none of those gave him an idea for a meaningful birthday present.

“Ohh, yeah. I'm getting her a matching pajama set! Because we’re going to have a sleepover after her party.”

Sukuna mentally raised a brow at that, he thought you guys were already planning on having a sleepover. And he most definitely did not remember inviting anyone else to the sleepover.

“I didn't ask.” Sukuna wanted to get this questionnaire over with already, and go back to playing with you on the swings or something like that.

“Hey! That’s not nice. I’ll tell the teacher.”

“Can you help me or not?”

“No, because you’re a meanie. And meanies don’t deserve my help.” Your friend crossed her arms and turned away from Sukuna, emitting a little ‘hmph’ sound.

“Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Can you just help me?” He couldn't believe he just apologized to someone other than you.

“Fine,” your friend huffed out, turning back around.

All the while, you watched this exchange happen from afar. Earlier, you were back in the classroom, digging through your backpack to find the necklace you had purchased with your early birthday money from your parents. You had planned to give it to Sukuna, but it currently looked like he had acquired another friend.

And, what made it even more disappointing was the fact you spent at least ten minutes looking for him. You waited outside the restrooms, searched the playground, dug through the sandpit — in case he got buried, and even checked the cubbies. Then you took a lap outside, and found him talking to another girl, who happened to be your [second] best friend — (Sukuna being the first).

The smile plastered across your face immediately dropped, and so did the necklace in your hands.

It’s not like Sukuna wasn’t allowed to have other friends, it’s the fact that he doesn't — by choice, obviously — except for you. And it's been that way, ever since you complimented his hair, saying, “I love the pink! It is my favorite color,” which was contrary to many of your other classmates. Most kids actually made fun of him for it, albeit Sukuna would always glare in their direction and the laughter and teasing would stop in an instant.

You couldn't believe your eyes. He usually ignored people who tried to talk to him and pushed aside those who wanted to make friends. So why was he suddenly talking to your friend? Was he trying to replace you? Did he get bored of you? Why were they talking in such a secluded area behind the garbage cans? Was he trying to hide all of this from you?

You wiped your soon watering eyes with your sleeve, grabbed the necklace off the ground, and quickly ran in the opposite direction.

Coincidentally, as soon as Sukuna got all the information he needed from your friend, he saw your figure turning around. Why were you here? He thought.

“Thanks.” Sukuna ran away from your friend, and as soon as he caught up to you, he said, “Hey, where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” You didn't turn around to face him, continuing to run away.

Sukuna came to a halt, staring at your back. What's your problem? Sukuna decided it was probably nothing, and that you just wanted some alone time, so he left you to your alone time and resorted to playing in the sandpit by himself. But it didn't feel the same as when you played with him. The sand was too warm, the sandcastle was off-center with the hills made of sand, the birds’ singing was too loud. Nothing was right.

You had to admit, avoiding Sukuna was like avoiding the sun. You could hide out under roofs and loiter inside the restrooms, but you had to get out eventually. And eventually you did; recess had ended and you had to get back to the classroom to continue your lessons. And who did you sit next to? Take a wild guess.

When you sat down in your seat, you scooted your chair as far as possible away from the boy beside you — who stayed still, utterly confused at your actions, and wondering why the hell you were being this way.

Then, your class was assigned a group project. Sukuna turned to you, expecting the two of you to pair up, but to his surprise, you asked another classmate to pair up instead.

Okay, he thought. Maybe you just want to get social with other people; that's fine. That's normal.

What wasn’t normal was the fact that you continued to blatantly ignore the pink-haired boy even at lunchtime.

Sukuna asked you his usual question, “Do you want to share my juicebox?” And, thank Heavens, you finally looked him in the eye. But then you flatly said, “No,” before turning around and starting to eat your own lunch.

Sukuna frowned. “What’s your deal today? Are you allergic to apple juice now or something?”

“No.” Going back to what you did earlier, you didn't face him this time, choosing to eat your sandwich in peace.

Usually, you gave him the crust of your sandwiches to eat, because you didn’t like how they tasted, and he did, but you decided against that today. Which was a shame, Sukuna was looking forward to eating your sandwich’s crust.

“Geez, okay. Be that way, I guess.” Sukuna stabbed the straw into his juicebox and drank. But like the sandpit, it just wasn't the same.

This continued all day. And I mean all day.

Sukuna was starting to get real upset. This frustrated him deeply. He swore that if you kept on avoiding him and running away every single time he tried to approach you, he was going to end up with white hairs at the age of four.

Did you not want to be his friend anymore? Did you finally grow to dislike his pink hair that you once loved so much? He hoped the answers to those questions were a definite ‘no’.

He hoped the answer to those questions was a definite ‘no’.

Finally defeated and having given up on his searching for you all over school, he walked to the playground, hoping that swinging would clear his head. And God, he was so thankful he did just that. Because upon entering the play area, he found you, already sitting on the swings and swinging sadly, by yourself. You were swinging sadly on the swings, yes, indeed you were.

It was quite an amusing sight, to anyone who didn’t know the context. But Sukuna did, to an extent, at least. He knew you were upset, and that the likely cause was him. It was always him. Always. Good or bad, happy or sad, he was always the cause, for you. But you wouldn’t have it any other way, right?

Your head was low, focused on staring at the ground beneath you as you swung back and forth. Sukuna thought you looked cute like that — your braids dangling in front of your face, as you basked in the sun’s rays.

But then Sukuna remembered the task at hand, and made sure to approach you with caution and much needed confidence [in himself].

When he got closer to you — only a few feet apart — he quickly realized why your head was so low when you raised it to look at him, tears in your doe, yet angelically pure eyes.

He cleared his throat. “Y/N. What’s . . . wrong? What’s upsetting you? . . .Is it me?” He whispered the last part, to the point it was barely audible; but you heard him. You always did.

“Why don’t you go and talk to your other new friend, huh?” You spat out, stifling a hiccup as it came.

“Wait—what?” Sukuna’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Don’t play dumb. I know what you did. I know what you’re doing. You can replace me with whoever you want, I don’t care, not anymore. Now go away so I can play all by my lonesome.

“Y/N, I’m not replacing you. I know you’re a dummy sometimes but. . . Where’d you even get such a ridiculous idea?”

“Oh, so I’m the dummy?” you retaliated.

Then it hit him, you were referring to earlier this morning, when he was talking to your friend for advice on what to get you as a birthday present.

“I—you’ve got it all wrong, Y/N. All wrong. I wasn’t, I’m not, and I would never ever replace you. So get that stupid idea out of your head already. I was just asking her for help to . . . get you . . . something — for your . . . birthday, that’s coming up soon.” He didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but if it would make you feel any better, he couldn’t care less about keeping a silly little secret.

“Oh, Sukunaaa! You could’ve just asked me!” You jumped off the swings, swiftly wiping your teary eyes dry, and tackled Sukuna into a hug. The two of you fell into a giggling mess of tangled limbs on the ground.

And to your surprise, the following week, Sukuna gifted you a necklace at your birthday party. It was a cheap, dainty necklace, that much was obvious. But opening the heart charm revealed a poorly taken, bad quality, photo of you and Sukuna both. You two were smiling like idiots, embraced in a hug, and you recognized the picture to date back to when you visited Sukuna at one of his basketball games. The first game of his that you went to, actually.

The cherry on top was the fact that the necklace he got you was the same necklace you were planning on giving him before you saw him talking to your friend last week.

But, ah, it was whatever. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside

#sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff #i think this is #sukuna angst

[ddejavvu]

pairing: anakin skywalker x reader:

summary: anakin fucks people that remind him of you

warnings: smut, minors dni. intense obsession (it's anakin), dubious fantasies, he doesn't treat his hookups very well

for @hanasnx who i have left waiting for far too long for this.

anakin fucks people that remind him of you.

he's hopelessly, obsessively in love with you. that much has been true since he'd met you. but you're with someone else, and no matter how much he tries willing your relationship to end; no matter how long he spends in some devilish imitation of prayer to the only god he knows, the Force, you're happy with another.

eventually, squeezing his eyes shut and picturing your face isn't enough to get him to shoot a load all over his stomach. he does it too many times, he rubs his cock raw and the novelty fades.

he makes it a point to inhale when he's near you, especially if you grace him with a hug. he commits the smell of your body spray to memory, and scours every care shop he can find until he picks up a bottle that matches your scent. he screams his throat raw into the pillow that he's sprayed with your smell as he fucks his fist. this works for a bit, but like the addiction you are, it fades again. he needs more.

he doesn't go out looking for someone like you, but when he spots a familiar haircut across the dingy lower-level bar that makes his cock twitch, he goes after them. it's not you, their face is less defined and rounder at the forehead, but he gets a terrible, awful, evil idea and he coaxes them to the back corner for a quick fuck. he squeezes his eyes shut and when they try kissing him and it doesn't bring with it a rush of your scent, he pushes them away and keeps them pinned to the wall while he jackhammers into them.

it gets worse, spiraling, spiraling, spiraling until he's fixating on a stranger with your cheekbones, a passerby whose voice sounds like yours. he lets them display their similar traits; cheekbones gets the privilege of his nose buried against their face and singsong gets to moan. if cheekbones dares moan though- it's not your voice, and he steals the breath from their lungs for just long enough to fuck it out between their hips and hike his pants back up.

the more he fucks, the worse he gets. he doesn't know he's moaning your name until someone has the gall to correct him, a breathy, "No, no, I'm- I'm Raya.'

Anakin kicks up a panicked, grunting wail as your face shatters and falls from his mind, the sound guttural and angry as he pins Raya's wrists beside their head. they're touching him but not like you would, so they're not allowed to touch him anymore. and they said their name was not yours, so they're not allowed to talk anymore. and they're ruining his fantasy, so would they just shut up so he can finish already? His raging cry covers the most part of their name but doesn't erase it; anakin has to muzzle them with his large hand to get enough of his fantasy back to where he's able to spill into your warm, wet hole, and he doesn't offer them so much as a courtesy kiss on the way out.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker scenario #anakin skywalker oneshot #anakin skywalker one-shot #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker headcanon #anakin skywalker headcanons #anakin skywalker hcs #anakin skywalker hc #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker blurb #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker dialogue #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker smut

[aliaology]

WANT ME DEAD

summary: loving and being loved by jack hughes was supposed to feel like a breath of fresh air— but the air was quickly stripped from your lungs when you realized it was never real

pairings: jack hughes x fem!reader

warnings: heavy angst, one sided love, bets, death

uhm heavily UNEDITED LOLL she kinda sucks but

you knew jack was the one for you the moment he came up to you after one of his games just to apologize for someone in the crowd accidentally pouring their beer on you— someone who he had no idea existed.

you knew jack was the one for you when he would make an effort to call you every night, always waiting for you to answer before saying, “hey, pretty girl.”

you knew jack was the one for you when he came to your house the night after your brother got into a car crash. he held you tightly— whispered sweet nothings into your ear as his hold never loosened.

you knew jack was the one for you the moment ‘i love you’ slipped through his lips; like little secrets only he wanted you to know.

but, your entire relationship wasn’t private— no it was entirely public. not public in you posting each other, but public in him telling every little detail to his best friends: trevor and cole.

you realized jack was a shitty man the day you overheard him on the phone. his voice; the one you grew to love, was speaking to trevor.

you realized jack was a cruel man the day you heard him admit out loud to his mother how this was all fake. you realized his mother was an admiring woman the moment she started to yell at him. you realized jack would never be a good person the moment he lied to you.

“was any of it real to you?” you whispered as you looked at his back. you watched him tense up before turning to you.

“what—what do you mean?” he was acting oblivious— sinking into it.

“how much of our relationship was fake to you, jack?” you spoke, your eyes held pain in them as you teared up.

“where is this coming from, baby?” he asked.

you let out a scoff mixed with a choked sob. “why are you still performing in front of me? im not stupid jack, ive heard you! you called me stupid for believing this. you just told your mom it was just because you wanted money.”

“baby..” jack spoke lowly. his eyes held guilt, anger.

“were you sent by someone? someone who wanted me dead? because you are fucking killing me, jack. ive been back and forth with myself, trying to convince my head that you were lying; or even just joking. ive tried for defending you against my head for so fucking long, jack.”

you watched as ellen stood there; clearly torn apart by the entire thing. of course she loves her son, but he was ruining you.

“you knew i loved you— you knew that and you still did this? you couldn’t have a fucking heart and just reject me?” you were desperate— desperate for his love, even after this.

“i didnt want to hurt you..” he trailed off.

you let out another scoff. “good fucking riddance”

you had tears running down your cheeks. you turned around, trying to not let him see you cry. you felt his hand touch your shoulder— which you quickly shrugged it away.

“dont you dare— you have no right.. no right to touch me right now.” you were a mess— a full on mess. “you— i let you see all of me, all of it.” you brokenly whispered.

“i let you in— you came to my brothers funeral for fucks sake, jack! i cried on your shoulder— you told me, you said so many things.” you cried out.

jack watched you break down, his brows furrowed as guilt washed over him.

“i took you to my moms grave.” you whimpered out, your lip quivering as you shakily spoke.

ellen came over, her arm wrapping around your shoulders. “come on sweetie, lets get you outside.” she whispered.

you sobbed into your hands as she began to lead you outside. “mom—“ jack tried to speak but was immediately cut off by the look she gave him.

that night, you declared ellen hughes as your savior. that night, you declared jack hughes as the shittiest man to exist. the smallest man who ever lived.

i need to make a new taglist bc i forgot everyone and it was so messy last time 😭😭 lmk if u want tags from now on babes!!

#hockey #jack hughes #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #new jersey #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes imagine #jhugh86 #jhugh #jhughes #hughes brothers #jack hughes 86

[rougecreator1]

Hello! How are you? Hope you're doing good. I was wondering if I could request a Poly!Pastics x reader where the reader is a HUGE people pleaser and R does everything for everyone and it got so bad to where R stayed awake for three weeks straight to have time to make everyone happy. The girls have enough and force force their girlfriend to sleep and not stress over other people?

Sorry if it's too much or top specific.

Whats One More?||

|| Poly!plastics x fem!reader

(i myself am poly!)

|| Warnings: swearing, super long, Reader's absolutely exhausted, Regina being Regina, comfort (i dont think there's too many, if i missed something lmk)

|| Summary: Reader keeps helping out everyone to the point where it begins to effect her sleep schedule. Ms. Norbury notices and brings it to the attention of the plastics, who comfort Reader and get Reader to sleep.

Requests open!

Started: April 20th

Finished: April 21st

~~~

To say you were a people pleaser would be an understatement. You weren't sure if there was a better word to describe it, maybe... doormat? You couldn't say no to save your life. It was a genuine problem that often spiralled beyond your control. Well, you could control it. If you just said no. But that was mean. You hated the thought of anyone hating you, so you worked overtime to make sure that never happened.

Today was no different.

"Hey, Y/N! Wait up!" Shane Omen yelled your name from across the hall as you stood at your locker, making you internally groan. You didn't like Shane but you never showed it. You forced out a smile as you looked at him.

"What's up, Shane?" You asked, keeping your tone your signature calm one. As opposed to the internal screaming that was going on in your head. Why couldn't he just leave you alone? You had been having an amazing day before he showed up.

"Mind doing my homework for me? I'm just so busy this week that I have no time for it. Oh, and my buddies too. I'll pay ya." He smirked at you, clearly trying to use whatever charm he could muster. This wasn't the first time it's happened. His friend had walked up next to him, holding a large stack of papers up to his chest which you could only assume was the entirety of Shane's friend groups overdo homework.

You held back a sigh.

"Yeah. When do you need it done by?" You asked. Reluctantly. You hated the thought of doing all that extra work, but then again you hated the thought of someone hating you more than you hated the idea of doing the homework. So you'd do it. On top of your own you already had to do, plus you had promised Karen you'd help her out with hers.

"This Friday." He replied, gesturing for his friend to give you the work. Which he did. He practically shoved it into you.

The sudden weight added to your binders almost made you stumble, this Friday? It was fucking Wednesday. That gave you two nights. Shit, you'd have to pull all nighters in order to get this done, your own work, AND help Karen. Maybe Karen should come first, since she was her girlfriend. Restart.

Karen, your own work, and Shane's shit. That's the order you gathered in your head. You could help Karen out tonight, get your own work done after and get it all done in one session so you could focus the rest of the day tomorrow on Shane's stuff. Yeah, that could work.

"Yeah... I got it. You don't have to pay." You smiled at him, he gave your shoulder a playful nudge. Sure, the money for your time would be nice. But you hated the thought of taking someone's money. Even if it was Shane Omen's.

"You're amazing, Y/N!" Shane and his buddy walked off, high fiving each other and clasping their hands together with a smirk. You rolled your eyes and readjusted the papers and your binder with your knee. Sighing at the sight of the stack you now held.

Finale bell went, showing the end of the day. Which you were grateful for.

You moved the papers and binders to one side so you could hold it with a single arm comfortably. Then opened your locker with your now free hand, holding your knee up to keep the papers from slipping. Grimacing slightly at your awkward option as you pulled your bag from your locker, stumbling back as the bag came out. Though your balance was caught by Gretchen, who gave you a soft smile and held you as you gathered your footing. Slinging the bag on your shoulder then holding the papers with both arms again.

"Thanks, baby." You smiled at your girlfriend, Karen quickly came up behind her and smiled at you.

"Y/N!" She gave you a quick hug, you kissed Karen's cheek since your hands were too full to hug her back.

Gretchen looked at all the stuff in your arms and raised an eyebrow," What's all that?"

"Shane's stuff. He needed some extra help." You explain briefly, not giving too many details. Gretchen narrowed her eyes at that. You were helping Shane? Shane Omen? Why?

She was going to ask more, when Karen suddenly frowned and interrupted.

"You're still helping me tonight, right?"

"No yeah, yeah of course! Come over to mine when Regina drops us off, okay?" You assure her, feeling a little bad for making her think you wouldn't be able to help her too. Even if it was an accident. As for Regina dropping you off, she pretty much always takes you to and from school along with Karen & Gretchen.

Karen smiles gratefully at you and pulls you in for a kiss, you happily kiss her back and Gretchen takes a photo of the two of you.

"That's so cute! It's going on our shared insta." Gretchen says with a little squeal, opening insta on her phone and going to the shared account you all have access to. She posts the photo with the caption: look at these cuties 🥺💕

You break the kiss and smile at Gretchen, your group text then goes off with a text from Regina.

|| Regina: where the hell are all of you?? I'll leave you here if you dont hurry your asses.

There's a pause before another text comes in.

|| Regina: YOU BETTER NOT BE MAKING OUT WITHOUT ME

You laughed when you read that one, Gretchen giggled too and you glanced at Karen with an innocent grin.

"She must've seen the photo." You say with a laugh, the girls nod their heads in agreement and the three of you head to Regina's jeep. You didn't want to keep her waiting longer than you already have.

At the jeep, Karen and Gretchen got in the back while you took your usual seat in the front next to Regina. Who was already looking at you expectantly.

"Just a sec," You tell her, attempting to stuff your binders and additional papers into your bag so they didn't blow away when Regina drove. Considering her jeep had no doors, something you found awfully inconvenient.

Regina groans and rolls her eyes," Ugh. Why do you have so much extra papers anyway?"

"Helping Shane." You reply, part of you had wanted to lie because you knew Regina wouldn't like the answer. But if she found out about the lie (and she always does) that would've made things way worse.

Regina looked offended," What? Seriously? Why the fuck?"

"He asked and I couldn't say no.." You admit in a mumble, making Regina narrow her eyes at you.

"You gotta work on that. Seriously, Y/N." Regina says, you finally get everything to fit in your bag before you looked at her with a frown.

"You know, Regina's right Y/N." Gretchen pipes up, leaning forward and resting her arm on Regina's back seat as she looks at you with a concerned gaze." You take on way too much from other people."

"But they'll get mad if I say no." You respond, turning your gaze to Gretchen for a moment.

"So? Fuck them, let them get mad." Regina shrugged and grabbed your chin, making you look at her before kissing you roughly. Your eyes widened at the suddenness of it but you melted into the kiss. She broke it off and wiped your bottom lip with her thumb, smirking at you," You owed me a kiss."

You blushed deeply and she laughed at your reaction, shaking her head and starting up her car.

"You're too easy. But fuck, Y/N. You gotta stop letting people walk all over you. You're not a fucking doormat." Regina's words may have been harsh, but they were the truth. You did need to stop letting people walk all over you.

~~~

But maybe not today. It was now Monday. You had managed to get everything done for Friday, much to your own sacrifice. You haven't slept a wink since Tuesday night before everything happened. And you were starting to feel it. Sure you could have slept on the weekend, but your girls dragged you around to house parties both Saturday night and Sunday night. You stayed sober to keep an eye on them and be the designated driver and you probably could have slept when you got them home, but you wanted to make sure nothing happened throughout the night. So you've been awake for almost a week straight. It was hell.

Today you had Chess Club, an extra curricular club you had chosen. You managed to get your girlfriends to agree to let you do it, Gretchen had put up a bit of an argument but when she saw how good you were at the game she let it slide.

You sat in your usual spot at the library, a chess board in front of you as played off against your best friend; Flow Scotts (short for Florence). You guys had met when you joined Chess Club, having been paired together day one. The two of you were a pretty even match and would face off against each other frequently, which built the friendship between the two of you.

You studied the board as you rubbed one of your eyes, plotting your next move while trying to stay awake. She already had you in check with her bishop, so you moved your own bishop to block hers. With the Queen defending the bishop it was a solid move, if she decided to take your piece blocking your King you could safely take hers with your Queen. sorry to the non-chess nerds who aren't going to really understand my rambles here.

Flow made a huff sound and you laughed, smiling at her when someone comes to sit next to your table. You didn't recognize him, so you assumed he must've been new to the Club as he watched your game with an interest only Chess Club members seemed to have in their eyes.

Flow blinks and looks up from the board, getting distracted from whatever strategy she had been forming in her head." Can we help you?"

"Oh! Hi! Um, Mr. Rapp told me I could come join you guys here. And like observe and maybe play winner. I'm James." He introduces himself, you and Flow glanced at each other and you shrugged.

"Alright. This is Flow, I'm-" He stops you with a smile.

"Y/N. I know, everyone knows. You're dating the plastics." James says, you sighed. You hated when people called them that. They were so much more than 'the plastics' behind closed doors.

"Right." You nodded your head.

"Also, I'm still sort of new to Chess and Mr. Rapp said that one of you could help me out with like extra chess lessons after school?" James continued on, you glanced at Flow.

"I have soccer practice after soccer today." Flow looks back at you. Flow didn't play soccer, she clearly just didn't want to tutor him.

"Yeah, okay. I'll do it. Meet here five minutes after the bell." You tell James, who gives you a grateful smile.

You had a test you had wanted to study for after school and a project you had wanted to use the school lab computers for, but now you were stuck tutoring James. You figured you could just pull another all nighter to get the work done. What's one more?

~~

Well, one more turned into many more. It's been a total of three weeks since you last had a decent, solid sleep and it was really affecting your grades. People just kept asking things of you and you couldn't tell them no. It was bad.

Ms. Norbury was the first to notice your grades dropping, as your grades in math were pretty solid. They weren't mathletes worthy but they weren't completely low either. You averaged a 75%, which had now dropped down to 68% with your lack of sleep and focus in class.

You were currently in math, which was your fourth period. Trying desperately to pay attention and not fall asleep. Though at one point you droop so low your head hits the table, startling you into a more upright position as people stared at you in confusion. Ms. Norbury narrowed her eyes, sleeping in class wasn't like you. She was sure something was wrong.

"Okay, everybody take 5." She says, people get up and head out while she walks over to you.

"Y/N? Everything alright?"

"Just tired." You tell her in a mumble, you weren't a mumbler.

"Honey, when was the last time you slept?" She asked, crouching down in front of your desk to get a better look at you. She frowned as she saw the dark circles and the very evident exhaustion.

You simply shrugged, to you her voice felt far and distant so you had to put all your remaining energy into hearing her. You couldn't remember the last time you had a good sleep. You knew it had been a while ago, though. All your days just felt as though they had blended together.

That concerned Ms. Norbury further, she debated if she should just send you home at this rate. After all it was just fourth period and she was sure you'd have people in other classes who could get the work you missed.

"Come on, Y/N. How about we call one of your parents and have them come get you?" She said softly, knowing a good sleep at home would be what you needed.

When you heard that you shook your head, you knew your parents wouldn't come get you. Even if you had been throwing up they'd tell you to tough it out.

"They wouldn't.." You say in a mumble, Ms. Norbury frowns at that and tries to think of a plan B. She knew the various cliques and which students hung out with who, so she knew you were close with the plastics. The question was which one would be come get you? Little did she know any one of them would do it in a heartbeat.

She sighed quietly to herself and stood up," Alright, just wait here." She tells you before heading to the class phone and giving someone a call. You weren't sure who.

About five minutes pass before Gretchen comes running into the room, when she saw you she paused and looked at Ms. Norbury. They seemed to have some silent conversation, no. Their mouths were moving. You just couldn't focus enough to hear what they were saying.

You slumped back in your seat and your eyes started to close, exhaustion catching up to you when you felt hands on your shoulders and looked to see Gretchen watching you with worry all over her face.

Gretchen had known that something was wrong. She knew it from the start, but every time she tried to talk about it with you you would just say 'tired' and nothing else so she gave up pressing you on it. She knew she should have tried harder to get the information out of you.

Even Regina had tried too at one point, she noticed when you weren't fully present in a conversation she was having with you. You just kept replying with 'mhm' 'uh huh' and so she tested it by saying 'I dont know what to wear to school tomorrow, think I should go topless?' you replied with a simple 'yepper' and that basically confirmed for her that you weren't listening. So, when she asked what was wrong after getting your attention, you just replied 'tired' to her too. She didn't think to press further.

"Y/N, are you listening?" Gretchen asked, a frown on her lips after she had snapped her fingers to get your attention. You blinked and looked at her.

"Huh?" You didn't realize she had been trying to talk with you.

"I'm taking you to Regina's, Ms. George will come get us." Ms. George was your backup. If one of you needed to go home for whatever reason or just wanted to skip and relax, she always said that she would come get you girls," I texted the groupchat and told them what was going on. They're on their way over, just hang tight. Okay?"

You nodded and not too long after all three were standing before you, Ms. Norbury was back at her desk. Letting you girls have your space.

"You look exhausted." Karen points out. Leave it to Karen to point out the obvious.

Regina narrows her eyes at her and sighs before looking back at you, resting her hand to your cheek and rubbing it gently with her thumb. You lean in a little closer to her touch," Why haven't you been sleeping?"

"Busy." You reply, unable to gather enough energy to say more. The three exchanged looks.

"Busy with what?" Regina replied, she knew you had your Chess Club, tutoring Karen, and your own work on top of that but she didn't think that was enough to get you this tired.

"Helping people." You explain, talking simply again. She groaned at that. That's what caused this?

"Baby, I thought I told you to say no?" Regina takes her hand off you, you feel the warmth leave and you almost slump forward on your desk. You'd been using her hand as support. Her hands rest on her hips as Gretchen catches you and keeps you up, giving your forehead a soft kiss.

"Mean." You respond.

"Excuse me?" Regina looked offended, thinking you had called her mean. You shook your head and desperately looked at Gretchen to translate.

Gretchen tensed, racking her brain to think of what you meant," Did you mean saying 'no' was mean?"

You nodded.

"That's not mean. You can always say no, that's what Gretchen says to me all the time." Karen pipes up, Gretchen gives her a soft look and nods in agreement.

"Y/N/N, you're allowed to have boundaries." Gretchen tells you," is it really worth it if it's doing this to you?"

You were going to respond but there was a knock at the door, you glanced at it and saw Flow there.

"Hey, Y/N. I would've texted but I was walking by here anyway, you coming to Chess tonight?" She asked.

Regina scoffed and folded her arms," Absolutely not. Fuck off."

"Regina, language!" Ms. Norbury narrowed her eyes at the blonde who rolled her own.

Flow tensed at Regina's harshness and looked at you. Gretchen scrambles a response.

"What Regina meant is that Y/N is just super tired, she's going home to rest tonight. Right, baby?" Gretchen looked at you. Expecting you to agree.

Regina looked at you with a look that was basically commanding you to tell Flow 'no'. You hated it.

"Resting tonight..." You grumbled, continuing to speak in simple terms.

Flow's gaze shifted to concern but she nodded her head," okay.. let me know how you're doing later, alright?" She left after that.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Regina kept her gaze on you.

"Awful." You shook your head, disagreeing with her which makes her scoff.

Soon enough, Ms. George comes and picks all three of you up. Bringing you to their place. You were brought to Regina's bed by your girlfriends, who all snuggled up with you in bed. Gretchen on your right, Karen on the left and Regina on top. You easily fell asleep once Regina started giving your neck soft, soothing kisses. Your girls stayed close to you.

You slept for a solid 24 hours and some.

#x reader #fem reader #canon x reader #fanfic #wlw fiction #mean girls #mean girls x reader #regina george #regina george x fem!reader #gretchen x reader #regine george x reader #regina x gretchen #gretchen wieners #karen shetty #karen x reader #regina x karen #karen x gretchen #poly!plastics x reader #poly!plastics

[coffeeshopguest]

please i need stardew valley bachelors in a kinky gangbang with gender neutral or female farmer!

I loved this suggestion but please have mercy, I didn't know which ones you wanted so I did all 6 which was VERY difficult for me to incorporate so I made it sort of cheap in the end to save having to write a whole night of sex with them all 😭 pls enjoy! I'm sorry if it's a little shitty, I've never written or read group sex stuff 😭

The Bachelor's and the Farmer's Night

Word Count: 1569

Pairing: F!Reader x Sebastian, Harvey, Sam, Alex, Shane & Elliott

Warning: 18+, group sex, rope kink, handcuffs, swearing, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, anal mention, oral mention, cum swallowing, light bdsm (choking, spanking), all of it is pretty vague and quickly mentioned except the fingering & vaginal sex

It was Sam's idea. Not that he was gonna openly parade that around to anyone at first. It started as a pathetic fantasy that he would get off on at night, thin walls making him cover his own mouth as he imagined the farmer laying on a bed, tied down, taking it from him and Sebastian over and over. He was ashamed to even incorporate his friend in a fantasy, but the idea of a threesome with the farmer and Sebastian was just...so fucking hot. The idea of watching her get fucked, then fucking her - Sam was a simple man and he nearly came on the spot every single time he imagined it. 

What's worse? He began incorporating the idea of Alex in the mix. He was friendly with Alex - and Sam had seen the farmer interacting with Alex a lot recently. Even throwing around a football with him the other day. Sam didn't immediately think anything of it, until he woke up sweating and hard, having dreamt the farmer and Alex going at it while Sam jacked off and waited for his turn patiently. Slowly, Sam began to think about...what if more people got involved? And oh, god. He finally let it slip to Sebastian. 

"What do you think of that new farmer?" Sam asked as he took a shot for one of the striped balls on the pool table. His voice was even, but his heart was racing a pathetic amount. 

Sebastian leaned on his stick, watching Sam's shot. "She's cute," Sebastian answered. The two made slow eye contact and Sam debated just leaving the whole conversation at that. But something about the way Sebastian stared him down made him crack. 

"Yeah, yeah, she is...uh- you like her?" 

Sebastian took a swig of his drink, nodded a little. "Sure," he said, "why?" 

"How...how do you like her?" Sam gently rested his stick down on the wall, watching his friend. "Like," he began, "sexually...or...?" 

Eyes widening a little, Sebastian tilted his head. "I- we don't usually talk about that kinda stuff," he dismissed, turning his attention to the pool table and ignoring Sam for a moment. 

Sam nodded slightly, before he finally whispered, "I know but I want to...uh..." he glanced around the Saloon to see if anyone was looking towards them. No one was. "I kinda want to...have...some group sex with them." 

Sebastian took a shot, perhaps out of shock, the cue ball launched across the table and sunk a striped ball. He stared down at the table. Quiet. "Just us three or?" 

"Uhm...I was thinking maybe Alex..." 

Sebastian raised his head up, hair falling over his left eye. "The farmer? Did you talk to her?"

 Sam shook his head and Sebastian slowly turned to the table where he'd set his drink aside, grabbing it and gently taking a sip. "Ask her. Tell me when you do."

"You...you're in?" 

Sebastian gave a short nod, and the two acted as though the conversation never even happened. 

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When presented with the idea, albeit from a terrified Sam, you agreed immediately. With a condition. You wanted Sam to invite Elliott, Shane, and Harvey. His eyes widened. 

"Six....you want six guys-" you nodded. Sam had to awkwardly adjust his pants, at the mere suggestion of that many guys fucking you he got hard. Just the idea of watching it was too much for him. "I- I'll see what they say." 

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To Sam's shock, every single person agreed. He was expecting a sharp no from Shane, but he said yes without a second thought. Harvey stuttered out a "Oh...holy shit...uh- at the farm-?" and blushed madly. Elliott tried to maintain some sort of dignity but by the immediate bulge in his pants Sam guessed his answer before Elliott could recover words and agree. Alex tried to act disgusted at first. But then he mumbled a "can I bring handcuffs and rope?" (Sam asked "dude you live with your grandparents in a small town, why do you even have those?" and was met with a glare). 

So it was arranged, a day and time was set. The six made their way down to the farm, chatting quietly amongst themselves. Sam was hard basically half the day before this, eagerly awaiting the nighttime - when his fantasy would become reality. The farmer answered the door, smiling softly at the six men. "Boys, come on in," she smiled. Sam nearly choked, they were wearing a flannel, opened up, only a bra underneath. Fuck. Fucking christ. She was good at this. 

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

Upon being brought to the bedroom, Sam gently guided you to lay down, Harvey quickly mumbled "she needs a safe word-" and the rest agreed. Turning their attention to you. Six flushed, eager faces. You felt like prey laying in the bed, flannel opened to expose your bra. A safe word definitely was needed. As much as you wanted to take all six repeatedly you weren't entirely sure how much you could take before you were too used.

"Red light," you murmured out. "Yellow light means give me a break, but I want to keep going." 

And so it began. Sam quickly ripped off the flannel and tossed it aside, then tore the bra off and threw it aside, his hands wandered to your jeans, slowly unzipping them. Your panties exposed, he gently moved his hand down, rubbing softly against the wet spot. You bit your lip, about to moan. Quickly, Sam backed up, Sebastian took one side of the bed and Alex the other. Hands launched to your chest, as Sam gently finished pulling off your pants. A hand on each breast, gently running your ripples through their fingers, you began moaning out loud. Sam got off the bed. 

"Who wants to go first?" he asked, Elliott stepped forward. He gently undid his pants, erection springing out. He gently lined up. 

You bit your lip, before he backed away, "did...anyone bring lube?" Elliott's voice gently asked. It was Harvey who had, gently digging it out of his jacket pocket and handing it over. Elliott gently poured some into his hand, gliding it across your pussy causing you to moan out. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Sam, eagerly jacking off as he watched. Sebastian was still by your side, but his hands had left your body. Elliott gently shoved a finger in. "I'll start slow, you're about to have a hell of a night," he said reassuringly. 

You looked up into his eyes, nodding softly. He smiled, gently leaning down, placing a kiss on your forehead, before be pulled his finger out. "Did that hurt at all?" you shook your head, and he gently shoved two fingers in, letting your body adjust to the feeling, he slowly began pumping them in and out of you. All eyes were on you and you whimpered softly, meeting eyes with Shane who was still fully dressed. 

"Sha- shane-" you mumbled, gasping as Elliott's fingers expertly worked you. "Can- you- strip?" 

A hand gently laced around your neck, "use manners, baby, what do we say?" it was Sebastian's hand, tight grip but just light enough not to hurt. Elliott's fingers effortlessly kept time. 

"Please?" you whimpered, the hand left your neck and Shane slowly began to undo his belt. As soon as he was stripped, Elliott's hands left you, for only a second you had a miserable feeling of emptiness before Shane swapped with Elliott. 

He postioned himself, hands gently gripping your hips as he found where to line up. "Ready?" you nodded, and with one swift thrust he was in you. Lips found your neck, Shane was focused on fucking you. It was Harvey who had knelt beside you, hand gently gliding down your body to your tit's. Lips on your neck, sucking and leaving a hickey. 

Shane grunted, speeding up more. "Fuck- tight...gonna-" 

"Not in her," Sam whimpered, you had forgotten Sam was still here, in the corner of the events jacking off. "We can't all...not in her." 

To describe the events would be tiring and long and endless. They took turns, spilling themselves over your naked body, in your ass, in your mouth. Alex was partial to rough sex, Sam into watching, Harvey wanted to pleasure you however you asked, Shane was focused solely on his own quick finish, Sebastian wanted to tie you down with Alex's ropes when he fucked you and choke you out, Elliott was gentle and soft and sweet and placed kisses on your forehead as you took their dicks over and over and over. 

In the end, the sun rose when you guys finally ended the session. You had given several sessions of head. Taken fingers, fists, and dicks. Been tied down, choked, spanked, had your hair pulled. And each of them had asked for something the others hadn't. Sam begged to finish by jacking off onto your naked body. Sebastian wanted your lips wrapped around his cock when he finished. Alex, he was the one who dug out a condom so he could feel your pussy tighten around him as he came inside you. 

When the session ended, you simply told all of them. "We're doing this again." 

#stardew valley x reader #sdv smut #sdv sebastian #sdv shane #sdv harvey #sdv elliott #sdv sam #sdv alex #sdv x reader #farmer x sebastian #farmer x shane #farmer x harvey #farmer x sam #farmer x alex #farmer x elliott #stardew valley smut #female farmer #x female reader

[moonit3]

I've been completely addicted to reading your yanderes since yesterday, especially Harem and the Twins.

Therefore, I would like to request a part 3 of the Harem, if possible with more yandere fem, I am extremely lacking with yandere female, if it is not a bother, I thank you in advance for your attention and I am happy with your stories

𓆩❤︎ YANDERE! CONCUBINES HAREM

⟡ cw: yandere! female (of course), gn! reader, mentioned somnphilia (nothing happens i swear), overthinking from concubines, age gap (but like one line only), mentioned blackmail, pure fluff i guess?

⟡ word count: 1.1 k

⟡ notes: a new format? yep, i got a little tired of the same old ive been using since the very first post and its like it changed a lot…also, i am giving up my life to try to get the new mythic mercy skin (even started playing competitive to get more points) and to have aventurine in star rail (i barely have tickets, so i am going to wait to the anniversary rewards…), either way i am working hard to archive my goals and you should too! enjoy today’s writing, my dear readers :)

earlier today you forget to lock your office’s door to prevent the concubines to enter and spend time with you during work hours, which basically mean they are all over the room in completely silence, observing you working in the documents. it’s wearied to have an quiet audience like this one, but you enjoy hearing the breeze outside your office while working and the ladies definitely know, so they keep to themselves when staying at the room with the only goal to admire you.

you catch most of the ladies moving their gaze away when you stare at them when the files start becoming boring, it’s cute to think about these women who often flirt and shamelessly throw themselves at you acting like this. it reminds you they acted so desperate before as many believed that you would kick them out if any of them showed interest in you, but the ladies now know better.

stretching your arms behind your back, a faint smile slowly made to your lips as you know today’s paperwork is coming to an end. it’s a challenge to stay sit down behind the desk and analyze every new law made by the council as the elections has taken place a few months ago. if you only could ask your personal advisers to finish the work so you could take an hour or two to rest, but that won’t be possible as it is necessary to have your signature at the papers.

a yawn came out of your mouth, calling the ladies’ attention towards their beloved one while you didn’t notice their watchful eyes, you did notice how tired you’ve become in seconds. and almost instantly, your body slowly fall into the desk and right there, you began dreaming about tomorrow’s work.

the little noises of snores made all the concubines step closer to check on your sleeping body.

some of them poked your cheeks to try to wake you up, but immediately failed when you just turned out to prevent them from doing so. others had the idea to bring a plate of your favorite meal so you could smell it and suddenly wake up to thank them, but you payed no mind for it. and the remaining ones just accept that you won’t wake up any time soon, so just they carried you back to your chambers to have a proper bed to sleep on.

seeing how your chest goes up and down with your soft breathing, the concubines couldn’t help themselves to just stay quiet to watch you sleeping form. it’s adorable how their great leader looks so precious in a defenseless position like this! all the things they could do with you right now are possible, but they aren’t animal, no. never in a million years would these lovely women use your body without your consent. so, the ladies just stay inside your chamber to admire you.

“should we get our love’s plushies to let them feel savior in their dream?” the daugther of a merchant asked.

“don’t be ridiculous, anne. do you think [name] would be happier if we show that we learn about their secret stock of plushies? I don’t think so.” the third daughter of a former general answered. “also, they can’t know we stole some of them.”

the others nodded, a little scared that you would discover of all the things they have stolen from you. would you learn how many of your undergarments just vanished? or would you question they found out about your recent discussions with the former emperor? every single of them loved hearing the old man scolding you for not having any heirs to the throne, even daring to ask you if you are sterile or just a coward.

while they got angry at the your father for speaking nuisances about your body, the women couldn’t be happier when hearing the words coming out of lips. ”i will h-have my f-first night soon! just let me choose someone, okay?” and that only made them more eager to stay around you. all the ladies made a pact to keep their newly found secret away from the man who are part of the harem, after all, they are already rivals and none of them need more people to complicate their plans.

that’s why the women of the harem have become more overprotective over you in recently days, not that you’ve noticed any change on their behavior. you are too busy working to make the nation better and to take care of the harem as a whole that you barely notice the immense change on their behavior.

“it’s been hours that [name] has fallen asleep! can we wake them up to spend some time with us? please.” a foreign princess was immediately stopped from touching your forehead, her hands quickly slapped away by a older woman.

and that woman is no other than a renowned actress who retired of her incredible care to become part of the harem, but still gaining enormous revenue from her previous works. “didn’t we said to let our love to rest? oh, wait. we have been talking about it for the past hour or so and you keep insisting on waking them up? you are dumb.” the woman’s words made the princess’ face go completely red as a tomato, then leading to a silent argument between the two of them. with everyone else to witness it.

the discussion continued for ten minutes until both stopped when noticing that you’ve wake up due to their constantly shifting in their voices. of course, both of their face became red of embarrassment while the rest of the concubines could only watch you yawning, probably thinking on what you would to the troublemakers.

“…how long i was sleeping?” even with your best attempts, you can’t keep an eye open to see how many women are inside your chamber.

“a-around seven hours, your majesty.” one of them answered. “are we disturbing your rest? if so, we can leave.”

“oh, don’t worry…” a yawn escape of your lips, interrupting your words. “…you, ladies, aren’t bothering me at all. i was just thinking if you guys would like to rest with me.”

did they hear correctly? are you really asking that or they are just imaging those words to make themselves calmer of this situation. but they knew this is real when you began patting the bed, asking them once again if they would like to sleep with you for the rest of the day and of course, all of them accept it.

it didn’t took much time to you fall asleep again, this time surrounded by many and many ladies over your immense bed who almost fought each other to gain the opportunity to lay next to you. the only reason a conflict didn’t broken out was because you began cuddling a pillow of yours, leading to the concubines crying to themselves while others took photos of this precious moment to use as an important blackmail material in the future or perhaps just to sell at a high price to the male concubines.

@moonit3 . don’t repost it, don’t modify it, don’t plagiarize, translate it without my permission.

#yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere writing #yandere female #yandere female x gender neutral reader #yandere girl #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere women #yandere harem #yandere concubines #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings #yandere x gender neutral y/n #x gender neutral y/n #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral insert #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #yandere headcanons #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings #yandere headcanon