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#like not to bring up the fast and the furious again
garlic-sauc3 · 3 months
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I love when family members reflect another on media, when they'll say the same thing without realizing, have the same mannerisms, act the same, etc; it is so good
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kasagia · 9 days
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Right hand III
Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: After Feyd learns the truth about your dark past, you do everything in your power to prove your loyalty to him. He has many ideas for this... but will your life be able to go back to normal after that? You will either die at his hands, be exiled, return to the Bene Gesseit, or live by his side. And you yourself don't even know which of these options is worse... Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist
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His dagger digs lightly into your neck, blood slowly trickling down it. You don't try to fight him, you don't push the blade away or try to rip it out of his hand. You know that if you did, you would have been killed by him long ago.
You had to play it smart… and fast—before he slit your throat, which was becoming a more likely scenario with every second.
"Feyd…" You choke out once more, trying to make him look you in the eyes and get him to listen to you. The blood is seeping out of you faster and faster as he presses the blade harder against your throat.
"Silience, witch! You little plague, bane of my existence, poisonous viper, how long have you been playing with me? How long have you been faking all this? Did you think you could outsmart me? That you can deceive me? Make fun of me? Humiliate me? I should fuck you raw, use you like a whore, and leave you in your ridiculous sisterhood to rot with those old hags!" He shouts, pressing his blade harder against your throat. The cool steel of the metal on your skin is becoming a more serious threat to your life. You shiver as you feel him taking more blood from you.
"Feyd, listen…" You try to speak again, placing your hand on his wrist. He pushes your hand away as if it posed a radioactive threat greater than anything floating in Giedi Prime's atmosphere and glares at you furiously.
"NO! You lied to me. You betrayed me. You know how I punish people for disloyalty. You're lucky that I won't throw you to my soldiers so they can play with you before I give you to my harpies. But don't worry, I will take very good care of you. You'll die like those cowardly rats you helped me kill a few hours ago…"
"You... you would... kill me... if I told you... at the beginning..." You gasp as he grabs your neck tightly and drags his blade down your body, creating a trail of blood leading to your collarbone.
"I will kill you now." He growls hoarsely, completely cutting off the air from your respiratory tract.
Your eyes widen as he lifts you off the ground so that only your toes touch the floor. Tears well up in your eyes as you desperately try to draw in air, but his hand is wrapped too tightly around your neck for the oxygen to reach your lungs.
When you realised that it was over and that he had decided on your death, the moment that Lady Jessica told him the whole truth about you, you relaxed. You let a blissful emptiness wash over you as you slowly waited for him to take your life away. You close your eyes, rest your head against the wall behind you, and let your body slowly go limp as the seconds pass without air.
You gasp, surprised, as the grip on your neck loosens so that you can take small, ragged breaths. You quickly take advantage of the opportunity and take a few shaky breaths. You open your eyes, staring into Feyd's icy blue and furious gaze in utter shock.
Was he going to play with you before he killed you? Torture, like many before you, until he finds in himself some mercy and takes your life? Because if you know one thing, it's that you won't beg him to let you go. About nothing. Never. You were too proud to do so.
"Fight." He growls, pressing you harder against the wall. He leans forward, bringing his face very close to yours. You shiver, feeling his breath on your cheek as he carefully observes your reaction to his intimidation. Like a snake waiting for the right moment to attack.
"What?" You ask stupidly, not understanding what he is doing. You've often watched him play with his victims, prolonging their suffering and giving them no hope of escaping his grip... so why does he want you to fight? Why does he want you to resist him? Was this another sick game of his?
"Fight! Scream! Struggle! Why are you not doing anything?! Why don't you beg for your miserable life, Bene Gesserit's spy?! Fight with me! Fight back! FIGHT BACK!!" He screams and throws you against the wall.
Completely unprepared for him to completely release you from his grip, you fall to the floor, too weak to keep your balance on your own. You place your hands on the black metal sheet beneath you and breathe quickly, trying to get as much air as possible before he wraps his hand around your throat again.
"I… I was always… loyal… to you…" You gasp, still trying to recover from what just happened. He walks slowly towards you. He presses the tip of his sword under your chin and forces you to lift your head and look him in the eyes.
“You have five minutes before I treat you like I treat your mentor. Use this time well. I can always get bored and kill you faster.” He takes a step back and slowly slides the blade across your skin. He steps away from you to pour himself a drink, but he keeps watching you out of the corner of his eye. You take one brief glance at Lady Jessica's body before you can compose yourself enough to formulate any logical response.
"I... I have no idea what she told you. Where she lied and where it was convenient for her to tell the truth... but whatever she told you I did... she surely doesn't know the one, most important thing. She doesn't know the reason for my actions."
"Oh, but I do. You wanted to run away from them so you wouldn't have to breed with such a monster as me. You thought that as my right hand, you would be safe, that I wouldn't notice you in the shadows, that I wouldn't want you, and that I wouldn't touch you. But I did. And by doing so, I destroyed your plans. Tell me, how many times have you escaped from Giedi Prime in your fantasies? How many times have you wanted to leave for good?"
With each question he asks, he takes a step towards you, which makes him stand in front of you again. But you didn't get up from the floor. You didn't feel like it. Besides, you doubted he would let you stand up and be on an equal level with him. He needed to feel in control, to feel that he is still dominating over you—that he didn't lose control over you despite your... betrayal. Although you didn't think it was any kind of betrayal at all. A slight omission of a few facts. Nothing more.
"I... you can't blame me for that. Anyone with survival instincts would not willingly live on Giedi Prime. But I stayed." You decide to tell him some of the truth this time. For too long, you managed to play your cards well. You had to bend a little to his will without losing your claw and not behaving like an obedient concubine, wanting to fulfil all his orders and wishes, because that would make him more suspicious, and he would definitely kill you for trying to deceive him and lie to him again.
"You stayed out of fear." He questions your words, keeping his watchful, piercing gaze on you as he tries to find in you any trace of lying.
You almost shiver under the furious gaze of his icy blue eyes. Fortunately, you manage to refrain from showing him any reaction. The metallic scent of Lady Jessica's blood motivated you to survive like nothing had before. You somehow manage to recall some of your lessons and training sessions with her as you think about how to respond to Feyd's words. Maybe her methods and rules didn't keep her alive, but unlike her, you knew Feyda-Rautha too damn well. You could get out of this. You just had to play it smart and sacrifice a few things…
"Out of loyalty to you. Sense of duty and honor. Something I thought we both shared." You say confidently, meeting his gaze bravely.
However, your attitude does not impress him at all. He lazily turns the dagger in his hands, playing with the sharp blade. He doesn't take his eyes off you, even for a moment. He just stands there, maintaining a completely calm and unruffled demeanor. It's hard to imagine now that just a moment ago, this man was overcome with the greatest anger of his entire life. You've seen him in many states, but you have never seen him that mad. Rabban may have been called a beast by others, but the real threat was his younger brother. Especially when his first anger was over and it was time for the cold calculation of revenge.
“Was that loyalty and sense of duty also present in you when you chose to ignore the fact that you were supposed to be mine? That you are destined to give me an heir so strong that the whole world will kneel before him?” This time, you can't help but shudder. He notices this and chuckles darkly, shaking his head. In a split second, the tip of his blade is once again pressed on the thin and delicate skin of your throat. You swallow, and when you meet his gaze, you realise that you have to tell the truth if you don't want to die on your knees in front of him.
"If your uncle told you to marry me and have your offspring with me, would you do it?" A frown appears on his forehead at the mere mention of the baron. His hand trembles slightly as a new wave of rage washes over him.
"What does he have to do with this?" He asks hoarsely, as he suspects you of working with his uncle. After all, you were smart enough to play both sides.
Feyd wouldn't be surprised if you reported everything he was doing to his uncle behind his back. That's why he preferred having you—a cunning, beautiful witch who was now kneeling before him—by his side. Because you were drop-dead perfect. He never expected you to make such a stupid mistake. To ever let him gain even the slightest doubt about your loyalty.
"Nothing. But the Bene Gesserit were to me what your uncle is to you. And after running away from them, the last thing I wanted to do was follow the last sick order they gave me." The years you spent with him gave you enough information about the family relationship at House Harkonnen.
They are like predators waiting for the right moment to attack, always prepared to hurt the other one when he shows even a tiny glimmer of weakness. You also know Feyd's past... or rather, the history of scars on his back. Unfortunately, these were not the only marks the baron left on him.
You hold your breath as he grabs your hair and pulls you up. You get up on your feet, and, being on an equal level with him, you no longer hesitate to look him in the eye. He releases your hair with the other, only to move it to your cheek and neck. He rubs tiny droplets of blood across yours, shifting his attention to your skin. He caresses your jawline with his finger and suddenly tilts your head back, giving himself a better view of your reddened throat, which has begun to form bruises in the shape of his fingers from how he choked you just moments ago. You swallow, watching him closely.
"And yet you served me for many years. You stayed with me after they wanted to link your future with mine. Why?"
“I was hoping the last place they would look for me would be Giedi Prime by your side. And that… after all, you won't be interested in me.”
"But I was. This must have spoiled your plans, right?"
"A little." You confess, hoping to gain something from your honesty.
After your words, there is a long silence in the room. He removes his hand from you, staring intently at you as he considers your words. You wait in suspense and anticipation for his next decision.
One quick move was enough to take your life.
And from the look in his eyes, you know it must have been tempting for him to add your blood to Lady Jessica's, which was already staining the floor of the ship.
"On your knees." His command is so sudden that it takes you a moment for your brain to process what he said.
All you can do is stare at him blankly, your heart beating with excitement and terror at the thought of his words. He didn't want to… he couldn't now… You look down at his pants and swallow, seeing the slight bulge. You hold your breath as he takes a step towards you and presses his hard length against your thigh, which undoubtedly confirms your suspicions. He lifts your chin with two fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes as you blush and realise what he is asking you to do.
"I love your doe eyes, my pet, but there's a time and a place for everything. On your knees or your heart will become another decoration of my chambers." He says it huskily, caressing your chin before letting go. He stares at you expectantly, waiting for your next move.
You swallow again, feeling a huge lump in your throat. Your mind is racing, but you know, as he does, that you have no escape. Your position is hopeless; you can either give him a blowjob or die, and you don't want to do any of it. Or touch him in any way after he disembowelled Lady Jessica in front of you. But the prospect of being his next victim reluctantly brings you to your knees before him.
"Good girl." He hums, tilting your chin slightly so you're looking at him and not the floor between you. He takes a step towards you and attaches the dagger to his arm. "Show me that your beautiful, deceptive, tempting lips, throat, and larynx can do more than feed me with sweet lies, and maybe I won't cut them out of you."
You hold your breath, your eyes trailing down to his pants. You hear him chuckle darkly before he takes your hands in his and places them on the fastenings of his pants, guiding your hands as you gradually free his length from his armour.
You swallow again at the sight of his full, hard length and curse him, as the rumours about him do not lie at all. He was enormous. Long and not too thick, but not thin either. You don't know if you'd rather he tried to cut your throat with a knife than pierce it with what stood proud between you.
"Rumours say you know how to do it. I don't remember how many soldiers I killed for the privilege of having your body before me. But each of them shared one opinion. Your fire burns as bright in battle as it does in the bedroom. Show me, my little witch, how much you care about continuing to be my right hand and having all the privileges you had." He encourages you mockingly when you stare at his slightly pre-cum-dripping cock for too long for his liking. But damn, his cum was black. You were sure as hell that the bastard was going to paint you with it.
You give him an angry, cold glare as you wrap your hand around his length. He lets out a soft moan, grabbing your jaw to make sure you keep your eyes on his. You swallow, stroking his length with slow movements of your hand as he gets even harder. Part of you is glad that he wants you to look at him. You doubt you could keep your composure if you had to look at what you had to fit in your mouth… and hopefully only in your mouth.
He growls when you drag out the inevitable too long, using only your hands on him. You can see that he likes what you're doing, but the impatience radiating from him makes you realise that it won't end with just a few caresses of your hands around his length.
Reluctantly, you lean down and wrap your lips around his tip, sucking him gently—like candy. You taste his pre-cum on your tongue, surprisingly taking in its… not-so-horrible taste. It's bittersweet on your tongue and thick. You shudder at the thought of what he would feel like inside you.
He groans, burring his hands in your hair as he gently pushes you on him to make you take more of his cock into your mouth. You choke as his length suddenly hits the back of your throat. Surprisingly, he stops pushing you and just keeps his hands in your hair, letting you adjust to his full length.
"I've always liked your hair..." He starts tugging on them to correct your rhythm. "A natural leash for my beautiful, dangerous pet..."
You growl around him in anger at his words. He groans throatily, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth at the extra stimulation he got from you. You feel tears slowly begin to well up in your eyes as he allows himself to move his hips more and more, lazily thrusting into your throat. Your saliva mixes with his pre-cum, staining the corners of your mouth.
It amazes you how gentle he is with you. How he doesn't push you too far so as not to cause you the pain you know he loves to enjoy. More than once, you had to call the medic to his concubines. Even his harpies occasionally got injured when he used them for his pleasure after a particularly exciting fight. You knew how… he could get lost in his pleasure. Yet he was extremely careful with you.
He starts thrusting into your throat faster and faster, guiding your head by your hair in time with his thrusts. You let your tears fall as he picked up a pace you couldn't keep up with. You close your eyes and feel a tear roll down your cheek. You open them, meeting his gaze, when you feel his thumb brush away your falling tear. He licked it off his finger, purring at its salty flavour.
You wrap your hands around his balls, massaging them in a circular motion, trying to make him come as quickly as possible. He laughs throatily, pounding stupidly into your mouth. Your jaw starts to hurt. You prop yourself up on his thigh with one hand, unable to stay on your knees for long on your own.
Seeing that you're having difficulty, he slows down a little, lazily digging into your throat. He luxuriated in the warmth of your mouth, and your tongue caressed his length. His gaze never falters, as he maintains eye contact with you the entire time. He strokes your cheek with his hand, then moves to your throat as he gently uses his fingertips to feel the bulge in your throat caused by his cock.
"I'll take you. Fast and hard. You'll cry as beautifully as you do now and writhe beneath me desperately, trying to escape like always, but you'll be so impaled on my cock and wrapped in the tight embrace of my arms that you won't move a fucking millimetre without my permission. I will fuck into you our Kwisatz Haderach, so no one will ever doubt that it should have been otherwise, that you don't belong with me. And the best of all is that you will not know the damn day or hour when it will happen. You will learn how to be my whore and baroness, just like you learned how to be my right hand. You'll do great, my little witch. You prove very well with your mouth and hands what a wonderful right hand you are. Much better than my own fucking hand. Much better than any of the fantasies I had. My little witch, always attending to my every need. Only fucking mine."
He moans, speeding up drastically, chasing his peak. You feel him getting closer to his orgasm as he becomes impossibly harder in your mouth and his balls tighten, ready to release his black cum. He keeps making you look at him until he growls loudly, coming into your mouth.
Earlier, you were gagging with just his length in your mouth. Now you really choke as his seed spills down your throat. He presses you against him, your nose brushing against his pubic bone, making you swallow all of his cum until it's completely inside you. Its taste is pungent, reminding you of a spicy, bitter spice.
He stays in your mouth for a while after he finishes pouring into you. He massages your scalp with his hands, clearly not wanting to release you. His cock twitches slightly, and you fear he's about to give you a second round.
He sighs, reluctantly pulling out of your mouth. He grabs your hands and guides them to his pants. You cleaned him and put him back in his pants without saying a word. You are not even looking into his eyes, knowing full well that a satisfied smile will spread across his lips the moment you do.
He grabs your arms and lifts you off your knees. You shiver, unable to stay on your two feet after being on your knees for so long, and you fall into his arms, leaning completely against him. He laughs huskily, pulling you closer to his chest. He uses his fingertip to collect the last of your saliva and his cum from the corners of your mouth and pushes his fingers into your mouth. You suck on them, meeting his eyes with your defiant, angry gaze.
He hums, smiling darkly as he watches with satisfaction as you lick his fingers. He leans forward, his nose brushing your cheek as he licks from your face and then from your neck the droplets of his black cum that leaked from your mouth as you tried to swallow everything he poured into you. You shiver as his tongue caresses the skin of your neck, tracing the small, sealed wound he inflicted on you with his dagger. He hums against your neck, disappointed at how quickly your blood clots.
Suddenly, he lets you completely go. You can barely keep your balance as he walks away from you.
"If that Atreides' bitch survived, so did her pathetic puppy. Send a message to our people in the desert. Paul Atredis is alive. We have to kill him before he and the rebels start a revolt and destroy our plans. Clean up here too. Tomorrow we have half a tribe of these rats to interrogate."
You nod dumbly, trying to understand what the hell just happened. Just a few hours ago, you were afraid for your life, and now that you... have pleased him, he acts like nothing has happened. You come to the conclusion that it bothered you more than when he pressed his blade against your throat.
"Ah, and Y/N." He says, stopping at the door and turning to look at you one last time before leaving the room. You can tell by the mischievous smile on his lips that he has nothing good planned for you. "I want to see you in my chambers tonight."
He doesn't wait for your reaction or response. He just walks out with a springy, energetic step, closing the door behind him with a bang.
You shiver as you find yourself alone in the room with Lady Jessica's corpse. You look around, and, in a desperate attempt to find some positives, you decide that at least your blood isn't staining the floor of the ship... or at least not yet.
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His chambers in the main base on Arrakis are not as... ornately terrifying as those he had in Giedi Prime. You wouldn't guess that someone important lived there. It was an ordinary room with a bed, a chest of drawers, and a bathroom. No amenities, just a commander's room; definitely too poor for a na-baron.
You shiver as you feel his hand on your hip. He pulls you to his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your hair. He sighs, inhaling your scent. The warm air on your neck is tickling you gently. You think about how it's been too easy for him to sneak up on you lately. You've gone out of shape.
"Are you planning how to escape, little witch?" He whispers hoarsely, playing with the fabric of your nightgown.
"I didn't. And believe me, I had better opportunities in the past. So why would I escape now?" You answer his question with your own one, irritated by his suspicions.
"Because unlike me, you are very reluctant to welcome our Kwisatz Haderach into this world." You roll your eyes at his words and turn your head to give him an annoyed look. He shrugs with a smirk. He presses a kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder before resting his chin on it. "You're obviously trying to distance yourself from me, too." He adds, seeing the irritated frown on your forehead.
“Weren't you the one who thought the Bene Gesserit prophecies were just bullshit from stoned old women?” You ask, raising your eyebrows in challenge.
"I did… but this particular one seems very convincing..." He purrs into your neck. He moves one hand from your hip so his finger can trace the red line of the wound he gave you with the dagger. He tilted your head back, forcing you to rest your head on his shoulder as he placed a trail of kisses on the small scar.
"Where are your harpies?" You ask when he starts showing too much interest in your neck, peppering it with kisses.
"Should I call them? Would you like them to join us?" You wrinkle your nose, at which he laughs, amused, tightening his hold on you.
"Of course not. You know that I have... no sympathy for them." You grumble, trying to break free from his grip, which, of course, he won't let you.
"The feeling is mutual. You know, they think you're stealing me from them. And that I will quickly get bored with you, like with other... oriental pets I had, and I will come back to them."
"What are you waiting for, then?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. He chuckles darkly, shaking his head. His hand plays with the strap of your black sleep gown, gently stroking your bare skin. He leans down, nuzzling your temple, and whispers in your ear:
“The problem is, my dear little witch, that you have taken over every ounce of my thoughts. My dreams, my nights, my days… it seems only right that I get back the time I wasted dreaming about you, right?”
You shiver, both from his words and from the way his hand slides over your body like a snake. He strokes your breasts, taking a moment to focus on them before his hand rests on your hips again. He presses you against him, clinging to you like a second skin.
"Let's go to bed. It was a very long day. For both of us..." He says, directing you towards his bed. You resist him slightly by digging your heels into the floor, but he quickly counters this by lifting you up gently, leaving your feet dangling in the air.
"Wouldn't you rather sleep alone? It's pretty warm here." You try to get out of it one last time, feeling the soft silk of his black sheets beneath you as he gently places you on his bed. He laughs mockingly, amused by your poor attempt at escape.
"Not at night. You know that well. I'd rather keep an eye on you, little witch. We don't know what monsters may be lurking in the darkness of Arrakis after we killed the Reverend Mother of those rats." He purrs, laying down next to you. You sigh as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to him, knowing full well that your safety is the last thing he's worried about right now.
"If Paul Atreides survived, it is very likely that he could be Muad'Dib. He will come here. To avenge his mother and unborn sister." You warned him. You're trying to make this situation more… normal. Lying in his bed and in his arms wasn't the least bit normal for you, but making plans with him was. You needed to keep your mind occupied until you could fall asleep… if he let you fall asleep.
"You didn't stop me from killing her. You didn't say a word. Why? Were you afraid you'd be next?"
You shake your head. You're not going to tell him the whole truth about what you felt back then, but you know you can't lie to him. You have to tell him at least half the truth if you want to regain some of his trust... at least until you escape.
"Lady Jessica believed that Paul was the real Kwisatz Haderach, since she gave Duke Leto a son instead of a daughter. The Bene Gesserit resented her for this. She was supposed to give him a daughter. A daughter who was to marry you and give you a real Kwisatz Haderach. By disobeying their orders, she fell into their disfavour... until she gave them the idea that they might as well... fuse me with you to secure your bloodline. But the Bene Gesserit came up with the idea that I was going to be the mother of the Kwisatz Haderach. If I hadn't gone with you that night... I might as well have died at her hands. I… I guess I was glad that I survived her."
Not looking at his face helps you partially open up to him. You didn't like remembering your past. This was the one thing you had in common. You try your best to reveal as little to him as you have to, unconsciously tracing patterns in his hand as he keeps hugging you from behind. If you turned around, you would have seen his small smile at your gesture quickly disappear as he sensed the growing tension within you at the thought of Lady Jessica.
"If I had known, I would have made it more painful for her." He states, taking your hand in his and squeezing it. You look down at your joined hands and frown as he slowly strokes the skin of your hand with his thumb.
"Why?" You ask in a whisper, not moving an inch when he buries his nose in your hair.
"Because no one hurts what's mine."You snort, knowing full well the true meaning of his words. If you were just a naive young girl, you would believe in the good intentions behind these words. However, you know Feyd Rautha too well to naively believe that he won't break his favourite toys. He grabs your chin in a tight grip and turns you to face him. You swallow thickly as his intense gaze meets yours. You've never had the chance to look so closely at his icy blue eyes... "I want you by my side all the time. I need to make sure you're not planning anything behind my back, little witch."
"Haven't I proven my loyalty enough?" You ask, placing your hands on his bare chest and pushing yourself away from him gently. He chuckles darkly, letting go of your chin in a split second to grab your wrists in a tight grip. He lifts your hands, pushing them away from him and twisting them so you can't move them.
"I believe you are capable of doing much more." He murmurs against your throat, pressing kisses there and lazily sucking at your skin, which was already irritated by his dagger.
You squirm in his arms, trying to somehow protect your neck from his wandering lips. Your attempts fail, as you only give him more fun by grinding against him in a desperate attempt to escape.
Eventually, he gets bored and decides to let you go. He lets you turn your back on him again, but you don't get far. His arms wrap around you, holding you in a cage as he takes on the role of the big spoon.
"I will bring you the head of Atreides on a golden plate. There is only one Kwisatz Haderach—our future son. I won't let some dog from Caladan tell people otherwise." He whispers in your ear. You shiver, half-wishing you were stupid enough to believe in his devotion. The fact that someone can do anything you want for you. But it wasn't love. It was just an obsession. You had to remember that.
"Maybe he really is the one… or maybe it's all just nonsense made up by those old hags? Maybe there will be no Kwisatz Haderach at all? What's then?" He doesn't answer your questions. However, you manage to get some reaction out of him.
He pulls away from you, the bed creaking beneath him as you hear him turn over to his other side. The sudden chill of not having his body close to yours makes you shiver.
You find yourself regretting for a moment that whatever you said made him distance himself from you. You shake your head and sigh, sinking deeper into the pillows. You try to find the most comfortable position possible when settling down to sleep. But for some reason, you don't feel tired at all. Your eyes are wide open as you listen to his soft breathing, the only other sound in the empty room.
"How did you find out about… uncle?" His sudden question makes you turn towards him. He remains turned away from you, ignoring any movement from you. You think for a moment, staring at the scars scattered across his pale, muscular back, before answering him.
"I have eyes and ears. And enough brain cells to… deduce a few things." You whisper, tracing a particularly nasty-looking scar on his back with the pad of your thumb. "I also... I went through something similar. I've told you that before. Bene Gesserit was to me what your uncle is to you." He turns slowly to face you at your words. His eyes examine you so thoroughly that you feel another shiver run through your body.
This time, when he reaches out to cup your cheek, you don't fight him. You let him, trying to decipher the unreadable look in his eyes as he continues to consider your words.
"Tell me... how could I resist when you're like this? How could I ignore you and leave you in your shadows when everything you do fascinates me to a madness that only you can heal?" He asks, tracing the line of your lips with the pad of his thumb.
"You wanted to kill me today." You remind him in an accusatory tone. You bite the tip of his finger, which only brings a smirk to his face as he moves his hand away from your face. He places it on your hip, squeezing it in a silient warning.
"I wanted to scare you. You lied to me, so you needed some punishment. Besides, you know perfectly well that if I really wanted to kill you, you would already be dead."
"Not telling the whole truth is not a lie. Besides… your intentions don't make this situation any different to me." You huff, rolling your eyes. He laughs huskily, caressing your hip through the fabric of your nightgown as he moves closer to you on the bed. Your chest is pressed against his. Both of you are breathing steadily and slowly, staring intently into each other's eyes.
"Are you afraid of the little old me, my little witch?" He asks teasingly. You catch yourself watching the sparkle of amusement in his eyes shine surprisingly brightly under the light of the Arrakis moon. You can't make yourself turn your gaze off of him. And that's what terrifies you.
"Should I?" You ask in a whisper, trembling, not giving him an ounce of trust. Seeing your extremely distrustful and hostile attitude, he stops smiling. He looks at you more seriously, as he is deep into his thinking.
He doesn't respond to you. He places a kiss on your forehead and turns your back to him. He holds you tightly, buries his nose in your hair, and slowly falls asleep, wrapping himself in your warmth and scent. On your back, you feel his heart beating calmly in his strong, well-built chest. You allow yourself to sigh shakily, being finally 'alone' for the first time since this fateful day began.
And you realise that you're not afraid of him at all. The only person you are afraid of is yourself. That you would give in to your strange attraction to him one day and seal your fate. You didn't want to die. But you'd rather find yourself buried under the sands of Arrakis than let those Bene Gesserit witches control your life ever again.
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"If you tear this, you'll be walking around with my hand around your throat." He warns you, seeing you struggling with the black leather choker around your neck he gave you. It looked like a fucking collar. And it was a bit too tight for you to feel comfortable in it.
"You give me so many options…" You snort sarcastically, leaving the damn choker around your neck. "I look like a fucking whore." You say and turn towards him to look at him carefully.
He wore his more formal black armour with a cape that was as dark as the rest of his outfit. He smiles sarcastically and walks over to you. He smoothes the fabric of your dress on your waist and places his hands on your hips.
"Whore? Not at all. More like my pet." He hums, trying to take in your form in a form-fitting black dress. The silver chains on your hips and chest connect into a spider's web that flows down with the fabric of the skirt of the dress, which surprisingly doesn't cling as tightly to your body as the bodice of the dress does.
It's... definitely a bolder outfit than you're used to wearing. And this time, your hair was loose. The maids put silver accessories and small diamond jewels into your hair. You were a nicely wrapped gift, especially prepared for the Na-Baron's birthday.
"What's the difference?" You ask, raising an eyebrow defiantly.
"Calm down, little witch. Rumours about your past spread quickly. We can't let people see me as a weak man who fell under the spell of a Bene Gesserit, can we?" He teases you. He leans towards you and nuzzles your cheek before his lips start to trace a path along your jaw to your neck. You sigh slightly and place your hands on his chest, trying to keep him at a distance.
"Please. Don't pretend you're not doing it for your own fucking satisfaction." You snap at him, still trying to push him away. He puts the dagger on your neck rather quickly and too suddenly, making you refrain from any form of protest for a moment as he decorates your neck with hickeys.
"I'm not even trying to deny it at all… you look stunning, by the way." He growls hoarsely. His blade moves from your neck to the top of your corset, pressing the tip against the valley between your breasts. You sigh, feeling the coolness of the blade against your chest.
"They are waiting for you." You whisper as he nuzzles his nose against yours.
"We have a moment... besides, it's my birthday. Don't you want to celebrate my adulthood?" His low tone of voice sends shivers down your spine. Even after he tosses his blade aside, you make no move to try to walk away from him.
"You're still acting like the horny teenager I met. I doubt you will ever grow up."
"Watch what you say… I can always show you how hornier I became." His warning is not just lip service. He shows it to you... very clearly as his hard length rubs against your thigh.
You grab his jaw tightly and take a step away from him. He laughs, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back into his arms in one quick movement. You gasp in shock, falling into his chest. You struggle in his embrace until he slaps your ass. You glare at him furiously, at which he only tightens his grip on you.
"I want you to paint my body before the fight." He mumbles, caressing your cheek as you try to pull your head back from him.
Leading members of the high houses gathered on Arrakis to celebrate his birthday and the fact that he had managed to restore the mining and export of spices to extraordinary levels.
Feyd was to put on a spectacle, killing the most dangerous Fremen who managed to be kept alive during interrogations. However, you and Feyd have bigger worries to take care of right now. Like the baron and the emperor. Or Paul Atreides... or rather, their Muad'dib, who has not been found by you yet. Something Feyd decided to ignore for now in favor of groping you and trying to get into your pants.
Over the last few weeks, he has clung to you like a limpet. It made it very difficult for you to do any work or spy, as he was literally following you around. You felt like his favourite dog on a leash, taken for walks around the building before locking you in his chambers for the night, keeping you close to him. Even his harpies couldn't take his attention away from you. Something you really hoped would happen soon.
"It's always been… your harpies' privilege." You say as he tangles his hand in your hair.
"And now I want you to do it." He says it calmly, caressing your cheek as you try to pull your head back from him. "Do you mind?" You huff at his condescending question.
"Don't ask me questions like that; otherwise, I'll start thinking that I really have a choice here." He laughs, showing you a set of his freshly painted black teeth and shakes his head at you.
"We both know you're too smart for that, my shrewd little witch." He says this and leans in, gently brushing your lips with his. He keeps a tight grip on your hair as his kiss becomes more intense and possessive. He tightens his grip on your waist, tugging at the fabric of your dress, causing the silver chains on it to clang against each other with every move of his hand.
His hand reaches for the strings of your corset at the back, but before he can untie even one of them, there's a knock on the door.
"My Lord Na-Baron, the Baron, and your brother have just landed on Arrakis. The emperor should also be arriving soon."
You feel him tense slightly as he pulls away from you. His face hardens as he puts on his emotionless mask, staring out the window, where he could probably see the ship landing.
"Come on, little witch. I don't need to remind you to be on your best behaviour, right?" You roll your eyes at him, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow.
"I think I can play your concubine for a day. Consider this my birthday gift to you, my Na-Baron." You say it sarcastically and sweetly, walking with him out of his room and towards the great hall where he would greet everyone gathered. If you were lucky enough, you might be able to escape from him for a moment or two...
"In my chambers as well?" He asks teasingly, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him trying not to smile, but the corner of his lip twitches, giving him away (at least to you).
"Anywhere but there." You reply quickly, making him smile this time. At least for a second. After all, he has a reputation to uphold.
"That's okay. We don't need to do it there. There are so many other places…" He whispers hoarsely in your ear before you enter the room where the first party is to be held. You can't stop a cold shiver from running down your spine.
Doors are opening for you. You wait for him to let go of your waist and move in front of you like he usually does at these types of parties with the concubines he brought for company, but he doesn't do that at all. Instead, he tightens his grip on your waist and holds you by his side as he navigates through the sea of people. You can't help but blush slightly.
If you had any doubts over the last few weeks that he was no longer interested in you, they were gone with his small gesture. He will indeed ruin you. As soon as he finds the opportunity suitable. You were afraid that the evening of his birthday might be considered in his eyes as a perfect time to do this.
But somehow you manage to get out of his sight. You position yourself against the wall, having a perfect view of the most important people in the room. The Baron and Feyd were talking about something with the Emperor and his daughter. You look at them curiously, especially since the Harkonnens have their backs turned to you. And looking at Princess Irulan in a silver dress that was constructed to resemble armour, you see in her your chance for freedom. If Feyd married her, he would probably get over his strange obsession with you.
"Lady Y/N." Feyd's older brother's mocking greeting reaches your ears. You turn to him, taking your eyes off Feyd for a moment, and nod to the man standing next to you.
"Count Rabban."
"I heard you and my brother dealt with the rats of Arrakis. My congratulations." You are quite wary of his civilised attitude. The last time you saw him, Feyd made him kiss his shoes. And yours. So you definitely didn't stay in... a neutral relationship after that.
"Na-Baron is a great commander." You reply with a polite smile. Your eyes involuntarily wander to Feyd. There's a knot in your stomach when you see him talking to the princess. You frown, wondering what the hell is wrong with you.
"I have no doubt." He nods, also looking at Feyd. "He will destroy you. Like any toy he had before you. When you lose your usefulness, he will throw you to his harpies. He's more unpredictable than me or even my uncle. But you know that... so what are you still doing by his side?" He asks, turning his gaze on you.
"I am his right hand. I live to serve him." You answer automatically, shrugging your shoulders.
"If I had known that Bene Gesserit witches were so devoted, I might have appointed one to be my right hand."
"Believe me, count Rabban, the overwhelming majority would not serve him or anyone else so loyally as I do. They would probably prefer to poison themselves." He laughs at your words, taking two drinks from the passing servant. He hands you one, but you shake your head. "I don't drink if I don't have to. Old habits from my home planet. My mother would slap my sisters and me on the hands until she could see our bones as a punishment for stealing a drink or two." You're half lying when you remember how the Reverend Mothers made sure you were completely… untainted by any substances that could make you less healthy. All for breeding. Like farm animals.
"And they say the Harkonnens are monsters. At least you can get drunk with us… well, before we torture you to death or accidentally kill you."
"I've gotten used to it. Fortunately, I have fast reflexes." You reply with a smirk, knowing full well what he's trying to do. He wanted to ingratiate himself with you while you were still important in the Harkonnen court. His brother currently despised him, and his uncle probably did too. He saw an opportunity to increase his political influence when he spotted you alone.
Suddenly, you feel someone's intense gaze on you. You turned your face to notice that Feyd's eyes were on you and not on the princess, with whom he was still talking. Judging by the way your skin was burning from the look Feyd was giving you, you could tell he didn't like his brother being close to you at all.
And Feyd was incredibly pissed off and furious. In his eyes, Rabban wasn't worthy enough of your time, attention, or even being close to you to have the pleasure to smell the scent of your perfumes. But not only did his brother have the courage to talk to you; he even made you smile. Feyd was already planning in his mind how to tear his head off.
Na-Baron would have done just that if an arrow had not suddenly passed between him and Princess Irulan.
Panic filled the room when suddenly, a hail of arrows hit random people. You grabbed your blade and were about to move towards the first archer you noticed, but suddenly a cold steel was pressed against your neck. The Fremen woman holds you tight. You can only stand there calmly and watch as they overpower the more important representatives of the great families, leading the less important people out of the room. Feyd's blue irises are focused on you all the time, which surprisingly makes you feel a little better.
"Silience!" You freeze when you see Paul Atreides emerge from the crowd of Fremen.
Your informants haven't told you much about him. He had done well since he was forced to live on Arrakis among the Fremen. He became stronger, smarter, and more ruthless. He had no weaknesses… except one. You look around the room, your eyes locking on the woman who stood a few metres away from you. His lover.
If living among powerful men taught you anything, it was that they only had a few weaknesses. Fear for their lives, property, title, and, among those younger and less experienced in life, their loved ones. But Paul Atreides changed on Arrakis. He wasn't the little boy you knew during your training with his mother. You could only hope that he loved his woman enough to consider rescuing her. Maybe you will buy enough time before your trops, waiting on ships above Arrakis, come to rescue you.
"Let me go. Give me your blade. Keep your mouth shut and close your eyes for the next 30 minutes." You use your voice on the woman who holds you.
While she does what you told her, you try to get to Atreides' lover unnoticed. You ignore his speech; your heart is racing in your chest, and all you can hear is the sound of your blood flowing in your blood vessels.
When you reach the Fremen woman, you quickly disarm her and press your dagger to her neck. Atreides stops his speech. Before anyone can react, you take a deep breath and say loudly:
"Everyone ten steps back. Stay still, or slit your throat with the nearest weapon." Everyone in the room is listening to you. You have to take a few steps back with the woman you have in your iron grip. You tremble as you feel the eyes of everyone in the room on you, especially Feyd's. However, your gaze is fixed only on Paul Atreides.
"This is impossible… what are you?" He asks in shock, not moving after you forced him and everyone else in the room to back away from you.
"It doesn't matter, Atreides. Take your men and get out of here. I advise you well." You growl furiously at him. You feel the blood start to pulsate in your veins. The old wound on your side is slowly starting to open up under the pressure your body is going through. You're glad you're wearing a black dress. At least not all of them will see the blood stain on your dress when it will be leaking out of you more and more by the second.
"You cannot keep them under your will forever. You'll soon get tired, faint, or bleed to death." He reasons, fully aware that your crowd control is time-limited.
"My men will be landing here soon. They'll take everyone who counts and fly away with us, raining nuclear bombs on your precious little desert. The spice from these areas may have been contaminated for several centuries, but we still have the opposite pole of Arrakis to exploit and extract it. So better choose wisely."
He frowns at your words, looking at you carefully and analysing your facial expressions carefully. You stare at him hard and unfazed, even though you feel the fabric of your dress sticking to your open wound. You have a staring fight with each other until you press your dagger a little more into the woman's throat and take her blood. He looks briefly at his girl before he opens his mouth to speak.
"We've met before, right?"
"You have one minute to make a decision before I make your woman bleed to death in front of you." You say hoarsely, feeling your muscles tremble slightly. But you hold on with all your might, maintaining your calm, dangerous, hostile attitude.
You all wait in suspense to see what he will do. He might as well attack and kill you, risking his men overpowering any reinforcements that come to your rescue. But you hope he's considerate enough to back off. If not because of the people who came after him, then because of his girlfriend or concubine, whose life now depends solely on you.
You almost sigh in fucking relief when he takes a step back. You let him get out of your control, looking at him carefully all the time. You swallowed and let go of his woman.
"Follow your Muad'Dib." You command the people of the desert. They stare at you for a moment before their eyes rest anxiously on their leader. He nods at them as he slowly leaves the room.
As quickly as they arrived, they left. You stand at attention for a long time—a minute, an hour, or hours—until you hear the ship approaching and the movement of the sands of Arrakis under the influence of sandworms.
They left. You realise this with relief. However, it is a very short-lived relief. It ends when your eyes meet the eyes of the reverend mothers, who are clearly communicating with each other. You fucked up. You revealed that you were a Bene Gesserit, or at least that you knew some of their tricks. Unconsciously, you completely let go of control over the gathered crowd.
"Why didn't you wait for your people so we could kill them? Kill him?" The emperor's voice reaches you vaguely. You raise your head and meet the gaze of an old man standing a few steps away from you.
"I bluffed, my emperor." You reply shakily, feeling blood start to flow from your nose as well.
"What?" He asks in shock, unable to believe that all your talk was a pure bluff. You don't have the strength to explain anything. You can stare blankly at the floor, feeling your strength slowly begin to drain away after you use the voice on the people gathered in the room.
"I bluffed." You repeat, feeling your heart beat rapidly against your chest. Your vision becomes completely blurry; all you can hear is the buzzing in your ears, the pounding of your heart, and the slow dripping of your blood onto the floor.
"But… you…" Whatever he was about to say, he's interrupted by you falling to your knees. You don't register at all what's happening around you. The only thing you are sure of is that there are suddenly a lot of people around you.
You're clinging to what little consciousness you have when you suddenly feel something pull you against the hard wall of muscle. You lean against the unexpected support, slowly drifting into blissful unconsciousness as you no longer feel the pain from the open wound on your side. The hoarse call of your name makes you a little more aware, enough to distinguish Feyd's voice from the indistinct gibberish around you.
"Get a medic here!"
He whispers something else to you as he brushes your hair out of your face, but you don't hear anything anymore. You let yourself go into the blissful darkness, happy that you can rest, at least for a moment. And you feel surprisingly comfortable, with the warmth of his arms and his scent being the last things you feel before passing out.
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You're surprised that when you wake up in the hospital wing, there's no one at your bed, looking at you like a guard dog. Once you get used to the feeling of being fully aware, you rub your eyes. The moonlight shines through the window, illuminating a dark and empty room you found yourself in.
You ignore the strange twinge in your chest when you don't see your Na-Baron anywhere near you and slowly sit up on the bed. You check the status of your wound and are pleased to see that you are in a more stable condition than you were a few hours ago.
You place your feet on the floor and slowly stand up, testing your muscles. You're relieved to see that it's not as bad as it was in the past. You walk over to the chair where a black silk robe is hanging and put it on. You take a moment to search the room, smiling hugely when you find your daggers on the nightstand next to your bed. You attach one to your thigh and tuck the other inside the sleeve of your robe. Maintaining great silence, you tiptoe out of the room.
You sigh in relief as you wander the empty corridors again, hiding in their shadows. You feel like a newborn, like a fish that has returned to the current of a familiar river. You weren't aware of how therapeutic it was for you to wander the halls alone at night until Feyd trapped you in his arms and his bed practically every night. You missed it. Very much so.
However, today's attempted attack by Atreides made you realise that you were too focused on getting away from Harkonnen and trying to keep him at a distance. You had to take action. Otherwise, Paul Atreides will cut off your head, just like his mother once wanted to do.
You shudder as you remember the day you escaped from the Bene Gesserit sisters' sanctum.
You ran barefoot through familiar corridors in the cold, dark night. You didn't need a torch or other light. You had lived within these walls long enough to know which corridors ended in dead ends and where to turn to reach each gate. But Lady Jessica knew them as well as you. You had to be a lot smarter if you were going to escape the woman who wanted you dead.
Yesterday there was a great meeting of Reverend Mothers after Lady Jessica failed to give birth to Leto Atreides' daughter at the right time. The Reverend Mothers had to find... a new breeding mare for Feyd Rauthy, from whose blood the Kwisatz Haderach was to be created. They chose you. And now, because of this honour that had been a death sentence for you from the very beginning—a curse, an evil fate that seemed to have stuck with you since your birth—Lady Jessica had tried to kill you in your sleep and was now trying to complete her work.
You decide to go to the ramp, hoping that you might be able to capture some small ship—something flying around—that would get you away from those damn Bene Gesserit.
You knew you were too weak to fight Lady Jessica. She taught you a lot, but not how to defeat someone stronger, like her. If you wanted to live, you needed to find a way to escape.
You speed up as you hear the click of her heels behind you. You run as fast as you can, reaching the door just as Lady Jessica appears at the end of the hall. You close the door behind you with a loud snap. You sigh, leaning against it for a moment. You freeze as you feel the blade against your throat.
"Step away." You order in panic before opening your eyes. A cold chill runs through you as you see Na-Baron Harkonnen's cold blue irises staring at you in shock as he obediently steps away from you.
You stand there for a few minutes, staring at each other without saying anything. Na-Baron examines you carefully: your dishevelled state, rapid breathing, red cheeks, and bare feet. You have no idea what he deduced, but it was enough for him to not immediately slit your throat for using the voice on him.
"You should go back to your sisters, little witch. Unless you want to join me, I wouldn't say no to the company of... such a pretty mouse." He speaks hoarsely. He doesn't wait for your answer, though. He simply turns and walks slowly towards the ship his men are packing. You swallow and wonder: Is death at the hands of Lady Jessica or at the hands of Harkonnen? Your pride chooses for you.
"I'm not a mouse, I'm a warrior." You reply, gathering all your inner courage. Na-Baron stops in his way.
His raspy laugh sends another shiver down your spine as he slowly turns back to face you. He approaches you slowly, each step perfectly calculated as he stands a few millimeters in front of you, invading your personal space. You raise your head proudly and meet his gaze with your own, determined one.
Which impresses him.
So much so that he reaches for the dagger strapped to his hip. You don't flinch when he runs the tip of the dagger across his tongue. You watch him closely, waiting for him to either slit your throat or accept the challenge. Feyd is surprised. And very curious—too curious—to simply walk away and continue on his path. That's why he takes your hand in his and hands you the dagger he was just testing.
"So show me what you can do, little witch. Except for using that honeyed voice of yours." He says it mockingly and takes two steps back, drawing another hidden blade from his armour.
You don't remember the entire fight clearly. The adrenaline was pumping through you so much that you only remember snippets of that dance with him with daggers in your hands. Surprisingly, neither of you disarmed the other. You stopped as you both placed your blades against the other's flesh—at points that would guarantee instant death if either of you decided to press the blade against the skin a little harder.
"You fight well, little witch." He praises you, moving away from you. "You're wasting yourself here." He says, looking at you acutely for a long time, considering something. But finally, he nods at you and turns again to join his men and board the ship. You quickly grab his hand before he gets too far away from you. You feel him tense at your touch, but he doesn't make any moves.
"Let me go with you. My blade will be an extension of yours, Na-Baron. I'll be your spy from the shadows, just... get me out of here." He widens his eyes slightly, unprepared for such a request. He turns towards you and glares at you with his icy irises.
It could very well be a trick from those witches, but Feyd would be lying if he didn't say that you caught his attention the first day he saw you training. And he really wanted to see what you were really capable of doing. Few had the guts to challenge him. And he found it somehow charming—how your eyes shone with determination every time you held the blade in your hands.
"Your sisters won't be happy when they find out that I took one of them to Giedi Prime." He says, feigning hesitation. His people knew him well. If he wanted something, he took it. A group of old witches wouldn't stop him, not now that he saw... great potential in you. Maybe not only as one of his soldiers.
"With all due respect, your house is not known for following anyone's rules except those you set. I… I can't stay here any longer."
His heart beat faster, seeing the desperation and helplessness in your eyes. Normally, he would laugh at someone who showed him weakness and kill him on the spot without much thought. But you... when you stared at him with those pleading eyes of yours, flushed from fighting him... it did something to him.
Feyd knew the feeling of helplessness. His uncle loved making him feel this way. And Feyd himself finds great enjoyment in making others feel that way. Humiliated. Weak. Scared. Somehow he didn't like the fact that staying in the sisterhood made you... feel like that and do such desperate actions as coming with him to Giedi Prime.
However, he had no intention of letting go of such a valuable bird that was voluntarily pushing itself into his cage.
"Well, you fight better than most of my men... I will make you my right hand. And as for your Bene Gesserit sisters..." You sigh softly as he reaches for your hair and cuts it in half. He cuts your shoulder and dips the cut hair in your blood. You see him put a few strands in his pocket, before he handed them to his servant, growling something at him in his native language. You raise an eyebrow at him. "I told him to convey my thanks to the Reverend Mother for... sending me a delightful toy. He might also mention that my darlings liked your meat." You nod, swallowing. He laughs mockingly, patting your shoulder. "You have many things to learn, little witch. You better prove to me that I wasn't wrong about you, or you will suffer exactly the fate that my servant will pass on to your sisters. I don't like weakness and disappointment."
"I have no intention of disappointing you, Na-Baron."
"Good. Come with me. I'm fed up with this planet. Besides, you need to change your clothes if you don't want my men to think you're a whore they can enjoy while on our journey." He nods and walks towards the ship. You follow him like his shadow, casting cold, sinister glances at the people staring at you.
"I am perfectly capable of defending myself, my lord." You reply confidently as you walk with him up the ramp to the Harkonnen ship. You see a small smile appear on his face at your words.
"I don't doubt that. However, I wouldn't want to lose more people than necessary. It's supposed to be your job to clean up after me, not the other way around, little witch." He responds, testing you and carefully watching your reaction. You don't flinch, perfectly prepared and familiar with... the brutality of the Harkonnens.
"Duly noted. There's only one thing I don't understand." He doesn't stop in his steps, but he gives you a quick glance and hums, allowing you to continue and ask a question. "I appreciate it very much, but… why didn't you kill me at the entrance?"
He chuckles hoarsely at your question and stops at a specific door. He turns to look at you, a spark of amusement shining in his eyes as he studies you like a predator would its prey before deciding to answer you.
"You didn't apologise or beg for your life. I found it... very refreshing." He says, opening the door. The metallic smell of blood fills your nostrils. You look into the room and see several prisoners chained to the wall of the ship with some strange cuts on their chests—probably some words in Harkonnen."Your first task, little witch. My darlings are very hungry. They will need the meat of my enemies. Come back here in an hour... I should finish by then. And change that rag you wear. I want to see you only in black." He orders, closing the door behind him with a bang.
You stand in the hallway for a moment, blinking and staring at the door, as you are suddenly thrown into a new reality that you have to get used to. You mutter a series of curses under your breath as you go searching for... any clothes or shoes. The cold metal of the ship's floor and the dried blood in some places made walking around on your bare feet quite uncomfortable.
Feyd-Rautha was indeed psychopathic... but it was better for you to be the devil's right hand than his mistress. And it was certainly better to inhale the toxins of Giedi Prime than to smell the flowers from underneath your grave.
You find yourself in front of a door that you don't want to go through. But you know you have to do it if you want to remain free and independent of anyone. You couldn't escape now. Not before Feyd-Rautha. You had to pay the price of your freedom with someone else's freedom. And you were ruthless enough to do it without blinking an eye. Maybe the years of living with Harkonnen really made you one of them...
You knock and enter the cave of Feyd's three harpies.
As you might expect, they don't welcome you very warmly. As soon as you close the door behind you, you hear their hisses. They stop feasting on some Fremen and glare at you, slowly approaching you.
"Relax, ladies. I'm here... to make a small agreement." You announce, taking a seat in the only chair that, surprisingly, isn't covered in anyone's blood. The women look at each other distrustfully and approach the table where you are sitting.
"Agreement?"
"With a little witch?"
"We don't make any agreements with our meals; we simply eat them."
You don't flinch at their words. Instead, you nod and draw your dagger when they get too close to you. Two of them move away automatically, but one—the oldest of them—continues to look at you. You give her a cold and dispassionate glare as you play with the blade in your fingers.
"But that's exactly what I'm talking about. About... a food. A great meal. A feast you will remember for a long time, ladies." You try your best to sound encouraging.
Their eyes light up, interested as you meet a fresh meal. You know perfectly well that they haven't eaten anything... desirable for a long time. They probably had to drag the body of this miserable man to their chamber themselves since you didn't have time to... make sure they were fed. And if there's one thing you can get on Giedi Prime with something other than power and sex, it's food.
"The little witch is planning something…"
"The little witch is up to something interesting…"
"The little witch wants to do something against our master…"
You look at them unfazed as they read that you have no clear intentions at all when it comes to working with them. But anyone who managed to survive on Giedi Prime and Arrakis was surely a man whose conscience had gone a long time ago.
And maybe your plan wasn't good for everyone... but it was definitely good for you. And Feyd. He'll agree with you... or at least you hope so. You're still not sure if his obsession with you was just a passing whim or if he really wanted to keep you with him. But you didn't want to end up like his concubines and pets.
"Possibly... but isn't that what you want? For your master to give you his attention again instead of taking care of me?" This seems to interest them even more than the promise of food.
"What do you want, little witch?" The oldest harpy asks you, looking at you carefully. You give her a mischievous, sinister smirk.
'"Have you ever thought of feasting on the Baron?" Your question hangs in the room. The harpies watch you carefully, smiling slowly and showing a row of black teeth.
Nothing united women like a common enemy.
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To be continued... Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896
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rogueddie · 10 months
Text
Runner / End Of Beginning
Steve has never seen his father as upset, as furious, as he was when he got home with his final exam results. He'd known- suspected- that his father would flip when his results came in...
His father got angry at small things. Hearing that he'd had a party while they were away, that a girl went missing at that party, had been the closest Steve thought he'd ever get to recieving a beating.
But when he came home with his grades... when his father realized that his son, his supposed prodigy, barely passed...
Steve has never ran as fast as he currently is.
As soon as he'd seen an openning, a clear line to the door, he'd stumbled to his feet and bolted. He'd picked a random direction and ran. He isn't going to stop running until he physically has to stop, knowing that his father is most likely in his car, trying to find him.
He can't stop. He has to keep running.
Eventually, he has to pause. He has to catch his breath.
He leans against a trailer, panting. He prays that no one thinks to look outside and spot him. He prays that no one will-
"Harrington?"
"Fuck." He hisses, squinting up at- "Munson?"
"What the fuck happened to you?" He says, eyes widenning when he finally gets a look at his face. "Second round with Hargrove, or what?"
"Nothing happened, I'm fine."
Munson eyes him for a moment, frowning. "Is someone after you?"
"What do you care?" Steve heaves a deep breath, forcing himself to stand up straight. He brings his knees up in a few knee highs, gearing up for another sprint.
"Ugh. Just- you can come into my trailer," Munson says, sounding as though Steve is forcing him to make the suggestion. "No one would think to look for you there. You can, like... I don't know. Drink some water? You jocks do that, right?"
"Wh- I don't need your help!"
"I'm not waiting for you all day, come on, let's go!" He makes a wide, exaggerated gesture for Steve to follow.
"You just assume I'm gonna follow?"
"Yeah."
He sounds so confident, so sure, that Steve can't think to do anything other thank blink and say, "fuck it, yeah, alright."
Steve is a little surprised at how much space Eddies trailer has. It's cramped, but in a nice way- the way a home gets when people actually live in it. When the people inside are actually happy and chase those joys.
Munson does get him a glass of water, mumbling at him to "sit anywhere", before flopping onto the sofa himself. He turns the TV on, focusing on that.
"Thanks," Steve eventually mutters, awkwardly sitting down.
"Wanna talk about it?"
"Nothing to talk about."
"Sure."
"There isn't," he insists, despite how casual and accepting Munson is acting. "It's my fault, anyway. I deserved it."
"Did you?" Munson turns to him, eyebrow raised. "All us freaks and losers can talk about these days is your change of heart. King of Hawkins High turned lame boytoy."
"Thanks, that makes me feel so much better," Steve sneers.
"Even Jeff thinks you're alright now," he barrels on. "Said he bumped into you, pretty hard, knocked all your shit down, and you apologized. Said his coffee ended up on an essay, or something. Thought he was about to get his ass kicked and you just..."
He waves his hand at him, as though that's explination enough.
Steve doesn't know a Jeff, but he's pretty sure he knows who Munson is talking about, and; "I wasn't looking where I was going. If anything, we were both at fault."
"See?" Munson waves his hand at him again, a little more pointed. "Don't doubt you've got a long way to go, but you're not half-bad. You didn't deserve whatever the fuck happened to your face."
"Whatever."
They fall quiet, both pretending to watch whatever is on the TV. Steve is so zoned out that, when someone clears their throat, he flinchs.
"Sorry to startle you boys," the man chuckles. But the humor quickly teeters out, once he gets a good look at Steve. "You alright, kid?"
"I'm fine."
"He's not," Munson grins wide when Steve glares at him.
"Staying the night?" The man continues, only looking at Eddie now.
"If I can convince him," Munson shrugs.
"I can't stay the night," Steve tries.
"Good," the man nods, as though Steve hadn't said anything. "I'll start making us all some dinner." He finally looks to Steve. "You got any allergies?"
"I can't stay," Steve tries again, insisting.
"No," Munson answers for him. "No problems with meat either."
The man gives Munson a thumbs up, heading through to the kitchen.
"I can't stay," Steve repeats, turning to Munson. "Really. I have to go back or... I have to go back."
"What will happen if you don't go back?"
Steve grimaces. "Nothing. Just- I can't stay here."
"Why not? They gonna hit me too?"
"You know what, Munson? Yeah, probably. And your- your dad?"
"Uncle," Munson snorts, standing, stretching. "No one messes with us though. We're too scary." He wiggles his fingers in Steves face as he passes by. "And call me Eddie."
"Why?"
"It's my name."
Steve awkwardly follows him to the kitchen, hovering a good distance from the two of them, watch how they move around each other with so much comfort and ease. It makes something in Steves chest ache.
"Oh, hey, you like football right?" Eddie asks, pointing to him.
"Uh, yeah, kinda. Not enough to have, like, a team." Steve shrugs.
Wayne turns around slowly, eyebrows raised. "You don't got a team?"
Talking football with Wayne is so easy that, until he's halfway through the dinner he cooked, Steve doesn't notice how fast the time is going. He can't bring himself to be bothered though. It's too nice.
Plus, Eddie is almost bouncing with joy at how well Steve and Wayne are getting along.
Someone starts banging on the door, loud and aggressive, as they make their way to the kitchen.
"Alright!" Wayne calls, rolling his eyes. "Hold your horses."
Steves stomach drops when the door opens and his father is on the other side. He smiles at Steve, sickly sweet and dangerously calm.
"Oh, thank God," he sighs. "Steve, your mother and I have been looking all over for you. When you didn't get home-"
Wayne blocks his way when he tries to step inside. "Who are you?"
"Robert Harrington," Steves dad sniffs, leaning back so he can physically look down at Wayne. "I'm here for my son."
"He ain't here."
Robert Harrington splutters, face tinting red with anger and frustration. He points to Steve, voice raising as he says, "he's right there! And he's coming with me."
Wayne turns, slow and casual. "Huh. That's odd. Don't see him."
"Steve," he snaps his fingers at Steve, like he's a dog. "Come on. We're going home."
Eddie shifts so he's standing slightly in front of him.
It's enough reassurance for him to finally snap back; "I'm not going anywhere with you."
"Steven-"
"Get off my property," Wayne snaps.
His father glares at them, waiting, as though he expects them to back down. When he doesn't, he snarls; "this is kidnapping."
"He's 18," Eddie drawls.
Grumbling, he stomps off.
"Asshole," Wayne mutters. He shuts and locks the door, sliding on the chain too.
Steve has to sit down, with how much his legs are shaking.
"You alright?" Eddie asks, hesitantly sitting beside him.
"Yeah," Steve says. He's surprised to find he means it. "Yeah, I'm good."
"You can stay here, long as you need," Wayne offers. "You'll have to bunk with Eds though. Not a lot of room."
"Why can't he use the sofa when you're-"
"Nope," Wayne cuts him off. There's a glint of mischief in his eyes that has Steve squinting in suspicion. "And you'll need those cuts looking at. Eddie, why don't you go with him. Medkits in the bathroom."
Steve goes ahead when Eddie points the way to the bathroom.
Eddie tries to give Wayne a warning look but he's unbothered and, with Steves back turned, he gives Eddie an encouraging wink.
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hawnks · 6 months
Text
Alpha!Nanami/Omega!reader
Word count: ~2,800
warnings: a/b/o typical sexism, abuse of authority (from side character), mention of leg injury
……………………………………………………….
He brings the storm with him.
You learn him in whispers, along with a bevy of myth and rumor. He drifted here from the East. His clothing has been mended at least a dozen times, but his shoes are sturdy, expertly crafted. He makes no noise when he walks — hardly any noise at all. Rōnin, not samurai. And you can’t trust a man with no honor.
He killed his old master, I heard.
No, he was exiled.
Maybe he killed his master because he was exiled.
“He’ll be gone tomorrow once the rain lets up,” the innkeeper says, cutting off all further speculation. “Now, mind your work, not the guests.”
Beside you, someone grouses, “He chose a funny season to wander, if he’s afraid of the weather.”
The rain does not let up.
It puts everyone in a sour mood. The streets turn viscous and tacky, the air brutally cool. You draw the short straw, sent to fetch the days meat in the early morning, a long trek to the fishmonger that leaves you drenched down to your underwear.
It takes twice as long as usual — you lose your sandal a few times in the muck — and when you arrive the stand is vacant. The old man had come down with pneumonia.
Frustrated, you take the long way home. They can wait for the bad news, and you’re so soaked a few extra minutes won’t make any difference. You catch the eye of a few of the daimyō’s men, leering at you from beneath awnings, snickering as you walk by.
“Wanna hear a joke about wet omegas?” one of them calls to you.
You grit your teeth and keep walking.
You deliver the news about the fish to the innkeeper at the door to her room, so you can dart out again before she has a chance to say anything. God forbid she sends you out on another errand.
Soaking, furious, you change into your uniform, and begin your shift at the tavern.
The work is tedious, but decently lucrative. You like to talk to travelers, learn what’s happening beyond the boundaries of your town. It’s hard to put into words what you get out of this, hoarding information like you’re starved for it. Maybe the sheer notion that there is someplace else. That this town and its people are not the only things in the world.
The comfort of knowing away is still possible.
You expect to ask the rōnin the same, starry eyed questions, regardless of how the other server is avoiding him. It might even be enough to salvage this shitty morning.
But you don’t get a chance to ask him where he’s from, what he’s seen. You open your mouth to say something, and choke on air thick with the scent of wisteria.
He meets your gaze.
He won’t look away.
Your wet hair drips on his table.
You can’t feel your fingertips.
Shoving yourself away from the table so hard it rattles against the floor, you excuse yourself in a mumbled tumult. You recruit the other server to take over your tables for the rest of the morning. You must look as awful as you feel, because she doesn’t even question it as you retreat back to your room, throw yourself under the quilt. Close your eyes and pray for your heart to settle.
The one thing the gossip didn’t prepare you for — an alpha.
Another day of storms. Another morning you draw the short straw.
Another day you limp home through the mud, empty handed.
The soldiers don’t leer today. Instead, the daimyō is waiting for you. It feels like he’s always waiting for you, that he could swoop in any moment, as quick and ruthless as a hawk.
He’s said he could follow your scent straight to you, no matter where you’re hiding. Sometimes you believe it.
He’s leaning against a wall under an awning, but you know the casual stance is deceptive. He can be fast when he wants to be.
He calls your name, an inferred order to come.
You pretend you didn’t hear, keep walking.
He’s standing straight now arms at his side. Ready. Your insides feel leaden. It takes all your willpower to keep moving forward. To disregard an alpha is one, painful thing. To disregard the daimyō is simple insanity.
Water blurs your vision. You can’t tell from the corner of your eye what expression he’s making. Sometimes he finds your insolence humorous.
Sometimes not.
Just a dozen feet further and you’ll be at the bend in the road.
“You should greet me,” he says. Quiet, but you’re so hyper-vigilant, there’s no way you could miss it.
“Good morning, My Lord,” you whisper to your feet.
He doesn’t step out into the rain, but his voice follows you around the corner. Teasing, condescending. “That’s a good omega.”
He could kill you for your bad manners. A servant, ignoring their lord. No one would question it, no one would dispute it.
But then — he would be killing the only omega in the whole town.
As much as he resents your disobedience, he would resent the loss of you even more. An alpha must have an omega, he told you. That is his right.
Chin tucked and scurrying, you don’t realize you’re on a collision course until you’ve already run into the man. The impact sends you tumbling to the ground.
Through the buffer of the downpour, it takes you a minute to recognize him. His scent.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he says. “I apologize.”
He bends to offer you a hand up. You just stare at his outstretched palm. Silent. Reeling.
You wait for him to give an order. Demand you take his hand, or that you come to stand on your feeble legs all on your own. It’s simply an alphas nature to wield their power like a cudgel, to bend everything and everyone to their will.
And now you have two of them to deal with.
Another moment of stillness. Your breath steams. Your pulse drowns out all other sounds.
He kneels.
Like this, on the same level, you can see the color of his eyes. So perfectly brown they’re almost black.
“Are you alright?” he says.
His voice is staid and calm. Not demanding. Not cruel. It — confuses you. You don’t understand what he wants from you.
You rise to your knees, shoving him with all your strength. He doesn’t budge. He remains solid and upright beneath your hands. You can feel the muscle, the innate strength. He’s warm, beneath the wet clothes. So incredibly warm.
You wonder if he could soothe your chill. You wonder if the touch of his bare skin would burn.
With a gasp, you tear away, appalled and mystified by your own reaction.
He stays kneeling as you rise and step away. He stays as you rush home, the scent of wisteria heavy in your lungs.
The innkeeper is displeased with your performance, of late. She gives you a stern warning that you shouldn’t let your “licentious nature” interfere with work.
“I don’t know why I agreed to take an omega on,” she sighs. “Not like you’ll be around for much longer, anyway.”
You wince. “Am I fired?”
The old woman laughs. “No, no. Not yet, anyway.” She waves at you, a full body gesture. A reference to the omega in you. “You’ll be wed to His Lordship soon, anyway. You won’t have to worry about the toil of work anymore.”
You excuse yourself shortly after.
The days are a monotony. Even the fear is so commonplace you lose track of it. The daimyō grows impatient with you. He calls to you from the shelter of the awning, each time a little bolder, a little less demure about his intentions.
“You know, I have a bad habit of breaking my things when I get bored of them,” he tells you. “I wonder what other tricks you have to keep me entertained.”
You hang your clothes to dry every evening, and the drip becomes a steady cadence, like the ticking of a clock.
This is your life.
The rain.
The rain.
The rain.
The decree is issued that afternoon. Marriage.
You’re to report to the royal estate before sundown, along with everything you own. You will not be coming back.
You pack your bag; you take the road out of town. With the city at your back, you’ll have to pass through the outskirt woods. Then across the river, a dangerous gambit when the water is this high, but that just means you won’t be followed.
You can’t imagine the consequences if they catch you.
The path grows looser the further you go, the mud deep, silt as slick as ice. Arduous and exhausting. And dangerous, too.
You don’t realize your footing is off until it’s too late. You slip, land badly. You cry out before you can stop yourself.
You struggle to your knees, get one of your legs beneath you. A shock of pain has you tumbling down again.
You can’t stand. You can’t run.
Just moments after you fall, a shadow overtakes you. And a man, looming, familiar, crouches before you.
“I heard your voice,” he says. “Can you walk?”
You shake your head, timid, overwhelmed.
“Pardon me,” he says, before hefting you up into his arms.
The ease he does it with is startling. An alpha’s superior strength.
He brings you to a small hunting cabin. Clearly abandoned, but decent enough. It’s dry, and a small fire is going in the hearth.
There’s no furniture except for a rudimentary pallet, which he sets you down on.
“May I?” he asks, hands hovering above your stockinged leg.
He takes your silence as answer enough, unrolling the material gradually, trying not to disturb your injury. He inspects it briefly, pressing carefully. You wince, he stops.
He reaches for his bag, retrieving a small tin. “Your ankle is sprained,” he tells you. “You should return to town in the morning.”
“I need to leave,” you return absently. “I have to get past the bridge.”
He frowns.
“The bridge has collapsed. The river is impassable.” He had tried to leave that morning, only to face the same dilemma. He considers you leg. “Besides, you won’t make it very far.”
The reality of your situation dawns on you, a slow tide of dread.
You missed your chance. You’ve lost your only opportunity at freedom.
You yank out of his grasp, dragging yourself across the floor, to the corner on the far side of the cabin.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you—“
“No. No.” You gnash your teeth at him, feeling wild with fear, unable to see past the dark curtain of it. “I have to go. I can’t be trapped in here with you.”
He raises a hand, a placating gesture, but all you see is motion, canting toward you. An alpha. A threat.
You grab whatever is closest. You throw it at him.
The stick doesn’t even hit him, but that doesn’t stop you. You throw everything within reach.
He just waits for you to give up, but soon enough he realizes how stubborn you can be.
“Enough,” he says. His voice fills the shack, not loud, but indomitable. The undeniable command of an alpha. “I’m not going to hurt you. I would appreciate if you would offer me the same courtesy.”
You drop the stone you were going to hurl at him, suddenly incapable of aggression. You feel — groggy, but less terrified now. Very nearly calm.
His pheromones, you realize.
The notion that he’s using them on you should incense you, but you can’t muster it. You close your eyes, exhausted.
Eventually, after long minutes of tepid silence, he murmurs, “I was here first, you are aware of that, right?” His tone is almost — sullen.
And for some reason, that very human show of petulance is enough to thaw you.
You laugh.
You can’t stop. You laugh so hard it’s hardly laughter anymore. It’s so intense it makes your ribs hurt, brings tears to your eyes.
It feels like the first time you’ve been able to think clearly in weeks.
When you finally calm to a few soft hiccups, you lay down and throw your arms out. Passive.
“Alright, swordsman,” you say, “Fix me.”
He’s slow to approach you, cautious of another rock coming at him. But you remain still.
His touch is gentle, so soft it’s like he’s barely handling you at all. He retrieves the tin of salve you kicked out of his hand, and begins to apply it. It’s cool, slightly astringent. Beneath that, the scent of wisteria.
His fingers are just as warm as the rest of him.
It’s over before you can get used to the sensation of him touching you. He pulls away, returns the tin to his bag. “That will help with the swelling. You should still avoid putting weight on it until it heals.”
“Thank you,” you force yourself to say.
You think you hear him chuckle.
Night blooms, full and dark.
Despite your anxiousness, the waiting has grown tedious. Unbearably so.
“Is there anything in that bag to alleviate boredom?”
He glances at you for a moment. Hesitating.
Finally he reaches inside, pulls out a small binding. He passes it to you.
A book of poems. You recognize the shape of the sentences, some of the words. You wonder what use a swordsman has for literature, but the swordsman is full of surprises evidently.
Th pages are worn, the edges soft from thumbing.
“I can’t read,” you say. You look at him. Expectantly.
You hold the book out. He takes it, slowly, gingerly.
He reads.
He’s not much of a performer, although you didn’t expect him to be. It’s clear he’s not used to reading aloud, but he knows these passages well. He’s tone is even, with little inflection. The words come out perfectly paced.
They’re love poems. Not flowery or decadent, but earnest, gentle.
It seems at odds with what you know of him, what you’ve assumed from his status, both as a rōnin and an alpha. You’re not sure what to make of him anymore, how to reconcile the image you built of him in your head and everything you’ve witnessed here.
His swords are leaned against the wall beside him, sure proof of a history of violence.
The question comes, unbidden. “Have you ever killed someone?”
He pauses, glances at you. He searches your face for something, the fear that should accompany those words. But your expression is blank.
Silence, fraught with the tense memory of how you ended up here. What were you running from? Why? He must understand, to some extent. No one reaches desperation without pretext.
“Yes,” he says, simply.
“If I asked you to kill someone,” you murmur. “If I paid you…”
The implication feels enormous within the tight confines of the cabin.
“I don’t believe that’s what you want.”
“What do I want?”
“To not be put in a position where you have to make that kind of decision.”
That makes something in your chest feel tight, on the verge of snapping. Another thing you can’t wrap your head around. Another emotion you can’t name. Uncomfortable, but not frightening. Not like before.
You feel displaced, unmoored.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
“I’m not being nice,” he says. “You need help. I’m in a position to provide it.”
And that seems wrong to you. Just because someone has the means doesn’t mean they’ll offer them, certainly not freely. Especially not when someone is a such a burden.
“I’ve never met an alpha who’s kind to an omega just for the sake of it,” you say despite his denial.
He mulls that over for a moment, head cocked as he decides how to respond.
“I didn’t know you were an omega until tonight,” he says, quietly. “I had my suspicions, but…”
“Were my bountiful charms not enough to tip you off?” You snort at his blank expression, too polite to disrespect you with an answer. “Why now?”
“Your scent. It’s…subtle. Easy to miss, especially under these circumstances.”
“What do I smell like?”
He smiles, for the first time since you met him. It softens his severe features, makes him look younger. Less world-weary. “You smell like rain.”
He continues reading as the sky continues to churn, until you can hardly keep your eyes open, just barely holding on to the soft thread of words.
“Sleep,” he says gently. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”
Despite yourself, you believe him.
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jksprincess10 · 1 month
Text
Fix it part II
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Summary: Din Djarin promised to break more things to bring them to you. After many moons, he comes back - with another woman, and Grogu. You're furious with him, but your patience is eventually rewarded. (3700 words)
CW: two idiots in love, Din is a dumbass, Bo Ka-Tan is kind of mean, fast paced romance, angst, fluff, reader has a nickname related to her work (fix), jealousy, canon divergent, unprotected p in v, oral (f & m), come eating, tummy bulge I guess, fingering, pet names in mando'a, praise kink, squirting, marriage.
Catch up on part 1 here.
Divider by @saradika-graphics
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“I will keep breaking things and bringing them to you.”
That’s what he said. Many moons ago. You kept hoping, counting the days since he last came. You knew he was gone to get his redemption. Maybe he had run into some trouble… Or maybe he had found another woman, more worthy of being his wife, elsewhere.
So, you occupied your days. You fixed an old ship that a past costumer left as payment, hoping to make it fly some day. Hoping to go through the galaxy to find Din Djarin. Maybe hope was futile. And maybe you were a hopeless romantic. But you thought he truly liked you.
You were stuck in your daydreaming when the bell announced someone coming into your workshop. You had expanded it since the last time, business was booming, and you could now park a full ship in it. You came out from under the ship you were fixing up, your exposed skin dirtied by grease and various substances. You wiped your soiled hands on your apron, leaving a trace of grease on it, before looking up to see who had come by. There was a woman with short red hair and a square jaw. She wore Mandalorian armor.
The woman gave you a disgusted look and you were going to greet her rudely when you heard the familiar heavy steps of your Mandalorian. Your chest tightened. Was this his new woman?
“Fix, I hope we’re not bothering you.” He said as he looked around. “I see you extended your workshop. It’s nice.”
There was a third person, little steps behind him, and you looked down to see Grogu. You gave him a smile and approached Mando, totally ignoring the woman with him.
“Always have time for my favorite client.” You looked up at him, clearly remembering the pretty brown eyes and the beautiful face under the helmet.
The red-headed woman sighed loudly. “If you’re done flirting, I need you to fix my jetpack. Can you do it?”
“Of course, she can.” Cut Din. “You can, right?” He added quietly.
“I’m rebuilding this whole ship, so I don’t think a jetpack is a tall order for me.” You took the object from the woman’s hands, a bit roughly. “Do you have anything to pay, ma’am?” You asked through gritted teeth.
She handed you a small bag of credits, that you grabbed.
“This will do. Now, I don’t really like having strangers around when I work.”
“Lady Kryze, why don’t you watch the ship for me?” Din asked, and you’re thankful that he did.
“Of course. Please don’t take too long.” With that, she was gone, and you finally felt like you could breathe again.
You dropped the jetpack on your worktable while Grogu stood curiously next to you. You took the little creature in your arms and put him on a stool next to you, so he could watch.
“You seem tense.” Noticed Din in an awkward tone.
“I guess I just didn’t expect you to come by after many moons with another woman.” You said as you opened the jetpack. You noticed that a few parts were burnt. You turned around to look at Din.
“It’s not what you think.” The Mandalorian rushed to say, gloved hands up in the air as defense.
“Yeah, so what is it then, Din?” You asked, your fists against your hips to restrain yourself from punching him.
“Just a friend, whom I’m helping. And who helped me redeem myself.”
“Ah, so it is done, then. I’m glad I had news from you.” You responded sarcastically.
Grogu let out a worried coo, like he was witnessing his parents fighting.
“Listen, it’s not that I didn’t want to…”
You turned around abruptly to examine the parts you would need, purposefully ignoring Din. Nothing you had on hand. “I can’t fix it right now, I’m afraid I will need some replacement parts.” You changed the subject.
“Tell me what you need, and I’ll get it for you.”
“Yeah, and you’ll come back after how many cycles, Din? How long will I have to wait for you?” You hated that your voice cracked when you were upset. You heard him come closer, and you felt his gloved hands on your shoulders. The leather felt heavy against the soft fabric of your work clothes.
The Mandalorian hated seeing you heartbroken because of him. He didn’t know what to say and wasn’t good at all with feelings. He just knew he should have stayed with you.
You felt your body fall in his embrace, his arms tightening around your shoulders to keep you close. You felt the heaviness of his helmet resting against your shoulder.
“I’m sorry, mesh’la. Please, come with us. I promise I won’t leave you anymore.” The modulated voice was shaky.
You turned around in his embrace and pressed your palms against the lines of his helmet where his cheeks would be. You could almost see his eyes. Well, you imagined them.
“I’ll come with you and fix your friend’s jetpack and then what…?”
“Then, we will do whatever you want.”
“I thought you wanted to reclaim Mandalore…” The rough pad of his gloved fingers wiped the tears away from your eyes. You almost forgot Grogu’s presence, until he made a sound that you could only attribute to sadness.
“I can’t do it if that means staying away from you and breaking your heart.”
You were going to respond when you heard the bell from the door. You stepped away from Mando and you observed the woman in Mandalorian armor, visibly impatient.
“So, can you fix it?” She asked in an annoyed tone.
“I’m afraid I’m missing some pieces. I have a contact on Tatooine who deals with a lot of recycled Mandalorian armor parts. He comes by once every cycle maybe… but it would be faster for me to get to him. He will be able to help us.”
“Fine, get your things and let’s go.”
You didn’t like being bossed around, but you stayed silent. They waited for you outside with the child as you gathered the essentials for a short trip, and you changed out of your dirty work clothes. You put your pack on your shoulders and went outside to follow Din and the woman.
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The silence in the ship was heavy and awkward. So much so that you disappeared in the back of the ship to play with the baby. The woman – Bo Ka-tan – made you feel uneasy and unwelcomed. You wished you were only with Din in this moment.
“Are you hungry, mesh’la?”
You lifted your chin to admire your Mandalorian standing over you, his towering and intimidating stature turning you on more than anything. Maker, if you two were alone in that exact moment…
“Not really. I think I’ll just rest, but I can feed Grogu if you need me to.”
“I’ll take care of him.”
“Where… do I sleep?”
“Take my cot.  We have two. I won’t go to sleep in a while.”
You nodded and you gave Grogu back to Din, who soothed him delicately in his arms. Din leaned down and bumped his head slightly against yours, which you could only interpret as a kiss.
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The cot was a tight space and once the door of the minuscule room was shut, it was plunged in deep darkness, which made it easy for you to fall asleep. You woke up only when you heard the door slide open and felt the weight of a body next to yours.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up, sorry.” Apologized Din when he heard you moving around.
“S’okay.” You slurred, half asleep.
It was so dark; you couldn’t even see his silhouette. You could just feel it. Your hands felt around the minuscule bed until you found the strong shape of his body. Instead of being met with cold beskar, your fingers felt the warmth of his skin. You traced his bicep until you found his neck, then his cheek. It was still scruffy, like you remembered, his unkept beard still on his chin and lower cheeks. You heard him chuckle slightly as he threw an arm around you to bring you close.
“You’re trying to rediscover my body, mesh’la?”
“Yes. I missed it. I missed you.”
“I promise we’ll get married, and you’ll be able to see my face every day.”
“You make a lot of promises.” You whispered back, before bringing his face closer to yours. Your noses bumped together, and you finally found his lips. You abandoned yourself fully to the mercy of his mouth, letting him guide you in softness and lustfulness. “Please don’t tell me you’ll marry me only because you like having sex with me.” You said playfully against his lips.
“I genuinely love you, mesh’la. Don’t want to stay away from you anymore.”  And you believed him.
“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum (I love you).”
“You’re learning mando’a? We’ll work on your pronunciation.”
“Well, I had to occupy myself in one way.” You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you.
“You’re so special, Fix.”
You rolled over so your body was on him, your thighs straddling his waist. You already felt his arousal through the thin layers of fabric you both wore. You rolled your hips slightly against him. You heard him sigh, and you could imagine him lips parted, head relaxed against the hard pillow.
“What do you want, Din?”
“Whatever you think I deserve after leaving you for so long.”
“Be careful what you wish for.” You whispered as you lowered your upper body so you could kiss his jaw with rough hair growing there, his strong jaw, his thick neck. You sucked lightly on the skin there, imagining red staining the gold of his skin.  His hands held your lower back, and you heard him sigh again. You missed how vocal Din was when you were alone, but it would be for another time. Your lips traced his chest, following an invisible line until you met with his groin. You used both of your hands to take off his underwear. Your fingers wrapped around his girth, lowering his foreskin so you could kitten-lick his leaking tip. You heard him whimper softly, and you took this as an encouragement as you closed your lips around the head, hollowing your cheeks to put more pressure and suction. When you got tired of teasing, you lowered your head, taking more of his cock in your mouth, until your own hand stopped you. Your hand wrapped at the bottom of his girth slid up and down as you sucked the rest in your mouth.
“Kriff… you’re so good at this.”
You sucked a few times, before taking him out of your mouth, licking his length before you said. “I know.”
 His hands closed around your jaw so he could pull you up and kiss you. You undressed yourself, barely breaking the kiss. Din switched your positions, his large body a shadow in your vision. Din’s lips latched onto every parcel of skin he could find, until they wrapped around one of your nipples, making it hard as he popped it out of his mouth. He gave your other one a similar treatment as you writhed under him, keeping your mouth closed to keep any sound from coming out.
“You’ll have to be very quiet.”
“I know.”
You felt his fingers spreading your lower lips, as he used the tip of his tongue to find your clit. You bit your lip as you squirmed under him. You were so wet, it was ridiculous. But after all those nights of touching yourself and thinking about him, he was finally yours again. As he sucked on your small bud of pleasure, one of his thick digits entered your slicked walls.
“You’re so wet, I could just put all of my fingers in.”
You let out a noise between a moan and a struggled squeal.
“You’d like that?” He whispered, hot air hitting your wet core.
“Stars, Din, get to it. I want you inside. Please.”
Din chuckled darkly as he entered a second finger. He started moving them at a fast pace he knew would make you see stars. You were trying to be quiet, but the tiny room was filled with your obscene wet sounds already. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on to him as you felt your orgasm hit you.
“Please. Please fuck me, Din.” You asked desperately.
His fingers left you empty, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he entered your walls slowly, stretching you deliciously.
“You’re so tight, mesh’la.”
Your feet pushed against him so he could enter you deeper and deeper. Once entered to the hilt, he started snapping his hips back and forth, setting a slow, but powerful pace. You hid your head in his neck, letting your moans echo against his warm skin.
“Faster, please.”
His upper body left you, and you felt him grab your thighs to secure you as he fucked you harder, using you like you were his personal sex toy. Your upper body was limp, moving in waves with his harsh thrusts. When a moan escaped your lips, he stopped moving.
“Told you to be quiet.”
“I’m sorry Din, please don’t stop…”
You felt him leaving you empty and craving. You wanted to cry. But before any tears rolled down your cheeks, he laid beside you and turned you to the side, one of his strong arms over your body and his palm resting over your mouth. He shushed you, his free hand resting on your hip as he slipped back inside. The angle made him feel somehow even deeper, and you knew he could feel how tightly you were choking his cock. You bit on his palm to muffle a cry, but he did not protest. You could hurt him as much as you wanted in return.
“There. My good girl.” He whispered.
He fucked you deep and slow, the hand on your hip coming down to your mound, two of his thick digits circling your clit as the rest of his giant palm put pressure on your lower stomach. You could almost feel him there, he was so big.
“Give me another one, mesh’la.”
White stars replaced the darkness in your vision as you exploded around him, spasming and trashing as an intense orgasm took over you. It felt like you wanted to pee, and come at the same time. But it felt so good.
“K-Kriff…” Din cursed under his breath. “You’re making a mess.” Drunk on you, he followed closely, erupting between your walls. “Stars, come here.” Before you could protest, the man pulled away and brought your hips close to his face, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs and forcing you to sit on his mouth.
Flustered, you stuttered: “D-Din…”
He licked the mixture of your juices off your sweet pussy, making obscene slurping sounds. His hold on you was so strong, but you tried to pull away. “T-Too much…”
“Sorry.” He let you lay down against his chest, and you pressed your lips against his. He let you taste the potion you both made on his tongue.
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Once arrived on the planet with a desertic landscape, you met with your contact, Jafan Typho. A man with a white beard, and kind, wise eyes, who lived in a garage-like house filled to the brim with junk.
You gave him a written list of what you needed as he eyed wearily the two imposing people with you (and the green little thing).
"Who are these... friends?" The man asked.
“I’m her future husband, this is my son, Grogu, and this is Lady Kryze of Mandalore.”
You almost choked on air at Din’s words, and you stared at him. You imagined his amused, teasing grin.
“I see.” Jafan responded. “Stay here while I get what you need.”
Bo Ka-Tan sighed, annoyed. She clearly was excited for this trip to end.
“What is our plan after this?” She asked as an attempt to make a conversation with you and Din.
“We go back to my planet so I can fix your jetpack. I’m thinking it won’t take me more than a day… Then… you’re free to do whatever you want.” You shrugged.
“Then, I will go back to Mandalore with our friends on Nevarro. You’re free to follow, or not.”
Din looked at you expectantly, but you looked away. All that you knew was always on Nevarro. Leaving… would mean leaving a part of your family legacy behind.
“I’ll think about it.” You said with a smile. You felt Din’s gloved hand grab yours, and you enlaced your fingers.
Jafan came back with a few pieces in hands. “There. Will you still be there when I go back to Nevarro, Fix?”
“I… don’t know.” You admitted. You exchanged the parts for a generous pile of credits. “But feel free to come by.”
“Okay.” The old man shook your hand, and you all thanked him silently as you went back to the ship, Grogu waddling behind you.
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“You really are doing this backwards.” You let out as you’re crowded in the small space of the ship’s washer with Din.
“What... Do you mean?” He asked, distracted by your hands on his naked, tattooed chest. He put his hands on yours and looked at you with those adorable puppy brown eyes. You could see glimpses of him in the dark, and even though he called himself your future husband, he insisted on keeping the lights closed.
“You haven’t even asked me to marry you officially, and you’re already calling yourself my future husband.”
“Okay, then.” Din rolled his eyes playfully and pulled you closer. “Be my riduur. Please.”
“Finally. Yes.” You squealed and kissed him, long and slow.  “For someone so traditional… one would think that you would do things in order.”
“Maybe I lost my brain somewhere while I traveled.”
“I know where you put your brain.” You kissed his jaw, his throat, as you went down slowly on his body, your hands following the sharp lines of his muscles.
“Yeah?”
Once on your knees, you kissed the tip of his cock with a sly smile.
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You wiped the sweat off your brow as you finished fixing the jetpack. You tested a few buttons and satisfied, you brought it to Bo Ka-Tan, who sat silently in your workshop, while Din was away, making arrangements for your union.
“You know I do not care for Din Djarin in that way, right?” She asked after clearing her throat.
“I would not blame you. He’s an attractive man.” You put the jetpack in her hands. She looked at it attentively, it seemed like new.
“I do not think of men that way.”
“…Oh. I apologize for making assumptions.”
“You’re fine. Thank you for the quick repair.”
“You’re welcome.”
You thought you hallucinated when you saw a smile on Bo Ka-Tan’s lips, but you were perfectly sane.
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There was a small crowd of Mandalorians in various types of armors amassed in the covert. You were wearing a light dress, and not the conventional attire. Din was in full armor, beskar shining under the low lights. Bo smiled encouragingly at you, as you exchanged vows in Mando’a, repeating after the armorer. Your pronunciation was not perfect, which made you chuckle nervously. But Din held your hand and encouraged you. As he repeated the vows back to you, the deep rumble of his modulated voice gave you shivers.
You laid your head against his helmet in an intimate gesture, even though you couldn’t wait to tear off the helmet from his head.
After a celebration, you brought Din back to the apartment on top of your workshop, thankful of the other mandalorians taking care of Grogu for the night. The sun was almost setting, but you could see his golden skin in the sunlight. It felt even more special now that you were his.
“This couldn’t end any quicker.” You said, breathless, between languorous kisses. You almost tore off each other’s clothes, and you stopped for a few seconds to admire Din’s face in the sunlight after you took off his helmet. “There. My handsome man. I missed your face so much.” You cradled his scruffy jaw between your hands, and you kissed his pouty lips again and again, until he groaned in annoyance and pushed you on your bed.
“You will see this face so much; you’ll grow tired of it.” Your riduur settled between your hips, legs over his broad shoulders as he leaned down to kiss the sensitive skin of your thighs.
“I doubt it.” Your fingers settled in his curls, and you pushed him closer to where you truly wanted him. His nose brushed over your mound, then he spread your lips to gain an easier access, before drowning into you. He lapped and sucked messily at every piece of skin he could access, his head moving to the side as he ate you out with his whole body. “K-Kriff, Din…”
He whispered your name against your wetness, like a quiet prayer, before latching his lips onto your clit, alternating with sucking, and leaving quick licks. “Taste so good, mesh’la…” He said when he came back for air, after diving in again, like a man starved.
Your back arched, your hips bucking uncontrollably against his face as he kept going. His soft, brown eyes were on your face as he watched you coming undone, again and again, until overstimulation. You pulled on his hair and asked him to stop in a tired voice. His lips moved slowly up your body, stopping sometimes to latch onto a parcel of skin or a nipple. 
“Can I make love to you, my riduur?” He asked reverently, and you never wanted him to call you something else again.
“Yes.”
Din slicked his cock with your juices, before diving his tip slowly into your hole.  You held his gaze, wanting to engrave somewhere in your memory this particular moment.
“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum (I love you).” He said as he bottomed, his hips flush with yours.
You barely had time to respond, before he started thrusting in and out of you at a slow pace, like you both now had the whole time in the universe.
“Where do we go after this?” Din asked as he stilled to look at the remainings of the sunset reflecting on your skin.
“I will follow wherever you go, Din Djarin. So we’re never apart again.”
His fingers laced with yours as he felt happiness so overwhelming he could not bear it. A soft kiss. Another promise. And you would fly wherever he was needed.
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huboi · 3 months
Text
“it wasn’t your fault”
[muzan kibutusuji, kokushibo and akaza x gn! reader]
╰┈➤ includes; mentions of r*pe, self loathing, death (not reader), please note this is a triggering topic so readers’ discretion is advised
╰┈➤ extras; this was a request, sadly I can’t tag them cause tumblrs’ being a bitch about it so I just hope that the requester comes across this
╰┈➤ a/n; it’s important to note I haven’t dealt with anything like this personally, so apologies if this doesn’t seem realistic or is badly done, I will try my damndest to be as respectful as possible with this fic
ʚ ═══・୨ ꕤ ୧・═══ ɞ
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muzan kibutusuji
yes, he’s a demon, not just any demon but the king of demons, which certainly means he cares for no one, especially not a human of all things right?
wrong
muzan originally planned on turning you, when something in his dead heart jumped for joy at the sight of your face, he just couldn’t turn you
and so he protected you when needed and eventually you ended up dating
one thing he noticed is that whenever he goes to touch or kiss you etc. you seem to back off or hesitate, you believe he doesn’t notice but he does
he’s also noticed you tend to cover your body 24/7 with baggy clothing and never wear short sleeved shirts or shorts
when he confronted you about it, you just burst into tears, thinking he would dump you or blame you for what they did to your body
with a comforting embrace, and some time to mull it over, you decided to tell him what happened
muzan was furious to say the least, not at you, never, he was furious at the disgusting person who dared to lay their filthy hands on you without your consent
he gives you little kisses on your face (with consent of course) and hugs you close whilst assuring you “it’s not your fault”
later on when he was sure you were fast asleep, he took care of a certain someone
safe to say that that person will never touch you again
ʚ ═══・୨ ꕤ ୧・═══ ɞ
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kokushibo
it’s pretty obvious he’s a demon
so as soon as you guys crossed paths, you could tell he wasn’t human by his face alone
at first you were worried he was gonna hurt you, but he simply shrugged and explained how he doesn’t bother killing people unless necessary
somehow you guys ended up in a relationship and bam!
you’re one of the most protected people in Japan
kokushibos’ weary eyes couldn’t help but notice your hesitancy towards his intimate advances, no matter how simple
he could also tell you held some sort of self hatred towards yourself, as he had been in your position hundreds of years ago
he brings it up one afternoon, explaining how he wants to make sure you’re both comfortable in the relationship
you hesitantly give him the answer, expecting for him to kill you on the spot
only for the usually stoic demon to wrap you into a tight hug, arms trembling and face contorted in anger
“it’s not your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong” he seethed, before asking if you remember what they look like
after giving him a brief description of them he was off in a flash, seemingly teleporting to god knows where
the person trembled, cowering into a corner begging for their life to be spared, kokushibo simply unsheathing his sword and landing cuts all over them so he can bleed out slowly and die from the blood loss
when coming back from his deeds, kokushibo saw you in bed wrapped up in the blanket, he simply climbed in after you and hugged you from behind
ʚ ═══・୨ ꕤ ୧・═══ ɞ
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akaza
definitely the most angry out of all three demons
he will hunt everywhere for this person and won’t take a break until he finds them and breaks them himself
when he does come across this ‘human’, he will personally punch him so that he dies from a slow painful death
when coming back to you, akaza will simply be there for you throughout the healing process/trauma
he hates how the monster caused you so much trauma
akaza is always there for you if you want to vent or talk about your feelings
if anything like that ever happens again, tell him, he’ll be there for you and will also personally deal with the monster that did this to you
ʚ ═══・୨ ꕤ ୧・═══ ɞ
© content belongs to @huboi, please refrain from republishing on any other platforms! I don’t own the characters in this story
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shadowandlightt · 3 months
Text
Of Nightmares and Memories |seven| Azriel X reader
Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six
A/N: Little bit of a filler, setting up for the second act. I'm very excited for you guys to see where this is going <3
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The week that she was gone was more miserable than most. Your fae healing would kick in, leaving little trace of Tamlin’s brutality, only for him to return and beat you to a pulp once more. You were starting to lose track of the days, only seeming to exist in between Tamlin’s visits, when Feyre reappeared. Not looking worse for wear, but instead looking a little lighter than when she left, but filled with the same amount of anxiety. 
You could hear Tamlin lock her away into the study, questioning her on everything about the Night Court. Feyre saw so little though, you knew that. Your brother wouldn’t put the Court at risk by bringing her anywhere but the Moonstone Palace. But she met with Mor, and that was enough to bring me to my knees. Just knowing she was alive was enough. But then Feyre mentioned Cassian and Azriel and tears started to flow freely. Because they were alive and in one piece. After everything they made it, they were alive and well. Rhys wouldn’t have mentioned them otherwise. 
You sobbed on the floor of your rooms, curled in a ball. Because he lived. Despite it all, Azriel lived. And maybe, somehow you would see him again. Maybe, just maybe, you would be able to escape and make it home. Bide your time until the faebane was out of your system enough to reach out to Rhys for help. 
The Tithe came a week later. You hadn’t left your rooms in months, hadn’t felt the sun on your face. Food was brought to you by Alis, sometimes Feyre would sneak into your rooms for a moment. You wish she would’ve after she returned from the Night Court so you could learn how Rhys and Mor were first hand, instead of having to strain to hear it all. 
You watched from my window as Feyre sat beside Tamlin, looking like the picture of a Spring Court lady. It made you sick. She belonged here just as much as you did. You couldn’t hear from where you stood, but you could see them just fine. The way half of the people barely had enough to pay the Tithe. It broke your heart, Tamlin should have delayed it again. Should have given his people more than three months to recover from the fifty years of pain and suffering they had to endure. But Tamlin was proud, too proud. 
So when Feyre gave her jewels to a water wraith, you knew he would be furious. You could hear it over the dinner that followed. The way they snapped at one another, and then silence, like Feyre left the room. 
It was hours before you heard the sound of what seemed like an explosion. You couldn't move to find out what happened, so you strained my ears to hear whatever you could. All you could hear was Tamlin apologizing over and over again to Feyre. He keeps promising he’ll do better, keeps promising they’ll get through this and that things will change. You wonder if she knows it’s all a lie? 
Rhys comes for her a few weeks later. In the middle of the night, while you’re all fast asleep. You don’t wake until Tamlin comes bursting into your rooms, demanding to know how he can get Rhys to release Feyre from their bargain. When you tell him that your stubborn brother would rather die than give Tamlin something he wanted, he beat you. And then beat you some more, until you were nothing but a bloodied mess on the floor. 
He was waiting by an oak tree at the end of the week. Your body was sore and broken, but healing slowly. Rhys appeared with Feyre in tow, looking exhausted as always. You were beginning to truly worry about her, because it was obvious she was a shell of the human you met months ago. A shell of the one who slapped Tamlin and dared to go against Amerantha. 
Now she was nothing. And there was nothing I could do about it, and hardly anything Rhys could do in one week every month. He could try to get her back, but in the end she would return her and fall deeper and deeper. She was right when she told Tamlin she was drowning. 
All hell broke loose the following day though. 
Though Ianthe returned, you were finally allowed to leave your rooms for a time. You found Feyre standing by the front door, begging Tamlin to take her with him on his trip. He refused, of course, leaving her alone in the doorway. When Feyre said she was coming whether Tamlin liked it or not, you could see something change in him. That’s when she slammed against an invisible wall. That’s when you realized we were both fucked. 
She begged and begged, but he kept moving. He mounted his horse and rode away. Lucien lingered for a moment, saying something I couldn’t quite make out from the ringing in my own ears. She was going to rip herself apart or die in this manor house. 
You watched as Lucien and Tamlin disappeared. Watched as Feyre crumbled in on herself and slowly began to lose control. Darkness seeped out of her, then fire and ice. She was wrapping herself in a cocoon of it as she crashed to the floor. your heart broke, because you had no power to help her. 
Alis called her name, begging her to calm down. But Feyre couldn’t hear her, or chose not to. You felt the need to vomit as I watched on, feeling more helpless than you ever had before.
“Help her!” Alis demanded, finally seeing you standing there. 
“I can’t,” you choked out, “I have no power. Your master….he…I can’t do anything.” 
Feyre was going to die. There would be nothing left of her by the time Tamlin and Lucien made it back here. She would be nothing but a pile of ashes at this rate. you felt utterly sick, and angry. Angry that you had no power left to help, angry that you’d been locked away too for too long. Angry that Tamlin would even think about locking Feyre away like this, knowing that she would react poorly. 
But reacting poorly is an understatement. She was going to bring the whole place down around us. We would all die at her hand, and she wouldn’t mean to do it. She would topple the Spring Court tonight, without meaning to do it. And you would finally be free, in life or in death. 
But then the very foundations shuttered, and the sight of blonde hair filled my eyes. you  fell to your knees, because it was Mor, whole and beautiful as ever. She couldn’t see you from where you were, but you could see her as she reached into the cocoon of darkness and pulled Feyre out. 
“Go,” Alis whispered to me, “Go with them.” 
You shook your head, unable to move. Surely it couldn’t be that simple. Surely there would be something else to stop me from leaving. you  couldn’t even make it to the gate before. Why would now be any different? 
“Please-please take care of her,” Alis begged Mor, “Take care of them both.”
“Both?” Mor questioned. 
It was then, with the thought of Azriel and finally returning home to Valaris. Finally being able to fly again and feel the sun and wind on my face. Finally being able to feel Cassian’s bone crushing hugs, and Rhys….oh Rhys. It was only then that you got to your feet and moved from your hiding spot. 
Mor faltered upon seeing me. You  thought she might even drop Feyre as a sob ripped from her lips. Feyre seemed to be unconscious in the woman’s arms, unaware of what was happening. But Mor knew, the second she laid eyes upon me, she knew. Even though my body had changed and I’d matured, she still saw me. 
“How is this possible?” She questioned, taking a small step towards me. 
“You don’t have time,” Alis warned, “Someone will have alerted the High Lord, he’ll be on his way.”
“Take me home Mor,” you beg, “Please Mor, take me home.”
“Consider yourselves very, very lucky that your High Lord was not here when we arrived,” Mor warned. 
With tears in her eyes, Mor nodded towards me and took a step towards the door. Feyre finally took in a breath, deep and shuttering. You swallowed hard and followed them out of the door. Mor told Feyre that nothing was going to keep them from her, and that Rhys shattered the shields without a second thought. 
What would he do when he realized what else he freed? Would he be happy to see you again after so many years? Or would it be too painful for him, after moving on hundreds of years ago. Because surely they all moved on. Surely they didn’t think about you the way you thought of all of them. Surely they didn’t spend every day mourning the life you could have had if Tamlin hadn’t told his father and brothers where to find you that day, or if Rhys hadn’t told Tamlin, or if he’d simply showed up to meet you that day. So many things could be different. 
“Hold onto me,” Mor told you , tears streaming down her face. 
You grasp onto her arm and hold tightly to it as she winnows you. Your eyes strain against the bright light that floods your vision. Rhys is leaning against a tree, and straightens the second he sees the three of you. He falters, just as Mor had. Eyes blinking furiously as if he’s trying to clear his head. 
“You-” 
“Rhys,” your voice cracks, “It’s me. I promise.”
“I-” He shakes his head, “You’re dead.”
“No,” You whisper to him, “That’s what they wanted you to think. I’ve been locked away this whole time.”
He reaches for you. Like you’re a ghost that’s going to disappear the second he touches you. Only you don’t, because you’re living and breathing. He breaks then, tears streaming down his face as he pulls you into a tight hug. 
“We need to move, Rhys,” Mor reminds him, “The faster we’re in the Night Court, the better.”
“Take me home,” You say again, “I just want to go home.” 
“Oh, Little Star,” for the first time in hundreds of years, the name is said with such love and adoration. You don’t flinch when you hear it, you don’t expect it to be accompanied by a blow. Because you know you’re safe now. Safe and loved and protected, “Let’s go home.”
Tag List
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clbrq · 6 months
Text
JEALOUS - C. BROCK.
warnings: cheating??(not rlly but disrespectful), cursing/swearing, angsty but fluff included(i’m feeling nice), long distance relationship, fighting, one slap 👀
-/-
Living half way across the world from your boyfriend was not ideal. You hated being away from him for weeks on end, not knowing what was happening or being able to be in his presence. You felt helpless.
Especially on a day like today.
Laying in your bed, watching your best friend Katrina, her boyfriend, Sam, your friend, Stas and your boyfriend, Colby all on stream together. Katrina was doing a Subathon stream for 24 hours, bringing her friends in for moral support with 13 hours still remaining.
You were enjoying listening to your friends laugh and enjoy their night; it made you sad you couldn’t be there. However, the only part you strongly disliked, was your drunk friend and boyfriend constantly flirting and touching each other in the back of the stream.
It enraged you.
Stas was supposed to be your friend, fully aware of you and Colby’s relationship—yet still proceeded to flirt and have private conversations with him throughout the few hours they were on stream. You had noticed earlier on in the stream that when Stas mentioned about a man hitting on her in a club, Colby looked visibly jealous—even saying it was ‘good’ how Stas didn’t engage with the man. Sam and Katrina, also drunk, didn’t take notice to their suspicious antics; making you question whether this behaviour was normal for the two of them.
Deciding this wasn’t helping your situation in the slightest, you decided to switch off the stream and go to sleep—give your mind a rest for the day. Although, before you get chance to click off the app, you witness something that made your stomach drop.
Colby grabbing Stas flush against his body, pulling them both against the wall, both laughing. Colby continued by whispering something in her ear, and pecking her on the top of the head, as Stas exclaimed his name over and over again. As he released her, he got up close in her face, staring deeply in her eyes, backing her up against the wall. Sam and Katrina both cheered in confusion and excitement as they watched their two best friends get handsy.
You slammed your laptop shut as you ran your hands through your hair—you couldn’t watch another second of it. You weren’t even sad—you were furious. Furious that Colby would do this, drunk or not. And you could do nothing to stop it. It wasn’t like you were in the next room, you were half away across the world, a 9 hour flight away and a 7 hour time difference.
You look down at your phone, a small hope inside you was wishing he had messaged you. But, nothing. No texts, no calls. Nothing. You were so disappointed in both of them for doing this to you.
Not feeling tired anymore, you opened your laptop back off, clicking off the stream as you watched Colby chugging from the Pitcher, silently wincing as you knew how drunk he would be, and what could possibly happen as you didn’t watch. You went straight to Google, finding a flight to LA, and booking one for in a few hours time. Raising from your bed, you angrily packed all your clothes and necessities, knowing you would be staying a while to keep an eye on your boyfriend and friend. Grabbing your phone, headphones and keys, you called a Taxi, intending on getting to LA as fast as you could.
Your flight was easy, going quickly through security and making your way out of the airport and into an Uber by 5 o’clock the next day. However, you’d spend your time in the airport watching clips from the rest of the stream, and seeing a part of the video in which he whispers in Carrington’s ear whilst holding her neck and touching her constantly, only infuriating you more. Telling the Uber driver where to go, you sighed as still no text from Colby came through. You were so confused, it wasn’t like he was still asleep, it was 5pm for Christ’s sake.
Soon enough, you’d arrived at Sam and Colby’s house, making sure to safely make it up the front door without all their alarms going off. Knocking on the door, you heard lots of voices throughout the house, and quiet, pattering footsteps heading towards the door.
Opening the door, Sam Golbach gasped as he saw your face, “What the fuck, dude!” He exclaimed happily as he embraced you in a hug, “Does Colby know your coming?”
“Nope. No one did.” You grinned, chuckling at his shocked expression.
“Hey, come on in, everyone’s in the kitchen.” Sam stated, grabbing your suitcase for you and placing it inside the house, then shutting the door.
You walked through the house, hearing the many laughs and voices get louder as you approached them. Stepping in the kitchen, you were met with Kat, Tara, Jake, Kevin, Reggie, Cassie, Corey, and Devyn. But no Colby or Stas. As they all finally noticed your presence, you heard many gasps and shouts of confusion as they all got up to hug and greet you.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Kat squealed, hugging you tightly, “We didn’t know you were coming?”
“Booked the flight last night and got it at 5:30 this morning.” You chuckled, bathing in their shocked expressions.
“Did Colby know?” Corey laughed, taken aback by your existence.
“No,” You responded, shaking your head, “Speaking of, where is he?”
As if it was a touchy subject, everyone went quiet, acting like they didn’t want to answer your question.
Speaking up, “He’s upstairs with Stas.” Jake announced.
Not saying another word, you turned around, heading towards the large flight of stairs in in front of you. Walking up them, anxiety began to form in your stomach as you slowly approached his room.
Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. Not waiting for a reply, you pushed open the door to be greeted with Colby and Stas sat closely on his bed watching a movie. You were confused, turning to face your boyfriend as his face dropped.
“Oh my god!” He shouted, rushing up and pulling you close to his body, “Baby, what the hell are you doing here?”
“Wanted to see you.” You mumbled against his chest, not feeling excited to see him due to what you had just witnessed before you.
“Oh, baby, I missed you so much.” Colby whispered, pulling away from the hug, and leaning down to kiss you.
You didn’t kiss back.
Instead, you pulled away after a short amount of time to just awkwardly smile at him, before moving around him to greet Stas. She had stood up, waiting to say hello as well.
“Hey, girl!” She shrieked, happily, pulling you in for a hug. You hugged her back, ignoring the anger that was bubbling inside your body, “How have you been?”
“Fine, thank you.” You replied, “What were you guys doing up here?” You blurted out, not being able to stop yourself.
“Oh, uhm, just watching a movie.” Colby spoke, gesturing towards the TV, “We were hungover from last night, and just wanted some peace and quiet from the others being loud.”
“Yeah, I saw.” You smiled, the fakery evident on your face, “You looked like you had fun.”
“Mhm, it was good night.” Stas grinned at Colby, whilst he stared at you nervously, noticing your annoyance by your demeanour.
“Stas, do you mind if I have some time alone with him?” You asked, not really meaning it as a question—but not wanting to come across as rude.
“Yeah, of course.”
When the door shuts behind Stas, and after hearing her footsteps retreat down the stairs, you turn to Colby’s smiling face.
“Oh, baby, I’ve miss—“
Slap!
Colby’s face dropped as he clutched his cheek in shock, completely unaware of why you decided to hit him across the face. Looking back at you, he’s met with your angry expression.
“How dare you.” You seethed, fury coursing throughout your body as you spoke, “I’m absolutely disgusted with you, Colby.”
“What? What did I do?” He rambled in confusion.
“What did you do?” You shouted, “Last night, you couldn’t get enough of all the girls that came round, how fucking dare you!”
Colby stood in silence, just staring at you—eyes wide with a shocked expression on his face as he tried to find the right words to say to you in this moment.
“Baby, I was hammered, I-I don’t even remember much of it.” He finally spoke, shaking his head.
“Well, I do,” You spat, “You and Stas practically kissing, holding Carrington’s neck, and constantly flirting and touching all the girls who even stepped within two feet of you? Am I some sort of joke to you?”
“No! Of course not!” Colby shut his eyes and sighed, taking a seat on the end of this bed, running his hands over his face, “Fuck, baby, I don’t know what to say.”
“A fucking apology would be a great fucking start.”
“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so fucking sorry, okay?” Colby ranted, standing up and grabbing your waist, “I don’t even know why I did that, I’m such a fucking idiot.”
You didn’t speak. You wanted him to confess anything else whilst he vented to you. You also wanted to believe him, but you found it extremely difficult.
“And what about earlier?”
“What do you mean?” Colby pondered, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Why were you and Stas really up here?” You asked, still slightly angry at him.
“I swear, we were actually really hungover and everyone downstairs was being so loud. We only came up to watch a movie as some of the others were in the movie theatre. It was nothing more than that.” He told you, looking down at you desperately, “Please believe me.”
“How the fuck can I after last night? I mean fucking hell, Colby, you did it on live stream with thousands of people watching?” You snapped, “Did you really think I wouldn’t see?”
“No, no, it wasn’t that.” He blurted, frantically, “I didn’t even know what I was doing, I was drunk as hell. But, that’s no excuse, and I’m really, really sorry. Truly.”
You shake your head, sighing loudly, “And when I’m half way across the world, missing you? That’s so fucked up, Colby.”
“I know, I know.” He exhaled deeply, “I am really sorry.”
Not knowing what else to say to ease your anxiety and anger, you take a seat on the bed and stare blankly at him. Colby crouched by your feet, grabbing your hands gently, bringing them up to his lips to peck, lovingly.
“I’m sorry, baby.” He repeated.
“I know you are.” You breathed, intertwining your fingers, “But, please never do that again. I don’t care how drunk you are; never again.”
“Of course, never again.” He nodded in agreement, “I’m just glad you’re here.”
Nodding back at him, you look into his beautiful, ocean blue eyes, wanting nothing more than all of last night to be a lie. But, it wasn’t.
“Look,” You started, “I’ll forgive you if you promise me something.”
“Yeah, anything.”
“Let me live with you.” You stated, “Permanently.”
Colby’s face lit up instantly, “What?”
“I’ve seen the way you are around other girls, and it makes me think sometimes because I’m not around a lot that you look for a replacement. And I don’t want that.” You explained, still tightly holding onto his hand, “So, I want to be around. All the time. Like Sam and Kat, living together. Therefore, nothing like this happens again as I’m there for you.”
“Baby, I’ve been waiting to hear those words come out of your mouth for years.” He smiled so wide, you couldn’t help but return it, “But, this isn’t you a problem. I’m the one who fucked up. Don’t feel like you have to move in with me because I was a dick.”
“It’s not just because of that, travelling is a pain and I hate being away from you.” You added on, holding back tears as a limp in your throat forms.
Colby picked up on it quickly, swiftly standing up and sitting next to you; embracing you tightly as you cried into his shoulder, arms cuddled to your chest. Colby rubbed your back soothingly, and whispered sweet words and apologies into your ear. He kissed your head as you pulled away, wiping your face free of your tears.
“I love you, okay? Only you.” He told you, grabbing your face.
“I love you too, Colbs.” You mumbled, pulling him in for a kiss.
As soon as your lips connected in a loving kiss, you knew he meant his apology as you tasted his salty tears on your lips, knowing he was truly upset with himself as much as you were. Colby dragged you onto his lap as you deepened the kiss, holding onto hoodie tightly, never wanting to let go. Colby had his arms wrapped tightly around your torso, rubbing your back still as your kiss continued.
Pulling away, you snuggled your head into his shoulder, hugging him closely—shuddering as he started playing with your hair, resting his head against yours.
“Babe?” Colby spoke, breaking the silence.
“Yeah?” You muttered, leaning back to face him.
“You slap like a dude. That fucking hurt.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, apologising quietly as you peck his reddening cheek.
You knew at the end of the day, Colby was yours, and no one else’s. And that if he ever did something like that again, you’d slap him 10 times harder.
comment if you love colby
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adventuringblind · 20 days
Text
Teach Me Part Two
Max Verstappen x Reader Part One
Genre: Hurt/Comfort with a speck of spice (technically speaking)
Summary: Max teacher his girl about subdrops and helps her through one of her own
Warnings: Softdom Max, mentions to a past toxic relationship, mentions of choking, subdrop, minor insecurity, Implied smut but nothing graphic, Lando is mentioned for like a paragraph because I can
Notes: For @nurse-sainz who has fueled my brainrot to an unhealthy amount
Side Note: My inbox is open and I crave attention... :)
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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Max had come to the conclusion early on that she would inevitably hit a subdrop at some point. As much as he would like to make it so she never has one, he knows it's going to happen eventually. It's - unfortunately - hard to predict and often random. 
Crashing out of a subspace too fast, A used safeword, maybe even just too much stimulation. He's had partners be in that lovely place in their heads and fine only to fall from it without grace and send them into a panic. 
“A subdrop? I don’t think I read about those-”
“It’s one of those things that they don’t talk about as much. Hitting a subspace is hard because you have to let go, right? A subdrop is when your mind is stuck between the two. It’s trying to take back control but can’t.” Max pauses the movie they hadn’t been paying attention to. This conversation takes precedence as far as he’s concerned. 
She hums and rubs the side of her face against his arm like she’s a cat. “They sound scary. I’m not sure I want to have one of those.” 
“Just remember that if you ever do, I’ll be right there with you, yes?”
“Yes.”
He smirks at her. The idea had already been planted in his head. “Yes, who?”
She grumbles. A furious shade of red making its way across her cheeks. The honorifics is a relatively recent thing. The effect it has on her has Max cooing; debating if he should ever let her out of his arms again. 
“...Yes sir.” 
“Good girl.” 
~~~♡~~~
Choking had come up a few times in the past. They’d talked about it but not done anything with it. Not since she wasn’t sure. She’d even brought up how her ex (the bastard) had tried to choke her out before she managed to flip them over and bolt to Max’s own room. 
He wasn’t going to push for that. Never something that could be triggering. They’d decided that his hand gently putting pressure on the back of her neck was enough. She liked that and Max liked that she was communicating. 
But sometimes - even that can be enough to bring back memories. He’d been lucky so far to not have triggered anything. Max knows from experience that even movements that are too quick can have an adverse reaction. 
It’s not late, the sun is barely setting over the Monaco sky. Though - he’s not paying attention to the time so it could also be rising. He’d never know the difference. He’s only focused on the mess of a female he has underneath him. 
She’s not formed a coherent string of words since orgasm number three. Only able to squeak out his name alongside little whimpers. It’s safe to say Max is pussy drunk and can’t get enough of her. He’s not satisfied yet, and wants to see how far he can push.
Max isn’t sure which touch triggers it. He’s pressed up against her in most spots leaving it hard to decipher where he ends and she begins. 
He only notices she’s slipped into that awful middle headspace when he pulls back for just a second, intent on picking his pace back up. The confused fear that settles over her expression makes him freeze, patiently assessing the situation. 
Her teeth clatter together, the pain of something evident. The breathing pattern he’d been waiting to even out only gets worse. “Schat, can you take a big breath for me?” He settles the palm of his hand against her rapidly beating heart. His concern only grows when she doesn’t show any signs of hearing him. 
She makes a defensive movement to cover her throat with her own hands, silently pleading with her eyes not to touch her in such a vulnerable location. It dawns on him, that in his own flurry of movements, it’s possible he brushed her neck and set off her emotions.
“I’m going to step away from you for a second so I’m not touching, okay?” Her eyes go wide with panic and he knows she’s probably struggling to comprehend. The sadness of her expression kills him as he detaches. 
Tears prick her eyes the second contact breaks completely. She snatches hold of Max’s own wrist and in a last ditch effort to make him stay, tries to press his fingers around her airway. “Nonono, schat, I know you don’t want that.” When he’s able to hold her gently once more after having resituated, the sobs she’d been biting back finally escape. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe, I would never do something you didn’t want.” 
Max doesn’t grimace when her nails press into his bare skin; when she’s clinging to him for stability. He holds her, hums, helps her to try and steady her breath. 
“Mm’ sorry-” 
“Shh, you’ve nothing to be sorry for. Rest now.” 
~~~♡~~~
Max manages to coax her into sleeping. She’s cute like this, curled up against him with her ear pressed against his chest. He presumes the rhythmic sound of his thudding heart is helping calm her mind. He makes a mental note to invest in some kind of white noise for if (he knows it’ll be a when, but he’s choosing to be optimistic). 
“Max?” Her eyes crack open, only to shut tight again when she yawns. 
“Hello beautiful, how are you feeling?” He tosses his phone aside to give her his full attention. 
“Better - I think. I’m not sure I liked that feeling.”
“I would be concerned if you did, schat.” 
She stretches her limbs out and flops further over the top of him. “Thank you… I was scared I messed up and you were going to leave.” He has to take a deep breath and remember that anger at the man who put these crazy thoughts in her head is no longer able to come close. He made sure of that with a few cryptic messages glued together in newspaper words and Lando’s artistic assistance. 
“You’ve bewitched me! Body and soul… or something-”
“Are you trying to quote Pride and Prejudice?” 
“Is it working?” He’s blushing at his own lame attempt. Victoria would have his head for this later. Problems for future Max. 
She giggles. “Not really - but I’ll give you a pass this time.” 
Max gets her out of bed and into a bath. He makes a show of letting her pout to join her inside win out. He lost that battle before it even started, but she doesn’t need to know that. 
“It’s nice… trusting someone like this.” She relaxes against him, the water now lukewarm and the bubbles having dissipated. 
“You still trust me?” Oops - Max hadn’t meant to let his own insecurity about the ordeal leak out. Oh well…
She tilts her head in confusion. “Why would I not?” 
“It happens sometimes after a drop like that. At least - I’ve heard it can. I figured I was lucky enough that it hadn’t.” 
“I think you’re just good at this. Not like you were trying to hurt me.” She shrugs. “I trust you, Max. You have given me nothing but your undying love and support.” 
“...Now look who’s being sappy!” 
“At least mine is original.” 
“Can you at least pretend that I’ve also given you some really good dick?” 
“Fine! Nothing but your undying devotion to me and some really dick. Happy?”
Max sighs happily and drags her body as close to his as he can manage. “With you? Always.”
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thebearer · 9 months
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can you make a fic of teenage teddy and (beekeeping age) carm?? like how their relationship would be and his reaction to her growing up so fast 😭
beekeeping age plzzzz lmao. he would be dilflicious and you all know he would!!! no real tw besides teenage teddy, underage drinking, and mentions to mikey???
"Cousin," Richie's voice was eerily calm on the other line. Carmen's eyes sprung open, sitting up in the bed, the grogginess from sleep was gone. "Don't freak out."
"What's goin' on? What happened?" Carmen didn't listen to Richie's advice, snatching the clock to see the time- three-twenty-two am.
"I said don't freak out, alright?" Richie tried again, the tone he used when he was about to tell Carmen something that would make him go nuclear.
"Don't fuck with me right now. What's goin' on?" Carmen's heart was hammering, shimmying on his sweat pants.
"Carm," You muttered, groggy and rasping through sleep. "What's wrong?"
"Go to sleep, baby. I got it." Carmen muttered, pressing a kiss to your head, hand stroking down your cheeks, the impressions of your pillow pressed into your still warm skin.
"Richie, I'm not fuckin' around anymore, ok? What's goin' on?" Carmen hissed, shutting the door softly, padding down the dark hall.
"Carmen, I want to remind you that we have all been teenagers before. Very young, very stupid." Richie hummed.
Carmen's spine went rigid, icy fear shooting through his nervous system. His eyes flickered up the stairs. Teddy.
"Where are you?" Carmen snatched his keys and coat, patting the pocket to make sure his Spirits were in there- he deserved one, he could already tell.
"I'm at my house, but listen- it's not bad, ok?" Richie tried again, his voice raising a little higher to emphasize over Carmen's ramblings.
"What did she do? Is she ok?" Carmen snapped, slamming the car door shut and tearing out of the garage like a lunatic, pulling onto the unusually calm Chicago streets, tearing towards Richie's house.
Carmen was buzzing- maybe with rage, maybe with fear, maybe both. The fifteen year old had managed to sneak out, going to some party with Eva, who was a sophomore at UIC now. The two had always been close, and now that Eva was in college, they were even closer. How Teddy managed to talk her cousin into bringing her to a college party, no one was sure. The campus police busted it up and found Teddy there, making her call her parent to come get her. Carmen tried to ignore the sinking in his chest that Teddy had called Richie over him.
Teddy looked entirely too old sitting on Richie's couch, in a sweatshirt that clearly covered up whatever she was wearing.
"Go." Carmen gave a sharp jerk of his head, pushing the front door open. "Go to the car."
"Dad, I-"
"-Now, Dorothea." Carmen snapped, tracking her with furious eyes while she stomped out the door.
Richie waited until the car door shut to snicker. "That kid," He pointed towards Carmen's car. "Fuckin' Mikey reincarnated, cousin."
"Don't." Carmen shook his head. "Don't fuckin' say that."
"Cousin, hey, woah. I meant that as a compliment, what's the matter with you?" Richie held his hands up in defense.
"A compliment? Mikey was a fuckin' drug addict and blew his brains out-"
"-Carmen, hold up." Richie cut him off, wide eyes that steadied Carmen's shaking nerves. "You... You fuckin' know I would never... Carm." Richie sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Mikey wasn't always a junkie or-or addicted to that shit, ok? I know you fuckin' know that."
Carmen could feel his heart drop, the lump growing thicker and thicker in his throat. It had been years now since Mikey's death, but there were still times it would hit Carmen. Crashing, furious waves that had his chest tightening at the thought.
"Teddy... she's a fuckin' funny kid, alright? That's all I meant. She reminds me of Mikey when we were in high school. Doin' stupid shit and havin' fun. She's a kid, and she's a good kid. Better than Mikey, actually, she's got a better head on her shoulder." Richie said. Carmen didn't move, just let him talk.
"It's not a bad thing to say she's like Mikey. She's a good kid and so was he. He... I mean, he fucked up bad and got all fucked up, but... he was always still good."
"Yeah," Carmen croaked, wiping his nose to hide his emotions. He could see Teddy in the passenger seat, head pressed against the window, scrolling 'sneakily' through her phone (the glare gave her away).
"She didn't snitch on Eva, you know that?" Richie snorted lightly. "Cops asked her who she was with, and she said she was just walkin' by and saw it."
Carmen rolled his eyes. Richie grinned. "That's some Mikey shit right there, don't even say it's not."
"It is." Carmen nodded. "Thanks f'pickin' her up."
"C'mon," Richie shook his head. "Go easy on her, Carm. She's a kid."
Carmen waved him off, hands balled in his jacket when he got in the car. Teddy glanced at him carefully, while Carmen backed out of the drive.
They both didn't say anything, Richie's words ringing around his head. "You hungry?" Carmen muttered.
"What?" Teddy squeaked, a little surprised at his calm demeanor.
"You hungry?" Carmen asked, looking over at her. She wasn't the little toddler that used to clamber around The Bear in plastic heels. No, she was growing up. Older now, looking more like you every single day.
"Yeah." Teddy muttered.
Carmen turned into a diner, a twenty-four-seven one he'd taken you when the two of you were younger. Way younger, before kids, before you ever really even knew each other- when your relationship was new and exciting.
It was dingier now, still smelled like old grease and batter. The coffee was still burnt when it was poured into his cup. Teddy still ordered chocolate chip pancakes which made Carmen's heart swell.
"Hey," Carmen muttered, catching a reflection of his own eyes staring back at him, on a face that looked so much like yours. "I, uh, I want you to know if you ever... If you're ever in a situation like that again, you know you can call me or mom."
Teddy blinked back at him, careful and waiting. "We're not... I mean, we're not gonna be mad if you ever need us, ok? You can always call me if you need to- you should always call me if you need to."
Teddy nodded slowly, twirling her straw around her glass. "So... you're not mad?" She asked hesitantly.
Carmen snorted lightly. "I'm not thrilled, but I'm not mad." He said. "I'm glad you're ok."
Teddy nodded again, lips twisting in thought- just like you did. "So does that mean I'm not in trouble?"
Carmen smirked. "What do you think, kid?" He snorted, shaking his head. Teddy's face fell slightly, face falling in a sullen pout but she nodded anyways.
Carmen made sure Teddy was in her bed when they got home, tucking her in with a kiss to her head, like he always did when she was little. You felt the bed dip, turning towards Carmen's warm chest, his arms finding your waist easily. He smelled faintly like cigarette smoke, stale grease.
"What was wrong with the restaurant?" You muttered, eyes still closed, face burying against his chest.
Carmen would let you think it was the restaurant, at least until the morning. No reason to worry you when Teddy was back home safe. "I got it handled, baby. Go back to bed." His hand slid down your hair, your body melting into his easily.
Carmen lied awake, holding you against his chest, thinking back to Mikey. The good times with Mikey, when he was loud and fun and carefree, always messing with Carmen and just fun. Thinking back to the Mikey he was before. He missed his brother, he did, but Richie was right- Teddy had so many similarities to him, all the good ones. The thought made Carmen comforted, that he still had a part of his brother's spirit still here with him, little reminders of Mikey in his daughter.
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xstarkillerx · 8 months
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PLEASE OMG!! I’m a slut for overstimulation so that idea you had about the squirting?!?!? I’ll be on the lookout on your page like an Amazon package I can’t wait to get 😭😭😭
I never really planned on fleshing that one out, to be honest, but because you liked it so much let me go grab what Indy and I said when we were talking about it! Pretty much all of this was prompted by indy saying brian was a squirt loving, pussy slapper which... it sent me on a Brian-fueled tirade of 5 minutes worth of voice memos lol
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Nsfw under cut
But basically, what I pictured is sitting beween his legs on his bed (always the 2 fast 2 furious boat), with your back against him. He's shirtless and you're completely naked, skin damp with sweat and catching against his every time you try to slump down further. He's been touching you for hours.
The first time he makes you squirt, it doesn't even cross your mind to be embarrassed about the mess you just made in someone else's bed because he takes his wet hand, and pulls you in for a hungry kiss. It's in your hair, on your face, on your lips like he wants it all over you; he doesn't even break the kiss before he starts touching you again. Dripping and still sensetive he pinches your clit just to feel you yelp against his lips, he doesn't bother touching you slowly after that, he wants to hear you whine.
"Oh, I know, I'm sorry," he says, against your wet neck. " I had to, I had to." He's smiling against your skin, not an ounce apology in his voice, nor a trace of a promise that he won't do it again.
Gross, we called him, mess maker, a little cruel. He makes you cum twice before his pants even come off and he tells you it's because you're insatiable, because his dick just wouldn't be enough for you, would it? At this point your skin is hot, red, wet with sweat and squirt he's wiped all over you and you're slumped further down his body than you were an hour ago. Brian's leaving kisses at your temple, on your damp hair, down your cheek, to your ear, just admiring the giant puddle on the sheets before you.
"Want me to fuck you in the wet spot? Yeah, you want it, I know you do." To seal the deal he guides you to his hard dick to remind you he got you like this with his hands alone, massive, strong, calloused and sticky with your cum. Your muscles are spent, eyes half lidded, but eager to please, you nod.
It almost hurts, to feel your skin peel away from his with the way sweat has melded your bodies together. Brian positions you onto all fours, laughing, calling you "Bambi," under his breath with the way your limbs shake. It takes little more than a nudge to your shoulder to put you in prone, tits, stomach, face pressed against wet cotton. He puts himself on top of you and slides in so easily it makes your eyes roll back, he calls you "easy," and that puts a knot in your stomach. Maybe his big hand places itself at your neck and pushes your face further into the wet spot, just to be a little mean, just to see you get messier, hear you whine his name in complaint. It's his favourite sound in the world, you know.
"Briiiaaannn," cute and muffled with your own fucking wetness on your lips.
"Shut up, you like gettng messy," all boyish cockiness while he fucks in and out of you. "Letting me fuck you in your own mess, are you dirty baby? You dirty?"
All you can really bring yourself to do is whine, maybe reach back to paw at his bicep if you've still got it in you.
Hope you liked it! I tried to whip it into something with a little more shape than its original form, it was a half-baked horny concept at best, but Brian liking squirt is worth talking about.
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nataliesdog · 7 months
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enemy natalie hate sex after practice...
warnings: dubcon,fingering, public sex,natalie calling herself mommy!!!,LESBIANS KISSING 👩‍❤️‍👩 ( for you HOMOPHOBES )
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It wasn't weird to say that you and Natalie absolutely loathed each other. Always throwing snarky remarks at one another after you purposely tripped her and then laughed or when she would whine to Jackie about how ass you were at soccer (just so she could get your attention ), and today's soccer practice had absolutely no difference from any other practice.
"Shut up already!" you yelled at Natalie, rolling your eyes as you walked in the girls' changing room,sweat running down your face from practice.
"How about you learn how to pass the ball first and then talk?" Natalie's annoyed choice rang through the girls' changing rooms while she walked behind you,her hair in a ponytail while panting slightly.
Deciding to ignore her, you walked over to your bag, taking out your water bottle and bringing it to your lips,a few droplets running down your throat.
You felt Natalie's eyes piercing right through you,her hands sweaty as she was looking at your neck, trying to ignore how hot you looked and focus instead of how you "sucked" at the game.
"Such a loser" the bleach blonde girl smirks while saying this, looking at you eagerly to see how you'll reply and instead she's met with nothing as she watches you roll your eyes and walk away.
She felt furious,how could you act so calmly after setting her nerves on fire?how could you just ignore her?how could you not give her attention?
She stormed over to you angrily, pushing you against your locker.
"What are you doing?" You yelled, trying to get out of her grip, ignoring how she was touching you in all the right places and made your cheeks heat up.
"Stop ignoring me" Natalie replied back harshly,her hand sneaking into your panties while the other held your thigh.
You felt like you were going to faint,was this really happening?
And before you could ever process what's happening, you felt Natalie's skilled fingers rubbing your clit with a smirk,her lips quickly attaching themselves to your neck.
Moans leaving your lips as you held onto her shoulders to stabilise yourself, throwing your head back against the locker when you soon felt her enter 2 fingers inside of you.
Your eyes rolling at the back of your head as you started swearing at the fast pace of Natalie's fingers going in and out of you.
"So pretty when you shut up" Natalie says in a quiet tone that made you even wetter than you already were, curling her fingers up in a "come here" motion to hit your g-spot and by the looks of it,she did.
"found it, didn't i?" She teased, rubbing that spot with a laugh as she watched you completely fall apart under her.
"P-please let me cum" your small voice begged,tears welling up in your eyes as you were so close, clenching around her fingers, praying she wouldn't stop.
And your prayers clearly weren't heard as her fingers slowed down, teasingly taking them out of your pussy with a pop before teasing the entrace,her thumb rubbing your clit while staring down at you.
"Oh,yeah?and why do you think i should let you cum? always being so mean to me and ignoring me" Natalie mocked you,a pout on her lips that made her look so innocent,if it wasn't for her fingers absolutely ruining you.
"I'll start being nice to you, please. I'm sorry" you cried out,your hands going to Natalie's hair, tugging at it before smashing your lips on hers.
Your answer seemed to satisfy Natalie and so,her fingers entered you once again, making you gasp in her mouth, bucking your hips up slightly.
"gonna be a good girl for me,hm?gonna cum for mommy?" Natalie whispered against your lips before sucking a hickey on your neck, moving her fingers as fast as she could while also rubbing your clit.
Moans and groans spilled out of your mouth as you begged her,almost crying from the pleasure.
"it's okay love, taking my fingers so well,you can cum" were the last words you needed to hear before cumming around her fingers,a loud moan of her name escaping your lips as she continued rubbing your clit through your high before smirking and pulling out her now sticky fingers, bringing them to her mouth and sucking on them.
"i hate you" you said after catching your breath and kissing Natalie, tasting yourself on her tongue and pulling away right after.
"The feelings mutual,you fucker" the blonde said with a laugh before pausing. "Our fights should end up like this more often"
maybe,just maybe,she wasn't that bad after all.
You rolled your eyes while slapping her arm,your lips curving up into a smile. "You know what,i think you're right"
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Text
Want You Back | ateez x reader
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Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader
Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?
Warnings for this chapter: yelling, Mrs. Kim has lost the plot...
Word Count: 1884 words
a/n: Happy New Year! <3 I'm excited to write more this year and bring more ideas to life! Now that the poll has closed, I'm happy to announce there will be a book 2! Here's a little update of my writing plans for the first part of the year. Happy reading! :)
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Chapter 9
Seonghwa didn’t believe in soul bonds initially. He thought it was a rather far-fetched idea that the relationship of two people was predestined and they were meant for each other. He lived life without even considering that there was someone out there for him and he might’ve just become a lone alpha leading his pack. 
Then he met you.
But before you came, there was Yunho, who Seonghwa saw as a close and dear friend at first, who radiated kindness and warmth and balanced out Seonghwa’s realist attitude. In contrast to Seonghwa, Yunho believed in soul connections and would try to make Seonghwa see reason.
And finally, Seonghwa did, the day Mingi and Hongjoong rolled down the hill and knocked Yunho over.
It all happened so fast, Seonghwa wasn’t sure what to make of it. He was watching something in the window while Yunho went to throw out his trash. The next thing he knew, two people were tumbling towards him and he stepped out of the way, only for poor Yunho to face the impact and get knocked down like a bowling pin.
Then you rushed down the hill, calling out for Hongjoong and Mingi and nearly tripped on thin air. Being the gentleman he is, Seonghwa swiftly stepped forward to catch you and that was when he felt it, the exhilarating and momentous feeling electrifying every part of him as the two of you made contact.
He forgot about his friend on the floor alongside the other two as he finally believed that there is someone meant for him in this lifetime — that someone being you. 
You opened up his heart and he was able to connect with all the other boys.
Now, here you were, in a hospital room. Chan knew a lot of people, and was able to get his friend Yuna to have you taken in the wing where supernatural beings were treated. It was a shadow hospital right behind the real one, just a few corridors away from the human side. 
From the window, Seonghwa stood completely despondent and broken. He had failed you as a mate and as an alpha. He went against his better judgment and followed Hongjoong despite his instinct telling him something was wrong. He should’ve listened, maybe if he did, you wouldn’t be here in this position today. He was too scared to look at the others.
Wooyoung was bawling his eyes out while latched onto San whose eyes were puffy and red, Jongho was angry and wanted to punch something or someone, Yeosang had his head in his hands and Yunho, who had tears rolling down his cheeks and kept wiping them away, tried to console Mingi who kept whispering the words “You’re gonna be okay,” over and over again.
Hongjoong was nowhere to be found.
Seonghwa had a few choice of words to exchange with Hongjoong if he decided to show his face. Chan had Felix and Seungmin go back to the café to bring him here, but when the two walked through the door, they entered with no sign of Hongjoong.
“Where’s the traitor?”
“Jisung!”
“We don’t know,” Seungmin answered, “No one was there when we arrived.”
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Felix continued, “He’s missing.”
Meanwhile, at the mansion, Mr Kim was furious. The only time he had been this angry was 25 years ago, and here he was again, furious and brimming with rage at the same person, just like 25 years ago.
"You've done it now Estelle!" Mr Kim’s voice boomed throughout the house.
He couldn’t believe what he just saw and heard. Mrs Kim stood shamelessly in the foyer conversing with a rogue about the results of the plan. A plan to get rid of you.
For Mrs Kim, she remembered vividly the day her husband denounced their bond. And she remembers her son bringing you home years after on the same day it happened. Something about the whole thing and seeing you so bright and cheery, sparked unsettling jealousy inside her and she could not come to terms with the idea of you leading a life that should’ve belonged to her.
She would not allow it.
She rathered her son to marry someone who she selected. As for the other boys, well, she would handle them after dealing with you.
 On the other hand, Mr Kim was beyond infuriated. He had earnestly hoped she would step back from pestering you, but the fact that it had come to this…a clear threat on your life, it was unimaginable. And Mr Kim knew that if Hongjoong had put the pieces together, there was going to be hell on earth and someone would have to pay.
"It needed to be done! She argued, “Why are you constantly taking her side? You need a strong daughter-in-law!" 
"She is strong. She's put up with you hasn't she? When Hongjoong gets to know..."
"He won't. I will explain it to him, he will understand, I did this all for him."
"Are you sure about that?" Hongjoong seethed.
Kim Hongjoong made a lot of mistakes up to this point. He wasn’t sure how he would even start to make up for it. He wasn’t even sure if he was worthy of redemption. But if there was at least one thing he could do right, it was to stand up to his mother and knock her off of her high horse.
“I cannot believe you tried to harm Y/N! Have you lost your damn mind!?” He screeched venomously.
“How dare you talk to your mother like that!?” Mrs Kim spat, “It’s all because of that low-class girl you—”
“NO!” Hongjoong roared, “Don’t even think of finishing that sentence. Low-class? You’re describing yourself mother, because time and time again you stooped so low to break her. And for what? For some petty and lame excuse you concocted to reason your past actions? You were the one who destroyed your chance at having a blissful life. WHY MUST MY MATES AND I SUFFER!?”
"Joongie..." Lila started.
When Lila heard Hongjoong’s voice, she was elated. She thought he finally came back to her after ending things with you.
Lila would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a twinge of guilt. She did — you were nothing but kind to her the first few times she interacted with you, even when you had found out about her and Hongjoong’s secret little rendezvous, she knew that you were aware yet you had plastered a brave face when you greeted her at pack banquets.
She saw the way you were loved, not only by your mates but by the pack — the pups, the mansion’s staff, the other packs. She overheard the way the little girls would gush about you — wanting to be like you when they grew up. She particularly saw the way one little girl would rush to you and open her arms wide indicating that she wanted you to hold her, and the way you two would spin around and swiftly move across the room, laughing and giggling in your own world. The first time she saw it, she noticed the way the boys would look at you with so much adoration and love, and how some of them, particularly Seonghwa would join you. The three of you looked like a perfect family. 
Lila never had that. She had ended things with her mate after he chose someone else over her, and when her father sent her to your district and she met the boys, she wanted the life you had so badly.
But Lila was no fool, even though she managed to entice Hongjoong a bit, she knew his heart still and might only beat for you. She saw it clearly when she tried to touch his moon necklace that had your birthstone engraved, he stopped her hand so quickly and let out a warning growl. Although she knew what they had was superficial more than anything, she desperately hoped that he would see her as something more.
“Joong…” she softly called.
"NO! Don't you even dare Lila, it was a mistake on my part to give in, I should’ve faced my problems head on but I did what my mother did and came up with excuses."
"'I did it for you Hongjoong!” Mrs Kim bellowed, “Can’t you see that? You and Lila can rule this pack together, we can form an alliance with her pack and be even stronger amidst everyone!”
“All I see is a criminal in front of me. You’re power-hungry mother. And you only want that for yourself and your lover.”
“So what if I do? He loves me, your father doesn’t. Why should the person who genuinely cares for me suffer? Why should your father get everything?”
“Estelle…” Mr Kim was dumbfounded by her statements.
“Because my father worked for it! He built this pack from nothing, the mansion you live in now is because of him. It’s selfish of you to think your lover deserves it. The fact that you think you deserve something meant for someone else, makes you undeserving of everything you have at all, Mother.”
“NO! I deserve it more than anyone. And as my son you will -”
“When Chan briefly described the blade used, it dawned on me that’s our family’s heirloom, which meant you were behind it. AND I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WOULD DO THIS!!!” Hongjoong bellowed viciously, eyes turning his werewolf gold and his werewolf teeth beginning to protrude from all his rage.
“You are my son, and I will not let you be with someone who I do not accept. You will be with Lila, you will leave those boys and that girl and YOU WILL DO AS I SAY!” Mrs Kim screamed.
"No I will not. Let me make this clear mother, nothing will happen to Y/N, Y/N may never forgive me…and I may have to spend eternity making up for my sins, but I am willing to do so. And if I don't get to make amends because of what you did, I will personally see to it that your lover’s clan’s be demolished, the fact that he’s also a part of it and shakes hands under the table with rogues… I cannot wait to end him.”
“Wait that means...”  Mr Kim said.
“The attack on the mansion that night? It was her and her lover’s plan. They riled up the rogues, made a few negotiations and sent them here to attack.”
“Joongie” Lila whimpered.
“How do you even know—”
“How do I know that? Someone helped me see reason, and he is also extremely livid right now. The both of us alone will bring terror to each and every one of them, add on the guys and Y/N’s other friends…that traitorous pack wouldn’t even stand a chance.”
Hongjoong turned to Lila who had tears in her eyes. He still chose you over her.
“It’s my fault too, but I’m going to do what’s right, I had told you this once before Lila, no one messes with my family, and your father made the worst mistake of his life.”
Hongjoong turned to leave, sparing a glance at his mother.
“I will right the wrongs committed by you mother…”
He breathed out heavily.
“That’s a promise.”
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Taglist:
@eastleighsblog @sehun096rainbow @greensnakeglobep @satsuri3su @zonked-times @sugarrush-blush @lomons @explorewithd @chatsgotmytongue @scarfac3 @popcatx0 @angrynightnight @sannieluvrr @idfkeddieishot @alicia-dpa @park-simphwa @puppyminnnie @mysticfire0435 @sundayysunshine @chngbnwf @dementedaly @thunderous-wolf @itsmeregan @cookiechristie @hyukssunflower
254 notes · View notes
aryxchse · 24 days
Note
No cause now I need more. Like I don't know headcannons or something about how they got together and how their parents reacted.
LIKR IMAGINE THE FAMILY GATHERINGS!SGAHSJSKSN
Something- anything please I am begging😭
percy jackson x daughter of amphitrite! reader headcanons.
a / n : feeding my inner self ship here LMAO and also this is literally headcanons that made up from my ass, so idk if amphitrite would have a cabin, because they didn't make one even for her honor sooo.. yeah
warnings : cursing, fighting, blood mention, injury mention, basically just two waterbenders in love
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- it was all camp half blood's fault
- you didn't had a cabin of your own, but they thought you staying in the poseidon cabin was the best decision
- well it was.. until percy got claimed
- you both had to share the same cabin, and he wasn't the best at keeping it clean
- all those years, getting a 10 from the cabin check, you got 5 because of him
- and it made you furious
- but, a nice girl you are, instead of breaking his heart, you warned him
- "next time we get a 5 from the cabin check, i will break your surfboard into pieces 😊"
- "yes ma'am 🫡" no ofc he didn't said that
- but he thought that as he nervously shake his head
- well, he didn't really had a time to clean his cabin, so the promise was forgotton
- and you learned to pick up after his back
- it was a beautiful afternoon when annabeth barged into your cabin
- "percy's in a fight and we can't stop him."
- these are the questions that you should've asked when she said that : what's that have to do with me? what am i even gonna do? why are you coming to me? what the fu-
- but what you did instead : run to percy
- alright, i guess you two have a bond now
- "alright seaweed brain, get your ass back up," you said as you yanked grabbed him by the arm and pushing him aside
- he tried to run to the boy he was beating back again, but you just pushed him by his chest and slowly lead him to your cabin
- "dude what the hell is going on with you?" you asked as you both enter. he was panting, sitting on his bed and holding his head. "percy? i asked you a question."
- "he was saying something shitty about you, and i couldn't just stand there and listen him. okay?" he said, not facing you.
- oh
- ooohhhhhh
- 😏
- "why though?" you sat next to him on the bed, too suprised to even get mad at him
- "you always got my back in cabin check so, i got your back outside, i guess." he simply shrugged
- alright mr in love
- and with that, you both got really close
- this was your breaking point in 'awkward energy'
- surfing competitions where it's just you two racing? check
- married dolphin and shark plushies? check
- going to an aquarium? double check
- the animals were once your enemy back then because of your mother, was your friends now
- same as percy
- and when you both started dating, percy realised how relaxed he was around you
- like when he was little, he would listen to ocean sounds to calm himself down after a stressful day
- and you have the same affect on him
- later he learned that children of amphitrite have that affect on children of poseidon and that's why annabeth bringed you that day
- talking of the parents
- the meeting was the most hilarious thing happened to you both
- because they already knew
- one time. ONE TIME YOU KISSED PERCY UNDERWATER AND THE FUCKING FISH WERE ALREADY EVERYWHERE-
- "ohh lord perseus and princess y/n"
- "ohh they're kissing"
- and suprisingly gossip spreads around ocean VERY FAST
- you both got a call from atlantic or smth to get there fast
- they weren't angry or anything, poseidon loved you and weirdly your mom loved percy
- they were just.. suprised
- "what type of history shit is going on here-"
- "POSEIDON."
- you understand where percy got his humor from now
- alright moving on to real parent SALLY MF JACKSON!!
- you think you being her ex's wife's daughter will make her hate you?
- well yeah, but sally jackson is the definition of angel
- and she doesn't care about your godly side as long as you're making percy happy by just being in his life
- so as you can say, you guys are already besties
- moving on again to u and percy
- underwater kisses duh
- silly blue shirts about fishes
- watching ariel, moana, lost fish nemo and dory and all of the sea shit together
- and recreating the musical scenes
- you having a signature pegasus friend like him
- and him having a dolphin one like you
- you guys just rule the lake atp
- living in the same cabin is the best thing ever happened to percy
- because he get to cuddle you EVERY NIGHT without having to worry about getting caught
- and tyson? basically your children
- seashell jewelry gifts from percy
- always wearing blue together
- also eating blue food
- this fic is really long rn but you both are yue and sokka tbh
- give yue one more chance!!
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red-dead-sakharine · 4 months
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Tickles
gn!tav, RaphaelPOV, humor, sfw until Haarlep shows up, ace, body worship Cover art by the wonderful @octarinecat!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 & 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
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"And what did-ihihihihi!" he paused, confused. He looked down at Korrilla, who was just reporting to him. She stared at him with a bewildered expression, "Boss?"
"Yes? I don't-teeheeheeheehee!" he clutched his side, confused, irritated. What was this? What was- "Hhhhahahaha!" the laughter escaped him, despite his best efforts. It felt like something was poking his side. It was irritating. It was... it was.... "Heeheehihihihihi!" he giggled. This was embarrassing - he hated it!
Korrilla stared at him wide-eyed, then looked around. Searching for someone who might be casting a spell - but there was nobody nearby. They were alone in the devil's den. "Eeheeheeheehihihihi!" his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, snickering and giggling. He couldn't help himself. This was ridiculous! What in the hells was going on!? He flinched involuntarily as he felt his side poked particularly hard, and another laugh escaped him.
He looked at the dwarf and she looked at him - it hit them both at the same time: "Haarlep", they said in unison. Followed by another particularly strong giggle from Raphael.
"Go and stop, whatever he'sheeheeheeheeheehee!" He screamed in rage at the involuntarily giggles.
"I got it, boss." Korrilla assured him and vanished.
The minutes following dragged on like an eternity, interspersed with soft giggles and violent laughter, so debilitating that it left him prone on the floor.
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"I'm going to kihihihihihihill him!" he screamed in rage, not even able to utter a threat without being interrupted by laughter.
What was taking Korrilla so long!? His sides hurt. After some time Korrilla appeared again,... smirking?
"What are you-hoohoohihihihihihihi! AHHRR! What have you been doing!? You didn't fix it!" He would've lashed out, if he'd been able to get up for long enough.
"I am very, very sorry, boss." Korrilla exclaimed, walking over to him, "I fear you'll have to see for yourself." she offered herself to help him up, and he looked at her with murder in his eyes. Then he giggled like a little school girl and dismayed.
"GRAH fine! Bring me to him!" he demanded, and used her shoulder to push himself up, then he doubled over in another fit of laughter.
One enlarge spell later, the dwarf was just tall enough to be a serviceable crutch, as they teleported back to the House of Hope. Never before had the walk from the entrance, to his boudoir felt so long. They had to stop multiple times, because his knees gave in, as another strong attack of giggles befell him.
"I'm going to kill Haarlep and whoever he's with!" he growled ...and snickered.
After an excruciatingly long walk, they finally reached the boudoir. Rounding the pool counter-clockwise, he noticed a few figures standing to the left near the bed. And they noticed him.
"Well, here he is. It was nice, knowing you!" he heard the vampire spawn's voice from across the pool. "Chk! I hope this was worth it." the githyanki's voice added. Then he saw the gathered companions hurry towards the exit, keeping the pool between him and them.
That's right, he thought, the moment I have control over my body again, I'll shred you all to pieces! Run as fast as you can! His inner thoughts were disrupted by another silly giggle, and he growled in rage.
"There you are. Finally!" Tav was straddling Haarlep on top of the large bed. An impish smile on their face, Haarlep below them with tears of laughter in their eyes and a big smile on their face. They were still clothed, and the incubus was still wearing their leathers.
Raphael's face was the opposite of Haarlep's. Red from anger - and laughter - contorted in rage to a furious grimace. He let go of Korrilla and stood up tall to stare Tav down. They smiled at him mischievously and poked into Haarlep's side. Haarlep snickered, Raphael flinched with a grin. No! This was not what he wanted to be doing! He hated not having control over his body. These involuntary happy noises coming from his own mouth made him sick!
"Cut this out at once!" he demanded.
He could see Haarlep's tail swish across the bed in excitement. Just you wait, he thought, you're in just as much trouble as they are!
"Or what?" Tav replied, grinning from ear to ear and poked Haarlep's side again several times. Both, the incubus and Raphael started snickering.
"STOP!" Raphael commanded in between giggles, but Tav didn't listen. His knees were buckling again and he ended up on the ground, clutching his side. Korrilla shuffled away from him and the bed, towards the exit. Not leaving entirely, but she got out of the danger zone for now.
Eventually Tav stopped, looking back to him as he sat on the ground. Clutching his side in a hopeless attempt of stopping the tickles. But it wasn't his body that was being tickled. He's never felt so embarrassed, so powerless, so... helpless. He tried to catch his breath and glared at Tav with all the fury of the nine hells. He's going to flay that grin off their face for this humiliation!
"Alright. You don't like being tickled, I get it." they eventually said, as if it hadn't been obvious before, "What about this?" He inhaled to tell them to stop whatever they were planning to do, but before he could say something, Tav bent down over Haarlep and gently sucked on one of his nipples. Raphael took a shuddered breath. No! He would not be manipulated like that! He got ready to push himself up but froze when he saw - felt - Tav's hands run gently across Haarlep's - his - chest. Lovingly. Adoringly. Kisses followed - from one nipple, across the chest to the other. Now this one was being loved, gently sucked. Caressed by Tav's tongue. Raphael couldn't get himself to stand up. Haarlep wriggled slightly underneath the mortal intruder, clearly enjoying themself.
This wasn't right. He shouldn't be enjoying this! He hated this! He hated being manipulated. His body being misused like this. Never mind, that he had thought of Tav in this manner before. But he should be the one initiating. Not Tav. Not that filthy creature Haarlep. He felt Tav's hands caressing his sides - no more tickles, only love. And kisses trail down his chest towards his bellybutton. His brows pulled together and he leaned back involuntarily, enjoying the sensation. And then it stopped. He blinked to refocus, and looked to Tav and Haarlep on the bed. That stupid mortal was looking at him, smiling. They'd seen that he enjoyed this. He felt exposed.
"You know," Tav began, "the tickles were just meant to get you to come here. Because," they got off Haarlep and sat beside them on the bed, facing Raphael, "I'd much rather be doing this with the real thing." Raphael shuddered slightly. He wanted them for a long while now, though he's been hiding it behind flirtations that were too obvious, too over the top, to be taken as genuine. He never expected that his favorite misadventurer would actually think of him like this. Think of him the way he thought of them.
He pushed himself up and began moving towards the bed. Haarlep crawled up into a sitting position, grinning with mischief. He shot the incubus a death glare. It got the point across and Haarlep slid off the bed and moved towards the exit. "Have fun," they whispered as they passed Raphael, who just growled in response.
Both the incubus and Korrilla made themselves scarce now, to leave the other two to their devices. They knew Raphael wanted, nay, needed this. He had been talking about Tav nonstop, after all.
"I should flay you alive for your insolence," Raphael growled as he came to a stop before the bed. "Then I wouldn't be able to worship you, though." Tav replied matter-of-factly, then added "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I just wanted you to come here." Raphael wrinkled his nose in anger. He wanted to scoff and be angry, but he couldn't quite manage. Not with Tav sitting on his bed in front of him. "Worship me?" he echoed, raising a brow in question. Tav simply pat the bed next to them in response.
[mood music]
He hesitated. He didn't want to relinquish control - ignoring the fact that he never had it in this situation. After a moment, he relented and climbed on the bed where Haarlep had been before. Tav smiled at him and his insides melted. Damn this stupid mortal! His frustrated thoughts dispersed into the void when Tav's hands appeared on his shoulders. They had crawled up behind him and their arms were snaking their way from his shoulders to his chest. Wrapping him in their embrace as they found the buttons of his doublet and started opening them. Slowly, one by one. It was exciting and agonizing at the same time. He wished they'd hurry up, but he didn't voice it. He just closed his eyes, feeling Tav's chest press against his back, and their arms around him, and their hands working their way through the buttons down his chest.
The doublet came off, then the shirt. Kisses on the back of his neck. He got goosebumps and cursed that his body was betraying him like this. He could feel Tav's smile as they kissed him again, and he knew they noticed. They trailed kisses along his shoulders and down his shoulder blades; their hands gently roaming across his chest, his belly, his sides. This was nothing like what Haarlep did to him. Haarlep would do foreplay if commanded to, but it was never with love nor care. This... this felt different. He felt... appreciated.
The bed shifted and he opened his eyes to see Tav crawl in front of him now. Hands on his chest, on his side. Kisses in the nape of his neck, on his chest. They ran their nose through the fluff of hair on his chest. He sighed. Damnit, he didn't mean to! More kisses on his chest. His nipples - o they were being spoiled. Sucked and caressed with a tongue. Not like Haarlep. Not rough and bitey and angry. This was unlike anything he knew. This was soft and caring and wonderful. His brows drew together again and he lifted his head involuntarily. This was nice. He felt appreciated. Kisses on his sides - where the annoying tickles had been before - yes good. An apology to his sensitive flanks. He accepted it. Kisses snaking towards his bellybutton again. He couldn't help but lift a hand to run it through Tav's hair. Soft. So soft. More kisses. He felt good.
Kisses up his chest again, paying taxes to his nipples in passing, going further up. Kisses on his neck again. He moaned. Gods be damned, he didn't mean to! A nibble on his ear, his breath hitched.
"Do you trust me?"
He nodded. Should he? His mind was fuzzy. He wanted more. More worship. That's what they called it, right?
He felt the buckle of his belt open, felt his fly unbutton. He opened one eye, looked at Tav. They gently pushed him to the side and onto his belly, sprawled across the bed. He was confused, but complied.
His pants went down. Why was he letting himself be exposed like this? He should be the one in control! He should be the one- hands on his bum. He paused. A kiss on his right butt cheek. He let his head drop onto the bed. A kiss on the left. Hands caressing his rear lovingly. He was dead and this was heaven.
More kisses up and down his butt. Then up his spine. He shuddered. Loving hands caressing his back. Kisses on his shoulders again. He could feel Tav's body brush against his rear, their legs against his, as they loomed over him. Worshiped him. Kisses up the back of his neck. A hand in his hair. He hummed in pleasure. A kiss on his cheek. He felt hot. He was sure he was blushing. Damn his body. Damn this mortal! He never felt like this with Haarlep.
Hands gently running over his torso. Another gentle kiss on his temple. He stifled a sigh. Hands trailing down his back again. Stroking his butt. Stroking his thighs. Kisses following them. A gentle lick on his right butt cheek. He shivered. What was this mortal doing to him. His little mouse. His little-- Another lick. His mind flew away to someplace else. More kisses on his rear. Loving. Caring. Not rough. Not savage with lust. Just affection. Not like Haarlep. Not possessive. Not with a single goal in mind. He grabbed the sheets, balled his fists and shuddered. This was all too much. Too much gentleness. Violence he knew. Rough he could handle. Bites and scratches and hungry humping, he knew. That's all he knew. Not this. Not these hands that stroked his body like it was a holy icon to be praised. Another kiss between his shoulder blades. Another moan escaped him. He pushed his face into the bedding, embarrassed, exposed. He should kill Tav for seeing him like this. Causing him to be like this. A hand in his hair again. A kiss on his temple. "Shhh," they whispered in his ear, and stroked his hair. Another kiss. So loving. So caring. He didn't know what to do with this affection. This gentleness. "I can't touch your wings, when you're in human form." a barely audible whisper in his other ear. He whined into the bedding in exasperation. Most mortals shied away from his true form. Were scared of it - found it monstrous. But his little mouse wanted to see it. Love it. He acquiesced and relinquished his human guise. He felt Tav dodge the wings as they appeared.
"Magnificent," he heard them breathe in awe. That's right, he thought, I am. Hands on his back. His thoughts flew away again. The hands felt smaller, now that he was bigger. But they felt just as good. As kind. They roamed up his back and towards his wings. Kisses following them up his spine again. At the base of his wings.
He felt the bed shift with Tav's weight as they climbed off him and to one side. Caring hands slowly ran along his wing. From the base up to where the joints connected, then down on the outermost spine. He shuddered at the gentle touch. It was wonderful. Too wonderful. It made him feel fuzzy. He stretched his other wing out to compensate. Kisses on his wings. He moaned. More kisses followed. Up and down the spines. Gentle hands stroking the membrane in between. This was bliss. This was rapture.
The weight in the bed shifted again, and he felt hands on his other wing. He was being tortured. Tortured with love. He didn't know what to do with it. With the affection. It was maddening and wonderful.
The hands and kisses repeated their ministrations on this wing, then moved towards his torso again. Gently wandering down his back. Like they couldn't just move to another place without touching and loving every bit of his body between here and there. A kiss on the base of his tail. He gasped, clutching the sheets more tightly. The reaction was not lost on his worshiper. Another kiss. Lips gliding down his tail, hands stroking it, kisses following it. A gentle lick. His body shook with pleasure. He couldn't think anymore. His brain had left his body. More gentle kisses. Another lick further down the tail. Hands gently kneading his tail muscles. He moaned again. He didn't care. A kiss at the very tip of his tail. A gentle suck. He was sure this wasn't reality anymore. Lips and hands working their way back up to the base of his tail, then down next to it. Another kiss on his right butt cheek. Then on his left. Hands roaming over his body. He was shivering uncontrollably now. He didn't know what to do with all these wonderful feelings. He wished someone would punch him. He knew what to do with pain. He didn't know what to do with love. Tav sank onto the bed next to him. A hand still caressing his back. He looked up - looked at them. His little mouse. They were lying next to him, head propped up with one hand, while the other was still stroking his back. He looked at them and he was powerless. They smiled at him and leaned in. A kiss on his forehead. On his nose. On his cheek. On his lips.
He could cry from bliss.
He's never been loved like this.
👉 Part 2
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mika-no-sekai-blog · 2 months
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Word count: 1300+
Warnings: none I think, but let me know if there's something that should be listed
Part VIII | Part X
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Rhysand wasn't particularly proud of himself and the way he appeared in front of his long lost sister and fetched her home, but rage blinded any common sense he had. Instead the instincts took over commanding him to protect. And so he did.
As soon as the decorated sitting room of his house appeared and his whole family stood up to welcome them, he felt better. A piece of his shattered heart healed and part of the weight on his shoulders fell off. However his relieve was short lived.
Still in his arms, Y/N took a fast look around, her eyes wide and full of fear, lips pressed together. A howl of agony left her as she bent over in waist. Her hands shot up and clenched into fists on her chest and with a sharp cry of pure pain she began falling.
Rhysand was shocked. So shocked he couldn't react nor breathe. He knew he had to do something, to catch her before she could hurt herself, but his body wouldn't move. Seconds stretched into minutes and he in horror watched it in a slow motion.
It was Azriel who moved forward, faster than anyone else, and caught her before she could hit her head. He cradled her against his broad chest and held her firmly as she trashed in pain, screaming, her eyes rolling back.
Mor, Amren and Cassian were there in a blink of eye, trying to help as much as they could.
"Rhysand," Azriel groaned through gritted teeth. Even though he was strong, he had trouble keeping her on place. "Do something! Help her!"
Rhysand inhaled sharply and forced his body to move. He squatted down, eyes scanning Y/N's body, looking for cause. He lost her once, he wouldn't allow it again.
Amren was holding his sister's hand, eyes gleaming in a dim light. She examined Y/N with remains of her powers. "She is under a strong binding spell. We don't have much time. It's killing her."
"Get out of my way," Rhysand barked and they immediately backed, making him enough space. He bent over Y/N trashing in Azriel's embrace. He squeezed her hand and put other hand on her forehead. His powers raised up as a wave around her petite body, searching and breaking whatever didn't belong there.
"I bet they didn't want her to leave that place," Amren murmured, watching them closely with narrowed eyes.
Y/N cried out one more time and her head fell to the side, body went limp. Everybody in the room tensed, eyes wide. Azriel's fingers immediately found her pulse point. Exhaling shakily he nodded. She was alive.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
"I'm going to kill that bastard," Cassian growled.
"Yeah, sure, dear. Go and sneeze him to death," More snorted, her trembling fingers played with strands of blonde hair. She was furious, too.
"I strongly doubt Tamlin knew who she is or anything about this," Lucien said coolly. All eyes turned to him. He stood behind them, arms crossed on his chest, brows furrowed.
"He certainly-," Cassian started, but Lucien stopped him.
"Think whatever you want, but Tamlin is nothing like his father or brothers. I spent decades with him, so I dare to say I know him better than anyone in this room. He cares about people whether they belong to Spring Court or no."
Feyre nodded in agreement.
"If he knew about her, he would provide her with much better accommodation and care, and he would see to it that she returned to her family as soon as possible," Lucien said firmly, gazing straight into Rhysand's eyes.
Rhysand looked back at him, jaw tightening, but he said nothing. After few moments he gently picked Y/N up in his arms.
"No one kills anyone. Rather bring Madja," he said calmly, taking his sister upstairs.
His family prepared a bedroom for her while he was gone. Placing Y/N on the bed with fresh smelling sheets, he wrapped blanket around her and holding her hand sat down next to her. He sighed heavily, watching her chest rising with shallow breaths.
Feyre silently came in and wrapped arms around his shoulders. Rhys gratefully leaned into the touch, his eyes never leaving unconscious female.
"I fucked it," he confessed quietly. "I should have been more careful.. I should have checked if there isn't anything holding her there. She was trying to say something to that bastard when I winnowed us.. I should have heard her out.. I almost got her killed." Rhys ran fingers through his dark silky hair and let out another heavy sigh.
"You couldn't have known they cast a spell on her. Thankfully you broke it in time. She will be okay," she whispered to him placing a kiss on his forehead.
"I know," he whispered back. "It's just.. For centuries I thought she was dead.. It's hard to believe she is really here.."
"Now she is back home. Safe. Once she wakes up everything will be alright."
"I hope so, but I feel like it isn't over yet. I thought that she would be happy to see me.. that she would run to me with big smile as she used to, but instead.. she looked at me as if I was a complete stranger to her. If only I knew what happened that night," he breathed out shakily, resting his head on Feyre's shoulder.
Feyre was about to say something when Azriel appeared in the middle of the room with the old healer. Rhysand stood up making a space for her and Madja immediately went to work. She carefully examined young female on the bed while Rhysand squeezing Feyre's hand and Azriel watched her, waiting for the results.
"There's no injury I could treat. She is perfectly fine," Madja said when she finished. "I believe she just needs good rest. She may be confused when she wakes up, so take it slowly and try to not overwhelm her."
There was something in her expression that made Rhysand frown with worry. "Anything else?" he asked.
"Well," Madja looked at him. "I tried to examine her head. There is kind of barrier that won't let me in. However I found traces of quite an old trauma. It has no impact on her current health, but it may be affecting her memory. Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do about it. It's too old injury that was already treated. And as for the memory, I believe this is more your field of expertise, High Lord, isn't it."
She handed him small pouch of herbs. "When she will be stressed, make her this tea," she said and left. Feyre followed her, giving him a tight smile.
Azriel stood there, gazing at sleeping female. "It's really her, isn't it," he murmured. His face was as usually emotionless, but Rhys knew him too well. He noticed a thin layer of silver in Shadowsinger's eyes. One corner of his lips lifted up in tight, but amused smirk.
"You still love her." It wasn't question, but Azriel nodded anyway.
"Never stopped," he admitted quietly. "I couldn't forget her even thought she was gone. Seeing her now.." He slowly shook head, his eyes searching her pale face. "It's like a dream. I had to pinch myself to be sure I'm awake."
"I can't believe it myself, too," Rhysand said. "But there's no doubt. She is my sister. Never forget it." He arched an eyebrow on his brother.
"How could I," Azriel snorted, corners of his lips lifted into a smile. "You've never missed a chance to remind me about it. And just as I've already told you so many times before: I'd rather die than to hurt her."
"You better to keep it in your mind. She just returned to me. I won't let her go again easily," Rhysand said half jokingly.
"Don't worry, I won't forget."
They stood there in silence, watching sleeping Y/N for the rest of the night.
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Taglist:
@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86
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