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erospandemos · 2 months

Text

Some things never change

NewJeans Danielle x Reader

Where Danielle tries everything in her power to make you understand her feelings

Beta-reader: @leafostuff

You had known Danielle Marsh all your life, from when she was just a little kid to now that she's a fully grown adult, although her height kind of stopped halfway. You met her in the first days of elementary school. She must have looked weak to the other kids with her two missing teeth, thin legs, and pale complex, so a group of rascals started messing with her.

They would call her all sorts of names with their limited word knowledge, mocking her with gestures and weird sounds. They'd also push her around or make her trip and fall. Even though their mind was still limited, they already had a knack for bullying.

You happened to be around her when you witnessed one of those scenes. All it took was a slap and a threat and the kids fled away. It was just a normal thing for you, as fights were very common at that age but for Danielle, you were her saviour.

"Are you okay?" you asked her worryingly.

Amidst her sniffling, Danielle managed to reply, "Those bullies were teasing me. But you made them go away, so thank you."

You felt a bit bad about her. Her eyes were so red from crying and she kept rubbing her eyelids to dry those endless tears. "Don't worry Danielle. They will never tease you again. I'll always be here for you," you reassured her, not knowing what kind of promise you were making.

What followed were days, weeks, and months of annoyance. Danielle followed you everywhere you went, pestering you from the morning to the afternoon—always talking, always joking, always asking.

"Thank you for helping me!" she told you. "Jinyoung hasn't been mean to me anymore! I love you!"

You were annoyed. You let her talk and kept walking, "He was just being an ass. It's nothing special."

She began to be your shadow, a silent companion seeking solace. A girl looking for a friend, or at least that is what you and she thought. There was already something present in her heart but you just didn't know it yet. But kids learned quickly.

It was a random day in April when she made her first move.

"My parents taught me that I should hug the ones I love. Can I hug you?" Danielle asked you, her eyes earnest and pleading.

You were caught off guard but still nodded hesitantly. You opened your arms and she stopped closer, embracing you tightly. She found comfort in your warmth and kept you there close to her. You didn't know why she did that but you liked it too.

Then a couple of months later, you were invited to her house. You and her parents got to know each other and figured it would be a good occasion for you two to bond together. At her house, there was a very nice illustrated book for children. The kind to have small but enormous sentences. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement when she brought it out from her desk to show it to you.

"It's a story about a prince who married the princess he saved. Don't you think that it's so... cool?" She said, her eyes wondering between dreams and fantasies.

"Yeah, I guess," you replied. You didn't fully grasp the implication of the tale. You just liked the drawings.

"You saved me from the bullies, just like the prince. Maybe... maybe we could get married someday?" Danielle confessed, blushing.

You chuckled nervously, still oblivious and clueless.

Things also got more complicated when she caught you talking with a girl from your class.

"Who's she?" Danielle asked, laced with jealousy.

"Oh, this is my friend from the class, Seo-yeon," you introduced her, unaware of her stern demeanor.

"Well, she better not try to steal you away from me!" she declared, pouting and crossing her arms.

You laughed nervously again, not understanding what she was trying to say, and apologized the poor Seo-yeon who was receiving the possessive gave from Danielle.

That was more than ten years ago. But now that you were both grown up, things didn't change at all.

You're reading the book you've been saving up for weeks, finally free from the exam season of college. It's been a relaxing day, as it's been the first full break you could take and you decided to just replenish your energy by doing nothing all day. The day was good outside but you didn't feel like going out at all.

But you did not know that the outside would visit you instead.

A too-familiar figure barged into your room, with a familiar voice and force. "Hey! Your mom said I could come in. Hope you don't mind," Danielle exclaims.

You look up, surprised. You have to bid goodbye to your book because there was no way she would've left the house now.

"Uh, hey. No, not at all," you say, recollecting yourself. Looking around, you could see the mess the room was left in but after all the times your friend had seen, it wasn't much of a problem. You just left it as it was.

Danielle approaches, her grin widening as she eyes the book in your hands. She lowers her head and reads your title, not because she is interested, but because it could be a potential reason to tease you.

"What fascinating world are you escaping to today?" Danielle asks you.

Before you can respond, Danielle snatches the book away, dramatically flipping through the pages, not a word passing through her eyes.

"It's a great book, you know," you say before she can judge you. But that wasn't her intention. Danielle tosses the book aside and, with a sly grin, moves closer to you.

"Boys, your age don't really stay in their house all day, shouldn't you go outside?"

You raise your eyebrow. "What are you trying to say?

She clears her throat, "Well, you know, all boys go around picking girls, shouldn't you be interested in girls too? Especially me..."

"Books are interesting enough," you say, annoyed.

Danielle sighs heavily and slaps your shoulder. "You really don't get it do you...? Whatever," she says, "But do you know what's even more interesting than books?"

Without waiting for an answer, Danielle wraps her arm around you, pulling him into an unexpected side hug. You, visibly annoyed and embarrassed, squirm from the surprise and try to claw out of her grasp. But it just gets tighter. "Danielle, seriously, what are you doing?" you stutter.

Danielle chuckles, enjoying your annoyed remarks, and lets her other arm get you too.

"Just playing with you."

You try to pull away, but Danielle persists.

"Can we not do this right now?" you say. Danielle rolls her eyes and sighs before releasing you.

"Oh, come on. Just having a bit of fun," she says, pouting.

She playfully pokes your cheek and laughs.

"This is ridiculous."

Danielle seizes the opportunity and leans closer, circling your thighs. "You know, a little embarrassment never hurt anyone," she says and eyes you up and down, locking her eyes with yours. "Besides, you're kinda cute when you're flustered."

You groan, covering your face with your hands. "Why are you doing this???"

She laughs, finally satisfied, and lets herself fall on the couch. "You know," she speaks truthfully, "there's something about you that's just too irresistible."

"Yeah, you aren't the only one."

Suddenly, you feel Danielle's intense gaze on you. "Who else is teasing you? Girls?"

"Sometimes?"

"Oh, that's not good. They have to know you're taken."

You raise an eyebrow. You don't sense anything good coming. "What are you talking about now?"

"I was thinking, maybe I should leave my scent on you. You know, like marking my territory. That way, other girls will know you're taken."

You blink repeatedly, utterly bewildered.

"Leave your scent? Danielle, we're not animals."

Danielle chuckles.

"Just imagine it – you walk into a room, and everyone's like, –Oh, they smell like Danielle. They're off the market!–"

"You've been watching too many nature documentaries."

"Shut up and come here."

Danielle snuggles closer, her energy warming the room and your body. You feel her arms quickly wrapping around your body and her legs tangling into yours and before you knew it, she was already spooning you. After all these years of doing so, she has gotten quite good at it. "You know, you really should loosen up. It's just a cuddle between old friends."

You shift uncomfortably, a bit against her although her lively insistence was stronger than your will. "Danielle, seriously, we're not kids anymore. We can't just... cuddle like this."

She tilts her head, studying you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Come on! Don't be such a grown-up. We used to do this all the time when we were kids. It's nostalgic!"

You sigh, giving in a bit. "Yeah, but things are different now."

Danielle was a slim girl, petite. She felt small although you were the one under her grasp, and her limbs were delicate and fragile. She felt small but soft as well. She was an adult now, and her touch made your heart beat faster, in a way it never did.

Danielle grins, unphased. "Different doesn't have to mean worse."

"But seriously," Danielle says with curiosity, "you used to be the one initiating these cuddle sessions. What happened to that fearless little kid?"

You blush, a rare occurrence for the reserved you. "Well, things change. People change."

Danielle's eyes soften, and she nudges you gently. You can smell her perfume and it calms you. "Change isn't always bad, you know."

You can't help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. Danielle, her head still nestled against your shoulder, can't resist the opportunity to tease you. "You know, I always thought you were the bravest little knight in our little adventures when we were young."

You raise an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "A knight, huh? I'm not sure I see the resemblance."

Danielle chuckles, tracing imaginary patterns on your arm. A soft red starts to appear on your cheek. "Oh, please! You were my protector, always ready to face imaginary dragons and monsters. What happened to that fearless warrior?"

"Well, maybe I outgrew the knight phase."

Danielle leans back, looking at you with a sly grin. "Outgrew, or maybe you're just afraid to admit that deep down, you still have a bit of that brave knight in you."

You roll your eyes, but a small smile lingers on your face.

"Did you remember when I told you I'd be your princess? I still mean it you know?" she says, as if it was nothing.

You realize the meaning of her words and can't fathom any response, and Danielle can't help but enjoy the gentle blush that colors your cheeks. She teases you further, "You're blushing, Mr. Grown-up. Who would've thought the mighty knight would be so easily flustered?"

You mumble something incoherent, avoiding her gaze.

That was typical of you and your friend: constant teasing and joking. But you knew you wanted something more from her and you were just running around, trying to avoid it. One day, however, it finally came to you, knocking at your door, and you had to face it head-on.

You hear a loud frantic knocking on your door. The sudden noise surprises you and you get slowly, weary of who might be on the other end. The knocking doesn't stop and you look into the peephole. To your surprise, it wasn't a killer coming for you but it was your friend, Danielle, and from the looks of it, with her disheveled hair and tired eyes, she wasn't looking so good. You open the door and she bursts inside your apartment, drenched from head to toe, dripping water everywhere.

"Whoa, Danielle! What happened to you?" you exclaim.

She shakes herself like a wet dog, sending droplets flying, and brushes her wet strands away from her forehead to look at you in the eyes. "Caught in a sudden downpour. I practically swam here!"

You chuckle and walk to the bathroom. "Don't move!" you tell her as you go grab some towels. You don't want her wetting the whole house as well. "Well, you certainly look like you went for a swim."

Danielle takes the towel, but instead of immediately drying off, she shoots you a mischievous grin. "You look quite excited about seeing me, don't you?"

You raise an eyebrow and look at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

Danielle pretends to inspect her soaked clothes with exaggerated concern, scanning her shirt, and her skirt. She opens her arms and invites you to look at her clothes. "Oh, no. I think these clothes might be see-through now. But I'm sure you already noticed. I can feel you glued on me."

You immediately understand what she's trying to say. You roll your eyes and grow. "Danielle, come on. Don't be ridiculous."

She smirks, wringing out her hair over the towel. "Ridiculous? Or am I just giving you a little peek? You know it's fine. I didn't tell you not to look."

You blush, trying to play it cool. "You're impossible. I'm lucky it's just the two of us. Otherwise, I might get in trouble." You hate to agree with Danielle, but it was impossible for you not to notice her figure, perfectly feminine, perfectly grown, and perfectly beautiful. You gulp loudly and stare at the wall.

Danielle giggles, sauntering over to me with a playful twirl of her wet hair. "Well, I can't let you miss out on the view, can I?" She laughs again as you shoot a quick sideeye at her. "Oh, did I catch you looking again?"

"Come on! No, I didn't."

Danielle comes closer, she's having fun, too much fun. She sways her hips, brushing your chest, leaving wet handprints on your shirt and looks at you with such a teasing smile that you couldn't do anything but blush and back intot he wall. "Oh, don't look away, baby."

"Danielle, cut it out," you stammer, my cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.

She leans in, her voice dropping to a sultrier tone. "What's the matter? Don't tell me you're not enjoying this."

You try to look away, but Danielle continues to playfully tease you. Then she laughs, finally satisfied.

"Okay, okay, I'm just messing with you!" she confesses, wiping away a tear of laughter. "I couldn't resist seeing you squirm."

You sigh in relief, but your embarrassment lingers. "You're unbelievable, Danielle."

She giggles while running away.

You go to your room to pick up some clothes for her, unfortunately you got nothing else to give her but your own clothes. You try the smallest size possible, so at least she wouldn't have to swim in them. You smell them first, to make sure, she won't be annoyed by an unwanted smell, then think if she'd feel cold or not—the house was quite warm on the inside. You knew she always liked to wear shorts, so you get a pair and a shirt and sweater to match.

You hand her the clothes, "Here, these should be more comfortable than wet clothes."

Danielle, takes them and smiles brightly. "Oh, I didn't know you were such a considerate boyfriend," she says. You start blushing but this time she's blushing too between her creased cheeks. You chuckle nervously, dismissing the comment.

"It's nothing," you say and then point the bathroom. "You've already been here before. Go change there or take a shower if you want."

"I'll just change, thank you. Don't peek at me though, okay?"

"What are you saying? Of course I won't," you reply.

She grins and runs into the bathroom to put on your outfit. It doesn't take her a while before she emerges wearing your oversized hoodie and shorts, her hair slightly toused. You have to admit, she looked adorable. The way the hoodie was way too big for her, and how the shorts let you peek at her legs, it was amazing.

It almost looked like she was your girlfriend, and she knew it too.

"Look at me, wearing your clothes," she says, raising her arms. "It's like we're in some romantic drama."

"It's just because your clothes are wet. Don't read too much into it."

Danielle continues, batting her eyelashes dramatically. She looks at you with wide eyes. "You've never offered me your clothes before. Are you sure you're not secretly seeing me as your girlfriend?"

"Don't be ridiculous. It's just clothes," you say, but her words can't leave your mind. You almost agreed.

"But these clothes smell like you," she says, taking a sniff at it. You blush brightly. "Am I stealing your scent now?"

The situation looks absurd and you're getting more and more flustered but still, you had to keep your cool. "Don't overthink it."

She bursts into laughing and jumps into the couch. "You're so cute when you deny things. Maybe I should keep wearing your clothes more often."

Trying to hide his embarrassment, you manage a weak smile. "Sure, Dani, make yourself at home."

You and Danielle keep joking around until something starts to bother your friend. She looks at the sky, more precisely at the rain, as it runs down the window, and her smile starts to fade.

Danielle turns to you and her face drops into a malinconic gaze, her eyes are half there, they're thinking about something else, but you feel the weight on you. "You know, I'm starting to feel like a fool," she says with a sigh.

You blink, taken aback by the sudden intensity in her tone. "What do you mean?"

Danielle paces the room, her agitation pouring out with every step. "You've known for ages how I feel about you. I've dropped hints, practically spelled it out, and yet you never do anything."

Bewildered, you look at her. You couldn't lie to her, you wish you could say you never realized it, but you did. You did know she was flirting with you and you did hear what she told you, clearly and explicitly. But you didn't want to accept it, you didn't want to believe it. "I... I don't realize you feel that way. I think we're just really good friends," you say and truly, you didn't think a girl like her would have any serious intentions behind her smile.

She halts, turning to face you, frustration etched on her features. "Really good friends? You and I spend hours together, we share our deepest thoughts, and I've been giving you every possible sign that I like you. How do you miss it?"

You stammer, attempting to find the right words. "I don't think... I mean, I think you're just being friendly. I never imagined you feel something more. I thought you were just messing with me."

Danielle sighs."That's the problem. You never imagine. You never consider the possibility that my feelings might extend beyond friendship. I've been dropping hints, practically shouting them, and you remain oblivious. Did it ever go through your mind?"

You run a hand through your hair, frustration mirrored in your eyes. "I never mean to hurt you, Danielle. I just... I didn't see it."

Her eyes narrow, the pent-up frustration reaching its peak. "That's precisely it. You don't see it. You never see me. It's like I've been invisible, and no matter how much I hint, you never make a move."

Danielle's words knock the air out of your lungs. You've never seen Danielle this riled up and it hurt you to know you were the cause. You take a moment to trace back your words. Have you ever imagined a life with her? Have you ever wanted to have her to yourself? Have you ever desired her?

The answer was yes. You think deeply if it was fair for you to say that only after she basically begged you to acknowledge her, but it was true, you did like her and you didn't know you were allowed to.

Danielle takes another deep breath, attempting to compose herself, but the frustration continues to spill out. "I've liked you for so long. I think you might feel the same way, but you never make a move. I've been stuck in this limbo, unsure if you even see me as more than a friend. It's driving me insane."

Your eyes soften, a mix of regret and realization settling in. "I didn't mean to make you feel invisible, Danielle. I've just been clueless, and I'm sorry if I hurt you."

She shakes her head, her frustration giving way to a sense of vulnerability. "It's not just about now. It's about all those moments before, the missed opportunities. I can't keep waiting for something that might never happen."

As Danielle's words linger in the air, a heavy silence envelops the room, punctuated only by the sound of rain tapping against the window.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Danielle," you begin. "I've been so focused on convincing myself that you couldn't possibly feel that way about me, that I never stopped to consider how you might be feeling. I'm sorry for not seeing what was right in front of me."

Danielle's gaze softens, a mix of frustration and hurt still lingering. "You're not off the hook that easily. You can't just apologize and expect me to believe you."

You nod. "You're right. I messed up, and I can't change that. But I can be honest with you now. The truth is, I've been afraid. Afraid of ruining our friendship, afraid of facing my own feelings. It's not an excuse, just an explanation."

Danielle raises an eyebrow and folds her arms. "Afraid? You?"

You chuckle wryly. "Fear doesn't always make sense. And I guess I've been scared of admitting that I like you too."

Her eyes widen, she's surprised "You do?"

You nod, your vulnerability laid bare. You hope you didn't make a mistake but you couldn't hold it in, it was now or never. "Yes, Danielle. I do. I've liked you for a while, but I never thought you could feel the same way. I convinced myself it was just a dream."

She tilts her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "So, Mr. Fearless finally admits he's not invincible."

You grin, the tension between you starting to dissipate.

Danielle steps closer, a playful glint in her eyes. As the rain outside continues its rhythmic dance, Danielle takes your hand. "No more hiding, okay? Let's figure this out together."

And for the first time, you hug her first. Your hand gently pulls her and she lets herself go, straight into your arms. You hug her softly, but with passion, with happiness. Danielle does the same, for the first time, not to tease you and not to try to make you fall in love because for once, she knows in her heart you truly love her.

THE END

Written, 16 February - 22 February 2024

#Kpop #Kpop fluff #newjeans hanni #Newjeans #Danielle #newjeans danielle #Danielle fluff

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landorris · 2 months

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popular | lando norris x fem! reader

summary; who says instagram models don’t know a thing about f1?

fc; darianka sanchez

warnings; english is not my first language, this is my firts ever smau

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yourusername

liked by friendsuser, danielricciardo and others

yourusername: back in ny for a bit ⭐️💋

user1: she’s so mother

frienduser: come home i miss you😕😕

yourusername: ik i miss you too, it’s just for this week 😖💞

user2: who is she and why is daniel in her likes?

user3: she’s an instagram model from australia, oscar and her have been following each other for years now but we don’t know if they’re friends

user4: isn’t she a bit young for danny?

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lando norris phone

your phone

lando norris had followed you on instagram

you followed lando norris on instagram

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, lando norris and others

yourusername: finally home

user1: you’re so coquette coded

user2: lacy

user3: not lando joining

user4: lando norris what are you doing here?

user5: idk what they see in her

landonorris: you like bows?! i also like bows what a coincidence

yourusername: ahah so cool norriz

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danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, landonorris and others

danielricciardo: home race was alright 🦘

tagged: yourusername

yourusername: i’m so cool😎

danielricciardo: i got payed to post that photo

yourusername: all i see is lies👩🏽‍🦯

user1: MOTHER IN THE PADDOCK

user2: i want a win

user3: what is she doing here?

user4: i hate when f1 teams just invite this instagram models who know nothing about f1 instead of inviting people who actually like it

user5: right?! she probably doesn’t even know how many drivers are in f1

landonorris: good race mate🙂

danielricciardo: you two lando, wonder why🤭

user6: what is this supposed to mean?

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yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, frienduser and others

yourusername: damn i wish my dad taught me more about f1 🫤

tagged: aussiegrit

aussiegrit: damn you should’ve spent more time in the paddock with me

yourusername: yeah, it’s not like i went to ALL of your races

danielricciardo: now everyone knows im besties with your dad

yourusername: no you’re not

aussiegrit: come to dinner tonight daniel

danielricciardo: see!! i’m going mark 😁

user1: now i understand why is she so beautiful

user2: this explains a lot about her relationship with daniel

user3: OH SHE ATE THIS

landonorris: 😦

yourusername: what?

landonorris: text!

yourusername: kay

user4: not lando discovering with us😭😭

user5: she gagged that girl in daniel’s post

user6: i want your dad 🤭

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your phone

yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others

yourusername: last few days at home before japan

danielricciardo: you’re coming to japan?

yourusername: yeah! i got invited

danielricciardo: and why am i only hearing about this now?

yourusername: i only got the invite today

danielricciardo: he’s cooking 🧑🏽‍🍳

user1: who is stealing my gf?

user2: is it lando

user3: guys hear me out i think it’s lando

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lando.jpg

liked by yourusername, aussiegrit and others

lando.jpg: japan🇯🇵⭐️

user1: are they……soft launching?

danielricciardo: i wonder who it is on the second picture

user2: still don’t like her

user3: they think we don’t know 😂

user4: ladies we lost him

user5: he posted her, man is in love

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others

yourusername: i think i like japan

danielricciardo: i knew you would change your mind

user1: can he fight?

aussiegrit: have fun kiddo!

yourusername: i love you dad💞

user2: yeah it’s defensively her

user3: are they dating ?

landonorris: i think i really really like japan too

user4: never beating the norriz allegations

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#formula 1 #f1 #moodboard #cars #grand prix #aesthetic #mclaren #orange #lando norris #f1 smau #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #driver x reader

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moronkombat · 6 months

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Take your time I don’t wanna to rush you. Can I please request Syzoth having a lactation kink . Seeing his s/o breast full of milk and feeding their child , it’s so new to him . His eyes having a puppy look when he’s sucking his s/o’s breast.

Also I really hope you get better , your illness is almost gone , right ? Or am I wrong . Have a great day

tw: pregnancy, afab anatomy

Syzoth was already very unfamiliar with the intimate human anatomy. What he knows what largely taught to him by his partner or self exploration

Everything about humans so...soft and warm. Their skin smooth and so easy to bend and bruise. That inner heat so mind numbing that Syzoth often found himself drunk off the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his cock

He could fuck you for hours upon hours, cumming inside of your needy pussy again and again. He just can't help himself. Why would he ever pull out of such a warmth?

Well, such things have consequences but Syzoth was well aware of them. Perhaps that also why he so keen on finishing inside your cunt?

Of course, he is thrilled to hear you've gotten pregnant. Syzoth could want for nothing more! Well, at least, that's what he had thought

Syzoth is very keen with the changes in your body. Hips seem wider and breasts are...engorged and so very plump

His own species does not provide the...natural sustenance for their offspring and so, Syzoth does not even think that a possibility for the child you are carrying

My my how mistaken he is. Watching your body begin to mature with pregnancy has him feeling rather carnal with his desires once more

Sex is very common when you're pregnant and seems to get him rather riled up if not wild

Imagine his surprise when his hands grope and squeeze those tender and heavy breasts that something different seems to happen

Warm and smooth like honey but so pearly white. Syzoth is shocked and naturally curious

A languid tongue that's forked on the tip wraps around a most perked and teased nipple and the taste of it is something no words or thoughts can describe

Syzoth may only babble out words of how good it tastes and how he wants more

Your lips stutter out his name but soon all you can do is moan as he beings to latch himself to your oh so sensitive breasts

You can't seem to pry him from your chest. He will cradle himself there so tender and sweet for what seems like hours

He's greedy, incredibly so, as he suckles from you. All the while he ruts against you, desperate in so many ways

When your baby is born Syzoth is almost a bit jealous to see them latched onto your breasts

He'll stare and think of how fond it was to taste such a lovely treat

Syzoth need not worry, however, when you've put your beautiful newborn baby to rest he'll be swift to consume all of you

There are many wicked thoughts of keeping you pregnant so that he may always indulge in such a precious drink

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat fanworks #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat headcanons #mk1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat smut #syzoth x reader #syzoth #syzoth smut #syzoth x you #tw: pregnancy

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lazycats-stuff · 7 months

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Hi! Could you do a Batfam x teen reader, where the reader does illegal street race, he sneaks out at night to go those race, and the Batfam found out about it !

Thank you ;)

I sure can do!

Summary: (Y/N) races illegally. The family doesn't know.

Warnings: illegal racing, (Y/N) is skilled, Bruce is mad, Jason is impressed, Damian is proud, Bruce is just done,

(Y/N) loved his dad and he often shared his interests with him. He also shared everything with his brothers. But he was harboring a secret that he couldn't tell anyone. He loved cars, which was not a secret to his family.

What was the secret?

(Y/N) raced illegally. Bruce knew that (Y/N) loved cars, but what he didn't know is that (Y/N) knew how to drive. Bruce had plans to get (Y/N) his license when he turned 18 years old, but when he was so young?

Not happening, at least in Bruce's eyes.

However, (Y/N) had an important night tonight. Last time he was on the track, a cocky bastard thought that he was better than him. (Y/N) gladly excepted.

If there was one thing that Bruce has taught him that he uses everyday, it's the fact that you should fear a person who doesn't brag about his skills. You can easily beat someone who brags. But the one who is silent?

Yeah, that will be a much more difficult task. H

Now he had to make a plan on how to sneak out. He had to wait until they went on patrol and until Alfred went down to the cave to make sure that nobody sees him.

He took his phone and looked into the hall. Alfred went into Bruce's office a few minutes prior, so he must be halfway down. (Y/N) took the opportunity to quietly walk to the garage. He tapped his pocket for the car key, checking to see if his favorite car key was in there.

That car is his baby and he would be damned if he didn't use his favorite. Bruce bought him this car last year and (Y/N) took great care of it. He cleaned it, washed it and took it outside to drive, but only in the property boundaries.

Now it was time to beat that shit head.

(Y/N) sighed in relief as he parked the car. He walked through the crowds, just enjoying the energy. It was just free, no stress, but it was also buzzing with excitement. Usually there were friendly races and talks about upgrades on your cars.

Tonight, it was a race with (Y/N) and the shit head who challenged him. (Y/N) still remembers how he first started. Everyone was nervous to have a Wayne kid, thinking that he wanted to get on the top with a snap of his fingers.

But (Y/N) kept his head down, was humble and respectful towards everyone and he showed his skills to everyone and he proved himself. He became very well liked and he made a good friend here, named Aaron.

" Hey (Y/N)! " Aaron said loudly to drown out the chatter of the other people. " Are you ready for the race? " He asked, smirking as (Y/N) pushed him away.

" Of course I am. " (Y/N) answered, accepting a water bottle from Aaron.

" I still can't believe somebody is so stupid. " Aaron mused to himself, shaking his head. (Y/N) is the best racer here and the fact that somebody new is so dense to think that he could beat him so stupid. Of course, (Y/N) is not invincible and unbeatable, but new people are often warned that (Y/N) is the best racer here.

But that doesn't stop people from challenging him. (Y/N) never hated being challenged, in fact, he loved it. No matter who it was, (Y/N) liked the challenge. Only if they aren't cocky and obnoxious about their skills.

The shit head is obnoxious beyond belief and there was nothing that could change (Y/N)'s mind. Absolutely nothing.

" Did you check the car? " Aaron said as they turned back to walk back to the car.

" I did. Yesterday, I didn't have a chance to do it today. I can't let my dad know what I'm doing. " (Y/N) confessed to Aaron who nodded in sympathy.

Aaron and (Y/N) are good friends and (Y/N) confided that this secret was a big burden on him. He didn't tell him about their night jobs of course, but he did tell Aaron that his dad has a very set moral standing. Of course, nothing is black and gray, but he would be mad if he found out.

" I know, but lets check it now. John should be somewhere near by to check it. "

John is (Y/N)'s mechanic and his mentor in a way. He took (Y/N) under his wing when he has first arrived here. John loves his job more than anything and has admitted that he sees (Y/N) as a son. The two had a very strong bond and they both cared about each other.

" Hey son. " John said, looking at the car. (Y/N) said hey back and gave him a quick side hug.

" How is the car looking? " Aaron asked, walking up to the duo.

" She looks good. Very well taken care of. Good job. " John praised, popping the hood open. (Y/N) smiled to himself, happy that his mentor was pleased.

" The engine looks good. I want you to wipe the floor with that shit head. " John said, closing the hood down.

" Yup. I heard him bragging. " Aaron said, groaning after seeing the shit head move through the crowd towards them. " And he is coming here. " Aaron said and John frowned at the shit head.

" Here is the famous Wayne. " He said, getting into (Y/N)'s face.

" Yup. I would suggest that you step away from me. " (Y/N) said, raising his chin. He level him with a bat glare that Bruce taught him. The shit head stepped back. " Now, if you are here to brag about your non existent skills, go back to wherever you crawled out of. " (Y/N) said and the shit head huffed.

" Go back to your car and get ready. " Aaron said, leading (Y/N) to sit in the car. The shit head moved, his groupie following him.

" If you don't wipe the floor with him, you are going to be in trouble. " John threatened (Y/N), glaring at the stupid kid who was walking away to his car.

" I will wipe the floor with him. " (Y/N) confirmed.

" Good. " Aaron muttered, shaking his head.

(Y/N) laughed as he stopped the car. He won by a landslide and he proves why he is so good. He got out of the car and hugged Aaron tightly.

" You did it! Ha! Take that you ass! " Aaron yelled at the shit head who walked off.

John congratulated (Y/N), giving him a hug. There was cheering and clapping and (Y/N) smiled. This felt nice. This is what he loved about this place.

" I knew you would do it. " John said, patting his back.

Everything felt nice.

" The police is here! "

Now that is not nice. Everyone scrambled to run away, but (Y/N) froze as he heard a familiar rumble of the Batmobile. Oh dear God no. Shit. Hell no. Not happening. Nope. This is not good.

" (Y/N) we have to go. " Aaron said, pulling him with him.

" Leave me. I will hold them off. " (Y/N) said, shaking his head. Aaron and John looked conflicted, but nodded when they saw the look in his eyes.

Turns out it wasn't the police, just Batman and the rest of the family. (Y/N) took a deep breath as he watched the Batmobile come to a stop. At the moment, (Y/N) was scared.

What were they going to say?

His dad stepped out of the car, in his suit, Batman persona on.

" Hey dad. " (Y/N) said sheepishly.

" Please don't tell me you are racing illegally. " He said and (Y/N) looked away.

" Oh no. " Bruce said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

" Do you at least win? " Jason asked as he walked up to (Y/N)'s car.

" I do. " (Y/N) said, eyes still locked on the ground.

" That's my brother. " Jason smiled underneath his mask.

" Good. You would be a disgrace to the family otherwise. " Damian piped in out of nowhere.

Dick sighed, shaking his head. " (Y/N), that is very dangerous. "

" And what you lot do isn't? " (Y/N) retorted, finally finding some strength to talk back.

" And what do you think Tim? " (Y/N) asked. He just looked at the car, then back at (Y/N).

" I mean, you really aren't hurting anybody. You are smart and you know how to avoid trouble. You know how to not get hurt. " Tim explained and Bruce sighed.

" Okay. We are going to have a talk after we all sleep. I'm going to say something that I will regret later. (Y/N) in the Batmobile, Dick you are driving his car. "

(Y/N) wanted to protest, but was silenced with a glare from his father. He sighed quietly as he went to the Batmobile. This is going to be an interesting conversation.

#dc x male reader #dc comics #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #jason todd x male reader #batman x male reader #batkids #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #nightwing x male reader #dick grayson x male reader

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paper-mario-wiki · 4 days

Note

transfems can be women but you are not, you're an agp

(i actually blocked the original person who sent this and then resent it to myself on anon to keep the presentation fitting since i would like to share my perspective on this anyhow. here's what i would have said to this straw-man argument-haver if they weren't already blocked!)

TL;DR: you're wrong with both of the things you asserted in your statement. 1) i am not an AGP which is because 2) AGP's are exactly as much of a woman as i am.

what meaningful categorization could you put on someone to fit the description of "autogynophile" that precludes them from womanhood without inherently being contradictorily transphobic? "it turns them on to think about being vaginally penetrated" yeah i bet a lot of cishet woman fantasize about that too. "they only changed their identity because they like being a lady so much it helps them get off" okay? and? this is not a categorization which is inherently predatory, so who cares? gender is, irrevocably, an invention. it's a farce. it's nothing, we made it up, that's the whole point of agreeing that people can change it if they say they want to.

drawing a social line by the physical distinctions of "do they have penis or the other one" is as arbitrary as separating people by right handedness and left handedness or the eye color they were born with. the social expectations, behaviors, and woes are a consequence of the fact that everyone has been taught "this is just how it is, and it makes you different in every way, and this is how it's always been, and this is how it'll always be", same as the way people keep using fiat currencies (the US dollar for example), despite them being backed up by no singular tangible thing in any way that matters, aside from the word of the person who controls it.

and sometimes going along with that stuff is fine! i mean not the money, but the other one. the gender one. i like to be called a woman, while also knowing that "woman" is an invention. "pretty" is also an invention, and i love to be called that. "sonic the hedgehog" is an invention that people talk about using the same verbiage they use when describing real, tangible, breathing creatures, despite the fact that sonic the hedgehog exists conceptually and not physically (not including physical representations, which are not the same thing).

i think agp's are also women. if i could read someone's mind and they said "hi im a woman" but i knew they were thinking "im actually a man" i would still say "hello woman" because they might as well have given me their name for all the difference it makes in how we interact moving forward. if someone has no intention or probability to harm themselves or anyone else, i couldn't care less.

all that being said, you're wrong with both of the things you asserted in your statement. 1) i am not an AGP because 2) AGP are exactly as much of a woman as i am. it is a meaningless category coined by bigots and only given credibility by people with bigoted views.

#anon #transphobia

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retroellie · 7 months

Note

Have you thought about something to twisted games but reader reveals that noone has ever went down on her and darl wants to be the first and only one to do it?

Summary: Daryl is surprised to hear you had never been gone down on... He wants that changed immediately

A/N: I've been dead again I know, but y'all I'm in college now, and lemme tell you... I'm so tired of writing essays :( i needed a break from them and college life so have this :) also, the gif looks goofy as hell... it's the first time I've made a gif on my laptop lmao

Warnings: Cunnilingus, pussy-eating, fingering, some dirty talk

Word Count: 2.6K

It had been a lazy day today, at least as lazy as it could get in the apocalypse. You had woken up and helped out with gardening while Daryl went out on a small run with Michonne but then you had both met back at your shared home. You had come home first and you weren’t there long before you were in the shower. That’s where Daryl had caught you, he didn’t think you would mind if he joined you. It was an innocent shower. Surprisingly, Daryl helped wash your hair and he allowed you to wash his back gently as you didn’t want to hurt the scars lying there, as if they would hurt anymore.

The relationship was new, like 2 months. You guys were still finding things about each other, like his scars. You hadn’t known about his abusive childhood or the scars that reside on him, not everyone knew. You found out only a month ago when you guys first had sex, you had been underneath him, feeling him quite literally stretching you open. You had run your hands down his back and felt the raised scars, at first it didn’t register what had happened but you had suspicions. Then after, you were laying in bed watching him get dressed and that’s when you saw them.

You kept quiet about it, not wanting to upset him but you knew. So everything was just new to y’all, it was all so exciting and nerve-racking. After your shower, you both took a long much-needed nap. Daryl had his head buried in your chest as he literally laid on top of you. You loved how comfortable he had gotten with you, he was once cold towards you and would barely touch you or let you touch him. Now he was always on you and he always craved your touch.

When Daryl had woken up though he had gotten a little too needy, walking you up with kisses along your neck as he pressed his knee against your cunt. You had woken up pretty fast, the pleasure coursing through your body and making your body heat up. So now here y’all were, Daryl tongue fucking your mouth as you sleepily bucked your hips into his leg. It was pure heaven at that moment.

It all had been normal enough, nothing new simply because Daryl didn’t want to be too rough with you, especially after being so laid back all day but soon his kisses had trailed off down your neck. He made his way down your chest, then your stomach, then your thighs. You were quick to push him off, not trying to freak him out but you were confused as to why he had his face down there.

“What are you doing?” You asked, confusion reeked through your comment.

Daryl squinted his eyes at you, sitting back on his knees as he shared your confusion. He thought maybe you had been kidding or maybe you just didn’t want to do that right now, maybe you just wanted to dry hump him and then fall asleep once again.

“What does it look like I’m doing…” he chuckled, hands settling back on your thighs but he stayed sitting on his knees.

“I don’t know… that’s why I asked.” You threw back at him, it sounded mean but you were really just confused.

You hadn’t been with many people, you weren’t too experienced. Maybe 2 partners at least and one of them you only had sex once with. You didn’t know much about sex and honestly, Daryl taught you a lot within the month you guys had been going at it. He taught you how to position your mouth while giving a blow job so you don’t choke, how to roll your hips instead of bouncing yourself when riding someone, how to rub your clit teasingly while touching yourself because it makes you cum better and most importantly how to speak up in bed, demanding what you wanted and communicating that towards him. You knew what these things were, you just had to be taught it. But this… whatever Daryl was trying to do was new to you.

“Has no one ever gone down on ya before?” He asked, watching as your face contorted into more confusion as if that was possible. “Ya know, like ate you out?”

You shook your head, considering the fact you had never heard of these terms or had anyone face level with your cunt like Daryl had just done, you probably hadn’t. The thought made Daryl kind of upset, Daryl had remembered the first time you had openly admitted to having your first orgasm with him so he shouldn’t be surprised. In all honesty, he hasn’t been too big of a fan of your ex-boyfriend.

Daryl had met him, he was some college motherfucker who was still in his annoying “drunk college frat boy” era even at age 25. He was annoyed by him but so intrigued by you, he was intrigued by the fact you were with someone like that asshole. What upset him was how your ex-boyfriend used to fuck you, as creepy as it sounds, Daryl would listen to y’all. Not that he had much of a choice, you both had been neighbors to him in almost every location you had stayed in.

He could hear your fake pornographic moans as you pretended to cum, it was obvious but your boyfriend at the time only cared for himself. It was always the same position too, you had told Daryl this after y’all had gotten together. It was always super vanilla and you would never cum, ever. Daryl could tell your ex-boyfriend only cared for himself, in bed and out. That’s how he ended up dead in the first place, he ran off while you were stuck in a hoard only you had someone to save you… Daryl. He ended up getting caught by the hoard later on, but Daryl didn’t even think to go find him.

Daryl knew of your inexperience but this… this was simply unacceptable for him. The thought of you never getting eaten out, never having your pussy eaten out nice and right like you deserved, created a deep desire within him. He wanted to make you scream, wanted to edge you until you were begging to cum, he wanted to make sure his name was carved onto your tongue for the rest of your life but for now, on this lazy day, he was okay with just allowing you to slowly come undone on his tongue.

“Do ya trust me?” He asked, rubbing soft circles on your thighs as he spoke.

You did trust Daryl, with your entire life. It just made you nervous especially when you didn’t know what he was trying to do. There were so many things you didn’t know about yourself, your body was almost completely foreign to you so you weren’t sure what you liked quite yet. You did know you wanted Daryl to make you feel good and if he thought this was a way to do it, you would let him.

“Of course, I just don’t know what ‘going down on you’ means…” You stated, throwing up quotation marks with your hands as you quoted him. Daryl just chuckled, slightly pushing you down but it was more like he was guiding you to lay back down.

“If you stop talking and just let me show you…” he said, pecking your lips once more before he slowly once again kissed his way down your body. “Just trust me, that’s all I’m asking bunny… You know you can always just tell me to stop if you don’t like it.”

You let out a soft moan as he left soft love bites on your chest, leading them down to your core once more. You decided to just let him do what he needed, you knew if you ever felt uncomfortable Daryl would stop almost immediately. You kept your eyes on the ceiling, a bit embarrassed by his face being so close to your cunt, it felt more like a gynecologist visit than sex but you decided to let it get better.

Daryl trailed his kisses down to the inside of your thighs, kissing them one by one as he trailed higher and higher until his nose dug into your clothed pussy. He gasped as his nose hit your clit, swollen and soaked as he chuckled at your reaction. You threw your head back, biting your lip to hold back your moans, which honestly were quite embarrassing since he had yet to even touch you. Daryl sucked on the inside of your thigh, allowing you to feel his nose rub against you as he left a hickey.

He selfishly wanted to keep this moment going, wanted to tease you and see how even the littlest amount of touch made your toes curl. He decided to stop his teasing though because if he was honest, he felt eager to taste you. He kissed your love-bitten thighs once more before poking his head out from underneath you.

"Can I take these off?" He asked, hooking his finger underneath the band of your underwear.

You nodded your head, your eyes still on the ceiling as you were too embarrassed to look into his blue eyes. Daryl had noticed this, noticing your hands on your stomach as you scratched at it. In other words, Daryl could see you slowly going crazy at the feeling already.

"Hey, bunny..." He grinned, reaching up to grip your chin to look down at him. "It ain't gonna be fun if I can't see them pretty eyes..."

You managed to peel your eyes away from the ceiling and finally look at him as his hand rested on your chin. You smirked, murmuring a soft "sorry" as you watched him retract his hand and place it back on your thigh. He opened them slowly, as wide as you were comfortable with.

"Good girl... just stay like that for me hm..." He whispered out, his hot breath against your clothed cunt.

He smirked up at you, hooking his hand underneath your underwear before sliding them down your legs. He was soft with it, running his hand along your leg as he took them off so slowly you thought you were cum just then. You watched his every move with wide eyes, watching him get back into the position he was before. He could've warmed you up but he couldn't handle it anymore, so he dove in.

He was soft with it at first, and the kitten licked your clit as he rubbed up and down your slit. This action made you want to close your legs subconsciously, the action so sudden and quick your body tried to reject this foreign feeling. Daryl kept your thighs open though, one hand on your thigh as the other massaged your slit. You moaned softly, having a hard time making eye contact with him.

You knew right off the bat this was going to be a problem for you, you knew you would not be able to look at his lips or tongue the same anymore. You knew he would be kissing those lips more than he would your actual lips, but Daryl was completely okay with that. Daryl continued his soft actions until he felt you would go insane if he didn't speed up.

He slowly started licking up your slit, teasing your opening with his finger and sometimes sticking his tongue in just to hear the high-pitched moan you would make. Daryl made sure he didn't miss a single spot of your cunt, making sure he was licking up every single drip of you and allowing it to rest on his tongue as he tasted the sweetness of it. He couldn't explain how good you tasted to him, it was as though he was starving for so long and he finally got a taste of the sweet food he's been missing out on for his entire life. It was addictive.

"Fuck... Daryl..." You moaned out, your voice box already giving out as you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the sheets.

Daryl just smiled at your reaction and decided it was the perfect time to shove his 2 fingers in you. He knew you would not be able to last very long, and he was okay with that for now, obviously, he would definitely work your tolerance up to it soon enough but now he was okay with being your first. Daryl wanted to make sure you would never forget this moment like he did with anything when it came to pleasuring you. He wanted to make sure if a younger or more handsome dude came around, you would know who fucked you the best.

Daryl started a slow pattern on your clit, soft kisses followed by kitten licks and then sucking on it before he would slowly rub it with his thumb. It was a crazy pattern, very sporadic, but it was his way of trial and error, seeing which technique made your toes curl the most. So far, you seemed to really like when he sucked on it softly so he made sure to do that the most. He continued his abuse, feeling your walls close against his fingers as it became harder and harder to finger fuck you.

"Fu... dar... I'm... c...fuc..." You could literally not get a single word out of your mouth before a moan would hit you.

Your toes were curled, your mouth agape as you're back arched up until your head was thrown back into the pillows. Daryl started to push his fingers in and out of you at a medium speed, not wanting to overwhelm you too much, and his mouth began to suck softly on your clit. He could tell you were on the edge when your moans turned to screams, feeling your walls tighten even more.

The tight coil in your stomach finally snapped, cumming onto Daryl's fingers with a scream as you shook violently. Your thighs wanted to close around his head but Daryl kept them wide open. daryl fucked and sucked you through your orgasm, feeling your walls contract against his long fingers as you're juices flowed down them. You couldn't stop moving, you're squirming became unbearable and that's when Daryl decided to stop his movements.

He pulled his fingers out of you, stuffing them in his mouth. You watched him in amazement, a new sheet of arousal dripping from your swollen cunt. Daryl made his way back up to you, seeing how sweaty you had become. Daryl smiled down at you with his soaked face, holding himself above you. He popped his fingers out of his mouth before leaning down to kiss you.

You could taste yourself on his lips, it was almost nauseating as everything became too much for you. You ran a hand through his hair, pulling it slightly as you melted into the kiss. Daryl had to physically pull you away from him so you could breathe, he loved how needy you had become. You were so unsure of it at first and now you had fallen in love with it, fallen in love with him even more as he was the one who opened you up to it.

"You liked it huh?" He spoke, pushing some hair out of your face as it stuck to your sweaty forehead. You nodded aggressively, "liked" was an understatement. "Knew my bunny would... Do you need anything, hun?" He asked, slightly concerned at your rapid heartbeat.

You just bite your lip, pulling him into another kiss before pushing him down by his shoulders. He knew what you wanted, he knew you wanted him to go down on you again and he wasn't the one to turn that down.

"Needy little thing huh?" He chuckled as he kissed down your body once more.

"Less talking and more going down on me" You joked back, watching him place himself back in the position he once was in.

"don't gotta tell me twice darlin," He grinned up at you before diving back in.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x reader

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criminalamnesia · 1 year

Text

Dancing With Our Hands Tied

summary: Nikolai confronts you about unspoken feelings.

warnings: fluff, no use of y/n, not proofread, no gendered pronouns used (that I know of), grisha!heartrender!reader

author’s note: dancing with our hands tied by taylor swift inspired this! also listen I love zoya and nikolai but nikolai is just sooooooo ksjfjsjs I wanted to write a reader insert for him.

—

What you had with your captain was something no one understood– not even the two of you.

Sturmhond– or Nikolai, as you knew him in secret– was your friend. Your captain. But he was also something more.

He was a rogue ship, and you were a lighthouse guiding him home. He was a dangerous sea, threatening to drown you if you tested your luck– and oh, how you were so close to seeing what would happen if you did.

You shouldn’t even know his true identity. But, as fate would have it, he needed a heartrender with a specific set of skills that you just happened to have, and you needed an escape.

You were his tailor– disguising his appearance and turning him into the infamous Sturmhond. That was the only reason you were allowed to see him without his mask– you were the one to put it back together.

“You’re not surprised?” He had asked you the first night your services had been requested.

The ginger hair of Sturmhond had faded. The crooked nose had straightened, but the same smug grin was still present.

“No,” you had said. “I know that heartbeat. I knew it was you a mile from your ship.”

That took him aback. How did you know his heartbeat?

You had laughed, your eyes twinkling with something he found mesmerizing. He didn’t know you– he was sure of it. He wouldn’t forget a face like yours.

One of your hands was on his shoulder, holding him still. The other roamed his face, fingers dancing across his skin as you worked.

“You’re staring,” you stated, your fingers moving to his messy blond hair. “Trying to figure out how I know you?”

“Yes,” he admitted, eyes watching your face intently. “Were you at the Little Palace?”

You nodded. “I was.” The blond of his hair started to turn red. “But I spent most of my time in the Grand Palace.” You paused, your hand leaving his shoulder to move to his chin, tilting his head to the side. You could hear his heart beat a tad bit faster.

“The Darkling gave me to your mother, as he did with Genya. I was her apprentice. She taught me how to tailor.” You told him.

“I didn’t suffer the same fate she did, if that’s what you’re wondering. Your father had eyes for her, not me.” You couldn’t help the bitterness in your voice. Nikolai flinched.

“You were rarely home– but I met you once, when we were both still small. That’s why I know your heartbeat. The only one of the Royal Family to have a good heart– not a sour one. It stuck with me, I guess you could say.”

“I don’t remember you,” he admitted, and you gave a small laugh. His blond hair was almost completely red now.

“I wouldn’t expect you to. You’re not the only one being tailored, Captain. The First Army can’t take me back if they don’t recognize me, now can they?”

“Are you listening?”

Nikolai’s voice broke you from your thoughts. He was sitting on the bed in his quarters on the ship. You stood between his knees, your hands on his face as you changed him back into Sturmhond.

“Mhm,” you hummed. You weren’t. This routine was something you could do in your sleep, and truthfully, you found your mind drifting off more and more whenever Nikolai required your assistance. It’s not that you found his company dull– quite the opposite, actually. But you didn’t want him to know that.

“No you weren’t,” he gave a small chuckle, one of his hands moving up to grab one of yours. He pulled it from his face as he intertwined your fingers.

“Nikolai,” you hissed, pulling your hand from his grasp. “Do you want me to mess up? I was in the middle of reforming your nose.”

He sighed, his hand falling back to his lap as you raised yours once more. You avoided his eyes, knowing you wouldn’t like what you saw in them.

Between the two of you, he was the more open with his feelings. For the past few weeks, he had continuously tried to corner you and get you to talk about whatever the two of you were. To try and figure things out. You had successfully avoided him thus far, but you knew you were dancing on thin ice.

It was only a matter of time before he recruited one of the twins to subdue you while he forced you to listen. You wouldn’t put it past him, and you knew for a fact Tolya would help him. Curse that hopeless romantic.

“You’re insufferable. And exhausting,” he told you as you grasped his chin gently between your fingers, turning his face this way and that to examine your handiwork.

“I know. You tell me quite often,” you remarked, nodding to yourself as you moved to focus your sights on his hair.

He sighed. Silence engulfed the two of you. It was almost smothering, full of unsaid words and the tension between the two of you. You were suddenly aware of how close you were to him– his knees caging you in as you stood between his spread legs. His face in your hands, his hands now on your waist.

“We keep dancing around this,” he said. You didn’t reply, choosing to focus more intently on the roots of his hair. “The whole crew thinks we’re sleeping together.”

That caught you off guard. You gave a snort, rolling your eyes. “Of course they do. You call me to your quarters in the night, every week. You always stare at me, especially when you think I’m not looking. And you’re handsy– you’ve always got a hand on my back or my shoulder or something.”

Nikolai chuckled. “Well, you’re one to talk. Every time you laugh at something I’ve said, you grab onto my arm and go ‘oh Sturmhond!’. And don’t act like you don’t stare, too.”

“I do not say ‘oh Sturmhond’,” you said, looking down at him. He grinned that same crooked smile.

“I know you’re thinking it. Probably thinking some other things, too. Like how you’d like to–”

“Shut up, or I’m going to give you a black eye.” You hissed, pulling his hair harder than you should’ve.

He laughed. “You wouldn’t. You like my face too much.”

“Im sick of it, actually,” you remarked. “I see it everyday.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be here.” He replied.

“You say that as if you’d let me leave. I’m the only tailor you’ve got.”

He shook his head. “That’s not the reason I wouldn’t let you leave, and we both know it.”

You dropped your hands as the last of his blond turned red. Your job here was done. There was nothing stopping you from bidding him goodnight and excusing yourself to your own cot. You knew he would drop it and let you go without another word, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. You didn’t want to say anything.

“So now you’re keeping me prisoner?” You said, suddenly all too aware of his hands squeezing your waist.

“Maybe I am. At least until you admit you like me,” he said, and you scoffed.

“If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t be here–” you began, but he cut you off.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

He moved to stand. You tried to step back, but his hands on you kept you rooted to the spot. You looked up at him, heat rising to your cheeks. Your chests were touching now, and there were only inches between your lips and his.

“When are we going to stop playing this game?” He whispered, one of his hands moving from your waist to brush a strand of hair from your face.

“You like it too much to stop.” You retorted.

“I’d like honesty more,” he said, and you shook your head. “As much fun as playing cat and mouse is with you, I’m growing tired of chasing. And we both know you’re tired of running.”

His hands were on your hips as he swung you around the deck, a laugh on his lips as you clung to his shoulders. You couldn’t help but smile as he dipped you, your eyes meeting his. There were unspoken promises in his gaze– too many feelings, and you had to look away.

Others danced around you two as a few of the crew played some song you’d never heard on makeshift instruments. Laughter and conversation made it hard to think straight. Spirits were high– you’d all just succeeded in breaking through a Fjerdan blockade– and that called for a celebration.

“They’re all going to think we’re together,” you had told Nikolai as he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the dance floor. He had laughed, leaning in close to whisper “let them” in your ear.

He had kissed you for the first time that night, after the party had subsided and everyone was asleep but the two of you. You had been talking quietly, watching the stars and listening to the waves, and he had kissed you and you had melted.

“Nikolai..” you sighed, your hands moving to rest on his shoulders. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“I don’t care,” he told you, and his heartbeat was as steady as it had ever been.

“I do,” you told him, meeting his gaze. “You can’t play pirate forever. What happens when you go back to Ravka, back to your family? You can’t marry me. I’m nobody– not a princess, not a diplomat. I’m an escaped servant who knows too much and would be imprisoned or executed for escaping.”

“Privateer,” he corrected, and you rolled your eyes. “And I’m the second son– a bastard second son. I’m already a disgrace in their eyes,” one of his hands moved to the small of your back, his thumb rubbing circles into the fabric of your shirt. “I can’t disappoint them any more than I have.”

“It doesn’t matter what they think of you now, they still won’t let me anywhere near you.” You replied, and he shook his head.

“Why are we even talking about this?” He asked. “We’re not in Ravka. We’re in the middle of the ocean, and no one cares what we do.”

He was right. You were far from Ravka and his family and your pasts. You were someone new, and he was, too. You weren’t an escaped servant– you were Sturmhond’s first mate. You were his most trusted friend– besides the twins– and you were the one he wanted.

And you wanted him, too.

“I don’t care about details,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t care about families or consequences or rumors. I care about you, about that little smile you always get before you win at cards, about how you let me drag you onto the dance floor while the crew stares, and how you put up with me more than you should.”

You didn’t say anything, too stunned for words.

“I would do anything,” he began, his face slowly inching towards yours. “To dance with you again. To kiss you again. To not hide behind stolen glances and little jabs at each other.”

“Nikolai,” you murmured, your eyes flitting down to his lips.

“Yes?” He asked as your eyes found his once more.

“Just shut up.” You said, and you closed the gap between the two of you, your lips meeting his.

Maybe nothing he said would be true in the morning. Maybe he would realize this was all a big mistake, but you didn’t care.

He was right. You were tired of running, and you were so glad he was tired of chasing.

And as you kissed, that heartbeat that you’d remembered after all these years– that you’d always remember– soared.

And you knew he wasn’t lying.

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pinkthrone445 · 2 months

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-"You are my miracle"-

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:Soft, fluff, fluff, fluff, FLUFF

Warnings:I don't think so

Summary:The kids decide to put together a fake wedding for you and your girlfriend Melissa on Valentine's Day.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone, sorry for not writing something longer, but I thought the day deserved something sweet and cute.

Six months, six months it took Mel to get to know you completely and open up to you. It took her a year to finally accept that you were girlfriends. Six more months to move in together. And it took her just a minute at the right time to realize that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with you.

Melissa Schemmenti was a determined woman, she had tried a lot of things and she knew what she wanted and what she liked and what she didn't. Marriage was something she had tried before and she was pretty sure she didn't want to go through it again. That's why a couple of years ago she had broken up with Gary, she knew what she wanted to and he wasn't going to convince her of changing her mind.

A year after that, you arrived at school, a new transfer teacher, a new energy in the place, and a new love in the redhead's life. You came like a typhoon, dragging everything in your path, including her heart.

The redhead didn't expect to fall in love, she didn't want to, but it happened, it happened so fast that she didn't even notice it until you were already oficial girlfriends.

Mel felt something with you that she hadn't felt in a long time, comfort. Love is not about who turns your life upside down, love makes you feel comfortable, happy and at peace, and that's exactly how she felt with you. You never demanded more than she gave you, you respected the limits she had, you were sure and determined about what you wanted, you didn't let yourself be managed by others, you were perfect for her.

There were a lot of things that you and Mel had talked about from the beginning, not to marriage, but yes to children and moving in together, no to mommy king yes to costumes and role play, and a lot of stuff more. You wanted to get married but she didn't, so you adapted. She moved in with you even though she loved her home, compromising her part. Love was to give the best of both parts and that's what you did, neither of you gave 50-50, yours was to give one hundred percent each other.

This was the third Valentine's Day you spent together, you usually didn't do many things for that special day, you went home and did a movie marathon with your favorite snacks, but this day, something at school changed everything.

Mel taught a grade of third-graders, you taught second-graders, when kids are that young, their curiosity is through the roof, each thing they learned generated more questions and more curiosity, they wanted to know and experience everything that was possible as quickly as possible. They had recently found out what Valentine's Day meant, they had also found out that you and Mel were a couple, which made their imagination work and somehow convinced you and Mel to do a fake Valentine's Day wedding in the school gym.

The children planned everything and handed out invitations. Along with the art teachers, they had prepared dresses for you and decorated the gymnasium, with Gregory they grew flowers for the bouquet and with Barbara they chose songs to dance the waltz, they even chose bridesmaids and groomsmen.

You never thought you'd be nervous about a fake wedding, but this touched on something you'd kept deep inside. Seeing yourself in the mirror with that fake dress made of toilet paper and colored cutouts, made you think about what a real wedding with Mel would be like, you knew it was never going to happen and you would never insist on it, but it was nice to dream. Life with Melissa was perfect and you wouldn't risk it by insisting on something like that. Having her in your life was enough and nothing would get better than that, not even a piece of paper saying you were married. Right?

You sighed looking in the mirror while one of the teachers combed your hair

-"Everything fine?" - She asked and you nodded looking at the votes youe kids helped you write

-"Yes..."-You smiled and let her continue to comb your hair.

One of the little kids dressed very elegantly came to pick you up a few minutes later informing you that everything was ready at the gym. You carefully grabbed your bouquet and smiled at the sight of Gregory waiting for you outside in a smart suit made of cardstock.

When you got to the Gym Gates you sighed trying to ease your nerves, if this was just joking, why did you feel so nervous? None of this was real, once they finished all this theater, Melissa would still be your girlfriend and everything would be normal as before.

Gregory smiled and started walking down the aisle when the doors opened, the whole school was there, the children sitting neatly next to their teachers, the walls decorated in white, soft music in the background and at the end of the road, Melissa in a dress also made of paper, which made you laugh. Arriving at her side, Gregory handed her your hand and then took her corresponding place next to you, while next to Mel was Barbara. Mel stroked your hands gently and looked at your dress smiling as the officiant, Mr. Johnson, introduced the ceremony

-"You look beautiful... Is that designer's?" - she joked and you nodded laughing

-"Yes, The most experienced in the business, he has almost all his life of experience to show" - You joked laughing and Mel kissed your hand leaving a kiss marked with her red lipstick. Mel's hands were also sweating a little, was she nervous too?

After a while, they gave you time to read the vows you with the kids had prepared, after clearing your throat, you started reading the notes

-"Melissa... You make me happy like when I eat my favorite candy, you are beautiful like the cutest dog on the planet, I like how you smell like flowers, seeing you makes me as happy as when I found out that it was a snow day and I don't have to come to school and I can continue sleeping. Listening to you talk makes me want to dance with happiness like when I listen to baby shark...I wish I could spend my life with you almost as much as I wish I had the last dancing barbie doll. I will take care of you and I will always be ready to kiss your boboos when you fall playing in the park, I love you so much that I will lend you my favorite toys and give you part of my lunch. I promise to be well-behaved and not to fart in front of you and also chew with my mouth closed and brush my teeth before giving you a kiss on the cheek, I promise to do all that because I love you so much like I love my mom."-You finished reading the vows that the children gave you laughing, but when you looked up Melissa looked at you seriously which made you scared. Maybe this was too much, maybe Mel had regretted making this joke for the kids, maybe she was angry or uncomfortable. Before you could continue to overthink, the redhead put away the vows she had made with her students and sighed taking your hands and kneeling in front of you taking out the small paper ring she had in her pocket, you looked at her confused

-"(Y/N)... Will you be my wife" - Mel asked and you laughed watching her

-"Babe, that's why we are here at the altar... We are getting married..."-You whispered trying to goad her up but she didn't

-"I'm being serious... Would you marry me for real?" -she insisted again and you frowned

-"I don't understand" - You whispered and she smiled looking into your eyes

-"I said one time that would take a miracle to marry again... And you are my miracle... Seeing you like this makes me understand how lucky I am. You're the most gorgeous woman I know, you came into my life to improve it in every way, I know that I am not an easy person to get along with and you adapted to every part of my being, as if we were a complement to each other. The patience you have for me and the happiness you bring me is incomparable, I want to feel that every day for the rest of my days. I don't want to lose you just because I was afraid of getting hurt again or because I was a coward that didn't wanted to take the step and really commit to this relationship. I want you to be by my side like my wife for the rest of my days... What do you say? Would you marry me?"-she whispered smiling, the whole gym had fallen silent waiting for your answer, so quiet that you could hear your heavy breathing and your heartbeat. Mel was shocked when you knelt down in front of her to kiss her while you cried

-"I do! I wanna marry you" - You whispered over her lips making her smile and she carefully placed the paper ring on you

-"I'll get a better ring, I promise" - She whispered and you laughed kissing her again

-"This is perfect..."-You muttered, unable to help but grin from ear to ear

-"I think our vows were better than what she said..." - One of the kids commented out loud, making you laugh as the whole school applauded happy for you two .

#melissa schemmenti soft #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter fanfic #lissa ann walter #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti abott elementary #abott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfic #abott elementary #abbott elementary

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formula1blog · 8 days

Text

Take me back to the night me met

Part 1- Traitor

Part 2- You are here

Part 3- I bust the windows out your car.

Ex Charles Leclerc x Singer Fem!Reader

Summary: Charles faces the consequences of his actions. You both look back at your relationship.

wc: 1272

With the McDonalds in your hands the three of you drove off to the Hotel in Nice where Pierre and Kika were staying. "Was it something I did. Am I not good enough?" You had broken down the moment you exited Monaco. Stuffing fries in your mouth you hoped to stop the crying. "Don't say that, you didn't do anything wrong. Sometimes people just want to ruin a perfectly good thing and that will never be your fault. Remember that." she stroked your shoulders in encouragement to help calm you down.

"Did he say anything to you Pierre. Anything that would have led to this." You cried out. His heart broke at the sight of you. "I don't know why Charles would do this, but I will figure it out. From everything i heard that men was head over heels for you and I know that he did a future with you. I want to know what changed his mind and fucked everything up." Pierre sounded angry. He wanted to slap his friend in the head hoping he would find his brain back. How could he want to lose the woman he spent the last five years with?

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

A couple of kilometers away Charles had arrived at is apartment. The minute he saw the photos online he had booked a flight from Sicily and flew back to Monaco. He knew he couldn't explain it over call. He knew you would hang up on him or don't even pick up the phone. He couldn't blame you.

He did have a work meeting planned but it got cancelled last minute. Some of is colleges had invited him to the yacht part and he couldn't say no. He forgot to tell you about the change of plans. He also forgot how much alcohol he had consumed and after he knew it he had fucked up everything that had happened the last five years. He knew the alcohol wasn't an excuse, but he did regret everything. He didn't plan for this to happen.

When he opened up the door he was taken back by the cold sfeer of the home. He knew that you left. He felt it. Walking through the apartment he saw that your things were missing. The bookshelf was almost fully empty, only his own books were still placed on the dark wooden shelf. Plants were missing and he didn't see your guitar. Walking into the bedroom he saw the closet only filled with his clothes. Some of your pieces were on the ground, probably not able to pack them in your bags. Tears felt his eyes as he screamed his lungs out. "Putain, fuck, fuck, fuck. No, please don't leave." he slid to the ground as he put his knees to his chest.

His eyes were puffy and red by the time he finally managed to calm himself down a bit. The tears were dried to his face by the time he looked up from the ground. His eyes landed on the picture on the nightstand. It was you two together at his first Monaco grand prix. He love that picture more then anything and right now he wanted to smash it to pieces.

He didn't know what to do. He needed someone to talk too, but he knew he didn't have anyone. He had seen a note on the table from Pierre, saying that he didn't have to call because he wouldn't pick up. He couldn't talk to his family, they would only scold him for this. As he deserved. The only option he had was Max. Before he knew it he had walked out of his apartment and towards the Dutchman's home. Hoping he would have good advice for him.

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

Pierre looked up at the sound of his phone ringing. A confused look made a way on his face when he saw that it was Max verstappen calling. That didn't happen often anymore. "Hello Max. What is it?" the other side of the phone was silent and Pierre taught maybe it was a butt dial. He waited for ten seconds more before the dutch man started to speak. "Hi, Sorry. Can you please tell me what is going on. Charles is crying on my couch and I don't know what to do."

Pierre's heart broke a bit knowing his friend was in pain, before remembering that he was the one that caused all of this to happen." Charles thought that it was a good idea to go and kiss another woman, that isn't his girlfriend. I think he right now comes to terms with his actions." He explains to the world champion who lets out a heavy groan. "Why did he do that. Why is he acting like it isn't his fault? He does keep asking about her, so please just tell me you know where Y/N is." Pierre tells him that he had picked you up the moment he figured out and that you were right now crying your heart out to Kika. "Please get to know why he did it?"

"Who was it?" Kika asked her boyfriend. "Max. Charles is in his home crying his heart out because of his stupid actions." Your head snapped up by the sound of Charles. Was he sad? Good he deserved to be. He is the one that screwed everything up. "What an ass whole is Charles. His red flag is redder than his Ferrari."

As if it was on cue your phone started ringing. It was Charles. Charles Leclerc the man who broke your heart was trying to reach out for you. "Don't pick up. Let that man hurt." Kika grabbed the phone out of your hand. He tried another time and again, before starting to text you. Messages were filling your inbox so fast that you wanted to know what he was saying. "Just let me read them. I won't answer."

Charles<3

-I am sorry

- Please just pick up the phone

- Can we talk

- I didn't mean for this to happen

- I love you Cheri

- Please, just talk to me

- I can explain

-> read

- Don't leave me

- We didn't built all of this for nothing

- I can see that you read them

- J'taime

- Cherie please

- Y/N please just let me explain myself

- promise it is not what it looks like

Your heart ache with the feeling that maybe it was all fake. Maybe it didn't happen. "I just wished this never happened. That this was all some kind of nightmare and that I woke up with him next to me. I want to go back to the moment that I met him and do things differently, hoping he doesn't end everything. Why can't it be like the past." You sniffled. You think back about how you met Charles. It was the end of 2017. You had been lost in the mall of Monaco and asked a stranger for help. That stranger turned out to be Charles Leclerc, the formula 2 championship winner. You had been in love the minute your eyes landed on him, it being the same for him. You were both young, but knew that you wanted to spend time with each other. At the end all of it was for nothing.

All that time you spent together. The dates, the conversations, the sacrifices. It was all for nothing. Just because he had to ruin it by kissing another woman. You hated him for that. That he threw everything away that you had worked for. You want to be hurt the same way that you were feeling right now. You smile a bit when you get an idea in your head. "The positive look from this is. I finally have the inspiration to write a new album. And it is going to be completely dedicated to the man who broke my heart."

Part three is coming

#charles leclerc x reader #cl16 #charles leclerc 16 #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #f1 #formula 1 #kika gomes #pierre gasly #Charles leclerc #f1 imagine

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304blur · 2 months

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"he'd be the type of guy to.." haikyuu edition ♡

notes: NOT proofread, i wrote rhis at 1:50am just some thoughts, all will be written with timeskip versions of them in mind. fem reader just cause also i chnaged title cuz it sidnt make sense LMAO

warning/s: NONE

genre: fluff

characters: hinata shoyo, kozume kenma, kageyama tobio, miya atsumu

hinata would be the type of guy to let your dates go unplanned (in a good way!!!) ypu guys get to do whatever you'd like, unrestrained. if you wanna go to a goodwill/thrift store and find cool items, he'd happily go with you. he'll also secretly get you some things that you stared at for too long. like those sparkly pink cowboy boots, a music box where instead of a ballerina spinning it's a middle finger, and a bikini that barely covers anything. then after buying those, you'd go in your car, and he'd hide them under the car seat, but the bikini's straps stick out from under the seat, and you go "what the fuck is that??" so he has no choice but to bring out the bag filled with the stuff you looked like you wanted, and surprised you early. do you want to go to an indoor volleyball court? hinata rented one just for the two of you to play. but you never got to play anything, you two are busy running around, playing hide and seek in the surprisingly large building. yes, for other people, things don't always go to plan. but for you two? you make the best out of unplanned surprises.

kenma would be the type of guy to really REALLY appreciate all of your pitiful efforts to pay him back for what he buys you. he loves, LOVES spoiling you, spending his CEO money on you is his love language. even though he acts a little nonchalant about it, he always loves seeing the smile on your face when he bought you something you've wanted for so long. but, you'd feel bad about what he's spending on you, and the effort he puts into working so hard 24/7, and going with you to the mall and buying you everything. so, you decide to repay him in different ways! like baking cookies that took you all day to bake but they taste bitter, but he still eats all of them in one sitting. you made him lots of origami flowers, he'd have it displayed in his room, without a single speck of dust landing on the paper, he knows that you feel guilty about him spending lots on you so you do these things, he keeps telling you that what he's spending on you isn't going to make a dent in his bank account, but you still wouldn't listen. (he secretly freaks out if you do things for him)

kageyama would be the type of guy to learn about anything you're into, and he'd teach you about what he's into in return. if you like a certain singer/band, and you love to quote a line from a song/an inside joke, he's going to be curious about it, and eventually, he'll start quoting it too, (at the start, he usually had trouble deciding whether or not the situation you're in would apply, but he's quoting that lyric/inside joke like he knows that band/singer better than you do.) he taught you volleyball, do you love spiking? he'd set for you, and you'd drive that ball home. do you prefer setting? he's gonna make you attend setter bootcamp, on god he's gonna turn into your coach instead of your boyfriend. you like blocking? he'd make sure he'd get his hits past your blocks, and of course tell you all sorts of positions you put your hands in if you want to change the trajectory of the ball, or completely shut it out. do you like recieving? he'll throw different types of serves your way so you'll learn how to recieve all of them perfectly. or if you'd love serving more, he'd be teaching you how to get service aces and eventually be better at serving than his team (according to him). he may be a pro volleyball player, but that doesn't mean he won't make time for you.

atsumu would be the type of guy to relax and pamper yourselves in his free time. despite his loud and rowdy personality, you and mr japanese barry b benson with a kansai accent, oftentimes go to spas, and get massages, facial treatments, all that good stuff. then he'd take you out to a hot spring after a major tournament is over, the steaming water helping to relax, and also give his skin some benefits too! after all, he's a volleyball player that has the looks of an idol, he has a face and body he has to maintain. if you guys don't want to go out, he'll look up recipes for diy mud masks to apply to eachothers faces, maybe even bringing out a stash of facemasks from his skincare mini frige and watch a movie together while waiting for the facemask to dry out. you're pretty lucky to have a skincare boyfriend, since you have never had a single skin problem ever since you started dating him. if there's an event you two will be attending, he'll prioritize the both of you looking and feeling fresh. you two would be the couple with the clearest skin in the room.

#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #miya atsumu #hinata shouyou #kageyama tobio #haikyu fluff #fanfic #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #hinata shoyo

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alavestineneas · 15 days

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and if you are there, why do i feel alone in this room?

pairing: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!reader summary: The woman—a siren, some kind of sea beast lurking in deep, salted waters—sits near him with the ottoman under her feet that still seemed to deny her the comfort of rest, her eyes glinting with mischief when she notices his stare. Taunts, even, forge obliviousness to the spells she casts. Strange, otherworldly—redundant. Everything about her, down to the light gown and a headdress that showed little of her face, Feyd-Rautha was not used to seeing. warnings: mentions of death, violence, implied/referenced child abuse, religious symbolism, mentions of sa (!), blood and other parts of body, very non-healthy relationships chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 !this work is part 2 to the i can feel the soil falling over my head; no people are here, just the void in my chest! word count: 7,3k

author's notes: hi beautiful people! today, I have finally finished this chapter and am thrilled to say that this fic requires part 3! be aware that this piece of literature is explicit and touches on some very heavy themes, including sa and child abuse. Please be mindful of it! As always, your opinions, suggestions, and critiques are welcome in the comments. Love you, and have a tasty read!

There are a lot of books stored in her memory, locked in the neurocytes safely. They are tucked into the cortex with love and tenderness that YN otherwise taught herself to suppress as a sign of her weaker self. But papers were non-living, so she felt like it was less dangerous for her to show warmth towards them; after all, if the objects can not acknowledge your love, does it really count as real? She read everything, mostly in an attempt to prepare herself for something she did not know the face of; she read to build the shield around herself, in desperate hope to be able to help at least her future self. YN read even now, although her foolish childhood desires were long gone, just to get a glimpse of the girl she was before the monsters escaped the pages.

The book she re-read the most was nothing special, nothing suiting the image she moulded herself into—a giant, relatively old encyclopaedia of animals inhabiting the furthest corners of Known Imperium. The letters inside, although faded a little, were left almost untouched by eyes—maybe it was what drew her in in the first place—to cherish something seen as unneeded. YN learned the small paragraphs almost by heart; she liked the idea of someone taking enough time to observe something as small as a roden to know its habits. She liked the idea of it happening to her one day. As it always is, it did not.

She chose her favourite animal without that much thought. Although even the notion of having something beloved was foolish, YN was made to choose; she and her sisters played the game of forest most often. The game was simple: pretend to be a creature you are not, forgetting the countless rules they had to follow. Pretending they have claws and teeth; pretending they can protect themselves not through intrigues and hidden motives but through open, bold force. Irulan was always a Katanga Lioness; she liked it because of the proximity to their house's symbol. YN did not; the grey pages of her beloved book described them as "observed to also scavenge on carrion of animals that were killed by other predators or died from natural causes''. What king of the animals steals the work of others simply to feed themselves? She did not tell Irulan that, of course—why would she?

YN chose a mountain lion for herself. Sure, she may have made a mistake thinking it was just another type of lion, but the game went too far to change anything, so she stuck with that. She even grew to love it—the drawing of the mountain lion on her character sheet, the way it prowled through the forest in her mind's eye. It had many names and many homes. Adaptive. Captivating.

She does not know why it came into her mind suddenly—maybe it was the dim light of the closed arena. The air circulated here freely, cooling through the complex systems of vents, even though it seemed to be deprived of any life—just a mechanical circle of the same molecules moving around her seated figure and returning to the hidden openings again and again. YN looked straight ahead; the two men were still sparring.

From her bench, they looked like one—two bodies moved so swiftly that one was unable to differentiate where the lines of their limbs ended. YN squinted her eyes; she was alone in the seating area, and still, she dared not move closer. The taller, thinner figure possessed skin so white it looked almost translucent underneath the cold light—YN wondered if she would be able to see the structures in his body through his clothed stomach. He moved well, almost too well for her not to press her lower row of teeth to the top one, hiding the tongue in a cave of pearl bones—she had hoped he was worse with his bare hands. YN had counted four hundred and five seconds before he made a mistake in his steps; it was a lot more than her own results, but for a man, he was good.

Feyd-Rautha had style; she had to give him that. He fought like a serpent would: calculated, precise. His fists knew the most effective targets, and his legs knew how to escape the blows of his opponent. If YN was to guess, he relied on muscle memory less than a usual fighter would, preferring to dwell in the moment instead. It made for a good show, sure, but it was not practical. She smiled to herself; of course, the na-Baron could not know what the real battle was like. How unfortunate for him—how delightful for her. YN still can't believe he let her watch his training every morning—was he really that stupid not to realise her motive? Was he too confident to consider having weaknesses?

Regardless, she saw what she needed to do - for three hours every day, she set unmovingly on the third bench in a small fighting ground, imprinting his every move in her mind. There are so many moves you can use and so many tricks you can do before she learns them all. YN did not care for the cold gaze thrown in her direction when Feyd-Rautha collapsed on the ground, taking a moment to rest before lurching onto his opponent again. She can wait.

Mountain lions are stealthy predators.

The days she spent here changed into months, their slow steps morphing into each other until time became a blur, a concept she did not grasp. Feyd-Rautha was a hard one to warm, but before she would mould him into something she wanted, YN needed to heat his DNA to a certain magnitude; otherwise, he would simply break. She would've gladly accepted this turn of fate too, but right now, keeping na-Baron alive is far more convenient for the Bene Gessarit. For her.

A concubine. A slap in the face: it seemed like life was determined to dissolve the small bits of her dignity in its endless pool of secrets. She was not a wife to Harkonnen na-Baron; no, she was to be his whore. If she was not too tired, she would've felt a pang of fear on her rising with oxygen lungs; a concubine's position is even lower here compared to one of a lawful wife's. YN remembers the words of her teacher as she prepared her for the union: Harkonnen concubines are killed after their first night in a position; if one is lucky enough to escape the fate by being with a child, she bears him until it's time for the baby to be born. One of the greatest honours for a Harkonnen is to take the life of his mother as soon as he enters the world.

She was to join na-Baron for breakfast today—a proposal YN waited long to receive, but part of her wishes she never did. It was worded like an invitation; YN knows it was not. Harkonnens rarely spoke when they did not give orders—a creature of habit, she supposed. So, she did what she had to: follow the slave to the chambers designated for the meal. The hem of her dress shone with a colour so foreign to the fort around her; YN needed to make herself stand out. Men are much like children, she learned—the more colourful the toy, the more likely they will want to play with it.

The walls were heavy here. They didn't bend in the shapes she was used to, preferring to stand tall. They didn't have to hide their strength underneath a complicated facade—quite the opposite. They paraded it, wearing it like the honour it is. Staying unremorsefully unbending. Maybe it's the air or a different measure of gravity; maybe it's her habit of soaking up the surroundings and letting them poison her insides, growing rotten in between the folds of her stomach tissue, but her legs are metal, stone-cold, pulling YN deeper and deeper into the floor. She tries so hard to ignore the three creatures in the corner.

They are hairless, much like the man in front of her, and dressed in matching black. YN would've mistaken them for Harkonnen royalty if it were not for the iron collars on their necks and the glowing black eyes that seemed to follow her every move. She would've been happy to have some company and not be forced into solitude with na-Baron if it were not for a still convulsing body on the floor. A body she did not recognise, but it could've easily been her own.

The creatures seemed to enjoy the involuntary moves of the soon-to-be corpse; they closed their eyes in delight and bared the sharp, black-coloured teeth in sheer pleasure as they lurched into the white flesh. They ripped it apart with only their hands, not bothering to use the prepared knives for more than a big incision from head to stomach. The sounds of chewing and gnawing filled the room, echoing off the walls and sending electric impulses down her body. YN was used to the metallic smell and the bright colour of arterial blood, but this was not a simple death. It was a show, and she was the long-awaited watcher.

Feyd-Rautha seemed unbothered by the sight near him. His hands, covered in thick streaks of blood, were deep to his elbows in the body. He dissected the corpse with precision, his eyes focused and his grip steady. He looked calm, even peaceful. Na-Baron was in good humour today. ''I must say, your arrival has graced us with much more than just the dowery; nothing could've made this union more auspicious—such a rare bird you are, daughter of our generous Emperor. A princess, yet treated no better than a common slave.''

Here it was: the thing she was thinking about all the way to this strange, garbage planet in the dress that pokes bleeding holes in her abdomen with each glass she downs. From his lips, it sounds even more bitter; even savages found the way the Emperor sold one of his daughters so easily strange. "Both of our houses have traditions far beyond our understanding," YN shrugs, scaring her thoughts away like annoying flies. Here, in a room so far from the comfort of her home, they moved too fast, bringing nausea to her throat.

She is here to secure the bloodline of House Harkonnen, to ensure the balance needed in the Imperium. YN does not notice how suddenly her gaze darkens or how tightly the hands that rested on the chair are now holding the pleated velvet of her ruby-red gown. Oh, the baby. The tiny creature inside her womb, the future head for the Baron's crown to be placed upon. The yet unconcieved child she could not feel love for. She was given no other choice but to risk its life before even giving it a chance to obtain its gift.

''Then you will find my present to be quite fitting.''

YN watches in silence as na-Baron reaches inside the rib cage of the corpse. He reaps out an organ with one swift motion, almost like plucking a harmful sprout from the garden. The organ is broun and rosewood, a weird mixture of shades that make it harder for her to focus on anything but the thing in his large hand. The gift he meant to give was a human heart.

She feels his walk long before she sees a figure departing from its place at the table; she guesses the end point of his manoeuvres too easily. It's almost funny—a cruel, senseless joke; how obvious the slight tremor in her hands is; how heavy her eyes become at the sight of Harkonnen black. The body positions itself near; if she squints, she can hear the hot breathing somewhere between her shoulder blades. His hand snakes around her neck quickly, positioning the organ right in front of her mouth. YN can detect the smell hitting her nostrils before she closes the receptors in them. She wants to scream, but the notes die in her throat. Who would she scream for? She hears the creatures hiss and whisper—the heart is a good part, from what she can make out. It did not need to be wasted on people like her.

''Will you not accept it?'' Feyd-Rautha's words are mocking, but his dark blue eyes stay virgin to the laughter. They drill small spots on her neck from behind with such force that YN can almost feel the burnt smell of her sweat-covered skin.

She takes a breath. Her own heart shrinks, its vessels beating with intensity twice as much as needed. Still alive, she notes absently. Still breathing. The feeling is natural and easy; the forced calmness in her body tingles the muscles, braiding her nerves into a pattern similar to the netting. Then, she opens her mouth.

"If I shall lick the blood of your hands, Feyd-Rautha, dare to make it your own."

That's it.

Maybe the Emperor was right to spare her none of the Sardaukars and a quarter of her dresses. She did not need more; she was not expected to survive long enough to use half of her clothes. YN chucked under her breath. Dead over diet preferences—how profound.

After a moment, the pale face behind her also twists, allowing the blackened teeth to escape the grip of thin lips. Like this, na-Baron looks less human and more like the evil he was said to be. He throws the heart to the creatures—they catch it greedily—and places a bloodied hand on her shoulder, the droplets of crimson going unnoticed on the brightly coloured cloth. ''Very well, then. Let us eat.''

YN nods. She looks around almost instinctively; nothing could make her eat a thing after the sight she just witnessed, but she refuses the na-Baron once; she is not about to do it again. The food is a lot, but her plate is almost empty: only a small amount of salad is here, sadly staring into the hunger in her eyes and a now featherless creature in an unnatural pose, suggesting its non-poetical death. The bird is small, almost delicate; its wings are pitifully glued to the body. YN does not want to let her mind draw the comparison, and does not allow her brain to admit a direct analogy; she dissects the bird with a dull knife and puts a piece in her dry mouth. The creature tastes good—almost too good to be expected in this brightly lit hall.

Most often deer is the mountain lion’s staple diet. However, they can survive preying on small animals as well.

The night covers Giedi Prime rather quickly; it never lingers, politely waiting for its masters to finish their daily affairs; it hits like a coward, from behind, trapping those not careful enough to hide before its arrival. The harsh, toxic waves of lazy winds hit the walls of the halls coldly lighted with a few sphears; they look like deep forest clearings, forming a system of endless options, ultimately leading to one, inevitable, end. His work chambers aren't big; he does not visit them often for them to be. The solitary metal desk before him is filled with letters, drafts of laws, and official documents, all waiting for his approval. It exhausts Feyd-Rautha to no end, the sheer stupidity of most of the advisers here; almost half of the documents were riddled with errors and inconsistencies. The forever present in his head dull migraine grows stronger when he opens the shortest letter; he almost busts his skull open when the pain heavies.

He ponders too much—the type of thoughts you can feel running on your tongue but never escaping. He is not used to being in the mist; all of his life is so painfully contrasted that no doubt of its nature can survive the sharp edge of his mind. There are things he can escape—forget, even—but some linger in his ribcage too long for them to vanish. Soon, they grow into his lungs with small, unbreakable threads, becoming him. He used to try to get them away from his heart, as if it held some value. Now, he is smarter, older, and more indifferent, he lets them pierce yet another piece of human flesh with no sorrow.

Of course, he remembered her face. The same face that haunted his sleep ever since she dared to appear before his eyes. Feyd-Rautha, naturally, found her little frolic that day. He spent an entire evening studying her work, analysing every move she could've made with her blade to achieve such outcomes. Sure, some things he would've done differently, but the sheer brutality of an animal he would not have guessed the girl possessed charmed him. Feyd-Rautha was a proud man, but he, too, held a love for beautiful things. For that, he hadn't told the Baron of the sight he discovered in the reading room. For that, he is now willing to pretend to believe her eyes when the fear fleshes in them.

Feyd-Rautha curses; she sickens. Like a bone stuck somewhere down his throat, not letting him live without a pang of mocking. She lurks, and whispers—Feyd-Rautha wants to smash her pretty head against the wall just to reveal the secrets she hides from him so he can finally understand the hold she retains. He is no stranger to the desire to own, or devour, but the fear in the back wall of his stomach is an alien in his body. He tries to hide it—to paint over it with anger or violence—but it remains a constant presence, gnawing at him from within. It's no use; the woman is a shark, designed to sense the fright. Maybe that's what brought him in in the first place—the steel eyes so similar to his own in a narrow hall all those years before. Maybe he was so used to the danger that he craved it subconsciously, looking for it to make him feel like himself again. A reoccurring childhood nightmare he can't escape; he doesn't want to escape.

Feyd-Rautha finds the chair to put his weight on and waits until the tingling, spinning sensation spreads from his temples down his neck, finding its way into his bloodstream and passing his organs one by one, until none are left uncorrupted. Of course, he expects it. The woman slipped into his brain and now chews her way into it like a parasite downs the rotten body. He knows he should be terrified, but instead, he feels a strange sense of relief. Feyd-Rautha can hear the whispers of his own mind fighting to remain the only owners of the secrets and desires buried within. He feels his eyelids heavy; a second later, the whites of his eyes are staring at the ceiling, the blue eye lenses dissolving in light.

Water. The first thing he feels is ice-cold water dripping onto his face, filling his lungs, and sending a shock through his arms. This body does not feel like his; it's too small, too narrow. His eyes are trying to adjust as fast as they can, jumping from one blurred spot to another until finally catching a glimpse of the surroundings. His brain does not have time to process the picture; his nose is filled with fluid again, and his open mouth is gasping for air but only taking in more liquid. He tries waving his hands around, but the stronger grip is firm on his nape, pulling him further down into the depths. The hand yanked him out just as he was about to fall into darkness again, the sound of water changing to loud screeching.

''How dare you hit me, devil child? Let the water wash away your dirt. Repent; beg for forgiveness for all of your rotten nature.''

The voice is unknown to him; it is harsh and filled with fury. The woman's face is twisted in anger; splashes of water on it match his. He can't tell if they are from his antics or tears. The woman's grip tightens, her nails digging into his skin. The black clothes on her figure make her status known - a Bene Gessarit witch. Feyd-Rautha tries to lurch forward and hit her back, but her strength is overwhelming. He feels panic coursing through his veins instead of oxygen—a sensation he did not think he could experience anymore. He wants to bark a response to show her that he is not afraid, but his voice catches in his throat.

Feyd-Rautha has no time to wonder what the woman wants; she brings his face to the bathtub again, and he opens his mouth involuntarily, frantically begging not to do it anymore. He says everything she wants to hear; he cries out and promises to wash his sins away. The voice does not sound like his at all. He is desperate to end this nightmare now, but some force holds him here. The woman is not satisfied; her ears are deaf to his pleas.

His face ends up on the water surface a moment later, his nose hitting the wall of the bathtub as the woman holds him down. He feels his body go limp with utter horror; this time, the shouting woman won't stop. Her voice grows quieter, replaced by the sound of small waves hitting the brim and spilling; from right to left, the water turns red, and his tongue tastes the iron he knows from sliding blades into his mouth.

''Echidna, what the fuck are you doing? Let her go; she is going to choke!''

''Get that spawn to me, for I will not let her ruin my life anymore! I must finish what I have started!''

Feyd-Rautha's head is filled with oxygen once again; his lungs take a desperate breath in, sending too much air to his blood system. He falls on his back, the world spinning. He does not care for the weeping woman in black or the chaos unfolding around him. His only thought is that everything is finally done and that the white floors are a magnificent place for drops of liquid to fall from his normally bald head's waterfall of hair.

He wakes up suddenly, the sensation long gone. His steps are heavy again; the body he inhibits no longer feels like a cage. The voices have left him for now, and the only thing on his forehead left is small drops of sweat and a pathetic, frightened, beating heart. The cold breeze from the darkened sands surrounding the city wishes to prove otherwise—it heavies and plants its spikes into his reddened cheeks. The horizon gleams at him, almost taunting; not a single star is to be seen under the imposing clouds. He will kill her; maybe he will even enjoy it. Feyd-Rautha can handle a lot, but not the shame of being seen. Not the guilt of being caught wanting.

There are only three ways to hunt a mountain lion: tracking, waiting in ambush, and with dogs.

The gliding motions of heavy fabrics across the wooden floors created a strange pattern of a song now centuries old. Here, in a room so long that the wind travelled through the hollows, her careful steps seemed to almost fall silent. Nothing was there for the preying eyes to see. YN closes her eyes; with that, even for a moment, the world stays still. She knows where the hollow staircase will lead her; she feels it in her stomach with every step she takes. YN knows nothing about the future, but the past lives deep in her memories, haunting her every move. She knows she shouldn't have done it. Travelling through one's mind is a sin she can't escape; she will pay the price for it in her blood, but the Bene Gesarit did not send her here to survive, so it's of no use to be afraid now. It makes no difference for the dead if you weep at their grave or not.

The burning sphere of light in the hall stops spinning; the doors open without any noise, although if the pounding eardrums had not stunned her hearing, she could've noticed the faint thuds. YN waits; there are no flashes of her happiest memories or the faces of her loved ones in her drained mind. No, in what seems to be her last moments, she thinks of what she could've been if the world had not given her a sword to turn into.

Feyd-Rautha appears in the hall; his steps aren't rushed, and his expression is stone-cold. She eyes him shamelessly: nothing. She sees nothing; she senses it deep in her crying bones. He drags her by the hair like a mother would with her misbehaving child; roughly, he pulls her towards the exit, his grip tightening with each step until the door behind them closes and her knees meet the cold ground with a nasty thud. The bruises will stain them soon, not that it matters now.

''You should've known better than to cross me,'' he hisses, his voice gruff. It's cold, chilling—the way his lips part to reveal a sinister smile. ''Now, you can think yourself vanished, little witch.''

YN does not answer—what fool would beg the deaf? The blade against her chin is sharp; she knows how attentive he is when it comes to inflicting pain. It pokes right into the Omehyoid muscle, a dull pain shooting through her body. If she has got to die, it may as well be from his skilled arms. How beautiful he is in the twisted pleasure he finds in her suffering. Unearthly, almost too perfect to be made of simple flesh and bone. Something was unnerving, unforgettable in the net of veins under his pearly skin; it was as if he were a work of art, meticulously crafted to bring physical pain and optical pleasure in equal measure. A silver glint under the defined cheekbones, a redness of lips filled with blood vessels. For a second, YN wonders what it would be like to bite into it, like an apple that lay too long under the golden sun; would the blood slip as generously as the sweet nectar? Handsome as poison, as a black sun on his forsaken planet, as death.

''Go on. Kill me, then; let me escape you once and for all.''

Under the deep sea of his eyes, something moved; his eyes dipped into her, part by part. Like the slow, deliberate dance of a predator stalking its prey, his gaze lingered on her, calculating and intense. YN lowered her head to push the knife a little deeper into the flesh. A strange thought lingered in her brain; she found herself on her knees in front of him, almost willingly. She has worshipped God all her life; who, if not her, can recognise his creation? The Devil. Lucifer. Satan. The man with horns so big they once touched the skies; a corrupt angel, fallen from grace so long ago he couldn't remember way back if he tried. They have warned her about him, but is it her fault that God has disowned her earlier than she could? Did it really matter to her, before whom to kneel, as long as she felt a sense of power and control in her submission?

All that mattered now was that he wanted to hurt her. He wanted her.

She sees the recognition flicker on his face. Caught. The blade slides quickly across her exposed neck, the blood sprouting out in a weak, painfully quick stream. Feyd-Rautha kissed her, biting her bottom lip till the stream of boldly coloured blood trickled down his chin. He did so like an animal would, baring his teeth and dragging them across the pulsating vein on her neck. YN's laughing cry echoes in the empty room; she is forced to admit that he felt good.

Never approach a mountain lion; most mountain lions prefer to avoid confrontations, so never approach them and make them feel cornered.

The woman—a siren, some kind of sea beast lurking in deep, salted waters—sits near him with the ottoman under her feet that still seemed to deny her the comfort of rest, her eyes glinting with mischief when she notices his stare. Taunts, even, forge obliviousness to the spells she casts. Strange, otherworldly—redundant. Everything about her, down to the light gown and a headdress that showed little of her face, Feyd-Rautha was not used to seeing. The beautiful substance of her hair caught the light from the sun like a mirage in the desert, reflecting in his eyes with painful hits. The jewels, too, have found their way onto her clothes, but they were hidden beneath the layers of fabric. They shined brightly, impertinently, framing her figure in a glow that seemed to come from within.

To his surprise, the skills woman possessed spread out to politics as well, with her witch training proving useful in court. Feyd-Rautha did not miss how his advisors grew more uneasy when she entered the room, her careful eyes scanning their faces for even a hint of betrayal or deceit. Like a proud discoverer, he ached to share his new-found wonder with the blind audience, but something in him protested in a mare thought of showing the precious jewel of his eye to the cluster of unworthy. So, Feyd-Rautha did the only thing he knew how— all of his secret observations were done from afar, masterfully hidden behind the facade of casual indifference.

As he drags yet another blade across the surface of the whetstone, he thinks about her delicate hands on his neck, her ringed fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. Harkonnen men rarely wed; they just take what they capture—men and women—and turn them into slaves. Some, if particularly sweet, are reserved for fucking. There are no special songs for that; there isn't a specific word in their native tongue for wife, either. It doesn't matter; YN is nothing of the sort. A concubine, a possession, a tool for pleasure and procreation—the Harkonnen way was simple.

''Are you done eye-fucking me now, or do you need more time with your blade?'' she sneers, her voice mocking. Only she could get away with such bold defiance in his presence, but she does not seem to care for the unusualness of it.

YN motions for him to come closer, her eyes studying the way his legs move. Feyd-Rautha has no control over them; the steps make themselves. She plays the game very well; the chase fuels something primal within him. Thirst. Hunger. It was the Harkonnen training talking to him—the wild, ancient sensation taking over his insides and imprisoning his mind in a cage of helpless desire. It spread its tentacles down to his fingertips, nesting in his abdomen. He positions himself in front of her, his body betraying him as he leans in closer, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Feyd-Rautha's hands repeat the ritual almost instinctively, rolling the hem of her deep purple dress up to her waist.

''Stop for a second,'' she whispers against his ear, her breath warm and inviting. ''Can I give you a piece of advice?''

Feyd-Rautha can feel the anger creeping into his body; he does not like to be refused. ''No,'' he grumbles, turning her around forcefully. "I don't need your advice," he snaps, his grip tightening on her arm.

YN does not seem to care for it. ''Don't do it. It will only lead to trouble.''

''What?'' He stops, his eyes narrowing as he absorbs the woman's words. The doubts that had lingered in the back of his mind suddenly grew louder, echoing through his mind. He releases her arm, his expression stoic. ''You are insane, woman. What are you talking about?''

''You know what I mean.''

The unease boils in his stomach. How could she know? He was careful not to slip anything; she wasn't able to cast her spells anymore either. But her knowing gaze tells him otherwise. ''You can not know the future,'' he pronounces.

''I don't need to know the future to see the truth, Feyd-Rautha. Your judgement is clouded by rage, and your mind is not as sharp as it usually is. You are not as invincible as you think you are.''

She is bluffing, he thinks. He hopes she is. Feyd-Rautha almost wished there was no cloth covering her face, nothing to hide her expressions as she lay beneath him. He catches her flamed eyes and the way they circle his face in one swift motion before settling on the ceiling above. It unnerves him, but he refuses to show it. She is no master here; she is simply a servant. That is not what power looks like, if he ever recognised one, and Feyd-Rautha knew power.

''Get out, now.''

Nothing was portrayed on her face as she curtseyed; nothing was there when she turned and walked to her rooms, leaving nothing but the ghost of the human body's warmth.

Mountain lions are more at home in brushy areas than in open prairies.

And then, he disappeared. Like the sound of the morning birds falling silent in the cacophony of voices of the city on her home planet, there was no trace of na-Baron in the entire Harkonnen fortress. YN thought she was slowly but surely going mad; no one but her noticed the usual place by the window empty, and no one but her seemed to care enough to know where he went. She caught strange looks from a few, and frankly, she thought they were right. She looked like a mad woman, her hair quickly plated and her dress hurriedly laced, her eyes darting around the room in search of any sign of Feyd-Rautha's massive figure. Noon was dragged into the evening, and then night, for three, long days until she heard the long-awaited news: na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen had tried to usurp his uncle and had failed.

She has told him so. A fucking brainless ram, with stubbornness bigger than his cock—why did he think he could outsmart the Baron? He will pay for his dumbness with his blood, perhaps even his limb—the thought brought nausea to YN's throat. She was lucky the Baron did not consider her important enough to be knowledgeable of such schemes; she lowered her head in the desert, hiding from the sand storms of Harkonnen politics; she waited for two long weeks until the announcement was made; Feyd-Rautha was forgiven. The celebration in honour of this news is to be today; she is to attend it. Not like his concubine, YN supposed, but more like the princess she still was.

Now, she took her time. YN chose a gown she wanted long enough to make even a tireless slave yawn, savouring each moment before their meeting. She was a victor now, in their small game of cat and mouse. He was a cat, but the mouse could still outwit him with grace and style. YN smiled at the wondering attendants; she looked good, and she was going to meet him.

The walk from her chambers to the Grand Hall wasn't too long; she would've walked a thousand more stairs if it was needed. The doors opened without a sound, revealing nothing but a mere celebration of yet another year under the reign of Harkonnens. The lines of slaves changed one another, the uneven circles of people dancing appearing and fleeing to the cheerful tone of strings. She was set somewhere between two Harkonnen lords she had no chance of knowing; she felt a sense of unease creeping up her spine as she tried to maintain a polite smile. Their gazes didn't look right; something sinister lurked inside them—hiding a secret she had no chance of knowing.

One of them turned to her, a chilling smile spreading across his face. "How are you finding the evening, lady YN? Or, what should I call you?,'' he mastered a fake confusion. ''Perhaps, darling? Concubine has a cheap wing to it; quite unworthy of a face so lovely as yours, don't you think?"

Dirt. The thing that crawled under her skin at his words was like dirt, making her feel unclean and exposed. She forced a laugh, trying to brush off his comments, the crown of her hair moving with muscles underneath her skin. "I am a princess, my Lord. Address me as such."

It would be enough every other noon, but today. The man's face twists, as if he just remembered something; he turns, the wine in his goblet splashing on the tablecloth. ''I think na-Baron wouldn't be too angry if I stole a princess for the night," he sneered, his eyes darkening with malice.

''Does it matter to you either way?''

YN watches as the smirk, so similar to Feyd-Rautha's, appears on the men's lips, although it doesn't feel the same. She fights back disgust as the man nods, biting into a hefty chunk of prey. His eyes, once focused on her, drifted away. YN chose to follow them; the string of fat streaming down the man's mouth onto the silver tablecloth made her nauseous. She looked from one unfamiliar face to another, until the cold feeling in her abdomen crept its way onto her chest.

There he was. His figure is unusually crouching as he sits on the podium reserved for members of the dynasty. The dark blue eyes are red now; the thin blood vessels in them are torn and emptied. His body seemed to suck the light out of the hall inside, casting a shadow over the room. There are no scars on his smooth face, but the sunken cheeks and hollow eyes spoke of a suffering that went beyond physical wounds. YN almost wished she saw him dead; whatever this was, it was surely much worse. He raised his eyes slowly to meet hers; something flickered in them before turning back to their empty state. Feyd-Rautha parts his dry lips to say something to her—she can't understand a word he draws with his breath.

From the place nearby, the Baron's voice booms, his low, almost whisper-like vowels mending into one. His face, covered with layers of skin and dead cells, twists into what was meant to be a welcoming smile—the corners of his paper-thin lips dance, lowering themselves only to jump higher, and his eyes travel from one corner to another, unable to be still even for a moment. He speaks of things YN knows nothing about court intrigue, power struggles, and alliances that shape the fate of their world, heavy with hidden meanings and unspoken threats. She does not listen until he gestures towards her, a scent of spice and decomposing flesh lingering.

''Sergeant Voss has served me well, and his loyalty at the right time is not to be forgotten. Here, I bestow upon him the highest honour of all; what was once mine, is now his. Do not let go of her if she screams, Sergeant; the girl is a fine one.''

No. YN almost does not recognise the hand as her own as the man drags her to the bed that appeared out of nowhere, freezing with horror as the people around her continue to watch in silence, their eyes devoid of any emotion or empathy. The tradition, she notes, is the one she learned so much about bedding in front of the entire court as a symbol of unity. She choked on her own tears as the man smiled at her pleas for help; they seemed to make him even more pleased.

YN looks, frantically, to the place she saw Feyd-Rautha sitting just a moment before. He would help; surely, he would not let them do it to her—his servant, his concubine, his. But the seat is empty. The scream echoing through the hall does not register as hers right away; he has sold her. For his own freedom, for a chance to be free from the consequences of his own stupid actions. Surely, the Harkonnens could not get rid of her openly—it would mean war—but she was not immune to the man who now owned her. His hands travelled her body with such audacity that YN wanted to cut them off—to cut her chest just so she could not feel the fingers digging into her skin. A sole reminder she was a woman first and a human second.

Mountain lions are solitary hunters.

The man undressed himself quickly; all of the soldiers were trained to do so. She should run; she should fight back, but the pair of unmoving hands pinning her wrists down was a stark reminder of her helplessness. The man lowers himself closer, his hot breath against her neck making her shudder in fear. She can feel him against her skirts; she can feel the weight of his body pressing down on her. The adrenaline is pumping through her veins; she will survive. Whatever it fucking takes, even if her body is bruised and broken, she will survive.

They prefer to ambush their prey from behind by swiftly and cleanly breaking the neck.

She bites—her teeth launch towards his cheek, feeling the warm flesh give way beneath her. She sinks them deeper, making holes big enough to draw blood. It's hot, and sickening on her tongue, but she does not have time for these thoughts; her next blow is in his stomach, with his knee jammed into his gut. She can feel his body convulse in pain, giving her a chance to throw him on the bed, his broad back facing her.

If they haven’t broken the neck, they will suffocate the animal.

There is nothing around that could serve as a knife; her captors made sure of that, and the sheets are too thin to wrap around his neck. She looks around the room, desperate for something to use, but the space around her is empty. YN curses as the man regains his composure and begins to struggle against her hold. Her elbow meets his nose with a sickening crunch, causing blood to spurt out. She takes a breath in; her hand wraps around his neck, forming a tight hold as she goes into the headlock. She chokes him, so desperately trying to live. And the man trashes against her grip, his white face turning a deep shade of purple before finally going limp in her arms.

Shame.

A thing that followed her after every life she took is now absent. Maybe the Giedi Prime's cruelty did have its effect on her; YN feels nothing but a sense of emptiness as she stands over the lifeless body.

''Do you have any more men to gift me to, Baron Vladimir? The night is still young.''

Her voice has changed. It holds a certain hiss now, a rasp that wasn't present before; it has matured and bloomed into half an octave deeper tone. It bites through the noise easily, cutting sharply.

The Baron laughs. His eyes gleam with amusement as he gestures towards the door. "Plenty more where that came from, my dear, but it's enough for today. Here,'' he throws something in her, a smirk ghosting on his lips. ''You've earned it.''

YN catches it and inspects the object in her hand. A small, golden broche catches the light, glinting in the dimly lit room. A head of the Bighorn ram stares back at her, the symbol of House Harkonnen. The taste of victory mingled with the metallic tang, leaving a bittersweet sensation in her mouth. Joy courses her veins—she isn't afraid. Finally, she is not afraid. Finally, she can look at her blood-stained hands without humiliation. Is it her fault she was born a better knife than a person?

Bighorn sheep are not a primary food source in most areas. However, when a lion does kill a sheep, they typically will continue to do so over and over again, until the herd is depleted.

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