#i love reign storm

[hannahmanderr]

DannyMay Day 31 - Free Day

Words: 6,341

Summary: How do you convince someone to allow you to get yourself killed for them? (rewrite of a scene from "Reign Storm"; takes place a bit further down the timeline)

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Danny brushed the flyaway strands of hair from Valerie’s sleeping face. The sight of the burns and bruises dotting her skin filled him with an array of emotions - rage, terror, anguish, drive - each of them their own force to be reckoned with. He inhaled shakily.

Tucker and Sam inched closer to him. He didn’t need to see their faces to know they were looking at each other with that worried glance that they thought he never noticed. They could recognize one of his spirals before it even happened at this point.

“Dude, you can’t blame yourself for this,” Tucker said in a gentle whisper. He placed a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault.” Sam’s eyes echoed the sentiment.

Deep down, Danny knew his friends were right. They’d been over the whole guilt thing before, and logically, he knew he couldn’t pile all the blame on himself. “Maybe not,” he admitted, even as flashes of everything that had happened in the past few days fluttered across his mind - provoking Vlad, provoking the other ghosts, pulling the Soul Shredder from the football field… Each one taunted him, singing songs of his failures and shortcomings, whispering his fears of not being enough back at him.

And yet there was another voice too, a sweet soprano voice peering through the clouds, serenading him with a different set of memories. 

“I think I might’ve finally figured out what these powers are for…”

“So even with everybody thinking you’re a bad ghost, you’re still gonna try to be the hero?”

“Well, somebody’s gotta. Hey, if not me, who’s gonna protect this town? Besides, it’s not like I can ignore a scream for help.”

They bled together in a dulcet harmony and wrapped around his core and made it resonate with a sudden burst of clarity, reminding him of his purpose and his reason why he even tried in the first place.

Just like that, he knew what he had to do.

He turned and looked Tucker dead in the eye. “But it is my responsibility,” he said, the sincerity and boldness firm in his voice. 

Before either of them could say anything, he stood and transformed. As his core flared to life, the surge of power coursed through his veins and strengthened his resolve for what he was about to do. It was almost enough to quell the wave of fear beginning to wash over him.

Almost.

No. He couldn’t focus on that. Now was not the time. Shaking his head, he grabbed each of his friends’ wrists and shot upward, setting them on the roof in front of the short addition Dad had added to house their defense system mainframes.

“Tucker, I need you to get working on hacking into the ghost shield,” he instructed as he phased his hand through the door to jolt the lock out of place. “With it working overtime to cover such a big part of the city, I don’t know if it’s gonna be easier or harder.”

“You want to take it down?” Sam asked, visibly confused.

Danny shook his head. “Just temporarily. I’ll explain more in a minute.” Except would he? Could he bring himself to explain just how far his plan went? Could he trust the two of them to avoid panicking and keeping him from what he knew he needed to do?

First things first. Sighing, he said, “Get working on that. I’ll be right back, I gotta grab something.” Without further explanation, he dove through the roof again, making a beeline for the basement.

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Maddie’s brow furrowed lightly as she watched her husband’s sleeping form. She’d insisted on taking him up to bed a couple of hours ago after overworking himself trying to get the ghost shield’s range increased and alerting the town. Even in his sleep, his breathing was labored, and tremors from the nerve damage wracked his body.

Curse that sleazy rat of a man, Vlad! He’d been the one to persuade Jack to use the Ecto-Skeleton’s lower half in the first place. And that was after Jack had told him use of the incomplete Ecto-Skeleton could be fatal! She closed her eyes to keep from seething. If only Jack hadn’t given in to Vlad’s sweet talk…

But Jack was an honorable man, especially to the people he held dear. Of course he’d follow Vlad’s suggestion. He trusted the man he believed to be his best friend, and she knew he loved her enough to move heaven and earth for her, to lay his own life down to protect hers. His fierce loyalty was one of the things she loved most about him.

It was what inspired her to do what she was about to do.

Two floors down, in the basement, sat the Ecto-Skeleton that she’d finished only half an hour ago. Well, nearly finished. The work was hardly her best, what with it being a rush job, and she still had yet to perfect the neural receptors. The suit was far from being safe for use, but with the threat of this self-proclaimed ghost king looming over her town, she had little other choice. 

She leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss into Jack’s forehead. “I love you so much,” she whispered before standing and leaving their room.

As she made her way downstairs, she peeked in her kids’ rooms. Jazz’s was dark and empty; Maddie figured she was still outside, helping keep panic from spreading. The thought made her smile. It was a job Jazz was born for, especially with her love of therapy and psychology.

Danny’s room had the light on, and Damon Gray’s girl, the one who’d been injured during the initial wave, was still on the ground, propped up on a beanbag chair. Oddly enough, though, her son and his friends were nowhere to be found. It was strange, considering she’d just told Sam and Tucker a few minutes ago that she’d seen Danny and Damon’s daughter up here a while ago (the initial sight of them both asleep in his room had set off her mom alarms, but given the fact that he was on his bed while she was on the floor and there were far bigger things to be concerned about, she let it slide).

Maddie sighed. There wasn’t time to hunt the three of them down. She’d have to cross her fingers and hope they were somewhere safe and out of trouble - perhaps helping Jazz.

Steeling herself, she shut Danny’s door and headed down the stairs. She dashed into the kitchen and opened the door to the lab only to run into Damon.

“Oh, my bad!” he said, catching her arm. “I know we wanted to monitor the shield and the probe as close as possible, but I haven’t seen Valerie in a bit and I want to make sure she’s okay. Is that alright if I go and check on her? I might ask if she wants anything for dinner while I’m at it.”

“Of course!” Maddie answered immediately. “Take as long as you need! Last time I saw her, she’d fallen asleep in Danny’s room. I’m not sure where he or Sam and Tucker went, but she seemed comfortable and safe.”

Damon’s form relaxed just slightly. “That’s good to know.” He sidled past her and towards the kitchen entry. “I’ll go check on her real fast and then be right back down there to help out.”

Maddie smiled. She hadn’t known Damon for long - less than 48 hours, really - but she could tell he was a good man with a heart of gold. The fact that he’d so readily thrown himself into assisting her and Jack warmed her heart.

It seemed like so many people in her life were of such a high caliber. She only hoped what she was about to do allowed her to even measure up just slightly.

“Help yourself to anything in the fridge,” she said, nodding towards it. “Just be careful of what’s in the containment box on the top shelf - trust me, that’s our secondary refrigeration storage unit.”

He let out a good-hearted chuckle. “Thanks so much, Maddie.” He turned to head up the stairs, leaving her in the kitchen alone with her thoughts. Such a good father, she thought to herself before beginning her descent into the basement lab.

The moment she stepped into the stairwell, she knew something was horribly wrong. The air was cold and sharp, so much so that she was certain she was seeing her breath mist in front of her. A heavy, thick presence filled the air, one of worry and fear. Someone was in the lab, muttering under their breath. 

Somehow, she knew exactly who it was.

A careful, silent creep down the stairs proved her right. There, flitting around the Ecto-Skeleton and examining it, was Phantom. In her lab. In her house. Under a ghost shield that had thus far been proven to be impenetrable by any ghost, including the supposed king attacking the town and his knight.

Without taking her eyes off of him, she drew the pistol holstered to her belt and aimed it at him. “Make another move and I’ll shoot you,” she said, surprising herself with the darkness of her voice.

His back was to her when she spoke, but, following her order, he didn’t turn around. “M-Maddie,” he whispered, his voice heavy with dread. “Please, I’m - I promise this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Really? Because from where I stand, it looks like you’re in the middle of sabotaging the one hope anyone has of saving this town!”

“Sabot- Really?” He turned around to face her, but didn’t move closer. She gripped the trigger just a little tighter. “Even in the middle of the worst attack we’ve seen yet, you’re still bent on making me into the main problem?”

“Well, what am I supposed to think when I find you tampering with our weapons?” She did find his insistence to turn the situation into something revolving around him haughty and very typical for him in particular, but she held her tongue about the issue for now. Unlike him, she was focused on the real problem at hand.

Phantom huffed, a move that should’ve been impossible for a being without lungs. “I’m not tampering with it,” he said with strained patience. “I’m trying to figure out how to get in this thing. Or where the ‘on’ button is, or something.”

“And just what do you plan on doing with it?”’

“Seriously? What do you think I’m gonna do with it?” He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I have to stop that guy!” he exclaimed, pointing up and vaguely out of the house.

“Even if I believed you,” she scoffed, “you have no right to invade our home and steal our invention to use for your own gain!”

Without warning, his face grew suddenly somber. Before Maddie’s eyes, he seemed to age years beyond his portrayed age. For the first time since discovering Phantom’s existence, she wondered if his teenage stature was a conscious choice or merely the body he’d had when he died.

That thought chilled her to the bone.

He lowered his gaze to the floor. “It isn’t for my own gain,” he said quietly. “It… I know you don’t believe me, but I really am doing this for you. For everyone.” Then in a near whisper, he said, “It’s my responsibility.”

Maddie narrowed her eyes as she pondered his words. The claim was the same as it had been since day one: he was trying to be the hero, the one good ghost in a sea of evil ones. He hadn’t wavered from that, except for a few times, which, admittedly, could be counted on one hand. At least he was consistent, if nothing else.

She just couldn’t make sense of it. The MO went against everything she and Jack understood about ghosts. If she were to accept his claimed intentions as true, it would mean dozens of theories, hundreds of hours of heated discussion and research, many attempts at creating basic behavioral profiles, they’d all be thrown out the window.

Not to mention the inherent danger of letting their guard down. Ghosts were notoriously tricky, and their ability to do things beyond human capabilities made them even more dangerous of a threat. Phantom especially was one who seemed harmless at first, but who had displayed impressive, terrifying power (and the potential to take it even further). He, like this ghost king, could probably raze the town in less than an hour if he really wanted to.

So… did he want to?

She studied his body language closer. His eyes were still fixed on a distant spot on the floor, and they were glassy as his own thoughts raced through his head. Though he seemed more serious, more battle-worn, he also seemed to be retreating into himself, making himself try and appear smaller than normal. It was hard to believe anyone who looked so solemn and resigned could be secretly plotting to wreak destruction. 

“No one ever said it was your responsibility,” she said, matching his tone. 

He smiled wryly. “I know,” he admitted with a one-shoulder shrug. “But it doesn’t make it any less true.”

Maddie sighed deeply and holstered her weapon, much to Phantom’s astonishment. She crossed the room and laid a hand on the cold titanium exterior of the Ecto-Skeleton. “It doesn’t matter if it’s your responsibility or not,” she said. Now was not the time to decide ground-breaking things about his true intentions. More important things were at hand. “You won’t be the one using this.”

He glanced up at her, then to the Ecto-Skeleton. His gaze flicked back and forth a few times, growing wider as the realization of her implications hit him. “No, no,” he breathed. She jolted when he caught her wrist; his touch was freezing, but unexpectedly gentle. “Mo… Maddie, you can’t! You saw what that thing did to… to Jack, you can’t seriously expect to go up against a ghost that powerful with that thing!”

She didn’t know how he knew what had happened to Jack, but frankly, she didn’t care at the moment. “It’s the only shot we have of defeating him,” she said soberly, pulling her wrist away. “I have to do it.”

“No one ever said it was your responsibility.” Of course he would stoop so low as to use her own words against her. 

“Figures a ghost wouldn’t understand the concept of putting your life on the line for the ones you love,” she muttered. There wasn’t time for this nonsense!

His eyes became thunderous. “That’s just - I’ve…” he stuttered, accentuating it with a shout of exasperation. “Argh, you have no idea what I do and don’t understand! Are you telling me that’s what this is all about?”

“What, proving a factual point to you? I shouldn’t -”

“No, trying to be some self-sacrificial hero for everyone!” he shouted, spreading his arms. “Like why choose now of all the times to play the martyr?”

“It hasn’t been necessary until now!” She hoped her eyes were as piercing as she wanted them to be. Phantom’s inability to understand this only helped prove her and Jack right about his hero act being just that. The fall into familiar territory only marginally soothed her frayed nerves. “My family is in danger. I’m not just going to sit idly by and let them get hurt!”

He lowered his arms and regarded her with a stony expression. It was difficult not to flinch under his gaze, and she got the same aura of a battle-worn boy that had washed over him earlier. Her heart fluttered faster and faster.

She was nearing her breaking point of lashing out just to stop that piercing stare of his by the time he finally did something. Sighing, he hung his head low and, so very quietly, said, “I know.” 

That… hadn’t been quite what she was expecting. “You know?”

“Yeah. I know. You’re always looking out for the people you care about. You’d never just leave them hanging.” He lifted his head and she found herself taken aback by the reverent, proud twinkle that had taken its place in his eyes. He smiled sadly. “It’s always been one of the things I admire most about you.”

Her mouth opened and twisted, but no words came out. Where did she even begin with a statement like that? The idea that he’d been watching her, possibly Jack too, closely enough to form some sort of attachment sent her heart dropping into her stomach, but it was quickly wrenched back into an anxious thump as she realized the implication of him holding admiration.

It should’ve been a distinctly human conception. Ghosts did not admire one another, they couldn’t. They were too proud of themselves and their own power to look into another and find something to emulate. Their individual powers and cores were their entire world.

So how was Phantom demonstrating the exact opposite of that?

She wanted to shout. She wanted to bang her fist against the Ecto-Skeleton. She wanted to stomp her foot and throw something. Why did he always have to do this? Waltz in and out of their lives, poking careless holes in their life’s work? It wasn’t fair! Before he’d shown his face, they’d never held a shadow of a doubt that their theories were true.

But now, though she could never admit it truly, he had forced her to second-guess herself. She couldn’t help but doubt everything she’d ever known as his otherworldly green eyes bore into her own.

She hated everything about it with every fiber of her being.

He raised his eyebrows in concern as she floundered for a response. “Sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly. “I didn’t - well, I did mean what I said, I just… didn’t mean to say it.”

Her own eyebrows frowned, but softly. “If you admire that about me,” she said slowly, not believing the words coming out of her own mouth, “then you understand why I have to do this.”

His smile faded in tandem with the twinkle in his eye. “I… I understand why you think you have to do this,” he admitted. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you can’t.”

“Who are you to tell me what I can and can’t do?” she snapped. This game of cat and mouse was growing on her last nerve, and with each minute that passed, she knew the ghost king grew closer to launching his final assault.

For some reason, it made her angrier that his face was one of solemnity again, not anger. Anger, she could deal with. Angry ghosts were easy.

Ghosts that supposedly admired humans and understood self-sacrifice weren’t.

He bit his lip. “I’m not - no, I’m not trying to… to tell you that you - you’re not allowed to think that way,” he tried to explain, stumbling over his words. “I know I can’t stop you from believing that, and - and that’s fine. I get it. I’m the same way, even if you don’t believe me. I just… What I’m trying to tell you is that you - you physically can’t do this.”

Her frown deepened now into one of perplexity. “Why not? The Ecto-Skeleton is right here. It’s the only thing that could possibly work against that ghost.”

“Sure, you could take it,” he said, “but I keep trying to tell you, you saw what that did to Jack, and that was only the bottom half! Do you really think you’ll be able to use the whole thing and be okay?”

Again, the question of how he knew these details crossed her mind, but she shoved them into the back of her mind. “It may still be glitchy,” she admitted. There was no sense lying to him about the issues with the neural interface; if he knew it had hurt Jack, he probably knew it was still highly dangerous. “But it’s what I keep trying to tell you: there isn’t another choice.”

“Maddie, please.” She could hear the frustration growing in his voice. “This isn’t - it’s not a choice that exists! You really think you’re gonna be able to take that thing and stop him?”

“I’ll stop him or I’ll die trying!” she bit out. 

Phantom looked like her words had just punched him in the gut. “Yeah,” he said hollowly. “Yeah, you’ll try. And one way or another, you’ll end up dead, whether it’s the king or the suit that gets to you first, and then what? What’s supposed to happen?”

She didn’t answer. The way it played out in her head, she imagined the Ecto-Skeleton being enough to cripple the ghost king, at least to the point where someone else, even another ghost could come in and take care of the rest of him. The way Phantom phrased it, though, he made it sound like she’d barely make a dent in his defenses before she got killed.

And the worst part of it was that she was inclined to believe him. The suit’s pants really had sapped such a huge chunk of Jack’s energy in such a short period of time, and though she and Vlad had managed to remedy some of the interface’s complications, there hadn’t been nearly enough time to fix them all, and none of the three of them were quite as familiar with the level of programming knowledge necessary to fix them quickly. 

In other words, with the top half of the suit, using the Ecto-Skeleton as a whole was just as dangerous as it had been with the bottom half alone. She knew this perfectly well. For her to use it - for any human to use it - was practically a death sentence.

And Phantom knew this too. He stared at her, hard and intense. “If you take the suit and go off to fight him,” he told her in a low voice, “you’ll die. And he won’t care. You’re just a puny little thing to him. You’d be nothing more than some annoying fly to take care of before he continues on his warpath. And then what?”

Still, she hesitated. She refused to admit he was right, even as he continued to speak. “You’d be handing this town, your family - everyone over to him if you take that thing. He’ll destroy it before someone else can use it against him, and then it’s game over. Especially if we’re right about it being the only chance.” 

Though his face remained cloudy, there was something else behind his eyes that made them gleam with an anxious shine. Could he actually be… worried about her?

“Then what am I supposed to do?” she whispered. She couldn’t stand how her voice shook with fear and uncertainty. It was a vulnerability she couldn’t afford to expose, not now. 

He straightened and turned to look at the Ecto-Skeleton. “I already told you,” he said, laying his hand next to hers on the suit. “You’re not gonna do anything. It’s gonna be me that takes it.”

“What?” She blinked once, twice as she tried to process what he said. “You’re going to use it?”

He drew in a shaky breath (again, something that should’ve been impossible for him to do) and nodded. “No human could ever have enough power to survive this thing long enough to fight off Pariah Dark.” His exhale was just as shaky. “But I’m no human.”

It was her turn to flick her gaze back and forth between him and the suit. “You can’t possibly expect-”

“Maddie.” He closed his eyes. “You’ve been watching and hunting me for a while now. You know my power, probably better than even me.”

He pressed his forehead against the metal and stilled. She watched him with a frown, but it was impossible to read him. For all that a ghost was supposed to be easy to understand, Phantom was the exact opposite.

“I don’t like to admit it,” he said quietly after a long moment. “I can’t… it’s not easy for me. I don’t like acknowledging what I’m capable of.”

In a flash, he opened his eyes and looked at her. There was a sort of desperation in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place. Just as quickly, he turned his eyes to the ground. “You know just as well as I do that I’m more powerful than I like to let on. We both know that I have a lot more power than just about any of the ghosts that show up around here. I… I’m the only one who even has a shot at stopping him.”

It was strange, hearing him so openly admit his power. He was probably telling the truth about not liking to acknowledge it; most ghosts loved to flaunt their power (the Wisconsin Ghost immediately came to mind), but Phantom tended to exercise restraint in that sense. Oh sure, he loved to mock his opponents and tease them when he was able to get one up on them, but things never escalated beyond battle banter.

But he was right. All of the measurements they’d taken of him, as marred by inaccuracies as they could be, put him at a level 7.3. The average level of the ghosts that attacked the town varied between 3.5 and 5.8. If he wanted to, he could take out those ghosts without breaking a sweat.

And yet he didn’t.

Nothing about him made sense.

“So you think you can actually beat him?” she asked. Normally, the question would’ve been laced with skepticism and venom, but at this point she was beyond it. Dealing with Phantom and his… eccentricities was exhausting, and that was on top of the fact that her husband was nearly bedridden at the moment, her kids were nowhere to be found, and an all-powerful ghost was about to descend on her town.

Yeah, she couldn’t bother to be scathing.

And, though she’d never admit it, as the conversation dragged on, she was beginning to become accustomed to his expressiveness. It was a sort of expressiveness that was human in the most uncanny way, and she couldn’t help but fall for it, even if it was an act. She found herself unwillingly believing his claims more and more, and it was having an effect on how she was viewing him.

To her, right now, he seemed less like the sassy trickster she and Jack had pegged him as, and he seemed less like the valiant hero he tried to be for the town. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have thought he was simply a scared boy who’d bitten off more than he could chew. It was too easy to forget the sheer power that pulsed underneath his skin.

And scared he looked. He folded his arms and gripped his biceps, tucking his chin towards his chest. His face was drawn tight in an anxious frown.

“You want the truth?” he asked so quietly, she almost missed it.

“Obviously.”

A tiny shudder rippled across his body. “I don’t know.” His fingers dug deeper into his arms as he kept his gaze fixed below him. “I don’t know.”

Whatever words she’d been preparing to say were ripped straight from her mouth, leaving her stunned and uneasy. Never before had Phantom allowed himself to be so… vulnerable in front of someone. Or admit doubt in his own ability. For him to do so now was unnerving for a number of reasons.

Thoughts and theories whirled around her head in a violent cyclone. The implications this show of vulnerability had…

No. She couldn’t let herself be distracted by that, not right now. There was something a little more immediate that needed to be addressed. “So wait, you won’t let me use the suit because you think I won’t be able to hold out, but you think you can use it even though you don’t even know you can hold out?”

“I at least have a better chance than you,” he said indignantly. Some of the fire in his eyes reignited, but the fear that remained betrayed him.

“But you’re not planning on coming back, are you?” she accused. “You don’t think…”

The words didn’t need to be said. They both knew exactly what she was alluding to.

He sighed, then set his jaw and looked her square in the eye. “I’ll go to whatever lengths I have to if it means you’ll be protected.”

All she could do was shake her head in disbelief. “Why?”

A weak laugh bubbled past his lips. “Like I told you,” he said with a crooked, feeble grin, “it’s one of the things I admire most about you.”

The two of them stood there (or floated, in Phantom’s case) for what seemed like an eternity, especially when the threat of the king loomed over their heads. She didn’t even want to try to tackle the subject of him holding her as a role model; with a brain that felt like it was full of static, she didn’t trust herself to try, either. As it was, she could barely process this situation.

Phantom. Clearly scared out of his mind. Ready to fight for the town to the point of fading. If she hadn’t been here experiencing it for herself, she’d never have believed it.

The fact that he hadn’t simply taken off yet baffled her further. There was only so much she could do to prevent him from leaving; they both knew that. So why not just take the Ecto-Skeleton and go?

He was waiting for something from her. Something physical, or the answer to some sort of question he hadn’t voiced out loud. It had to be the reason.

She suspected she knew what he was waiting for her to tell him.

“No,” she finally said, her voice hoarse. “I can’t let you.”

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Danny’s heart dropped as his mom spoke those words.

She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. What was she thinking? Wasn’t she supposed to hate him? Phantom, anyway? Shouldn’t she be perfectly fine with the idea of him meeting an early end to his afterlife?

At least more fine with the idea than he was?

“M-Maddie,” he said, stumbling over her name for the umpteenth time. Normally, he was so careful to make sure to call people by the names that the proper Danny would know. For Danny Fenton, his parents were Mom and Dad, but to Danny Phantom, they were Maddie and Jack. Something about this conversation, though, just kept leading him to slip ups.

Maybe it was the fact that he was talking about going off and offering himself up like a lamb to a slaughter in front of his mother of all people?

He shook his head. “I know you don’t trust me, but I won’t let you stop me.” 

Would she have to push hard to keep him from going, though? 

He’d been hoping to snag the Ecto-Skeleton and fly out of there before he had a chance to really think about what he was doing, but now, thanks to this conversation, he was starting to lose the same resolve he’d found up in his room. Most of what he was showing to Mom was a false mask of confidence at this point.

Speaking of Mom, she hadn’t reacted to his pushback yet. She was preoccupied with staring at a faint smudge of oil on the shiny metal of the suit. Without her hood, he could pick out the rampant emotion in her eyes that had been present this whole time, ever since she put the gun away. What she was thinking about, though, he had no idea. He didn’t have the same talent for reading people that Jazz did.

“It’s not a matter of trust,” she said eventually. She clenched her hand into a tight fist and averted her gaze even further. “It’s… you have to realize, I… I can’t…”

He felt his face soften in sympathy. “You can’t let someone else take the fall for you,” he finished for her. “I get it.”

She apparently hadn’t been expecting him to say that. Her eyes jerked up to meet his, and behind them, he could practically see the gears in her head churning faster and faster as she tried to make sense of it. 

He didn’t blame her. He wasn’t even sure what he was saying anymore, he’d said so many things he would’ve never admitted in a million years at this point. Like telling her he admired her heroism? What was he thinking? After so many months of carefully guarding his secret, what on earth had possessed him to be so careless with this stuff?

Despite his own anxiety, he tried not to shy away from her intense gaze, as difficult as it was. Like worse than when Jazz was getting ready to serve him with a lecture.

The bottoms of her eyes scrunched up in absolute befuddlement. “Who even are you, Phantom?” she finally whispered.

His expression of sympathy relaxed even further into a frown weighed down by nearly a year of sleepless nights, sacrificed grades and relationships, and scrapes and bruises from being thrown into streets and buildings. “Just someone who wants to help.”

Mom narrowed her eyes further. He was really beginning to hate how he could not figure out for the life of him what was going on in her head. Frankly, he was still half-convinced she would pull out her gun again, shoot him, and take the suit anyway. Had telling her she wouldn’t change a thing against Pariah Dark been the right way to go? Would it just make her even more stubborn?

At least he knew what side of the family he got his stubbornness from. 

It was also getting harder to resist the temptation to just grab the suit and run. After all, she really couldn’t do much in the way of stopping him, what with a handy thing called intangibility, and, with his courage waning by the minute, the idea seemed more and more plausible. Not to mention that as each second ticked by, the Ghost King grew closer to launching his final attack. 

Time was running out.

Just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to take any more, Mom abruptly drew her fist away from the suit and stepped back. Her eyes were closed tight. “Go.”

He had to do a double take, he could hardly believe his ears. “Are you-”

“Just go, Phantom!” The tension in her jaw was visible and obvious. Even still, quieter than before, she added, “Before I change my mind.”

A single tear slipped from the corner of her shut eye, and Danny’s heart shattered.

This… this was all wrong. How could he do this to her? Ask her to allow her own son to go up and face almost-certain death? When she didn’t even know it was her son she was talking to? And then the fact that if he really didn’t return, she’d never know the truth…

In one shallow, shaky breath, he made another decision.

Carefully, he floated toward her and laid a gentle hand on her arm. “Thank you,” he said, pouring as much warmth, sincerity, and gravity into the two words as he could.

She cracked open her eyes to look at him, and then, before he lost the guts to do so and before she could stop him, he said, “You… you asked me who I am.”

This time, Mom opened her eyes fully and regarded him with confusion. Clearly, she’d been expecting him to bolt the minute she gave her permission. “Look, I already-”

“If I don’t - if something happens to me…” he interrupted, cursing the waver in his voice. The fluttering in his stomach was quickly becoming unbearable. “... you’ll find the answer in… in your son’s room, taped to the back of his bed.”

That definitely elicited a response from her. “What does - how…?” She couldn’t find the right question to ask as the emotion in her eyes suddenly turned to panic. Well, that was reasonable at least. He’d just confirmed some involvement of Danny Fenton.

He smiled weakly, apologetic and sheepish. “He’s fine, I promise. Just… yeah. Consider it… a failsafe.” One that he’d prepared months ago, after the incident with Freakshow. Nothing more than a letter explaining the truth. He’d hoped he’d never have to resort to using it, that he’d be able to tell Mom and Dad in person, but…

Her brow knitted together. It was agony, not being able to know what she was thinking. He could only hope she wasn’t about to turn on him for getting too close to her son.

“Well,” she said after what felt like an eternity. “Don’t make me need to use it.”

Without another word, she turned and walked towards the staircase. When she paused on the fourth or fifth step, he could only float there as she looked over her shoulder at him, one last time, her eyes wet and bloodshot.

The corners of her lips turned upward. “Give him hell, Phantom,” she said. And then she was gone, leaving Danny alone in the basement.

He watched where she disappeared up the stairs for a long moment. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it occurred to him that in terms of last words to hear from his mother, those were definitely not the ones he would’ve expected to hear. 

He could live with that.

Huffing a short breath, he shook his head to clear it. He needed to focus. No more worrying about Mom and what she thought of him, or if she’d go and find the letter anyway, or why she even let him go in the end. No more dwelling on the fact that he was probably living the last minutes of his life.

It was go time.

He grabbed the Ecto-Skeleton by one of its arms and hoisted it into the air, phasing back up through the ceiling to meet back up with Sam and Tucker.

#danny phantom #dannymay #dannymay2023 #dannymay 2023 #danny fenton #maddie fenton #danny phantom maddie #danny phantom fanfic #hannah writes #reign storm #i love reign storm #but that scene where the adults just all slap each other a bit is kind of silly #this is how i'd want it to go down #long post

[daily-dose-of-danno]

AUGH I LOVE VALERIE AND DANNY UGHHH

d... do you have more screenshots of em? would greatly appreciate,, thank you in advance,,,

I KNOW WHO YOU ARE (and I appreciate the ask because now I have an excuse to go get more screenshots of them!!! 💚❤️)

Season 1, Episode 10 - Shades of Gray

Season 1, Episode 18 - Life Lessons

Season 2, Episode 4 - Reign Storm

Season 2, Episode 10 - Flirting With Disaster

Season 3, Episode 11 - D-Stabilized

#THEM #THEM FOREVER AND EVER #thank u mr.dick for the ask I love u buddy #danny phantom #danny fenton #valerie gray #red huntress #shades of gray #reign storm #d stabilized #life lessons #flirting with disaster #request #daily dose of danno #gray ghost

[slaughter-books]

Day 8: JOMPBPC: Worst Book In A Series You Liked

I didn't like the first two books in this series, but I ended up loving the third book and the rest of the series too! 💕

#justonemorepage #jompbpc #worst book in a series you liked #falling kingdoms #rebel spring #gathering darkness #frozen tides #crystal storm #immortal reign #morgan rhodes #beautiful books #beautiful covers #amazing author #i love books

[reanimatedgh0ul]

i think it'd be interesting if there was a fic premise that involved phantom going to valerie's apartment (bc he knows where she lives bc of life lessons) to apologize to her for exposing her identity to damon bc while danny did this to ultimately keep her out of harm's way it still wasn't right for him to do

meanwhile valerie isn't interested in what he has to say bc she's grounded from ghost hunting bc of him and to her it doesn't matter that town has now decided to go from hating him to loving him all of sudden bc he ultimately saved them but she's ultimately believes he's putting up a front

#also think it'd be interesting if part of the reason why valerie is bitter abt the town loving danny now #is bc he's basically getting all of the credit for saving them #when it's like she risking her neck for them just as much as he was #but she doesn't get sm as a thank you #which if she did bring this complaint up to danny #i think he would thank her for helping him #i mention that last part of valerie putting up a front #bc i do think atp in their relationship valerie's feelings towards have started to become more complicated than she's letting on #her hatred of him is somewhat performative #she doesn't want to sit w the fact that maybe he's not such a bad guy #maybe she was wrong abt him #he didn't have to go out of his way to apologize to her and yet he did #the fact he wanted her to fight by his side during reign storm even though she didn't trust him but he completely trusted her #like that says smth #danny phantom #robi hcs #robi rambles

[ralith]

I just learned of a storm-chasing team that operated out of a modified ambulance (black pick-up with an ambulance shell over the bed).

They specialize now in storm clean-up/rescue.

Seeing things like that fuels my storm-chaser Ratchet headcanon.

#ironhidd following grudgingly behind bc Ratch can get a little too eager #and he needs to reign his mate in #goddamn do i love meteorology and storm chasing

[notyetfixed-a]

@seeliecourt asked | ✿

i'm giving you all three cause i can <3

essek x molly: (listen this was difficult because we have fleshed them out so well already i was trying to decide on what to do lol!)

molly is the house husband. for sure. they would totally cook and clean and do all the things for essek just to make sure that when he comes home after work, all he has to do is relax and do whatever work he didn't get done outside of the home.

there are weekly check-ins between them. these are times where they talk about what has bothered them in the week; if someone did something the other didn't like, they talk it through so it doesn't fester and blow up and leave them fighting in the end. tt is a time for communication and understanding and strengthening their relationship. It always ends with lots of kisses and cuddles and making sure they both feel safe and heard and understood <3

dorian x dariax:

dorian is ABSOLUTELY the one to yell at someone for putting pickles on dariax' burger when he specifically didn't ask for them. He's not afraid of being a karen for the sake of his boyfriend.

dariax is the only one who can tell when dorian is having a bad day. It might be a single hair out of place, but to dariax, he knows that means dorian is upset. what may look like a bad hair day to everyone else is the fuse about to blow on his love. dorian can always tell when dariax is having a bad day because, well, the man isn't very good at hiding his emotions. dorian is learning to be more like dariax, but it's hard. he has that second son syndrome.

essek & yasha

yasha and essek are definitely the ones who stare at each other from across the room like 'omg let me just punch this fucker in the face please' when there's something going on that they don't want to be a part of.

over stimulation buddies. when they're so sick and tired of being somewhere and they want to feel validated that what they're going through is bull shit/too much happening/could've been said in an email/message, they give each other the ( e - 0 ) look. if it is reciprocated, they get the fuck out of there.

#( such tomfoolery | ooc ) #head canons #long may he reign | mollymauk tealeaf #( when the sun loves the moon | essek x molly ) #( can i be close to you | dorian x dariax ) #may fairer winds find you | dorian storm

[sansaorgana]

— FORBIDDEN FRUIT

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Baron Vladimir Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — After your planet was conquered by The Harkonnens, you are sent to Giedi Prime as a war prize to marry one of The Baron's nephews. However, Baron Vladimir changes his plans at the sight of you and decides to take you as his wife. Feyd-Rautha does not give up easily, though.

REQUEST — (1) // (2)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It's finally here! I got carried away, not gonna lie... Look at the word count! 🙈 I might have forgotten about some warnings, just keep in mind the fic is dark and twisted 😝 By creating the Reader's homeworld and its customs I was loosely inspired by the mediterranean and islamic cultures but of course her physical appearance is not being described. 🤍

WARNINGS — arranged/forced marriage, blood, death, Baron Harkonnen being an absolute and non-consensual creep, Feyd-Rautha being non-consensual as well in the beginning, SMUT, fingering, oral, breeding (artificial and natural), incest undertones (they're not related but he calls her Aunt and she calls him nephew) + Feyd's traumatic past briefly mentioned, Reader is a few years older than Feyd but he is aged up to 20

WORD COUNT — 13,560 (🤡)

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Your homeworld used to be a Paradise. The sky was always blue, the weather warm but not too hot due to the light breeze coming from the Ocean. Cypress trees, pistachio nuts, olive branches and fish were what Pairi Daêza was famous for in the past centuries. It was a small planet that remained unnoticed and neutral in most of the conflicts. The Imperial Family loved to spend their holidays on Pairi Daêza and import their goods in a form of a tribute.

That was history. And although you were born on this beautiful planet, in your teenage years the whole world crumbled down and you were exposed to the true reality of the war. When one of the Imperial geologists had found a huge spice deposit under your planet’s Ocean, the destructive war began.

Your parents tried their best to avoid the conflict. They offered the Emperor to dry a huge part of the Ocean to harvest spice from there. In fact, your father the Sultan saw an opportunity of getting wealth and influence in this situation. And that probably was his downfall. The Emperor wanted all the spice for himself.

But The Emperor was not the one to get his hands dirty. No, he hired the most fearsome warriors and assassins to teach your planet a lesson. The Harkonnens.

While the battles were taking place on the ground, their special machinery was drying out the Ocean and harvesting the spice hidden underneath the water surface. The whole planet began to die off due to the lack of water. The crops were evaporating in the heat, people were starving and their homes destroyed. The Harkonnens were kidnapping your citizens to be their slaves and your father and his army were too weak to protect them. The subjects of the Sultan started a rebellion with the help of The Harkonnens and after long years of the ongoing and destructive war, it was the final blow for your father’s weak reign.

You were an adult woman now, standing proudly with a veil covering nearly your whole face with only eyes being on display like all unmarried women of Pairi Daêza traditionally wore. Surrounded from all sides by The Harkonnen army in your father’s throne room, holding your mother’s hand. The dignified and beautiful Sultana with the last piece of jewellery she had refused to give away – a majestic headpiece made of gold and sparkling gemstones of all the possible colours. They reflected the dim light creeping inside through the windows of the ruined Pairi Daêza Palace where you had been born and resided for your whole life. And where you would die with only a few the most loyal guards protecting you.

The front doors opened loudly and a huge, beastly looking Harkonnen man stormed inside with a few of his identical soldiers. You had heard of him, he was the terror of Pairi Daêza in the past few years. The Beast Rabban himself. He dealt with your guards completely on his own, feasting on their deaths with a psychotic smirk. You swallowed thickly at the size of his hands; so big and strong they could break you in half. You hoped for a swift and quick death – as a Shehzadi of Pairi Daêza you had your privileges and you counted that the mercy of Beast Rabban would be one of them.

He started to approach you confidently, his black armour stained with the blood of your guards, contrasting with his sickly pale skin. Your father stepped out to cover you and your mother with his own body as if it would stop the Beast. Rabban froze at the sight and let out a contemptuous laughter that echoed through the throne room.

“Your reign is over, Sultan (Y/L/N),” he announced. “Pairi Daêza and its spice is under The Harkonnen rule.”

“Pairi Daêza no longer exists. You have destroyed my world and you want to rule over the ruins,” your father drawled through the gritted teeth.

“We do not care about your world. We care about the spice. But you… You will be remembered as the Sultan whose reign was the last. The death of your world will forever be attached to your name,” Rabban pointed out and reached for his blade. “Come to me and fight like a man, I shall give you the privilege of defending yourself. Do not cling to the skirts of your wife and daughter. By doing so, you put them in the path of my blade.”

“Don’t hurt them,” your father approached him, despite your hands trying to stop him. “The planet and the spice are yours. You can kill me but spare my family,” he pleaded.

“Your wife will be given to the new Governor of Pairi Daêza and he will do as he pleases with her. Your daughter is our prize I will take with me to Giedi Prime,” Rabban laid his terrifying eyes on you and you froze out of fear. You’d rather die than be taken away to The Harkonnens. He could only see your eyes but it was enough for him to smirk and lick his lips in a disgusting manner.

This scenario was worse than the death you had been expecting.

“You will die,” he told your father and pointed at one of the deceased guards for your father to take his sword and be able to defend himself in a fair fight.

But you knew already it would be a slaughter you did not wish to see.

“Don’t kill him! Don’t kill my father!” You screamed and took a step ahead. Your mother sobbed behind your back.

“(Y/N), don’t…” your father shook his head.

“I will offer myself to you willingly if you spare his life and let him govern this planet in The Harkonnen name. He will obey your orders and so will I,” you promised.

It was common for parents to sacrifice themselves for their children. No one would ever question such an act. Why couldn’t it go both ways? You loved your parents just as much as they loved you. Especially in the last years of the war, you had grown very close having basically no one else by your side.

If you were all to die together, it was not a bad ending. But if they tried to kill your father, send you away and give your mother away to a stranger… you could not let that happen.

“What makes you think we care about women giving themselves to us willingly, Shehzadi?” Rabban snorted at you but he approached you slowly with his blade held up. “You’re confident to offer so little for wanting so much in return,” the tip of his blade lifting up the hem of your face veil as you trembled out of fear.

“There is no need for bloodshed. My father will bend his knee and I will go with you, my Lord,” you choked out, trying to hide your obvious fear.

Rabban tilted his head and laughed at you. Then, in one swift move he cut the veil open and you gasped as the fabric fell down on the floor, leaving you exposed in front of him and his Harkonnen soldiers. It was one of the greatest humiliations for the Pairi Daêza woman for her to reveal her face in front of a man outside her close family before her wedding. It was her husband who was supposed to lift the veil off of her face on their wedding day and see her first before every other man would. To take the veil off of an unmarried woman in an aggressive manner like this was the greatest disrespect that back in the day men had been punished for by the law.

Embarrassed and humbled down, you stood still, trying to stare back at the Beast Rabban with your shoulders straight and your lips pursed out of anger and determination.

“You are not mine for the taking. I am to take you to Giedi Prime and my uncle shall decide what to do with you. Most likely he will want you to be my younger brother’s bride because it is him who will inherit the title one day,” he told you and you felt a knot forming in your stomach.

You hated Rabban but he was the devil you knew from the stories and now personally as well. His brother was a new character in the story that you feared. What was he like? 

“Why is that not you?” You asked him. “You have just conquered a planet for your uncle, have you not, my Lord?”

“It is not I who argues with my uncle’s decisions,” Rabban snapped at you but you saw in his cruel eyes that you had touched a sensitive subject with your question. “Will you bend your knee, Sultan (Y/L/N)?” He asked your father.

He was staring at you with a terrified expression on his face. He couldn’t believe what you had just done. But you knew he wouldn’t throw a fist now. He would bend his knee because your father was a weak man.

Deep down, despite your love for him, you hated him for his weakness. Most of your problems, most of the failures in this war were caused by this trait of his. You couldn’t blame him, though. The Sultans of Pairi Daêza had never been trained to fight or lead military campaigns. There had been no need for that in the past.

“I, Sultan (Y/F/N) of The House (Y/L/N), pledge my allegiance to The House Harkonnen,” your father kneeled and bowed his head down.

You watched Rabban closely. He could accept this offer but he could also simply behead your father.

“In the name of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, may your service be accepted, Sultan (Y/L/N),” he nodded his head. “We didn’t know who to make the Governor of this wasteland anyway,” he snorted. “I guess this is solved. However, you will be watched carefully,” he squinted his eyes at your father. “I will leave my guards here and you will be spied on every second of your pathetic life, Sultan.”

“Yes, my Lord,” your father nodded. “What about the rebellion you helped to start? The citizens of Pairi Daêza do not wish me to stay in this Palace anymore.”

“You have my army to command now. You can slay them,” Rabban shrugged his arms and your father stood up clumsily.

“You helped them to start the rebellion against me and now you’re giving me your army to slay the rebels?” He asked to make sure.

“All we care about is your spice,” Rabban’s voice sounded casual and then he turned around to look at you again. “And your daughter,” he added with a smirk before approaching you and grabbing you by your arm roughly. You squealed as he started to walk you out of the room.

“Let me go!” You protested.

“You’re already breaking our arrangement, woman. You promised to be obedient,” he barked at you.

“I want to say goodbye to my parents,” you told him.

“It’s not the last time you’re seeing them. That is, if they play nice and don’t start anything,” he threatened as he looked at your scared parents.

Your mother risked it, though, and she ran up to you. Her shaking hands grabbed yours as she sobbed. She couldn’t say much because of her state but she didn’t have to.

“I will be fine, mama. I will survive and you have to as well, do you hear me? Otherwise my sacrifice won’t matter,” you told her and she nodded her head, silently choking on her sobs.

“That’s enough,” Rabban threw you over his shoulder swiftly like you were a sack of potatoes and he took you out of the Palace – straight to the huge Harkonnen ship that was destined to go back on Giedi Prime.

You were a war prize.

You didn’t know much about Giedi Prime except for scary legends and myths. The heavy industrial landscape was something you had not been used to nor was their black sun that was making everything on the planet black-and-white when you were spending time outside. Not that you had spent lots of time there. You were transported from the ship to the huge black fortress and into the chambers with a few female servants waiting for you. They bathed you carefully and put you in long black robes with a veil mimicking the ones that were traditional for the Pairi Daêza unmarried women. Only your eyes were visible when you looked at yourself in the mirror, but barely – the veil was decorated with dangling silver chains. They were making you look even more mysterious and kind of dangerous but the whole outfit felt like a mockery of the traditional robes of your people.

The unmarried women of Pairi Daêza were hiding their faces but their dresses were often made of a few layers of sheer and colourful materials. Just because they were under a cover, didn’t mean they were not cheerful and full of life. The dresses would be often decorated with lace, flowers or embroidery. They were flowy and ethereal when the women walked down the streets and all the married women who no longer had to hide their faces were envious as they remembered their younger days. On Giedi Prime you looked as if you were in a deep state of mourning. But perhaps you were. Your planet was destroyed, your family humiliated. And no one knew what would happen to you.

You were taken by the guards and followed by the servants to a huge throne room of The Baron Harkonnen. You had heard of him from your father so you expected the worst but his unnaturally huge and floating form still made the blood in your veins run cold. He was enormous and repulsing; sickly. Kept alive by the machinery behind him and the undying will to rule forever.

He was accompanied by Rabban who smirked at you when you walked inside. There was another man standing there, too. He was young; strong and muscular but also slim. Tall and proud in the way he stood. His face was full of cruelty and mockery but you had to admit he was rather attractive… at least for a Harkonnen male. His lips were full, his eyes reminded you of a snake but they were decorated with a long set of eyelashes. You hoped he was the younger brother that Beast Rabban had mentioned before.

You stood in front of the stairs leading to The Baron’s throne and you bowed down, waiting for his reaction.

“Shehzadi (Y/L/N),” he greeted you in a harsh, deep voice that sent shivers down your spine. “Finally I get to see you… Or not,” he added and you raised your head to lay your eyes on him. He was observing you carefully and so was the young man. “Take her veil off, Rabban, show me what you’ve brought here,” he snapped at his nephew and the Beast approached you. “She better be pretty enough for Feyd-Rautha if you decided to spare her father’s life for her,” The Baron teased him. 

“Who would have thought that women were your weakness,” the man named Feyd hissed at his brother and you got startled by the sound of his voice. It was identical to The Baron’s in a twisted and uncomfortable way that formed a knot in your stomach.

You felt oddly bad for the Beast Rabban. He was the one to conquer your planet and he was the one to take you. Yet, you were a prize that he had won not for himself but for his spoiled younger brother. You couldn’t quite understand the dynamic of this family yet.

He stood next to you and grabbed the fabric of your veil in his fist in his usual brutal manner. By the pace of his breath, you could hear that he was as nervous as you were. If The Baron would not like you, he would be punished for going soft on your father.

Rabban’s hand hesitated before tearing the veil off of your face. It caught his younger brother’s attention. He hissed and walked up to you with a short knife in his hands that he had been playing with as if out of boredom. He smirked at you and revealed black teeth that made you flinch at the sight. Your reaction only excited him.

“How long do I have to wait, brother?” He asked as he cut the veil open, impatiently. Rabban took a step back and allowed his brother to take a better look at you. The Baron tried to peek in but Feyd was standing right in front of you and covering your face completely from his uncle’s sight.

The young man hummed to himself and tilted his head both sides. He raised his hand up and grabbed your chin to squeeze it gently.

“How old is she?” He asked his brother as if you could not speak.

“Shehzadi (Y/N) is twenty years old like you are,” Rabban tried to recommend your virtues the best he could, like he was a slave seller.

“Five and twenty,” you corrected him confidently, not feeling any shame about your age. Rabban took a sharp breath in as Feyd gave him a scolding look.

“A bit old, isn’t it?” The Baron’s voice interrupted them.

Feyd looked you up and down with so much fire in his eyes that you started to feel your cheeks heating up. You had never been looked at this way not only because of the custom of covering your face but also because it was not a way that men on Pairi Daêza would court women in.

“I’ll take her,” Feyd shrugged his arms as he announced to his uncle. He turned around to look at him and you sighed out of relief. So did Rabban.

“Move aside, Feyd,” The Baron barked at his nephew, impatiently. “It is I who decide,” he added and Feyd took a step to the left, revealing your form to his uncle. You had both of the brothers standing on both sides and their hideous uncle looming over a few steps ahead of you.

In complete silence he was watching you for a long while, puffing on his pipe. Finally, he beckoned you over to come closer. You gathered the fabric of your skirt in your hands and took a few steps ahead with your heart pounding in your chest.

“I shall take her,” he stated as the whole room went dead silent.

“What are you talking about?!” Feyd protested and you chewed on the insides of your cheeks, trying not to burst into tears. “She is mine for the taking!”

The Baron was a disgusting creature but you were aware that being his wife would give you more power and influence than marrying any of his nephews. It would protect your family better, too.

And every power came with a sacrifice.

Still, your dignity wanted to join Feyd-Rautha’s tantrum. You had been expecting to be given in marriage to a young and healthy warrior. Not an old and sickly piece of greasy meat in front of you.

“Shut up, boy!” The Baron yelled at Feyd and you flinched. “Don’t startle, my Shehzadi,” he cooed to you in a malicious whisper. “As you can see, none of my nephews are worthy of you nor my throne one day. You shall give me an heir,” he told you and you nodded, obediently. Fighting him had no purpose.

Feyd was furious. You heard him walking out of the room angrily and slamming the door behind him.

“You have just made an enemy, my Shehzadi,” The Baron reached his swollen pale hand with the green and blue veins popping out. You gently took it and nearly gagged at the feeling of it.

“Me, my Lord?” You tried to bat your eyelashes at him. Your voice shivered out of fear and he smirked at you.

“Feyd-Rautha will no longer be the Na-Baron when our son is born. He will do everything to get rid of you and the child. You shall be careful, sweet Shehzadi,” he warned you. “I have my ways of keeping him obedient. When he’s not showing you proper respect, you will tell me, yes?”

“Y-yes, my Lord,” you nodded.

“Good,” he squeezed our hand gently and you felt your stomach turning. “Go, prepare for the wedding,” he let go of you and raised his finger to touch your cheek. It was getting difficult to hide your repulsion but on the other hand it was oddly satisfying to know that you were chosen by The Baron himself.

You bowed down and walked out of the room with the guards and servants. They all were staring at you with widened eyes, as shocked with the outcome of this day as you were.

You hadn’t seen The Baron for the past few weeks of the preparations for the wedding. In fact, you hadn't seen anyone. You had been kept a prisoner in one part of the fortress but you did not mind that at all because you had lots of servants and your chambers did not lack any luxury. The only thing you missed was nature – the greenery, the sound of birds, the feeling of the sun on your skin, the light breeze of the Ocean. But there was no way of coming back to it. Pairi Daêza had none of it anymore.

Spoiled as a child, you were harshened in your teenage years by the war taking place in your homeland. Despite your father’s weakness flowing in your blood, you had learnt how to adapt and survive. You would survive just well on Giedi Prime, you decided.

The only thing you dreaded about your marriage was the physical aspect of the union. However, you had been informed by the medic visiting you every morning about the nature of your future duties.

“These injections are supposed to prepare your body for carrying a son,” he told you after sticking a syringe with an odd liquid into your vein. “After the wedding you will be bred to carry The Baron’s heir, my Lady.”

“Bred?” You swallowed thickly.

“I will insert the seed during a swift and painless procedure, my Lady,” he assured you.

“So… I will not be…” You didn’t know how to say it without offending The Baron.

The medic knew, though. He looked up into your eyes as your face was covered with the black veil. The Baron had liked your homeworld’s tradition and allowed you to cover your face until the wedding.

“The Baron’s health does not allow such activities,” he informed you and you sighed out of relief. “Which does not mean he will not demand some… other duties.”

You nodded your head at him. Some other duties, whatever they meant, you could survive. It was the haunting image of him hovering over you or taking you from behind that was keeping you sleepless recently. You had come to Giedi Prime completely innocent in that subject but you made your Harkonnen servants tell you all about it. They were experienced, especially the ones who had been called late at night to Feyd-Rautha’s chambers. The young na-baron apparently liked sex a lot. The more you were finding out about him and his nature, the more glad you were that it was his uncle you were marrying. At least he was not so young; not so full of adrenaline and testosterone as his nephew.

Giedi Prime had not had a Baroness in a long time. The ceremony was about to be the grandest you had ever experienced. The leaders of the great houses had been invited – your parents amongst them. Even The Emperor himself had sent an envoy to take part in the event in his name. You had never expected to hold such importance in the Galaxy. After all, you were only a Shehzadi of a small and unimportant Pairi Daêza. The spice deposit had truly changed everything.

Your servant women worked on your huge wedding dress. It was black, too, of course. Everything was black. But there was some meaning behind it, in fact, since the wedding was an occasion to mourn your maidenhood and your previous life. The veil covering your face was decorated and attached to the upper part of your bodice, so when your face would be revealed and the veil taken off, your dress would stop being so modest and show off your breasts squeezed by a corset. You didn’t feel comfortable with that idea. Women on Pairi Daêza were not known for revealing their physical virtues in such a way. But Harkonnen women were their husbands’ prizes and trophies. You wanted to make The Baron proud because it would keep him happy. And keeping him happy meant the safety of you and your family. You didn’t want to play many games. You just wanted to survive.

You actually wanted to give him a son. Because giving him a son would seal your fate as The Baroness. Your position would be untouchable and that awful Feyd-Rautha could throw tantrums about it but it would be your son who would inherit the title of The Baron.

You were allowed to see your parents before the ceremony because they were supposed to leave early in the morning on the next day and in the evening there would be no occasion to be left alone with them like you were now. Alone in a room with your mother and father whose faces looked worried and exhausted. Their clothes were different than you remembered. Less colourful as if they were grieving, too.

“Are you alright?” Your mother asked you. She approached you and tried to lift the veil off but it refused to move.

“It is attached to the dress. I am fine,” you assured her. “Do not worry, my face is not bruised. You will see when he takes it off,” you nodded.

“It is an honour for you to marry The Baron himself,” your father smiled at you gently. “A great honour that he has liked you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” your mother scolded him. “It is awful, awful news. You know what he’s like. He’s destroyed our planet!”

“She can handle that for all the power she’s going to have now,” he shrugged his arms.

“How easy it is to say for a man,” your mother sighed. “You owe her your life.”

“I do and I am grateful,” your father nodded his head at you.

“And yet you demand more,” you whispered to him. He froze. “You demand of me to keep The Baron happy so he doesn’t get rid of you. But that is your part of the deal. You shall obey him and play nice as you promised. As long as you do that, there is no threat and my protection is not required.”

“If you think this way, why are you here, all dressed up to get married?” He raised his eyebrow.

“For mother,” you held her hands gently, “because you will not be able to protect her like me,” you added sternly.

Your father looked away, frustrated. He wanted to snap at you but he could not. Not when you were The Baron’s bride. You were no longer his daughter but almost another man’s wife. And the man was too powerful to disrespect.

The ownership of women. Once your father’s, then your husband’s. Freedom would come only in the case of a man’s death. And yet, men wondered why so many women were so angry and bloodthirsty.

“Time’s up,” one of the guards entered the room harshly. “Shehzadi (Y/N) is asked to attend the ceremony,” he announced and nodded at you. You nodded back and squeezed your mother’s hands for the last time before following the guard into the dark and cold corridor of the fortress, trying to keep your veiled head high.

Out of the people gathered for the ceremony, one pair of eyes was locked on you the most intensely. The dark eyes of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen were observing your every move, every gesture, every breath and every word. You felt suffocated by his gaze. It was full of fire like the first time he had seen you but also full of hatred and contempt. You couldn’t tell if he wanted to claim you or kill you. Perhaps both answers were true. You wouldn’t be surprised after hearing all the stories about him.

You feared him the most out of all The Harkonnens. Beast Rabban was the devil you knew and you were his weakness because you were the prize he had conquered himself. The Baron was terrifying and dangerous but he was rather calm and he treated you like a pet so as long as you were quiet and obedient, he did not take pleasure in tormenting you. Feyd-Rautha was different. He was psychotic and your wedding to his uncle was making him lose the greatest deal – his inheritance.

The worst part of the wedding ceremony was the kiss. Not that The Baron had been particularly passionate about it but something about his lips touching yours – even though briefly – was making your insides twist. Perhaps being married to him wouldn’t be as easy to survive as you had been hoping.

When The Wedding Games had begun, Feyd-Rautha joined them eagerly with all the fierceness a warrior could possess. It was an old and dreadful tradition full of blood and violence, a display of power and murderous Harkonnen nature. The men, usually gladiators, were fighting for life and death. Only one could remain and become the winner who would be forever remembered. When his nephew joined the fight, your new husband didn’t look very pleased and he followed every movement of his boy carefully, keeping his eye on the guard, too. He was scared of losing his heir after all.

You watched Feyd-Rautha fight as well. His moves were swift and confident. It was bringing him joy to both hurt and be hurt. He was playful in combat – smirking, winking, occasionally looking back to make sure you were watching. And whenever he was the one to take the blow, he would let out a laugh and hiss in pleasure. He was an odd, scary creature because he had no fear of any sort of pain. Not even death most likely.

Eventually, he killed the last opponent right in front of your eyes, wanting for you to flinch, you suspected. You did not give him such satisfaction. All the years of the war on your planet had made you immune to the sight of such violence and death.

He let out a triumphant yell and raised the bloody knife before bowing down and reaching his hands out with the blade towards you. You stood up and accepted his offering as you had been taught by your servants the past few weeks during your preparations.

“Thy display of power and bravery has been noticed, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you told him the words you had learnt by heart.

“For my Baroness I will shed the blood of my enemies,” he looked up intensely at you and you swallowed thickly. You hated when he was staring like this. You only nodded and turned around to hand the bloody blade to one of the guards who would secure it. The blade would later be on display in the Memory Room.

You sat back down and forced a small meal upon yourself. In the meantime, your husband had already left the party. Not that you minded.

Feyd and Rabban were sitting nearby. Both were staring at you but the older one actually looked as if he was sorry for you. He hadn’t spoken a word to you ever since his uncle had decided to be the one to marry you. It was nearly funny how back on Pairi Daêza everyone feared the Beast Rabban but here on Giedi Prime he was the least important pawn of the game.

Around midnight, one of The Baron’s servants leaned in to whisper into your ear to inform you that your husband had been waiting for you in his chambers. You swallowed thickly and nodded your head before standing up and leaving the dining room as fast as possible.

In the dark corridor you slowed down, though, not wanting to walk too fast and approach the dreaded room too soon. The guards were not following you but you knew the way, you had been taught it by your servants even though your chambers were in a different part of the fortress. Now, as The Baroness, you would get the new ones – even more splendid and luxurious. But you had been told you would not share them with your husband which was a great comfort.

Halfway there you heard footsteps behind you and you angered. Whatever humiliation was there to come, you did not want any witnesses. The corridor was dark and empty and yet some guard decided to follow you. You turned around furiously, ready to scold him. But it was no guard. It was Feyd-Rautha.

He leaned on the wall with a smirk and squinted his eyes at you.

“What do you want?” You asked him and clenched your jaw.

“Like a sheep for slaughter,” he snorted at you.

“That is none of your business, I believe,” you straightened yourself and raised your chin up.

He didn’t like your remark as he moved away from the wall and approached you quickly. In no time you felt his face looming over yours, mere inches away.

“I know what he’s going to do to you,” he whispered as you tried to remain cool but his words made you terrified. There was an odd sparkle in his eye, like he was enjoying your torment. He probably was.

“Fuck me?” You tried to pretend it didn’t bother you.

“Well, well, well, look at how dirty your mouth can be, Shehzadi,” Feyd-Rautha grabbed your cheeks to squeeze them and your eyes widened at his insolence.

“To you, I’m The Baroness,” you mumbled out.

“Sure you are, little snake. How else should I call you? An aunt?” He teased. “I shall,” he added. “No, he’s not going to fuck you. But he’s going to touch you and this reeking, slimy feeling won’t ever leave your skin. You will feel him always,” he moved even closer to you. You wondered how he could know such things. Then you felt how hard he was underneath his leather pants. You were scared he would hurt you now, which would make your husband furious and toss you aside, surely. 

“Sounds like you’d like to watch,” you drawled, regretting it instantly. He took a sharp breath in and pushed you against the wall, still holding your cheeks but now you were trapped between his body and the cold marble.

“Don’t be disgusting,” he warned you. It was surprising there were things he was finding gross. He didn’t look like the type. “You’ve no idea what’s waiting for you, aunt,” he hissed.

“Aw, you’re worried?” You cooed and he let go of your cheeks angrily. He remained close to you, though. You felt his hot breath on your face. He smelled like blood and leather.

Feyd’s hands dropped to your waist. Before you could stop him, he was pulling up all the layers of your dress, desperately trying to get the access between your legs. You grabbed his wrists, trying to stop him quietly.

“No, no, no, please, no,” you whispered in a panic. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, aunt. He’s going to do it,” Feyd snorted at your words and froze when all the layers of your dress that had been on the way were finally moved aside. A cold shiver went down your legs at the feeling of your exposed thighs. Feyd cupped your womanhood covered with black silky underwear. You gasped at the feeling as your eyes widened when you looked at his face. His lips curled into a smirk as you shook your head.

“Relax, Baroness, I’ll ease you for him,” he told you as his fingers hooked on the edge of your underwear. You felt his cold fingertips brushing your pussy softly and a set of shivers went down your spine at that sensation.

You didn’t know how to feel about it. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you were getting dizzy. Your mind wanted him to stop but your body did not. Despite the lack of experience, you knew that The Baron would not make you feel the same way as his young nephew would.

“I won’t fuck you,” he let out a raspy whisper, “he would kill us both for that.”

“He wouldn’t know,” you told him and Feyd tilted his head at you. “I’ve been examined by the medic this morning to prove my innocence. I doubt he will examine me now again.”

“Believe me, he would know,” Feyd let out a laugh as he moved your underwear aside and exposed your womanhood. It was too dark for you to feel ashamed of it but it still felt incredibly wrong. Yet, you didn’t ask him to stop. Not that it would change anything.

He raised his hand up to his full lips and licked them while staring deep into your widened eyes. Then he put his hand between your legs again and began to touch you in your most intimate place. You sighed at the feeling of his wet and cold fingers trying to get between your folds.

“Open your legs further,” he ordered and your body obeyed by moving the legs more apart before your mind could take over and make a responsible decision to run away. Not that you could run away because with his free hand he grabbed one of your wrists and pinned it to the wall above your head.

Once he got a better access to your pussy, Feyd focused on massaging your sweet spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head, occasionally dipping his finger carefully inside of you to gather some of your wetness. You moaned softly and dug your fingernails into his bicep, feeling a close release. He was smirking at how fast he could make you reach your high but you didn’t care. You hated him but his fingers were skilled, making you stand on your toes as the muscles of your abdomen tensed, desperately wanting more friction.

“I’m gonna…” You gasped and that was when he took his hand away, fixed your underwear and took a step back, letting the folds of your dress fall down to their place. It took you a moment to collect yourself and realise that he had left you without a release but with a deep and urgent need. “What was that?” You asked.

“Now it won’t hurt when my uncle does the same to you, aunt. Maybe you’ll even cum with his fingers inside you as you remember my fingers on your cunt,” Feyd chuckled contemptuously and licked his fingers clean as you watched with terror in your eyes. “Sweet. Like I’ve imagined a cunt from Paradise to be,” he commented and turned around to walk back to the party, leaving you breathless and dizzy with an ache between your legs.

For a while you forgot where to go. You kept taking wrong turns before finally approaching the doors leading to The Baron’s chambers. At your state you weren’t even scared anymore. Feyd-Rautha had eased your mind indeed and reduced your body functions to one primal need.

You pushed the door open softly and entered your husband’s chambers. They were nearly empty and very cold. In the middle of it, there was a big bathtub full of a black substance. He was bathing in it and puffing on his pipe as he squinted his eyes at you.

“What took you so long, Baroness?” He asked and you cleared your throat, trying not to sound too shook up. The sight of him in that bathtub made your desire much lesser, though. Even the memory of Feyd-Rautha’s cold fingertips brushing your clit lightly and teasing you with pleasure could not make you feel the same excitement again.

“I’m sorry. I got lost,” you answered, which had been only half a lie.

“Don’t worry, Baroness, you will soon remember the way,” he wasn’t angry and he beckoned you over with a move of his wrist.

You approached him obediently although your limbs were getting numb. You were left completely alone with him and you had no idea what he would want now from you. As your husband he could demand anything and you’d have to follow.

“Undress yourself,” his voice was softer than when he would address his nephews but it was still an order as he watched carefully with squinted eyes.

You nodded shyly at his words and began to clumsily take your gown off. It was a complicated piece of fashion and you did not have any servants to assist you. However, your husband was not rushing you, he simply watched and he was visibly content.

When you were naked, you covered yourself with your hands as you stood in front of him. He looked up from his bathtub and puffed on his pipe with a smirk.

“No, no, don’t hide,” he shook his head. “Come, join me,” he invited you in and you swallowed thickly at the black slime he had been bathing in. You doubted it was harmful but you didn’t want to sit in the same substance as him. “Join me,” he repeated, more sternly this time and you bit on your lower lip as you nodded and entered the bathtub.

Your body was shaking but the odd liquid was nicely warm and relaxing. The feeling of it helped you ease a bit. You sat as far away as possible from him.

“Come closer, Baroness. You see, I’m old now and not of the best health. I sadly cannot perform my marital duties and satisfy you like a husband would,” he pretended to feel sorry for you. “But I want to play with you a little and admire my new wife,” he reached out his hand and you took a deep breath in before holding it and letting him pull you closer. “Do you know why I took you for myself?” He whispered and you shook your head. “Because he wanted you so much.”

When you left The Baron’s chambers, there were two scared female servants waiting already behind the doors. At the sight of you leaving in a hurry, they entered – most likely to finish what you had started. You hurried to the rooms that were supposed to be yours now. They were empty since your own servants would come in the morning.

You had been barely dressed because you wanted to leave his room as fast as possible. This time taking your dress off took you a few seconds and you jumped into the bathtub in the bathroom and filled it with warm water. With a sponge laying on the counter you started to scrub your body harshly, causing the skin to bleed in a few places. You wanted to get the black slime off of you and – most importantly – your husband’s touch.

Feyd had been right. What his uncle had done to you was not the worst – he had been touching and teasing, sniffing your scent and caressing your skin as he had whispered about the beauty of youth and innocence. But the fact that it had been him doing so, it made it the most disgusting thing you had ever experienced. You gagged at the very memory of it and now, after your wedding night, you no longer felt comfortable with the idea of being bred with his son even if it would be an artificial conception.

You started to sob uncontrollably. You hated The Harkonnens. They had destroyed your planet and your childhood. Now they destroyed your innocence and womanhood. You would never get free of them.

But death was not an option. It would be an easy way out. You had to be strong.

The medic’s procedure had truly been quick and painless but you felt disgusting leaving the medical wing of the fortress knowing that The Baron’s seed might be already growing in you. To make it worse, on your way back to your chambers, you spotted Feyd-Rautha coming back from the training yards. He smirked at the sight of you as you froze, still remembering the last night’s blasphemous act of intimacy that he had performed.

“Aunt,” he greeted you with a nod of his head.

“Nephew,” you answered in a similar manner as you looked him up and down.

Sweaty from the combat and still wielding a blade, he looked incredibly magnetic at that moment. His youthful and fearless energy was unfortunately drawing you in. The way he was staring at you made you remember how good his fingers had felt on your pussy and it brought the heat up to your cheeks. You wished he would stay away from you because his very presence was a torment.

“How was it?” He leaned in when he spoke to you, his eyes carefully watching your figure. You did not give him an answer. “Did you cum?”

“You’re an insolent brat, Feyd-Rautha,” you told him sternly and he straightened himself. You spoiled his fun by not being scared nor disgusted. “I want you to stay away from me since I might already be carrying your uncle’s true heir,” you added.

The playfulness of his eyes turned into anger very quickly. He pointed at your abdomen with his blade and you flinched. The guards standing a few steps behind you, hurried to your side immediately.

“You will soon realise, aunt,” Feyd drawled, “that he is your enemy – not me. He will destroy you like he destroys everything he ever lays his hands on.”

“Like he destroyed you?” You raised your eyebrow curiously and he lowered the blade. His jaw clenched but there was a shadow of hurt in his eyes at that moment, which surprised you. You didn’t expect a man like him to ever feel hurt.

Feyd-Rautha did not reply to that. He walked away without a word, followed by your guards’ eyes.

“Are you alright, my Lady?” One of them asked you and you nodded. “Shall we tell The Baron about the incident?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “His nephew’s antics must be tempered.”

Six months had passed since your wedding day and you still were not carrying The Baron’s heir. Your husband was growing impatient and the only thing stopping him from getting angry at you was the medic’s declaration that it had not been your fault but the seed’s quality was weak due to your husband’s age and condition. Even enhanced artificially with the Harkonnen science, it could not settle well in your womb. At this point you were so drugged with their injections to the point that you wouldn’t be surprised if a simple touch of any other man than your husband would put a son in you. How ironic.

You had no idea what The Baron had done to Feyd-Rautha but after the corridor’s incident the young man had been avoiding you. He had been watching you carefully from afar with eyes full of hatred like an ominous shadow following you behind wherever you would go. But he would not approach you nor talk to you unless he had to in an official situation. He would always address you with respect as The Baroness or Aunt. You had noticed that it brought him a twisted pleasure to call you by that name.

Your husband hadn’t been spending much more time with you either. He would be next to you during the official events and he would ask you to join him in his chambers about once or twice a week but other than that you had been spending your days alone with nobody but your female servants and male guards, occasionally with the medic. It was a lonely life but at least you weren’t exposed too much to the dreadful Harkonnens… except for the nights you were expected to perform some sort of marital duties.

No amount of time had made you used to The Baron’s touch. You would flinch every time he caressed your body or admired it while whispering the filthiest things. But after the first month your body had developed a defence mechanism of dissociation during those acts.

Technically speaking, though, after six months of being The Baroness Harkonnen, you remained a virgin. The marriage had not been consummated properly so The Baron could divorce you without consequences any day. Giving him a son was the only thing that would legitimise your union. And as much as you dreaded his spawn growing inside of you, you wanted to secure your position. The frustration of not getting pregnant had brought you to tears many times before.

It did now as well. An hour after finding out that the last week’s procedure had failed and the seed had not settled in your womb. The medic had been both sorry for you and himself because he had known that The Baron’s rage would mostly be aimed at him for not doing enough. Soon, though, you were sure, it would reach you as well.

Your chambers were being cleaned at the moment and you wanted to be alone so you wandered to a different part of the fortress and hid in one of the empty study rooms. You kicked your shoes off and sat on a black leather armchair by the wall as you sobbed into your hands, curling up with your feet up on the seat. You felt so small and unimportant at that moment; you missed home and you missed your mother’s embrace. You missed any sort of affection.

Focused on self-pity you did not hear the doors opening. You only startled at the sound of them closing loudly and you froze at the sight of Feyd-Rautha who had just entered the study room. At first, he stiffened seeing you as well.

“What are you doing here, aunt?” He asked, carefully.

“It is none of your business, go away,” you ordered, trying for your voice not to break and reveal your crying state.

“You cannot command that,” he snorted at you.

“I am your Baroness. I can and I will,” you sniffled your tears back and you hugged yourself tighter as if you wanted to protect yourself from him.

Feyd ignored your words, though. He approached you confidently and smirked after realising what you had been doing.

“Yes, feast on the sight of me crying,” you snapped. “What a pleasure it must be for you. Let me please you further, dear nephew. I am still not expecting an heir that would take your place. Happy now?” Your voice trembled.

“Look at you, you’re glowing,” he crouched down to be on your level as he whispered in an oddly seductive way. You furrowed your brows at his words and he reached his hand out to brush your cheek stained with tears. “They’ve injected so many hormones into you, Baroness, you’re practically begging to be fucked. You’ve no idea what the smell of you does to men around you…” He brought his finger to his mouth and licked the tip softly. “The taste… Even your tears are an aphrodisiac,” he looked up at you and you swallowed thickly. It was making you uncomfortable but for the first time in a long time you felt seen. “What a torment it must be. Do you touch yourself, aunt?” He asked and the insolent question snapped you back to reality.

“I’ve no idea how he punishes you but you’re asking to be punished again,” you warned him.

“I can show you how he punishes me,” Feyd did not wait for your answer as he took his black shirt off, revealing his pale and strong chest. His hard muscles were simply beautiful, you had to admit it. But when he turned around to show you his back, he revealed dozens of thin scars scattered all over. Some were white and bumpy, visibly old. But some were more fresh and still reddened. You hissed at the sight and he turned his head around to look at your face.

“I’m sorry, I did not know…” You admitted and reached your hand out to touch some of them gently. You let your finger follow the lines and he smirked.

“Don’t be sorry, aunt. I enjoy the whipping,” he grabbed your wrist and turned his body in your direction again.

“It is hard to believe, Feyd-Rautha,” you admitted. “I thought his punishment was based on threats.”

“His methods are more sophisticated,” Feyd sneered. “Now, I’ve revealed myself to you, Baroness. Will you reveal yourself to me?” He asked and you furrowed your brow. “Do you touch yourself?” He repeated the question that caused your cheeks to heat up.

“Sometimes,” you answered. “I start but I never finish because somewhere in the middle I get haunted by the visions of his hands touching me and they make me sick,” you whispered your secret.

“Poor aunt, you must be so tense,” Feyd cooed to you and let go of your wrist. “So ready and eager to welcome a child in her womb and yet so unsatisfied.”

You hated to admit that he was right. The amount of hormones that had been injected made your breasts and womanhood sensitive, a single brush of your servant’s hand during the bathtime was enough to fill you with desire. Most of the time you were walking around with an itch deep between your legs, a heavy burden that could not be removed by any means.

Now, Feyd-Rautha being so close to you and talking to you in such a manner was not helping. In fact, it was making your condition worse.

“What do you care?” You asked. “I thought you don’t want me to carry him a son. If he tossed me aside or even killed me, it would be your victory,” you pointed out.

“My greatest victory would be humiliating him by putting my son in your womb,” Feyd watched your reaction carefully but you didn’t even flinch at the sound of that.

He was young and so full of life. You were sure he’d succeed during the first try. It would secure your position and keep The Baron Happy.

“What if he finds out? He’d kill us both,” you bit on your lower lip.

“And you think I would allow that?” He snorted at you, revealing his black teeth. You were so shook up that in this state you even found them attractive. The fact they were so black, so different, so extraordinary, symbolising his brutality. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted his toxic saliva to poison your innocence. You wanted to be trapped under him as he ravages you.

He had to notice the shift of your gaze, the way you face changed its expression. He smirked triumphantly, already knowing that you craved him.

“The medic… He will see I was deflowered,” your last hesitation made you speak up your concerns.

“The medic?” Feyd-Rautha chuckled contemptuously. “The same one who is working for me? The same one who is making sure that my uncle’s seed is not succeeding?”

“Wh-what?” You choked out but he only smirked as he shushed you.

“Don’t forget you were supposed to be mine, little snake. I do not give up easily,” he admitted and with one rapid movement of his strong hands he pushed your legs apart as your thin silky dress pulled up, revealing you to him. “Let’s give you a quick release before I properly breed you. You must be in such pain and torment,” he cooed.

Your eyes widened at his actions but you did not protest. Your limbs were getting numb out of the overwhelming desire and feeling his breath on your pussy was nearly enough to make you cum on spot.

Feyd dropped to his knees and leaned in even closer, biting the soft flesh of your thighs gently with his black teeth and leaving trails of saliva. You felt your womanhood pulsating, begging for his attention. He had to notice the twitching muscles underneath your underwear as well as he chuckled and took it off of you greedily. He froze for a moment with his eyes fixed on his prize and he slowly licked his lips.

“So swollen and eager. The smell is enough to put only one thought in my head,” he admitted. “Make you swell with my seed. Come here,” he crooned in his coarse voice that sent shivers down your spine as he grabbed your ankles and pulled you closer to the edge of the armchair’s seat. He threw your feet over his muscular shoulders and opened his mouth to stick out his long and slim tongue to show it off for you as you took a deep and shaky breath in.

Feyd leaned in and buried his face between your wet folds that had been anticipating any sort of release for weeks now. You gasped loudly at the sensation of the tip of his tongue tickling your sensitive sweet spot. His mouth was so skilled that he did not require the assistance of his hands as he placed them flat on your thighs to keep steady. He would gather your wetness with his tongue and then dip it all inside of you, making your back arch and hips rise slightly for more friction. There were times when his whole face was buried deep into you but he did not even flinch from the lack of air as he was devouring you, licking you completely clean like a starving dog and then focusing again on your swollen clit. Whenever he teased it, you were sure you’d cum now but then he would move his tongue away over and over, keeping you on the edge.

Your gasps and soft moans filled the room. You were trying to hold yourself back a little, ashamed of being so displayed for him but on the other hand it was him kneeling down to lick your pussy like a servant. It was you who was in control and the thought of that alone was enough to turn you on even more.

Your hands had been squeezing the armchair’s leather fabric but you dared to place them on the back of Feyd’s bald head and he did not protest. In fact, he moaned at the feeling as a pleasurable vibration went down your body. Your toes curled when you pushed his face even deeper and you felt the pressure of his nose on your clit when he was fucking you with his long tongue.

The overwhelming desire stripped you out of shame as you began to move his head up and down, rubbing your pussy all over his face while your moans grew higher and louder. Fuck it, you thought, you deserved it. After months of such a sad and awful marriage, being The Baron’s trophy wife, unsatisfied and yet violated by his repulsing touch, you deserved to cum on his handsome nephew’s face. It was the least Feyd-Rautha could do to make it up for you.

With a loud moan, shaky breath and trembling legs you finally reached your peak. Although the movements of your hips came to a halt and your hands stopped pushing his face, he was relentlessly sucking on your clit throughout your high, until you begged him to stop and he hesitantly let go of your glistening pussy with your sticky juices vulgarly dripping down his chin as you looked down at him with hazy eyes.

“I could feast on you for days, Baroness, you’re as sweet as a ripe fruit from your homeworld,” Feyd did not bother with wiping his face. He took your limp feet and calves from his shoulders and threw them back on the floor before placing one last kiss upon your wet mound as your pussy twitched uncontrollably in an aftershock.

You didn’t know what to say. You could see the hunger in him, he expected more and you wanted it, too. You wanted to feel his cock inside of you, you wanted him to fuck you like The Baron could never do.

“Claim me, Feyd-Rautha,” you ordered in a weak voice. “I want to remember with satisfaction each time he asks for me that it is you who have claimed me and fucked me. Put your son in me and smile every time you see me walking swollen with your seed as you know that it is yours and not his. If you’re a good boy now, I might reward you and let you feast on my fruit every night in my chambers,” you promised, like it would bring him more pleasure than you, which was not true at all. You craved it as much as him, if not more.

Your words elicited even greater hunger inside of him as he grabbed you by your ankles and pulled you down on the cold marble floor. The coolness of the stone brought some relief to your feverish body, your dress was still pulled up and you watched Feyd positioning himself above you as you bit on your lower lip and realised he would truly claim you now, on the floor of an empty room in secret. There was something barbaric about it and the fact you were an innocent lady from a planet known as Paradise who would be taken by such a brute warrior was making you go dizzy. You didn’t even fear the pain that would come with it because you wanted it – you wanted him to stretch you out and fill you.

When such thoughts were invading your mind and exciting you all over again, Feyd got his cock out of his leather pants and stroked it at the sight of you waiting for him with your legs open. With his free hand he gathered the wetness of your pussy and coated his length with it before hovering over you with his face inches away from yours.

“It’s going to hurt, my Lady,” he warned you with a smirk, there was absolutely no worry in his voice.

“I want you to hurt me,” you nodded and grabbed his biceps, ready to dig your nails in them as he’d slide inside.

Your spent and overstimulated pussy was relaxed enough to welcome him but the burning sensation made your back arch and your eyes roll, you were sure your fingernails made his shoulders bleed but you did not care. The pain was overwhelming and mixed with pleasure, you felt as full as you could and yet he still had more and more to give you, sliding it inside slowly, inch by inch, with a raspy moan and his forehead pressed to yours.

“You’re so tight,” Feyd breathed out, “open your eyes,” he commanded and your eyes fluttered open to stare into his cold and intense gaze. “I want you to look at me when I fill you up with my son,” he added and you nodded, still too overwhelmed to speak but already getting used to his size as if your pussy was made for his cock.

Once you nodded, he started rutting into you with all his force without any warning. You dug your fingernails even deeper into his flesh and moaned out of pleasure as the spasms of pain travelled through your body. His moves were fast and rough, relentless; nearly automatic like he was a machine and not a human. With each stroke he was hitting a spot inside of you that was making you gasp and writhe underneath him, leaving you a drooling and whimpering mess. Feyd used one of his hands to grab your cheeks and squeeze them gently to shut you up before joining his lips with yours in a sloppy and possessive kiss. You could taste yourself on him and you moaned at the taste – it was sweet indeed from all the hormones you had been injected with. It was no wonder he got addicted already, you would get, too. In fact, you explored his mouth with the tip of your tongue in order to clean it off of your juices completely, greedily licking them away from him as you were letting out muffled moans into his mouth.

His hips were brutal and his mouth was aggressive but you wanted nothing else but this. Hearing the stories about his sexual appetite you had been scared but now you wanted to laugh at your old self. It was nothing to fear, it was something to anticipate.

The fact that the act was forbidden, that he was your husband’s young nephew and a rival of some sort, was making it even better. You were welcoming each of his rough thrusts with eagerness, hoping it would fill your already swollen womb. Your whole body was ready to take the seed and as much as you dreaded the idea of carrying your husband’s son under your heart, you found the idea of carrying Feyd-Rautha’s heir much more appealing. If he would be like his biological father, he’d be handsome and fearsome, psychotic and depraved. You’d see your lover in him – not your husband – and it was giving you satisfaction.

Feyd’s hands dropped to your breasts as he tore the fabric of your dress open to expose them for himself to squeeze and pull on your hard nipples. You broke the kiss and cupped his face to push it down to your neck where you needed his open-mouthed sloppy kisses and soft bites of his black teeth. He obeyed and then he moved his head even lower to give the same treatment to your breasts, occasionally accompanying your moans with his low grunts.

You could feel that your second peak was coming close and you wanted to make him finish, too, so you spoke up in a shaky, hazy voice.

“Fill me up, give me a son,” you pleaded in a raspy whisper. “I want it so bad, I want to swell with your baby.”

Feyd moved his head up once again and joined your lips in another kiss – this time it was messy with teeth clashing and uncontrollable moans as the movement of his hips became less steady. In a few short spasmodic thrusts he spilled his thick black cum inside of your pussy. The feeling of his hard cock filling you deep inside straight into your womb was enough to bring you to your second peak as well.

Once he was definitely finished, he broke the kiss between you two and moved up to slide out of you and hide his cock back into his pants. You whined at the empty feeling and watched him put his shirt back on while breathing heavily, still laying on the floor, exposed with your dress torn up and your hair a mess. Feeling like a whore and absolutely loving it.

“You will go to the medic tomorrow and tell him that he had to be mistaken and the seed had made its way inside of you,” he informed you oh-so-formally.

“You’re so sure of your success?” You asked.

“I am,” he leaned in to look at you. “Don’t worry, I shall still visit you at night whenever you invite me. I’m a dog at your command now,” he admitted shamelessly and you sat up, resting on your elbows to take a better look at him.

That fearsome warrior was completely under your spell and all you had to do was to let him taste your pussy. You laughed at him. He had so many other women, yet it was you who made him this way. You knew why. It was because you were a war prize, because you were from Paradise and because you were an off-world Shehzadi. But most importantly he wanted you because you were his uncle’s Baroness. He craved you to spite him.

“And if I command you to never touch me nor speak to me again? I have already used you for my own gain,” you teased and raised one of your feet to caress his thigh with it.

Feyd angrily grabbed your ankle and looked into your eyes intensely.

“Don’t think I will allow my child to be called his heir and watch myself being tossed aside as my son is remembered as Vladimir Harkonnen’s spawn,” he threatened.

You didn’t answer that, unsure about the meaning of his words. He gave you one last angry gaze and pushed your foot away before walking out of the room as if nothing had just happened.

Of course the medic did not believe your words but he pretended that he had. He couldn’t know that Feyd had told you about the fact that he was working for him so he just played along and informed the Baron that he had been mistaken and you were, in fact, finally pregnant with his son.

You had been hoping that once you’d be pregnant, your husband would leave you alone. But no, how wrong you had been. He was now keeping you around him nearly all the time as if you were a precious cargo. He invited many great leaders for official banquets and showed you off. He would sit you on his lap and keep his huge hand on your swollen abdomen proudly.

But you did not even mind that much – not when you knew that the child was not his. You would often catch Feyd-Rautha’s gaze somewhere in the room and give him a mysterious smile as he would give you a smirk. It was your secret, your revenge on The Baron Harkonnen.

And late at night he would creep inside your room and please you however you wanted him to, only to disappear before the first rays of the black sun would hit you, as if he was only a dream or a ghost. You would recognise his smell now everywhere, though. The feeling of his touch differed so much from others. There was nothing but pure and raw desire bonding you two together and yet, when you watched him in the gladiator arena next to your husband, you feared for his life and you would startle at the sight of his opponents attacking him.

You knew that if something or someone threatened your life, Feyd-Rautha would protect you and he was more physically capable of it than his uncle. You needed him alive to keep you and your son safe.

You admired his body and his strength, the amount of his devotion to you and his little revenge plan. He was magnetic and you almost felt lucky to be chosen by him even though it was you having the upper hand in this relationship.

Some nights he was not coming to you, too busy with other things or perhaps too exhausted after the training. You didn’t mind since your body needed a rest as well, especially now when you were six months pregnant already. That night was one of those lonely nights and you had problems with falling asleep, so when you were woken up abruptly in the early morning by your servants, you didn’t hide your annoyance.

“What is it?” You snapped and rubbed your eyes.

“It’s… It’s The Baron, my Lady,” the girl’s black Harkonnen eyes were widened out of fear.

“What about him?” You yawned and sat up, squinting your eyes at the sun creeping inside through the windows. Another servant was already opening the curtains.

“He… He drowned last night, my Lady,” the girl informed you and you froze.

“What?” You asked, blinking slowly, not sure if it wasn’t a dream. “What are you talking about? What do you mean drowned? My husband is dead?”

“Yes, Baroness… He drowned in his bathtub. My condolences,” she bowed down. “You are awaited by the lords for the council,” she informed you.

You were speechless as you allowed them to dress you up in a humble black dress of mourning. They did your hair up and put a light make up on your face to hide the dark bags underneath your eyes. Your mind was spinning with an endless train of thoughts.

One thing was certain – it had been no accident. It had to be Feyd-Rautha’s doing.

And as much as you were relieved to hear about The Baron’s death since he would never touch nor hurt you ever again… you were scared of what would happen now. There was no way the lords would allow you to rule as the widow. You were an off-world woman who had been married to their Baron as a war prize. You were a pet, nothing more. You only hoped to convince them to let your son be an heir as they call someone else a regent in his name. You couldn’t hope even for the regent title.

You were escorted to the council room by the guards and when you entered it, every man inside went silent. They bowed down and gave you their condolences but their eyes held no sympathy. Feyd-Rautha was not amongst them.

“Thank you, my lords,” you took a seat at the end of the long, black table. “It is a great tragedy but thankfully before his death, my husband has managed to produce an heir,” you brought up the topic immediately as the men looked at each other. “What is it?” You asked.

“The boy is not even born yet, my Lady,” one of the lords spoke up and pointed at Rabban. “If we announce Count Rabban the next Baron… or Feyd-Rautha as the late Baron wanted… Well, then they might produce their own heirs in the future. They are both young and capable.”

You got dizzy at those words and the reactions of other men. They seemed to hum in approval.

“So, I am to be tossed aside?” You asked, angrily. “I am carrying your late Baron’s son and you’re tossing me aside? The child inside me is a rightful heir,” you protested.

“And what would you want?” A different lord asked without even addressing you properly. You realised you had already lost. “Perhaps you want to be The Baroness Regent? Over my dead body I will let a woman – let alone from Pairi Daêza – to command me.”

“Enough!” The doors opened and Feyd-Rautha walked inside with his head held high and a playful smirk on his face. The way he confidently walked and scanned the room with his eyes was enough proof for you to know that it was him who had killed your husband. “The child is not yet born, that is a fair point,” he looked at the lord who had addressed the matter, “therefore at the time of my uncle’s death I was still the Na-Baron,” he added and you gasped softly. You couldn’t believe that he betrayed you. You chewed on the inside of your cheek at the realisation how stupid you had been to think you were playing on the same side.

You had never discussed any details of his plan with him. But you were carrying his son and you hoped he would protect you and the child. Apparently, he only tormented you for his own fun. You wanted to cry. You had lost everything.

Then he looked at you and his face softened a little at the sight of your trembling lip and sad eyes.

“I will wed my uncle’s widow to be my Baroness as the old levirate law says,” he announced and you froze out of shock. Levirate was a law about brothers but you guessed an uncle with such an important title counted as that, too.

“Respecting that law is not expected from you, my Lord Baron,” one of the lords informed him. “You can choose any other bride.”

“I can,” Feyd nodded and stood behind your chair as he rested his hand on your shoulder, “but I will not. I’m choosing Baroness (Y/N) Harkonnen to be my bride,” he announced as the lords looked at each other, as surprised as you were. Out of relief you reached your hand up to hold his and squeeze it in a grateful manner. “I also want to make it known,” Feyd raised his voice and everyone went silent as they looked at him, “that the child she is carrying is mine and not my late uncle’s, therefore her son is my heir.”

Your heart started to pound in your chest. The eyes of the lords were staring at you with such intensity that you were afraid they would make a hole inside of you. You swallowed thickly, knowing perfectly well that you just had to admit to your sins now.

“I confirm,” you nodded and they began to whisper between each other. Feyd’s hand squeezed yours.

“If you do not believe me nor The Baroness, the medic might make a public announcement of the paternity test but I do hope you will not humiliate your Baroness like that,” Feyd told them and they all went silent again.

“N-no, my lord Baron,” one of the lords stood up and bowed down in your direction. “We accept the child as yours and we will let others know.”

“I do not want this matter to be discussed nor questioned,” Feyd stated harshly.

“With all respect, brother,” Rabban spoke up suddenly and you laid your eyes on him, curious about what he was going to say, “the matter that has been discussed and questioned so far was our uncle’s fatherhood. The only thing we have found out today was the identity of the man our Baroness has laid with.”

“Rabban,” Feyd barked at him.

“It is quite alright,” you said. “I am rather relieved that I do not have to lie about it anymore as I am proud to carry Feyd-Rautha’s son under my heart,” you smiled at the lords. Some of them rolled their eyes but they still nodded their heads at you.

“Then it’s settled,” Feyd announced. “Go back to your chambers as we settle the details about my uncle’s funeral and the rest of the upcoming ceremonies, my Lady,” he looked down at you and you nodded. He helped you to stand up and placed a kiss upon the palm of your hand before taking your seat by the table.

You were taken back to your chambers accompanied by the guard as you caressed your womb gently, very content with the outcome of that council.

The excitement made you less tired so you just ordered breakfast. Once you were finishing it, the doors to your bedroom opened and Feyd-Rautha entered your chamber. For the first time by daylight, without making it a secret. You stood up from the table and approached him with a smile before you threw your hands around his neck.

“My darling,” you greeted him. “I have doubted you for a short while this morning, you know that?”

“Have I not told you that I would not allow my son to be remembered as his heir?” Feyd smiled at you and pulled you closer by your hips – as close as he could with your swollen womb between you two.

“But the lords were right. You do not have to marry me. I can give you a son, he can be your heir. There is no need to wed me,” you pointed out.

“Don’t you want it?” Feyd tilted his head.

“I’m asking do you want it,” you pointed out.

“I wanted to marry you a year ago when you came here, after I lifted up that veil. Why would I change my mind?” He put his hand on your abdomen and caressed it possessively. “You were supposed to be mine. You would have been mine if he hadn’t wanted to spite me.”

“Why do you want me?” You asked. “As a Baron you could have anyone. One of the Imperial Princesses even.”

“You’ve got what it takes, my Lady. You’re stubborn and strong. I’ve claimed you, you are mine,” he insisted.

You cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with your fingertips. It was hard to believe that he was yours now. Your husband. You would no longer dread these words.

“I will be a good wife to you, Feyd-Rautha,” you promised, genuinely. You did not want any games nor conflict. “I want only one thing from you.”

“And what is it?” He squinted his eyes at you, curiously.

“Safety,” you pleaded. “Of me and my family.”

“Your family is now my family,” he nodded and you sighed with relief. “I want a few things from you, too,” he added and you bit on your lower lip.

“What is it?” You asked.

“You will share your chambers with me,” he started and you nodded, “you will give me more heirs,” he added and you smiled at that, “and you will never mention him again,” he finished sternly.

“Never mention who?” You asked softly and leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon his lips. “There is only you and I.”

MASTERLIST

#dune imagine #dune fanfic #dune x reader #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha fanfic #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen imagine #feyd rautha harkonnen fanfic #lilysfiction #austin butler x reader

[thelaisydazy]

Firefighter!Simon Riley x Reader - Locked Out

“Riley! Bad dog!”

You don’t have time to look up before a familiar German Shepherd barrels into you, knocking you to the ground and sending your keys skittering across the sidewalk. 

You sputter as the dog licks your face before a hand grips Riley’s collar and pulls him off you. You wipe the dog slobber from your face and look up expecting to see Simon, instead you see a broad man with a short mohawk, attempting to reign in the overexcited dog. 

“Sorry leannan, dinnae mean fur ‘im tae get away from me,” he said as you started to get back on your feet. 

“S’alright,” you say, brushing off your pants. You give him a quick once over. He's wearing jeans and a tight fitting navy T-shirt with the fire department’s emblem on it. 

He gives you a lopsided grin. “Lek whit ye see, bonnie?” He teases. 

Your face feels warm as you attempt to stutter out a response. 

“I'm only joking, lasso,” he chuckles at your embarrassment. He glances at the bakery door. “Gett’n off yer joab? Ye must be that wee thing the LT acts so sweet aboot.”

You stare at him for several moments, having little idea what he's saying. “I uh… I was just getting off work yeah,” you finally say. “Bakery's closed for the day, sorry.”

“Oh naw, I wasn’t look’n tae buy anyfing,” he said warmly. “Jus’ walkin’ Riley ‘ere.” He stuck a hand out. “Ye can call me Johnny.”

You shake his hand, giving him your name as well. “It’s nice to meet you,” you say. “I don’t mean to rush off, but I need to get home.” You stick your hands in your pockets, finally registering that your keys weren’t in their usual place. You pat your other pockets before looking around at the ground. 

“Whit ye look’n fer?” Johnny asked. 

“My keys,” you say. “I think I dropped them when Riley ran up.” Your eyes scan the sidewalk before spotting the storm drain by the curb. Johnny seems to read your mind as he walks over and looks through the grate. 

“Wee charm oan it?” he asks. 

You groan. Of course your keys had fallen into the storm drain. How were you supposed to get into your apartment now? Your landlord was away on holiday and he hadn’t left a spare behind. He wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night. You’d just spend the night in the bakery, but you’d already locked up for the night and no one would be back until morning. 

Johnny seems to sense your distress as he claps you on the back, knocking you from your thoughts. “Ye can stay wi’ us at th’ station house,” he suggested. “We can even get yer keys oot th’ drain fur ye.”

“I don’t wanna be a both-” you start to say but are cut off by Johnny. 

“Dinna fash!” he beamed at you. “ Nae trouble at all.”

Before you could protest, Johnny wraps a muscular arm over your shoulder and starts to guide you back to the station, grinning to himself as Riley trotted happily next to you. Simon was going to love this.

---

As a treat, here's a second one today <3

#call of duty #cod fanfic #cod #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #firefighter!simon riley #firefighter!ghost #141 firefighters #firefighter!soap #firefighter!john mactavish #soap #john soap mactavish x oc #john mactavish

[m0llygunn]

boyfriend!eddie and reader having sex in the back of his van whilst it’s raining 😫

Hi! Thank you for the request! I got a little carried away with the love-y, poetic-y stuff but theres still all that smutty stuff too!

18+ only, please!

wc: 3.2k

✿⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☁︎˚｡⋆ ✿

It started slow then all at once. It was the kind of rain that warrants attention, the kind that demands you sit and watch. 

So that’s what you and Eddie had done. It was the safer option as well, to pull off the highway instead of pressing all the way home through the storm. Instead, you pressed through until you got to the old field just on the cusp of Hawkins that you two used to visit when you had first gotten together. 

It really was just a field. An old lot that you’re sure someone owns but hasn’t invested a lick of time into. Overgrown grass and a forested edge. Weeds and wildflowers weaved their way in and took claim to the land. The place is theirs but you and Eddie have been known to borrow it in the past. Not so much in the present. 

Just you, Eddie, and the wildflowers. 

It was where you first really hung out. In his van, doors propped open, letting the breeze in— it was where you got to know each other. It was home to the first time you held hands and the first time you shared a kiss. It was home to a lot of late nights where Hawkins seemed too overbearing and you both just needed to get away. 

In a sweet way, it was kind of like a home to where your love for each other sprouted. You and Eddie used to say that there were just as many wildflowers out in the field as there were kisses you’ve shared here. 

Beyond kisses, it was a place of innocence. 

When you and Eddie grew to that stage of your relationship, you spent more and more time in his room, growing more and more familiar with each other. Eventually, you stopped coming to the field. As time passed, the tire tracks in the grass faded and once again, the field was a place that only the wildflowers reigned. 

Today though— today, you pay the field a visit. 

Heavy rain on petals, dripping from their leaves like tear drops, you’re greeted by the weeping wildflowers, more abundantly spread on the land than you remembered. 

In the way the flowers appear to cry, it elicits a similar feeling inside you, like the swell of happy tears, born from being reunited with a lost friend. 

Eddie puts the van in park, reaching his hand back across the center console to squeeze your thigh. “We’ve got a lot of kisses to catch up on,” he says, meeting your gaze and nodding his head towards the plethora of brightly coloured speckles amongst the vast green. 

“Better get started then,” you laugh.

Like time had never passed, you and Eddie follow the same routine you used to. With a polite wave of his arm for you to go first and a gentle murmur of ‘ladies first’, you maneuver yourself to the back of the van with Eddie following suit. 

You both kick off your shoes and you take your seat, the place that Eddie has always set for you. He swings the back doors open, letting the mist of the rain and the dimmed rays from the clouded sky in. 

“Really raining, huh?” Eddie says as he settles next to you.

“Yeah, we needed it though. I would say the flowers needed it, but it looks like they’re doing just fine on their own,” you say fondly, scooting yourself to get a better view of the outside and coincidentally closer to Eddie. He does the same, shifting so he’s closer to you. 

He brings an arm over your shoulder, pulling you flush to his side.

“So, those kisses…” he says, grinning at you.

“Smooth, very smooth,” you smile, tilting your chin upwards to him as an invitation.

Eager as always, he wastes no time closing the distance between you two. 

Lips to lips, nose pressed against nose, he brings a hand to your jawline and he leans forward into you. Eager, very eager.

“Something tells me you want a little more than just kisses,” you laugh when he parts his lips from yours, trailing his pecks across your cheek and dipping them down to your neck. You practically feel his smirk against your skin.

“You know me so well,” he laughs softly, breath fanning over your skin. 

You run your hands down his chest, stopping at the hem of his shirt, tugging it upwards. He pulls away enough to help you remove it, flashing you a grin in the process. He’s not going to say it, but you both know he’s not the only one who wants a little more than just kisses.

His shirt thrown to the side, you run your fingers over his bare chest. The breeze coming in, and your gentle touch work in tandem to sprout goosebumps over his skin. He shivers, shaking his head gently, making you huff a soft laugh. He flashes you another smile, this time, hands grabbing to lift up your shirt.

“Let’s see how you like it,” he teases.

He pulls the cotton of your shirt up and over your head and before he has the chance to touch you, you already feel the crawl of goosebumps over your skin, as well as a light mist from the rain blowing in. Shivering immediately, Eddie laughs softly, but doesn’t hesitate to bring you close to him.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you warmed up,” he teases, making you laugh. 

His arms snaking behind your back, a quick tug on the clasp on your bra has it coming undone. He guides you downwards, helping you lay back onto the carpeted and blanket covered floor. 

Both arms caging you in, he hovers over you, letting you still feel his radiating warmth, but leaving just enough space between you two to free you from your bra. His mouth spreads into a smirk as soon as your hardened nipples come into his view, already perked and pebbled from the chill. 

“S’cold,” you whisper.

“Poor baby,” he coos.

He dips his face down, placing kisses to your collar bones and slowly working his way down. His hands rub your sides in long languid motions, careful friction with the intention of warming you up. At the same time, he presses his body to yours, sharing all of his warmth. 

His kisses get lower and lower until he’s sucking harshly on your chest, each press of his mouth like a spark of warmth in your bloodstream. He’s doing a good job of keeping his promise to warm you up. 

His mouth connects to your nipple, the heat of his mouth like a sweet relief that encompasses your whole body, all the way down to your core. 

Your hands weave into his hair as his tongue swirls and sucks. When he switches sides, taking your other nipple into his mouth, you hardly have the mind to feel the way the dampness of your skin nearly frosts in the air. No, instead, your hips cant upwards, seeking relief elsewhere now. 

“Eddie,” you hum, tugging lightly at the roots of his hair.

He hums back with a raised inflection in his tone— asking you what you need without parting his mouth from you. You lift your hips again, the denim of your jeans meeting his lower belly with the way he’s positioned over you.

He removes his mouth from your chest with a wet ‘pop’ before looking up at you with a cute smile and contradictory dark eyes. 

“Feeling warmer?” he asks through his grin. 

“More,” you whisper pleadingly. 

His smile deepens, eyes dancing in amusement as he passes his hands down your sides a final time, pushing himself up and giving himself the space he needs to remove both of your remaining clothes. 

“You know,” he starts. His hands work at your pants, undoing them, while he spares you quick glances, a certain mischievousness lingering in each look your way. “They say if you ever meet somebody who might have hypothermia, you’re supposed to cuddle with them naked.” 

“Funny,” you huff quietly, trying to stop the way your lips demand to tug up. You lift your hips for him as he shimmies your jeans down your body. 

He meets your gaze once again with raised brows. “I’m serious, saw it on one of those survival shows,” he says as he throws your pants to the side. 

You match his gaze, raising your brows to mirror his. “Eddie, you’ve already got me down to my underwear, don’t think I need any more convincing,” you reply with nothing but adoration for him in your voice. He laughs, and you beckon him forward, sitting up just enough to reach his pants, tugging the belt undone. Eddie helps you with the rest, freeing himself from both his denim and boxers. 

“Hope nobody comes out here or they’re gonna see a whole lotta ass,” he says as he tosses his clothes next to yours. 

You bring your hands to the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down and Eddie quickly takes over, pulling them the rest of the way down your legs and adding them to the pile of clothes.

“Nobody comes out here,” 

“You’re only saying that ‘cause it’s not your ass on the line, it’s mine,” he laughs as he situates himself, guiding your knees outwards to make space for himself. His hardened cock demands your attention as it bobs in front of you, but you catch his gaze.

“They’d be lucky to see your ass,” you smile sweetly at him, knowing it’s the truth— that if someone did come out here, he’s the one in the direct line of sight, not you.

“Yeah, yeah,” he smiles back, rolling his eyes. You huff a laugh through your nose, pulling him closer to you, making kissy lips at him. He indulges you, leaning forward and sweeping you up in a kiss that he’s quick to deepen. 

With his body hovering over yours, he moves his forearm to rest on the floor under your shoulder to keep himself steady. His free hand snakes between the two of you, sliding along your lower belly until he reaches your mound. His fingers quickly breach your folds, gliding towards your already slicked hole. Groaning into the kiss, he gathers your wetness on his fingertips before moving back up to your clit. 

Slow circles on your sensitive button, your breath hitches. At the same time, your hips buck— your body's way of demanding more. 

The kiss becomes sloppy, wet, and full of your heavy pants. Eventually, you lose the capacity to move your lips against his as he continues his movements, speeding them up ever so slightly. Your chest rises and falls with your quickened breaths as he works you past just relief and well into the territory of explicit pleasure, heat blooming heavily in your lower belly. 

“Need you t-t—“ you stutter, your own ragged breath interrupting your speech. 

“Need me to what, baby?” Eddie asks, relishing in the way he has you worked up like this, nearly so far gone that you can hardly speak.

“Inside. You,” you moan, trying to gather your wits. “Please.”

“My girl wants to cum on my cock?” he says tauntingly, loving the sight of you like this. He speeds up his fingers and your hips stutter, the emptiness inside of you becoming too much to bear. 

“Please,”

“I don’t know if you’re ready for it. Think you’re warmed up enough?” he taunts again, keeping his unrelenting pace on your clit. 

“Mhm,” you hum in a strangled breath. “Please, Eddie.”

His movements on your clit stop and are replaced with the throb of need. Before your whined breath can carry up from your lungs, through your throat, and out your mouth, his cock is at your entrance pushing in, quickly bottoming out inside of you. He steals every ounce of your breath, pushing it from you in a heavy mewl, his own deep groan sounding in your ear as he leans in closer to you. 

“Fuck, how’s that feel, baby?” he asks.

You suck in a breath, whining softly, and he presses a kiss to your cheek. He hums, encouraging you to answer his question.

“Feels good, Eddie.” you moan.

“Yeah?”

“Always feels good.”

Eddie presses another kiss to your cheek, followed by a quick peck to your lips before shifting. Taking both your knees in his hands, he tilts your hips upwards giving himself better leverage. As he does, he cock perfectly pushes against your g spot, knocking you breathless once again. 

“Just like that, huh?” he rasps, watching you as you take steadying breaths, eyes already fluttering. You nod your head fervently, desperately needing him to move. 

Meeting his gaze, he smiles softly, knowing exactly what you need. 

Slowly but surely, he pulls his hips back from yours. Pushing back in, the head of his cock grazes that perfect spot again and you sigh contendently as your eyes flutter unrelentingly in your pleasure.

He finds a steady pace that has you moaning and mewling. Every stroke bringing you closer to the edge, the chilly breeze is a thing of the past. The way the rain patters against the van and the gentle sounds of the wind whispering through the air doesn’t breach your consciousness in the slightest. The only thing on your mind is Eddie— and when he brings his hand to your clit, continuing those pleasure filled little circles, your mind is reduced to nothing but a puddle of love for him and how he’s making you feel.  

“F-fuck, feels so good,” he stutters, picking up his pace. 

You feel the heat simmering in your belly and you know any second you're about to reach your peak. Grasping forward, you anchor yourself to Eddie with a desperate hand wrapping around his arm, clutching onto him with everything you have.

His breathing is ragged, grunts and groans decorating each thrust into you. Skin on skin, the sticky slapping and the wet obscenities with each pump give nature's sounds that echo through the field a run for their money. 

He picks up his speed on your clit, abruptly pushing you right over the edge. Your body tenses, pulses, and stutters under him, washing you over in the euphoria of your high. Eddie’s not far behind as he chases you into the waters of pleasure. 

With your hips jerking kinetically from his fingers on your clit, he relents his movements, pressing his hand to your hip, anchoring himself to you much as you had done to him. As his fingers press into your skin, his pace starts to become uneven. 

With a low groan, he thrusts deeply into you, his hips meeting yours completely. The depth of his reach and sudden contact on your sensitive clit has you jolting, adding a second wave to your dwindling orgasm. Your muscles tense harshly, fluttering around him, making him nearly whine as he comes undone. Drawing from you once again, he continues slow, shallow thrusts, working himself through his release. 

Your orgasm subsiding, you hum happily, still feeling the tingly remnants of pleasure in your body all the way from the tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes. Eddie collapses besides you, not going far at all, mere inches from being halfways on top of you. 

Reaching your hand over his back, you're met with his wet skin, more damp than just sweat, and you retract your touch out of surprise. 

“S’just rain,” he mumbles into your skin. You return your touch, gliding it down the expanse of his drenched skin. You use your hand to slick it off from him.

“Didn’t know you were getting rained on,” you say, shaking the water from your hand before settling it back down against his back, cuddling closer to him. 

“It’s only water,” he replies, lifting his head to see you, a grin pulled across his rosy face. 

You both lie like that for a while, sharing whispers and each other's company before separating enough to put yourselves back together. In the moment you hadn’t noticed just how much rain was blowing in through the open doors. Only after the fact did you realize the way the carpet was heavily dotted with wet drops and how both yours and Eddie’s legs were coated in a misted dew. Eddie got the brunt of the rain, his whole backside dripping wet. 

You helped him dry off, giving him kisses for his sacrifice despite him telling you it was well worth it. Once you were both redressed, you wrapped the two of you in one of the fuzzy blankets you keep back here. 

“Why’d we stop coming here?” Eddie asks, pulling you in tighter to his side. 

Tilting your face up towards him, you raise your brows as you meet his gaze. “Because you started only bringing me to your bed,” you reply, hiding your smile by pursing your lips. He laughs, face lights up with amusement, a deep smirk spreading across his face because he knows you’re right. 

“Well, this was fucking amazing, I think we should do this more often,” he jest, pinching at your side. You squirm but he rubs his hand over the affected area, soothing the pinch and the tickles away.

With a warning raise of your brows, despite your unwavering smile, he takes the hint, placing a quick kiss to your cheek like a sugar coated apology. 

You agree with him, you should come back here more often, but you don’t indulge him in that information just yet. Instead you redirect your gaze over the kingdom of wildflowers in front of you. 

The rain, slowing to a drizzle, your eyes reap over the field, taking in the small details you used to be so well acquainted with. It’s both nostalgic and bittersweet. It’s the same place you once knew, yet, at the same time, it’s entirely different. 

It’s a tender wash of feelings. The field flourished without you. Similarly, you and Eddie flourished without the field. It was a funny thing to come back like this— like both you and Eddie, and the field greeted each other so dearly, with heavy rain drops that felt like tears, only to show off the ways in which you’ve both grown since you’ve been apart. 

Growing is a part of life, as it is a part of love, both of which you’ve become familiar with ever since you met Eddie. Before, you thought love was supposed to be fiery crimson and vibrant magenta, heavily embellished with love hearts and fireworks. As time has gone on, you’ve grown to understand that love has shades. Love can be vivid and flashy and extravagant, but it can also be the simple things. 

Right now, love is an overgrown field, hued blue from the overcast sky, with green grass sprinkled in pink, orange, yellow, and red confetti. Love is rosy cheeks and rain misted skin. Love is simple, natural. Love is you, Eddie, and the wildflowers. 

✿⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☁︎˚｡⋆ ✿

Thank you! hope you like it <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader

[reminiscingtonight]

baking kitchen mess (aitana bonmatí)

Recipe For Relaxing (Aitana Bonmatí x Reader)

A/N: Barca you're massive 💪

[WOSO Masterlist]

It’s been a long day.

First, your ever lovely girlfriend drank what was left of the coffee and left for an early training without even telling you.

Then your alarm clock seemingly forgot how to do its job, leaving you, still barely awake with no caffeine in sight, to scramble to make it to work on time.

The meeting you slipped into was already in motion, multiple eyes zeroing in on you as you tried to sneak in undetected. So with a healthy dose of tiredness and shame following you to your classroom, you really hoped that your rambunctious lot of third graders would magically surprise you with manners fit for royalty.

It really shouldn’t have irked you as much as it did when all twenty-five of them seemed to catch the wiggle-bug. Nobody was able to sit for more than a couple minutes without jumping or shouting what was on their minds.

By the time the clock signaled the end of the school day you were more than ready to rip out your hair. As politely as you could you wished all of your students goodbye, waving at their grinning faces as their parents herded them away.

Any hope you had at relaxing was dashed when you noticed the cars lining the street all the way up to your driveway.

Sighing, you drove a bit further away before parking on the curb, knowing better than to expect the girls to leave you a clear spot to park in your own driveway.

Mumbling under your breath you stepped over the shoes discarded carelessly by the door. Although you could hear laughter wafting from the living room, you took the side door to get a well needed beer from the fridge. As much as you loved Aitana and all twenty of her clubmates, you needed something to help rewind before even entertaining the idea of playing host.

The second your foot crosses the doorway leading into your kitchen however, you freeze. Your fingers tighten against the doorframe as you take in the sight in front of you.

Something was baking in the oven, but dirty bowls littered your counters, as did half-used ingredients. Flour covered almost every surface, even tracking throughout the ground. 

Clearly the girls had never heard of leaving things as they found it. 

You shut your eyes, jaw clenching so hard that you know your dentist will be giving you an earful when you see her next.

“Aitana Bonmatí Conca, what the hell did you do to my kitchen?!”

The chattering ceases instantly. 

Angrily turning around, you stomp into the living room to give the girls a piece of your mind.

You’re met with wide guilty eyes, the footballers looking scolded before you even started. 

“Hola bebé, you’re home early.” Aitana gives you a timid grin but you’re not amused.

Your nose flares angrily as you take another step forward. Everyone flinches when you shove a finger into Aitana’s chest. “Clean up my kitchen. Now.”

The air is silent as no one dares to move.

You quirk an eyebrow, tilting your head to make eye contact with the rest of the team. “Now! Pronto! Move your asses girls! I wanted it spotless yesterday!”

It’s like a hurricane storming when everyone scrambles up all at once. Quiet apologies are thrown your way as they pass by, everyone eager to escape your anger.

Aitana tries to sneak away with her teammates but your hand clamps down on her arm before she can even take a step.

“I love you?” she tries, deflating when she sees your unamused look.

“Aitana, babe, love of my life, I love you but you’re the bane of my existence. I’m exhausted and would love it if you could reign in the girls and not make messes for me to clean up.”

A look of determination crosses her face as Aitana nods quickly. “I will do a better job of cleaning up.”

“Thank you,” you sigh, relaxing a bit when Aitana timidly leans forward to give your forehead a soft kiss.

Your girlfriend takes it as a win when she wraps her arms around you and you instantly sink into her hold. The exhaustion from your day seemingly catches up to you as you sway dangerously, ready to go to bed despite it still being early. 

Sighing, you rub at your eyes before gently pushing Aitana off of you. “Thank you for putting up with me. ‘M sorry for yelling.”

“It’s okay, I’m sure you’ve had a long day. Is there anything I could do for you?”

Humming, you give her a kiss when she leans forward for one.

“Could you go get me a beer and tell the rest of the girls that they don’t have to hide in the kitchen from me?”

“I--” Aitana winces. “I think we’re out.”

When Ingrid pokes her head out of the kitchen a couple minutes later, selected by the bunch as the least likely to get her head bitten off by you, she’s met with the sight of you sitting on the couch, feet thrown up on the table as you mindlessly flip through the TV.

You hold up a stack of papers towards the Norwegian. 

“Got a new team bonding activity for you heathens.”

Aitana sighs when she catches sight of the rest of her teammates with each of their own personalized shopping lists at the store down the street. 

“She got you guys too?”

#aitana bonmati x reader #aitana bonmati imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes #3wp

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Can i request a hotch fic where he and reader had a fight but they cant sleep if the one isnt in bed with them so they end up cuddling and its just fluff🥰

fem!plus size reader, wc: 525.

a/n: i really hope that you guys can feel the playful and kind of "crack-fic" undertones that are in this fic because i felt like back to back angst might kill me! 😭

You really needed to stop being impulsive when you were mad.

You attempted to shift off of the loose spring in the sofa that was digging into your back, but reigned unsuccessful because another one just ended up digging into your shoulder.

Now that you were lying here and had time to reflect on the course of tonight's events, you realize that you may have acted a little ridiculous.

You and Aaron didn't really fight a lot. Sure there were arguments or light bickering here and there, but that wasn't anything unexpected to come from two lovers.

But this total fucking blowout takes the cake.

It started over nothing really, the wrong comment on the wrong night; which then turned into nitpicking and finding anything to argue about until someone's feelings got hurt. Those feelings being yours obviously.

So, you dramatically snatched a pillow and blanket off of your shared bed and stormed out into the living room, loudly announcing that you were sleeping on the couch tonight.

That had been an hour ago.

You missed your boyfriend even though he was literally in the room across from yours. You could apologize yes, but if you were going to be honest, you were embarrassed by how immature you were.

You groaned, slapping your hands over your eyes and rubbing them in frustration.

You should have known better than to do this, because it was basically an acknowledgement between Aaron and you that you guys had a hard time sleeping without the other. It slipped your mind in the heat of the moment!

As if he had read your mind, you heard the bedroom door open.

“Honey?”

You could hear the tiredness in his voice and it had almost made you tear up, but ever the stubborn woman, you turned over onto your side with an exaggerated huff.

It was silent for a moment before you heard the slight cracking of his knees, and the light thumping of his feet. The blanket that was splayed over your body was lifted, and you jolted in surprise.

Aaron had tucked himself as far into your back as humanly possible, forcing you to move forward a bit so he wouldn't fall over the edge and onto the floor. He rested his head in the crease of your neck and shoulder, throwing a large arm over your mid section and intertwining his legs with yours.

Oh, he was using your weakness against you.

“Sweetheart, I'm sorry.” Aaron mumbled.

You grumble a bit before sighing and gripping his hand resting on your stomach.

“I'm sorry too.”

“I didn't mean to freak out on you. It's just, I'm just stressed with my job and-” You cut him off. “Aaron baby, my heart, my soul and the love of my life. I mean this when I say that it's fine. I didn't act all that rationally either.”

He places a kiss on the naked skin of your neck, the sensation causing butterflies to swarm in your belly.

“It's okay. I just want to go to bed. Will you come with me?”

“Of course… but I'm the little spoon.”

He chuckles lovingly, “Of course.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

#✰ ― meau's inbox ! #aaron x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x plus size reader #plus size reader #x plus size reader #plus size!reader #x chubby reader #chubby reader #fanfiction #fluff #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron cm #aaron hotchner cm #aaron criminal minds #aaron hotchner criminal minds #cm #criminal minds #cm fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction

[tiyoin]

jade x reader x floyd

where they give reader swim lessons (they actually destroy readers one piece and cbat reader )

reader is pissed because they’re literally nakey???? and the assholes who caused it won’t fucking help????

ofc they throw you your now bikini (what’s left of one) and leave you to it.

you know what, fuck it. you put it on and storm out of the swimming area, pool? idk idc to elaborate where they are

and you’re stomping down the hallway, angry as a bull as you silently pray that the ‘bikini’ pieces stay in tact.

you ignore the whistles, the purrs, the cat calls and sway away a hand or two. you’re on a mission and NO horny highschool boy will EVER catch you lacking. never again.

slamming open a door while hiding your body, you asked “where’s ashengrotto”

they point you to two classes over. slamming the door again, a few students peeked out of their classes as you walked by.

slamming open the door, this time not bothering to hide yourself, you call for azul.

“ashengrotto here now!”

he gave you an incredulous look before he quickly got up and walked towards you. closing the door behind him you BLASTED him

“TELL YOUR FUCK DOGS TO LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE YOU HEAR! THOSE SHIT STAINS ARE THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE AND YOU BETTER TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR MY NEW UNIFORM. WHAT IF I TELL THE WHOLE WORLD ABOUT YOUR TWO MISCHIEVOUS EMPLOYEES HUH?? THEN WHAT”

“and why are you telling me this? i’m not their baby sitters” he sneered

ooooo you wanted to punch him. you wanted to punch him reallll bad

“tell them to piss off”

“tell them yourself” he smirked slightly, one arm holding up his other as he motioned behind you

“they’re right behind me, aren’t they”

he nodded.

without missing a beat, you spin around, loaded your leg, and fired your foot right into one of their crotches.

the crowded cringed as the great and mighty leech collapsed into the ground.

now, i’m guessing no one ever informed them of what ‘crotch shots’ were. but now they do. 🤷🏻

and before the other could react or hear his twin hit the floor, you kicked him too.

spinning to azul, you pulled him by his tie as you heard gasping behind you.

“you’re next fuck-tard” pushing him aside, you stormed off as people cleared a path for you.

of course your reign of terror wasn’t over as you punched a column as you passed it. cursing insults at them still before you stalked off towards your lair. (ramshackle)

one would think the octotrio would be out for blood, ready to make you a another name in their records.

but the three of them fell in love.

—

#cultural differences #‘oh there’s a kick to this one’ #it’s definitely because you’re a girl #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul x reader #floyd x reader #floyd leech x reader #twisted wonderland jade #jade x reader #jade leech x reader

[lovinpelova]

salty | j. fleming

summary; arsenal win against chelsea, jessie isn't too happy about it. [SMUT]

listen to: agora hills - doja cat

the ball fell to your feet as jessie gave it away, your instincts taking over and your legs ran as fast as they could towards chelseas defense. looking for an option and seeing stina was far behind with frida trailing on the right side of her, you decided to go for it.

"don't you dare!"

jessie yelled as she finally caught up, tugging on your shirt lightly in a duel for the ball but undoubtedly failing, you dribbled past her with a nutmeg into an opening before your foot connected with the ball perfectly towards the bottom right. watching it curl towards top bins as your girlfriend got to you a second too late, knowing it went in before it even left the ground and sighing in your ear as she watched you run away to celebrate with your teammates.

the game was now 3-1 to arsenal with one minute of injury time left to play, the whistle being blown a couple seconds late as you screamed in joy. this was your first piece of silverware with arsenal in a while, so jessie could understand why it meant so much to you, especially considering you'd scored to give your side a bigger lead. you high-fived and hugged all the chelsea players before even thinking about celebrating with your teammates, saying they played well and would do better next time.

you eventually reached your girlfriend and looked into her eyes for any indication of how she was feeling, seeing sadness and a little bit of anger.

"you played well jess-"

"did you have to fucking nutmeg me?"

she asked bluntly whilst high-fiving you, giving you a quick hug as you laughed at her anger and watched her walk away to her teammates. she'd let go of it in a couple hours time when you got home after her- but for now, you had to go get drunk with leah and katie.

--------

"jessie? i'm home baby!"

you called out into your shared apartment whilst taking off your shoes and coat, placing your belongings on the kitchen counter beside you as your girlfriend stormed towards you. you grinned at her, picking up the medal that hung around you neck and moving it left to right, laughing when she followed it with her eyes like a dog. okay, maybe you could be a bit mean about it when you won against chelsea, but she played for one of your biggest rivals in the clubs history- could you be blamed?

"i'm not a fucking dog, stop doing that. i'm not a loser either, chelsea should have won."

"the scoresheet says otherwise my love."

you retaliated, taking off the medal and putting it with the rest of your belongings as you watched jessies lip curve up in a scowl for a moment, she grunted and took another couple steps towards you before pushing you into the counter and kissing you harshly. if jessie was anything, she was a bad loser. she tended to stay salty and defensive about it for a while and then refuse to admit she lost when she calmed down from her emotions.

right now, she was defensive. and judging by the way her lips were moving against yours and hands were gripping your waist, she was furious about the loss. chelsea had a reputation of winning all the finals they got to, reigning champions of the super league and even getting to beat manchester united in the fa cup final, so what was so different about arsenal with the continental cup?

"i am not a loser."

she growled against your lips as she pulled away, watching the way your eyes slowly opened to realise she'd shocked you beyond belief. jessie was normally soft and shy, even in bed whenever you asked her to be rough she'd still be too scared of breaking you or something, so this side of her was something new. and you loved it.

"yeah? wanna show me how much of a winner you are then?"

you teased whilst fidgeting with the collar of her shirt, both of you still in club kit with your hair tied up but jessie didn't care. as much as she hated the arsenal red she couldn't fault how good you looked in it.

the canadian picked you up with your legs around her waist and started walking towards your bedroom, her lips moving desperately against yours. you could tell she needed this. to forget about the loss and mistakes she'd made, she needed a sense of euphoria - a different type of high - and she needed it now.

if that happened to be sourced by you moaning out her name in pleasure all night long, who were you to deprive her of what she wanted?

jessie put you down on the bed and tugged her shirt off, throwing it across the room as she climbed over you and watched you take yours off, her pupils dilating even more whilst her hands trailed up your torso. her breathing grew heavier as she seemingly got lost in her thoughts, the way her stomach and chest were heaving up and down affecting you in embarassing ways.

she snapped out of her trance when you let out a small whine at the sudden slow pace, accepting the smirk she gave you and pulling her down to continue making out like you were both in heat. her hips started to grind against yours slowly as she gripped your ass and waist shamelessly, moving her lips down to your neck and chest whilst leaving marks behind. she moved down to your stomach impatiently and bit down hard, smiling at the hiss you let out as her hands tugged down your shorts and underwear, too impatient to bother with the struggle of removing your sports bra.

"you gonna stop being cocky if i fuck it out of you?"

she moved your legs to rest over her shoulders, kissing up the inside of your thighs and sucking to leave the occasional love bite with her hands gripping your thighs.

"gonna have to find out aren't you?"

you countered, hands moving to her hair and shoulders for a sense of release when she eventually did start fucking you- and that she did. her tongue dived into you like she'd been starved for years beforehand, sloppily licking up your arousal before she started flicking it quickly over your clit just the way you liked. jessie smirked as she looked up at you, hearing you moan out in surprise with your back arched and fingers tugging at her hair- god she loved it when you pulled her hair whilst she ate you out.

she wrapped her lips around the sensitive bud and started sucking, watching you writhe under her before moving further down towards your entrance, not waiting a single moment to dip her tongue inside and moan at the taste of you.

"ohh, tastes so good babygirl. already drunk off you."

she moaned into your pussy shamelessly whilst pushing her face further into you, not caring about how the dirty talk was unusual for her and deciding to continue her movements. she pulled one hand up to rub her thumb over your clit at the perfect pace whilst her tongue worked itself in and out of you, listening to the way you responded to her manhandling with a sense of pride filling her. she didn't care about losing the match anymore, she cared about making you cum all over her face.

jessie nuzzled her face into you further as you moaned out her name with a plead for more, quickly pulling her tongue out and moving it to flatten against your heat, trailing it up to your clit before she took it into her mouth and started sucking harshly again. she moved her hand towards your entrance and pushed a finger in without warning, listening to you whimper at the sudden intrusion as she pushed in a second finger soon after.

her fingers quickly curled towards your g-spot and began abusing it, the canadian grunting in annoyance when you bucked your hips as it took her mouth away from you when they fell back onto the bed. she moved her other hand to hold your waist down so she could properly move her fingers deeper into your heat, moving her head up to be level with yours and holding your hips down with her own whilst her hand went around your neck.

"stay still or i'm gonna leave you here like this."

you nodded your head in response as she sped up her thrusts, moving in to kiss you sloppily with yourself trying to kiss back. your orgasm was impending and jessie could feel it, the way your walls were clenching around her fingers tighter with each thrust telling her as she peppered kisses along your collarbones and moved her hand to massage your waist gently whilst she talked you through it.

"c'mon baby, you wanna be a good girl right? you gonna cum for me? make me a winner? gonna be my good girl, aren't you?"

"yes jessie- gonna, god i'm so close. m'gonna cum for you, so good."

you whimpered out in response to her praise as she moved her thumb to rub over your abused clit again, the extra stimulation making you fall over the edge and onto her fingers as she continued to talk you through it just the way you liked her to.

"attagirl, that's it princess. makin' me a winner, hm? so good to me baby, keep goin- just like that, there you go."

"jessie-"

you tried to speak, getting cut off with the aftershocks of your orgasm hitting you hard, especially when she licked your arousal off her fingers right in front of your face. breathing heavily and looking up at her, you smiled at each other, both apologetic.

"i'm sorry for being a dick about it."

"i'm sorry for not taking the loss well."

jessie spoke softly, leaning down to kiss you gently as you gladly kissed back, her hand holding your face as yours dragged themselves up her back whilst you moaned at the feeling of her muscles underneath your fingertips. the canadian smiled into the kiss and pulled away to grin at your blush, shaking her head at you as you shyly smiled back before she rolled onto her back and pulled you onto her waist with a passionate kiss, obviously intending to be a winner again.

#jessie fleming #woso smut #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #jessie fleming smut #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming fanfic #chelsea wfc #chelsea wfc x reader #chelsea womens #chelsea women #canada womens #canada women #canada wnt #woso #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics

[sinnah8]

Escape

pairing: Miguel x reader (platonic), Spiderpunk x reader

prompt: How about Miguel O'Hara Ripping into Spiderperson!fem!reader and Hobie defending his s/o. Like he's so chill and their relationship is sorta like sunshine and laidback chill dude but the moment he sees the readers eye glisten with and lip quiver all bets are off and his hands are e for everyone- @ghestie93

A/n: I loved the idea hope you guys enjoy it!

Materlist | Request

Miguel O'Hara paced back and forth in his laboratory, his mind seething with anger. He couldn't believe what Y/n had done. She had broken the delicate balance of the multiverse, and now chaos reigned supreme. The consequences of her actions were unfathomable, and Miguel was determined to let her know just how furious he was.

As the Spider-Man of 2099, Miguel had a responsibility to protect the timelines and maintain order across the dimensions. He had dedicated his life to studying the fabric of the multiverse, and y/n reckless behavior had put everything at risk. He stormed towards her, his eyes filled with fury.

"Y/n! How could you be so foolish?" Miguel yelled, his voice echoing through the lab.

Y/n, normally confident demeanor now shaken, looked up at Miguel with a mix of guilt and remorse. "Miguel, I didn't mean for this to happen. I was trying to stop a greater threat, and I made a mistake."

"A mistake? This is more than just a mistake, Y/n. You've shattered the very foundations of reality!" Miguel's words were harsh, his frustration evident. Her eyes start to glisten as she looks away.

Just as the tension reached its peak, a familiar voice cut through the air. "Hoy, O'Hara, Fuck off!"

Hobie swung into the lab, landing between Miguel and y/n. He crossed his arms defiantly, standing up for his girl friend. He pushes Miguel "Don't talk to her like that mate".

Miguel chuckles " What are you gonna do save your little girlfriend?" Hobie smirks "It's exactly what I'm gonna do". He webs Miguel and uses the watch to open a portal he takes y/n by the hand and removes watch and crushes it.

"Are you ok love? Did he hurt you?". Y/n smiles tears weld up in her eyes "thank you hobie." She hugs him "anything for you."

#into the spider verse #fanfic #marvel #miguel o'hara x reader #marvel fanfiction #spiderman #spider man x reader #spider punk #spider-punk #spiderpunk x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x reader

[milliesdiary]

Imagine if the reader is friends with Jace and Luke but also betrothed to Aemond, so when he makes that offensive toast at dinner, reader gets mad and confronts him. She says that if he actually loves her, then he would stop doing those things, which leads to a confession <3

𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭; after a fight-provoking tribute at a family dinner, you ask aemond — your friend and betrothed — where his feelings lie.

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬; princess!reader from an unspecified house, fluff, a bit of spice ♡

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; thank you all for the support! also a big thank you for those who wanted to be tagged :) you keep me going! for anyone who reads this, please reblog and comment with your feedback. i fall in love with everyone who does and it means so much! i appreciate you & be sure to consider following to stay updated ✨

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬; @deeeeexx @cassianas @sweet-andromeda @thedeathofduty @evasgreentea @burningcoffeetimetravel

𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄.

It started off a bit rocky, to be fair. But then Viserys’ made a plea for peace, begged for the family to heal, and the tension melted like a slab of butter in a warm hand. Everything finally seemed to be falling into place.

Forgiveness was offered. The family was together. Your betrothed was complacent, despite being in the presence of his nephews. Alicent hid her laugh behind a hand, Rhaenyra’s pretty lips were curled into a smile that matched Daemon’s, Jace and Helaena were dancing — it was all perfect. 

You’re not even sure where it went wrong. It just did. 

You are laying in bed now, hours after the eventful gathering. The insomnia you're experiencing is a classic case; Aemond's tribute plays over and over in your head. You aren’t even remembering the crucial details, like what he said or what you ought to have said.

Instead, all you can recall are the expressions on Luke and Jace's faces, the way the lighthearted mood deteriorated, and the clang of your knife on your plate after dropping it in shock. 

You also remember storming out of the room. 

Truthfully, you are embarrassed at your future husband’s behavior. His smirk had been so arrogant that you wanted to meet it with a fist, and you probably would have if you could get away with it. 

You have been betrothed to Aemond for about a moon, and while you were aware of his distaste toward his nephews, you never thought he would disrupt his family as they attempt to repair the rift between them. 

Over a fucking pig. 

Maybe you should have expected it. 

You met Aemond when you were both children, as your father had established a peace treaty with the Targaryens at the beginning of his reign. You saw the boy get taller, watched his jaw sharpen, and stared on as his charm turned into the stern temperament of a man. He learned to ignore the things that do not serve him. 

You knew that Aemond became a person of duty, of justice; he would not let things go that easily. He held a grudge with the incident. Losing his eye. 

Taking that into consideration, this should not have been that big of a surprise.

And Gods, do you still want to marry him. When your father informed you about the betrothal, you were overjoyed, fit to burst, chest suddenly stuffed with the warmth of the sun and a billion ‘what ifs.’ 

Aemond has fascinated you throughout the years; he has always seemed so at ease and still. Unhurried and righteous. He can remain at the fireplace for a considerable amount of time, leaving you to constantly wonder what he might be thinking and how he is able to survive in such solitude.

You love him. Always have, though you are too scared to tell him. Part of you wonders if he shares the same affections. 

But there’s no chance of that, is there? Aemond does not allow himself to experience attraction or establish attachments. There is no changing that. He must have agreed to the proposal because it was the right political choice; there is no other reason why he would have accepted. 

Aemond loving you back? It’s impossible. 

You roll over onto your side and stare at the window that sits across the room, trying to focus on the moonlight drifting through. It takes about thirty seconds of dead silence for you to realize that you might just go insane. You’re literally about to grab an extra pillow and shove it over your face — with the plan of suffocating yourself to sleep — when you hear a knock on your chamber door.

The noise almost makes you jump. For a moment, you consider not answering it, but curiosity refuses to bid you farewell. You crawl out of the sheets and reach for a match on your dresser, flicking it against the wood to conjure a flame. You ignite the oil lamp that sits on your nightstand, the light basking the room in a warm, orange glow.

You are just making your way over to the door when the knock comes again. Straightening out your nightgown and taking a deep breath, you open it. 

Despite the darkness of the stone hallway, you recognize Aemond immediately. 

No, it‘s not just his chiseled face that gives him away, or the long silver hair that drapes over his shoulders. It isn’t the black leather tunic he wears, hugging his lean chest. It is the way he stands: the confident way he waits for you, chin high, strong and assertive. 

He’s too perfect, despite being one of the most imperfect people you know.

“Princess,” Aemond greets. His eye briefly looks you up and down before focusing on your face again. “Green suits you.” 

Your gaze flicks down to your nightgown — made from a beautiful silk and a deep emerald, decorated in golden floral designs. It was a gift from the Queen; even though you and Aemond had not married yet, she happily proposed that you start to wear the family’s house colors. You accepted, of course. 

Aemond’s compliment is so genuine that you don't know how to respond. You feel a sense of pride at his admiration. “I do not wear the color much,” you shrug, trying to sound unbothered. “But I will get used to it over time.” 

“You shall,” Aemond nods. He seems pleased. Pleased that you will become a Targaryen, that you will be dressed in the color of his house until the end of your days. It is a reminder that you’re his. All his. 

“My Prince,” you change the subject. “Might I ask what you are doing outside my chambers this late?”

“I have come to talk.”

You fix him with a blank stare. Talk? The last thing you want to do is talk. 

“Where did my guard go?” you ask slowly.

“I advised he take a walk.” 

You get a feeling that the conversation with your sworn knight did not play out that way, but this is your future husband; it probably would not be a good idea to go to sleep on a bitter note. Biting back a retort and a sigh, you open your chamber door and wave him in. Aemond struts in casually. 

He acts like he owns the place with how he stands directly in the center. You dawdle by the doorway, allowing him to observe the space: he takes in the fireplace, the golden decor, and then your bed, draped in silks and the pillows similar to the fluff of clouds. It’s a beautiful room, you must admit. You take pride in it. 

“You are upset about the tribute, I presume,” Aemond says finally, turning to face you. That eye of his is the perfect shade of violet; purple like a flowering bruise, unclouded and intense and determined.

“I am not upset anymore,” you lie. “I do not care.”

“You do care.”

“No.”

It is quiet for a second. Not a word uttered.

Then Aemond pries you right open. “You do.”

“Fine. I do.”

“And why is that, Princess?” He almost taunts.

You want to snap at Aemond — ask him what he means and how can he take something like this so simply. It is not a joke. A civil war is brewing among his family, yet he does not take it seriously at all. He even seems to take joy in participating. The idea has you seething.

Here Aemond is, continuing to pretend that he is harmless, that his touch is gentle, that his palms won't burn handprints into your skin. You would almost believe it if you didn’t know any better. 

“With all due respect, My Prince, Jace and Luke are my dearest friends. They are kind and loyal to me, as well as their family.” 

Aemond hums, uninterested. "A dog possesses the same traits.” 

An anger gathers within you. It screams right into your face: this is how it shall be and you will have to deal with it. 

“You are playing quite the jester today, My Prince,” you tell him. I would like to slap you across the face, is what you’re truly thinking.

Aemond lets out an amused huff at that. The light from the lamp in the corner of the room dances along his silhouette, illuminating every plane of his face. His hair is a white, jewel-drenched curtain — there’s the urge to run your hands through it. 

How can someone so gorgeous cause so much chaos? 

"I am exhausted," you finally sigh. You can feel how hardened your expression has become. “I am finished with miscommunications and arguments. I have tried to refrain from intense emotions and confrontations. The moment I entered King’s Landing, I told you that there was to be no drama. You promised me. And what you did at dinner? That is the trouble I stray from, yet you seem so content in dragging me back in.” 

Aemond’s mouth threatens to twitch into a scowl then. He’s trying to keep his face neutral, though annoyance peeks through the cracks in his façade. “You are acting as if jests are more harmful than stealing an eye.”

“I am not saying that. I am saying that if you are to be my husband, you should be shielding me from conflict. Not causing it.”

Aemond has nothing to say to that apparently. He just gazes at you piercingly, that one violet eye intently focused on you. You try to remain steadfast, although you do feel like shrinking under the chill of his stare. Somehow, you find the courage to continue. 

“If you truly respect me as your future wife — if you truly love me — then you would cease this petty game.” You steel yourself, begging yourself to be bold and ask the question. “Do you love me, Aemond?”

For a moment, you catch how Aemond’s face changes into one of surprise; he obviously was not expecting that question. It takes a couple of seconds before he fixes his jaw, training his expression into something more cool. Practiced. Poised. But then he looks at you; truly looks at you, stares you down from the inside out. “I should be asking you the same thing.” 

You freeze, almost shocked by the rebuttal. You can tell he is being serious: there is a sincerity with which he wants to know. 

Aemond may be wild and deranged like a dragon, thirsting for havoc, but he still aches for approval and acknowledgment. Always has. Perhaps that’s what he wants; he wants to hear that even though he fails at kindness and charity, you are still able to love him.

“Tell me,” Aemond demands. Before you can say anything, he strides forward until he’s standing right in front of you. He leans into your space, breath fluttering along your cheeks and voice almost threatening. “Do you love me? For my righteousness that drives you mad and for my lack in restraint that you so despise?” 

The fire inside Aemond could kill anyone in a five mile radius; he knows it. Yet he still wants you to love him, to bravely walk into the tempest. Locate him amongst each dancing flame.

“I will accept every piece of you,” is all you can choke out.

Aemond seems to mull the words over. His face is terrifyingly neutral as he observes you carefully; he must not know impatience. 

“You still never answered my question,” You blurt. “Do you love me?”

Tell me you love me, is what you really want to say.

Aemond’s face remains blank for a second.

Unbeknownst to you, he’s almost offended at the inquiry. After all the years you have spent together, all the conversations and the secrets shared and the plights experienced — how could you utter such a thing? He was the one who spoke to his mother about proposing to you. Do you really think he did it for political gain? To secure a higher seat in the ranks of royalty? 

Aemond almost sneers at your ignorance. “How much longer must we be together before you acknowledge that I am not doing this for power?”

“That does not comfort me, Aemond.”

Silence. Dead silence.

The lack of an answer from Aemond makes you worry: worry that you struck a chord within him, that you have irritated him enough for him to leave, that you have made him regret accepting you as his wife. 

But something changes. Slowly — agonizingly slow — Aemond takes both of your hands into his, like a silent vow without words. A white flag of surrender. His profile relaxes into something slightly softer, more reserved. 

At the end of the day, he is to be your husband. If you need comfort, he will give you comfort, even if it means he has to be vulnerable.

Just for you. Only for you.

“When we were children, you once accused me of not knowing the meaning of love," Aemond starts. "But you were wrong."

You begin to breathe faster, grateful he can only discern the the direction of your emotions and nothing more. Hearing those words makes you feel something; it flutters inside your lower belly and is comparable to hope. 

“I do not give a shit about anyone but you,” Aemond admits. His voice is low, deep, sincere. You almost cannot believe it. 

“Is that so?” You try to sound indifferent, but it’s not convincing. His face is so, so close: your noses are almost touching.

“I would not say it if it weren’t the truth,” Aemond hums. “I did not know how to deal with my affections before, nor did I accept them. You have tortured me into becoming someone I am not.”

Tortured?

“I don’t understand—“

“You are the sword I gut myself with; that, Princess, is love."

That’s it. That’s all you needed; that reassurance, that validation. Every single ache in your heart is extinguished in a single second, every wound healed, every internalized scar covered in gauze and bandages and the homeliness that accompanies love. 

More. You want him to say more. “…And you will continue to love me?”

“You are mine until death, my dear wife. I am your monster for the rest of time. I am your insanity. I am yours.”

“And me?” You whisper. You’re struggling to focus, trying to remember that you’re mad at him, but his lips are right in front of yours.

Your question nearly makes Aemond chuckle. He holds it back, a sharp exhale of air coming from his nose instead. “You are my refuge.” 

“Your refuge?”

“My refuge,” Aemond repeats, his expression more resolute. “I can envision no other peace beyond the one that exists when our bodies are bound.”

“And you prefer me?” You want to be showered in his love, again and again. “Over anyone else?”

“I would choose you over all,” Aemond purrs. His tone, his accent — you could crumple to your knees. "The world is cruel and it steals from everyone, so I shall do the same. I will take what I wish. I will take you every time you are offered.”

Goosebumps threaten to rise from your body. Aemond’s hand comes down to rest on your waist, causing your breath to come out as a stutter. You’re not sure how you haven't disintegrated into nothingness. “I have loved you forever, Aemond.”

A warmth akin to sunshine rises in his face and he almost looks humored. You need him. And he needs you, though he may not outwardly admit it; needs you like you’re oxygen and he's trying to catch a breath.

Suddenly, Aemond’s hand grabs the back of your neck and he pulls you in for a kiss. Your fingers fly up to grip his shoulders when your lips touch, opening your jaw for him on instinct. You grab a fistful of his leather tunic and kiss him as hard as possible, allowing his hands to conquer your body. He tastes of peppermint, smells musky like dragon. 

Everything seems to be on fire. The pit of your stomach, your blood, his mouth. All you feel is the strength of his silhouette against your own and you want to remember this forever. With how Aemond holds you so firmly — almost like you might disappear any second — you can tell he feels the same. You have the power to kiss away his suffering, his years of self-hatred, his doubts, and the crushed dreams of an irrelevant future that he always imagined.

Aemond’s hands roam to your lower back, thumbs digging into the silky fabric of your nightgown. You draw him closer, brushing your thigh against his crotch to get a reaction out of him. He lets out a ‘hmm’ into your mouth.

There is nothing you desire more than to examine Aemond in full view with all lamplights on and his clothing off, to have him slowly remove this gown from your body and take his time with touching every inch. You want to run your fingertips across the ridged skin of his scar and trace it all the way down. You want to feel the weight of him flush against you, wrapped around you. You want him. 

Finally, you draw away, only to whisper. 

“You said you would take me whenever I am offered. Take me then, Aemond.”

A fire alights in Aemond’s eye — he’s considering it — but the flames quickly freeze over with that sense of duty. Self-control. “Not like this,” he murmurs. “But I vow to treat you to obscenities when I bed you. I will leave such marks on your body that anyone you entertain afterwards will have to know me in order to know you.”

Aemond’s words have the ability to make you shiver. It only makes you more excited for your wedding day. Even then, you still want him in this moment. Need his presence.

“Stay with me tonight, at least,” you plead. “Just share the bed with me. Nothing else. I will bribe the guards tomorrow morning so we will not get caught.” 

Aemond considers you for a long while. Then, without a word, he smiles. It’s sly, yes, but oh-so beautiful.

“So you will stay?” You ask again. Aemond hums in agreement, cradling your cheek in a palm. It is a tenderness that you were not expecting, but one that you accept heartily. He nods his head before speaking.

“If you put your hand in mine, my dear wife, I will always hold it.” 

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond fic #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon x reader #hotd imagine #hotd fic #millie’s works — 📓

[itsswritten]

when the sea calls for three | 3

Pairings: Azriel x Reader x Eris

Words: 5.3K

<<Previous Part | Masterlist | Summary

Autumn Court

“She’s late!” Eris's voice thundered through the hallway, his steps echoing on the stone floors of Forest House. You remained composed, waiting patiently as you heard his approach. Knowing full well the fiery storm that would follow.

The doors burst open with a forceful push, and Eris entered into the room like a whirlwind, his expression a mixture of frustration and impatience. He opened his mouth to unleash a barrage of complaints, only to falter as he caught sight of you seated calmly with his mother, sharing tea.

There was that fire. A flicker of it anyway.

You were no stranger to the fiery nature of the Vanserra’s. Lucien had his own, but it was interesting how differently it manifested in them. 

Lucien’s heat was like a welcoming hearth, radiating warmth and comfort like a cosy fireplace. But beneath, lurked potential. His fire, always crackling, could easily spread if provoked.

Beron had always been like a volcanic eruption, spitting burning molten fury upon anyone who crossed his path with no warning or restraint.

Restraint was something you felt Eris had a multitude of.

He was different. His fire felt different. Always simmering, on the verge of boiling over but never quite reaching it. It was as if he had learned to temper his flames, dampening them in the presence of his father. Now, with Beron gone, perhaps that simmering intensity would finally have the chance to ignite into something new.

You guessed only time would tell.

Sensing the tension, Lady Autumn, Hestia, intervened with a gentle smile. "I must apologise, my son," she began, her tone soothing. "I simply couldn't resist stealing y/n away for a quick catch-up. Don't hold her responsible when it is I that is at fault"

You couldn't help but smirk, finding amusement in the sight of Eris momentarily caught off guard. His previous expression of frustration changed into something that bore indifference. 

As you and Lady Hestia rose to greet him, she enveloped you in a warm embrace, "We're all thrilled to have you here. Oh, how I wish your mother could see you now. She would be bursting with pride." Genuine love left those words. The mention of your late mother stirred a bittersweet ache in your heart, and you noticed how even Eris’ expression softened.

"I'll leave you both to it," Lady Hestia beamed once more, her gaze shifting between you and Eris with pride. “I believe the pair of you will do wonderful things for this court. Together.” She held one of your hands in hers, while her other rested gently on her son's cheek. Leaning in, her voice softened to a whisper. "I'm proud of you too, you know."

Eris's expression softened further at his mother's words, a mix of emotions flickering across his features. He had brought an end to it all—his father's reign, the tyranny that had gripped them all. For his mother, for his brothers, for his people. He had taken the ultimate risk, and succeeded. You knew if it was Beron that still stood here to today, he would have had no part in this new peace treaty. 

If not for Eris's courage, well, you wouldn’t be standing here in Autumn today either, ready to forge a new path forward.

Despite the poor reputation that often preceded him, you had always suspected there was more to Eris than met the eye. Beneath that hard molten exterior, you were sure a kindness lingered. 

A small flicker of a flame.

A rare spark you had glimpsed in your younger years– a quality that you knew came from Hestia. It was a golden thread of hope you clung to, that perhaps beneath all those hard layers, the real Eris would now reveal himself. 

That maybe he was more like Lucien than either of them would ever admit.

However, he made it all too easy to believe the opinions of others when he looked at you like that. His unreadable expression, stoic and yet fiery with eyes that harboured resentment.

Who were you kidding? This was Eris Vanserra.

Eris reluctantly led you down the winding corridors of Forest House. You’d forgotten how large this place was, how deep the levels went. Memories of your childhood flickered through your mind as you recalled times where you and Lucien had ran down these very halls. Eris hadn’t taken you to the lower levels, instead he showed you the way to the western wing on one of the higher floors. 

Eris halted before a grand oak door. With a subtle gesture, he swung it open to reveal the spacious chamber beyond. "This room is yours." Eris announced, his tone begrudging.

He could have just got a member of his staff to do this. You wanted to roll your eyes at him, but you realised he was trying. That perhaps years of pretending to be this evil heir to appease his father may actually take time to erase.

So you would give him a chance. As you were giving all the courts, it was only fair.

Stepping inside, you were greeted by the warmth of a crackling fire and the inviting embrace of luxurious furnishings. The bed, adorned with sheets in hues of burnt orange and chocolate. A sight that made you want to curl up on the sheets there and then, Autumn had always been cosy. A large ornate wooden desk occupied one corner, while a private washroom beckoned from the side.

You surveyed the space with a sense of amusement, a soft chuckle escaping your lips at the indulgent opulence. The quietness of the quarters enveloped you, the secluded area obvious.

Was he hiding you in this part of the house? You’d noticed how it was far from the heart of the home.

"Do I have this entire wing to myself?" you quipped playfully, your eyes dancing with amusement as you turned to face Eris.

Eris's response was matter-of-fact. "My quarters reside in this part of the house” he states plainly, his expression revealing a hint of reluctance.

Surprised by his choice, you press further. "You haven't taken up the High Lord's quarters?"

A moment of emotion passes over Eris's features as he shakes his head. "I don't want to displace my mother from the room she's spent centuries in. Plus, I have no desire to inhabit my father's spaces. This part of the house has always been mine."

You nod in understanding, appreciating his unwavering respect and love he’s always had for his mother. A quality all of his brothers had.

Although you assumed there was more to it than just a son’s respect for his mother. Were there areas of the house he didn’t want to go? Parts where his father’s presence still lingered. 

“It’s eerily quiet…” you raised a brow, stepping to look outside the large window onto the beautiful autumn scenery.

“It is.” Eris's voice held a hint of amusement as he joined you by the window, his gaze following yours to the tranquil landscape outside. “It's so I can hear you if you get up to any trouble. My chamber is only down the hall.”

Ah, how quickly the taunts came. How natural this felt despite it being centuries.

Familiar, teasing and warm. His words had always felt like that when he spoke to you.

“Always so paranoid Eris…but good to know you’re only down the hall should I need you” you replied with a hum, only to watch that glint in Eris’ eyes turn playful.

“And why would you need me, little mouse?” His tone was teasing, and the old nickname sent a wave of nostalgia washing over you.

Little mouse.

That pet name. One you had almost forgotten about. The name instantly transporting you back to a time when you did indeed feel like a little mouse beneath Eris’ fox-like smile. 

Did he remember too? That time you almost gave yourself to him… 

You were at a ball, where you had slipped away, seeking solace from the overwhelming social obligations and the awkward third-wheeling as your friends found their own romantic pursuits for the evening. In the dimly lit corridors of the grand ballroom, you sought refuge away from the echoing sounds of laughter and music. You leaned against the cool marble walls, tugging at the tight corset around your waist.

It was then that Eris's voice, smooth and dark, pierced the silence around you. "What is Lucien's little girlfriend doing out here all alone?" His presence had seemed to materialise out of nowhere, his figure looming closer as he prowled towards you with a predatory grace.

You had rolled your eyes at his predictable taunts, a hint of exasperation tingeing your tone. "Really, Eris, that joke is getting old."

You watched as he came to stand in front of you, his presence already warming you. And you weren’t sure if that was because of the fire in his veins or the effect he had on you. It was perhaps not one of your proudest moments, but yes you may have had a small crush on your best friend’s older brother. His cold exterior usually scared most away, but there was a warmth in his eyes that you hadn’t been able to ignore.

You couldn't deny that you often found your eyes searching for Eris during your visits to Lucien. It was a fleeting fascination.

"Then if you are not my brother’s... does that mean this little mouse is available for the taking?" His words dripped with dark humour, tone laced with a hint of something more. You felt your cheeks flush with heat, betraying any composure you had.

As he leaned in close, the proximity between you electrifying, you found yourself at a loss for words. You were never at a loss for words, but somehow in the presence of Eris you were. He looked like a fox ready to feast on you, and there was a part of you that was willing to let him. Maybe it was low inhibitions from faerie wine, or simply the desire to have someone’s attention that night, but you would have let Eris devour you.

But then as his stare took in your expression, his gaze softened for a moment. It was only fleeting, but whatever had crossed his mind was enough for him to abruptly pull away and head back into the ballroom.

The rejection tasted bitter in your mouth, and so you pushed that feeling deep, deep, deep inside of yourself.

Eris seemed to wet his lip with his tongue as if recognising where that name had taken you, and he was relishing in it. “I guess if the little mouse finds herself needing a comforting presence at night I’m not too far away. Maybe if you ask nicely I might even let you share my be-”

You smacked his arm hard, cutting off whatever inappropriate sentence he was going to finish with. This was your fault really, you’d opened the gates to this type of talk. But it was so familiar, you couldn’t help yourself. It was like you were 21 again with that stupid all consuming crush on your best friend's older brother.

Old habits died hard it seemed.

You weren’t 21 anymore though, and you wouldn’t crumble under his stare. He was watching you now, curious to know if he had gone too far but that soft smirk spread across your lips giving him the satisfaction he needed.

“Careful High Lord,” You mused “Careful.” and with that you turned “Come, we have work to do.”

You had given him your warning, and yet it very much felt like a challenge to his ears.

༄ 

You and Eris sat in his office, staring at the miniscule pile of submissions that had been sent in by his court. While Summer and Night's inhabitants had been perhaps overly forthcoming in expressing their thoughts, Autumn's court remained eerily silent.

You flicked through the handful of submissions, each one echoing the same sentiment: satisfaction with the status quo. 

They were reluctant to rock the boat. 

Eris let out a frustrated sigh, dragging his hands down his face in exasperation. "My father has instilled so much fear into the land that they're too scared to even present their problems," he muttered bitterly, his gaze fixed on the sparse pile of papers.

You took a moment to digest his words before speaking up. "But you are not your father, Eris."

He looked up at you, a glimmer of doubt in his eyes. "No, but to some, they consider me just as bad."

Why was it in the unspoken you truly heard him.

Am I just as bad?

Your heart clenched tightly at his doubts. "Then let's show them you're not," you suggested, your voice firm with determination.

Without waiting for a response, you stood up from your chair and walked out of the room, expecting him to follow. True to form, Eris hurried after you, his steps quickening to match your pace.

“Little mouse, I’m not fond of chasing.” Eris shouted, his voice echoing through the corridors of Forest House. You hastened your steps, keeping ahead of Eris’ footsteps.

As he caught up and grabbed your hand hard, pulling you to a stop, you couldn't help but notice the flicker of annoyance in his expression. "Looks like you chased me anyway," you quipped with a playful smile, glancing down at your intertwined fingers.

His hand was warm and firm, yet with a roughness that differed from the Shadowsigner’s touch.

Why were you comparing them?

You pulled your hand from his quickly, not giving yourself another moment to linger on how his skin felt against yours. “We need to change the narrative Eris, let’s meet your people directly.” 

Eris didn’t object, his gaze lingering on his hand for a moment before he scoffed, shaking his head. You could have sworn he wanted to smile. “You’ve always been so hard to say no to.”

“It’s because I’m always right” You sang, stepping out into the crisp autumn air, the leaves crunching beneath your feet as you made your way towards the nearest town. Eris following closely beside you.

The townspeople of Autumn seemed to scatter like leaves in the wind at the sight of their red-headed High Lord, their gazes darting away or pretending to be engrossed in their tasks. It was a reaction Eris had grown accustomed to, one that grated on his nerves more than he cared to admit. His stoic demeanour, a shield he'd always worn, now seemed to be the very barrier keeping his people at arm's length.

Approaching a farmer with a stall brimming with fresh autumn produce, you noticed the tension in the man's shoulders as he glanced nervously at Eris behind you. His wooden stand boasted an array of vibrant fruits and vegetables. "Could I buy a bag?" you asked with a warm smile, trying to ease the farmer's apprehension.

His response was tentative as he began to bag up some plump blackberries for you. "Has your harvest been good this week?" you inquired, attempting to strike up conversation.

He seemed hesitant at first to reply, but you introduced yourself with a small smile. Vaguely brushing over your new role, and what you, as well as Eris were setting out to do during this new reign of peace. The farmer rolled his shoulders back as if finding confidence. "I've been lucky… but some of the land has been struggling. There's a blight on some of the soil," he replied cautiously, his eyes still avoiding Eris's imposing figure.

"No one notified me," Eris interjected, his tone firm and harsh. But you knew there was an underlying concern that rang in his words.

"Apologies, your grace. With your father... may the cauldron bless him... he didn't like us to inform him of these issues, only to rectify them," the farmer explained, bowing slightly.

Eris went rigid, and you gave him a soft glare as if to remind him that he was supposed to be painting a new narrative here.

"I will send a harvest healer down to the farms. Please inform me if you come across such problems again," Eris instructed, his tone softer this time.

As the farmer passed you the bag of berries, Eris unexpectedly dropped a few gold coins into the man's hand, overpaying for the fruit. "Thank you, your grace," the farmer murmured gratefully before retreating.

Despite Eris's efforts, it was evident that it would take time for his people to see him in a different light. Coaxing more residents to open up proved challenging with Eris looming behind you, his presence an obvious deterrent. Determined to find a solution, you gently looped your arm through his, eliciting a faint frown and a subtle pull away from him. "What are you doing?" he grimaced at your touch.

Gods, you’d have thought you’d burned him with his reaction.

"Softening your image. Having a pretty thing on your arm won't do you any harm," you remarked with a playful smile, hoping to chip away at the walls he'd built around himself, one touch at a time. 

But despite how playful your reply was, your action was thought out. Having your charismatic smiley self on the arm of Eris, you hoped would sweeten his image, even just a little.

He merely rolled his eyes, his expression veering towards indifference, yet he didn't pull away. Your arm wrapped around his, drawing you intimately close, the warmth of the Vanserra male warding off the chill of the crisp autumn air. His scent enveloped you, a familiar blend of crackling fire, cloves, and cinnamon. 

Being this close to him wasn’t awful, a younger version of you may have even longed for this. 

Your plan had indeed worked. There was an undeniable charm in the sight of you hanging on the arm of the High Lord that seemed to thaw the reserve of the people, coaxing smiles and candid conversations from them.

The final stop for your visit was a bakery, one you remembered fondly from past visits. The sweet aroma of freshly baked goods wafted through the air, triggering a wave of nostalgia. "Please tell me you still have the pumpkin cream pie," you requested eagerly, your eyes lighting up. The baker's response was warm, and she quickly set about preparing one for you to take away. "You don’t understand how much I’ve missed this," you confessed, your excitement palpable. Eris had joined you by now, leaning casually against a nearby wall as he observed the interaction.

His expression softened as he watched you, the warmth of your personality radiating as you engaged with the baker. It was a quality of yours that had always drawn people to you, even from a young age. 

You had a way with words, a knack for always saying just the right thing. Whether it was to win an argument, gain the favour of opinion or uplift someone, the correct words always rolled off your tongue.

Pretty words from that pretty mouth.

Of course Eris knew the reason behind your charm, a secret he had long kept to himself. He knew of the abilities his little mouse possessed. 

He realised how long his gaze had settled on you, and it didn't escape his notice how the staff watched closely, some of them with a light tinge of pink covering their cheeks as they blushed,giggled and whispered between one another. In that moment, he realised the true power of having a ‘pretty thing’ on his arm.

Meanwhile, you were busy savouring the pumpkin cream, licking it off your finger with relish. "Gods, this is so good," you exclaimed, your smile infectious. But as you glanced up, you caught his unreadable gaze, and a hint of concern flickered in your eyes. 

Had you been too casual? Falling into this familiarity with him had felt so natural that you hadn’t even considered if it was maybe a tad unprofessional. Not that there would be anyone to reprimand you, but you did want to succeed in this role.

Swallowing, you decided to steer the conversation back to business. "I think this approach worked," you remarked, attempting to gauge his reaction. He was still looking forward as you both walked back to Forest House. "They were quite forthcoming with concerns once we got them to open up. There are a few areas I feel as though I'd be able to support." But his face remained inscrutable, as if he were pondering something much weightier.

Then, unexpectedly, he spoke, halting your steps in their tracks. "I want you to help me find a wife," he declared, his tone serious.

The request caught you off guard, though in hindsight, perhaps it shouldn't have. After all, he was the High Lord, and finding a suitable partner to rule his court with, and of course produce an heir, would be a natural priority for him.

"Of course, Eris," you replied, your tone as composed as you could manage. 

Why had the notion left you so uncomposed?

He smirked then softly ��You were right about having a pretty thing on my arm. It worked…Plus it’s probably about time.”

You paused for a moment, your own lips spreading into a smile at what he had said. A younger version of you would have relished in this, being called ‘pretty’ by him. Perhaps, there was a version of you now that enjoyed it too.

"I'll begin looking into potential suitors for you right away." You decided to say, not trusting your usual snarky remarks.

“You can even look for those outside of Autumn, to help with your peace treaty and alliances or whatever. No one from that bastard Night Court though.”

You nodded with a soft chuckle. He had given you an olive branch. A martial alliance would be a great addition to this new era of peace.

Things were falling into place better than you had expected.

But beneath the surface, there was a pang, a feeling you couldn't quite decipher. Something you didn't dare acknowledge even to yourself.

༄ 

Dawn Court

Dawn had been the easier of the four courts to manage, with Thesan being your own High Lord. You had both arranged an in-person meeting for his people to gather and discuss their concerns in the flesh.

During Amarantha's reign, Dawn had stood steadfast in protecting its borders, thanks in part to your efforts. Reflecting on that time was hard, it brought back a mix of emotions and memories, ones you liked to leave in the depth of your mind. But the duty to defend your home had never sat comfortably with you, yet it was a responsibility you willingly shouldered. As a result, you had earned the admiration and affection of your people. 

It was ironic how once some of them had considered you and your family as outsiders, but now they revered you, often laying flowers at your feet. Pressing gifts into your hands and singing your blessings when you walked the streets. The praises and gifts had quietened down since the conflicts, but you often found a bouquet of flowers at your front door, or were stopped in the streets to be embraced.

Despite the concerns shared by all of Prythian, Dawn exhibited a sense of optimism amid the lingering apprehension about border openings. Morale remained low, and safety remained a paramount concern, but there was an obvious excitement about the prospect of travelling between courts. They wanted this new peace treaty to succeed, and they were willing to help in any way they could to change that.

For two days, you assisted Thesan in managing the affairs of Dawn, aiding him in delegating tasks and prioritising court matters. As the sun set on your final night, you retired to your townhouse nestled in the heart of the city. 

As you slumped into your living room, the sound of a deep voice filled the space. "And she finally finishes," the voice chuckled warmly.

Lucien, Jurian, and Vassa were sprawled across your couch and armchairs, making themselves at home in the space you had graciously offered them for their gatherings when they were in Prythian. They had a manor in the mortal lands, but you opened your home to them for when they needed to be more inland. 

You greeted them with a smile, leaning down to plant soft kisses on Vassa and Jurian's cheeks in greeting, before turning to Lucien. You passed him a small box, with a slice of Pumpkin Cream Pie inside. It elicited a chuckle as he picked up the slice.

“Oh you treat me so well doll.” he smirked, before devouring the slice in a few bites.

"So, have you not been on the continent?" you asked, finding your place next to Lucien and propping your feet up on his lap as you sank back into the couch.

You were utterly exhausted.

The first few weeks of this you had anticipated to be tough, but the amount of work was somewhat excessive. And it would start all over again tomorrow. The cycle repeating. Summer, Night, Autumn, Dawn.

"We were, but these two insisted on seeing you, and for the upcoming week, it's easier for them to be among the solar courts," Lucien explained with a shrug.

Vassa offered a small smile, though her discomfort at using your home without you was evident.

"Don't worry about it," you reassured her, waving off her concerns. You had known what she wanted to say within the unspoken. "My home is yours to use as you please. Besides, I'm hardly here these days anyway, so please, make yourselves at home."

With that, Jurian flashed a grin, sauntering over to your nearby trolley bearing a decanter filled with amber liquid. He quickly poured four glasses, passing them around.

“So, give us the rundown,” Jurian inquired, his gaze shifting between the two of you. You exchanged a glance with Lucien; you hadn't even had time to correspond with him this week, a reality you believed would continue. Tilting your head slightly, you encouraged Lucien to go first, while you sipped on your drink. The alcohol instantly warming your throat.

That was exactly what you needed after the long week.

Lucien began to list the concerns and events of his week, there was a clear similarity across Phyrthian you noticed. Morale was low, and people still felt divisive. Despite the unity forged in the war, that comradery hadn’t seemed to extend. Lucien gave your sock-covered feet a playful pinch, causing you to recoil them from his lap with a feigned glare. "Your turn," he quipped, prompting you to take the floor.

You ran them through your week, highlighting the issues and developments you encountered in the courts you were managing.

"You've opened up trade agreements for Summer, got Night to agree to a school, and are on the hunt for marriage suitors for my brother... Jeez, what else?" Lucien summarised with a scoff and eye roll.

"We can't all be as good as me, Lucie," you retorted, playfully nudging him with your elbow.

"Eris didn't give you too much of a hard time, did he?" Jurian asked playfully, his tone laced with familiarity.

It was nice to see how close Lucien had gotten with Jurian and Vassa, especially since his friendship fell apart with Tamlin. Lucien deserved this, deserved a circle.

You let out a nonchalant hum, absentmindedly playing with a strand of your hair. "You know, Eris isn't all that bad..." you trailed off, your thoughts drifting.

"Maybe not with you... He's always had a soft spot for you," Lucien interjected, shaking his head with a knowing look.

You playfully kicked your foot against his thigh. "What's that supposed to mean?"

A knowing smirk tugged at Lucien's lips. "You know exactly what it means. He's just always been softer with you."

You rolled your eyes, recalling your recent interactions with Eris. Soft was not a word you would use to describe him—perhaps playful or teasing, a little mean even, but not soft.

"What were the infamous Inner Circle like to be amongst?" Vassa interjected, redirecting the conversation.

"Fine, polite, worked hard," you replied, feeling Lucien's subtle fidgeting beside you. You knew the question he wanted to ask but didn't dare. "She wasn't there; I haven't met her yet," you added softly, referring to his mate.

You watched as your friend glanced down at his drink from your words, his usual witty exterior faltering for a moment. Lucien hadn’t indulged you in the finer details of what had transpired between him, Elain and the Shadowsinger. What had caused Elain’s abrupt withdrawal of contact from them both, but the strain it had on him was obvious. 

The one thing Lucein had shared, was that she hadn’t outright rejected the bond yet, you hoped that was some glimmer of something worth holding onto. 

Your fingers moved instinctively, reaching out to gently press against your friend's cheek. His eyes fluttered shut momentarily at your touch, before you playfully pulled on his cheek with a tug. "Get out of that pretty little head of yours, Lucie," you teased, tapping his cheek once more.

The touch had pulled his mind back to reality, as he swore under his breath and smacked your hand away. 

"Gods, you fae are so complicated, with all your complexities, bonds and relationships," Jurian quipped, his tone laced with amusement. You couldn't deny he had a point. Whether politically, platonically, or romantically, there always seemed to be layers upon layers, it’s what was making your new job all that much harder.

"Oh like you humans are any better." Lucien retorted quickly, there was a playfulness in his tone as he sipped on his drink.

"I'm sure if everyone got together and shared some drinks, we'd all be fine," Vassa added, as she raised her drink in the air. The liquid sloshing in her glass.

"Yeah, why can't we all just get shit-faced and go dancing or something? Nothing bonds people like a shared hangover," Jurian grinned.

The room filled with laughter as Lucien remarked something about the last time Jurian was hungover, Vassa quipping in. Your thoughts left you for a moment as they drifted to what Jurian had said.

Getting drunk and dancing had always been a release you’d loved, one shared by most fae and humans. Perhaps one the the few similarities you all shared. And although "getting shit-faced" wasn't the most elegant phrase, the sentiment behind it rang true.

“You two are actually onto something there…” you spoke, the words leaving your lips as your idea formed in your mind. You’d sat up now, looking at Lucien who only frowned at you.

"I'm pretty sure we can't arrange for everyone to have a huge piss-up," Lucien remarked dryly. “As much as I’d love it, it doesn’t feel very…appropriate.”

"We’re obviously not going to organise some sleazy boozer” you rolled your eyes at him.

“Shame.” Jurian piped up.

“But we can arrange a ball.” You smiled that dangerous grin that you knew Lucien found hard to ignore. “Phyrthian’s first ever Peace Ball” you continued, coining the term there and then.

Lucien leaned back into the couch, still looking at you as he digested your words. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek, perhaps figuring out logistics for your outrageous idea. 

But slowly that fox-like grin you loved so much spread across his lips.

He put his glass up in the air “A fucking Peace Ball…”

You quickly raised your glass with a chuckle, Vassa and Jurian raising theirs too. 

Trade agreements, a school, diplomatic martial arrangments and now…a fucking Peace Ball. Lucien had made the right call bringing you on board; there was no one more convincing, more persuasive in all of Prythian. You and your pretty words would bring peace to this land, even if you had to force it upon them.

“Cheers!” 

Next Part >> coming soon.

a/n: Decided to post this early, sorry again if it's a little boring, just trying to set everything up. Would love to know what you think so far. How are you expecting this story to unfold? Is there anything in particular you're hoping to see with the story/characters/relationships? Would love your input <3 - Lottie

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