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dannyboy-writes · 5 months

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Just some

okay so this started as something and drifted but im going with it! will prob make a pt2

Meeting the love of your life in the workplace is not the best idea, especially when you have to work together after breaking up.

Especially when the work is undercover as a couple.

“Look, I don’t want this anymore than you do, so let’s just do the work and get it over with,” Natasha said, dropping her bags in the house you were assigned to.

The Jones, married couple in hopes of starting a family.

Everything you and Natasha were not.

“I’ll take the spare room, you can take the main one,” you shrugged, making your way to the room to get settled in.

You unpacked your bags and laid in the hard mattress, kicking off your shoes. Questioning yourself whether the grey shape in the ceiling was mould, or if you were in fact, losing your mind.

It looked like Elvis.

A knock on your door lured you away from the shape, and you groaned, leaning up.

“I’m going to shower,” Natasha told you. “Is that okay, or do you want to go first?”

“Uhm, you go. I’ll check if the equipment is ready for the stake out.”

She nodded and left, as you got fully off the bed, grabbing a pen and notebook and heading to the dining table, to get the inventory.

Some time later Natasha took your place with the notebook as you left for the shower.

You hummed a soft melody as you dried yourself and tied your towel loosely around your waist, putting on a shirt on your still damp torso.

“We should have bought something to eat,” you complained, looking in the empty fridge. “I’m starving.”

Natasha looked towards you, taking in your tousled hair and the droplets of water falling off it and into your shirt, which was already sticking to you, restricting your moves, but also showing off your muscles and figure.

A frown in your eyebrows and a familiar melody coming off you, as you went through the many cabinets and drawers there were. One specific strand of hair, sticking in your forehead bothered her.

A wave of your hand took her off her trance, “Natasha, I asked if you want pizza?”

She blinked twice to recompose, unsure. “Yes, I do. With peppers,” she added.

You muttered a ‘Yeah, I know, and extra cheese,’ before picking your phone up and calling a restaurant.

“So, how’s inventory going?” You asked her.

She hummed, “Rather boring…” And she moved forward to you, sticking her hand in your face, moving a loose strand of hair out of the way.

She earned an eyebrow raise and your face, stoic.

“It was bothering me, sorry.”

You chuckled. “Bothering you, huh. Spend a lot of time checking my hair lately?”

Her face turned as red as her hair, definitely not expecting that reaction. “Just some of it,” she decided.

You ate in almost deafening silence, only humming in delight, and both of you decided an early night’s sleep would be good for the tension built in the room.

You weren’t sure if it was the mattress’ rock resemblance, or Elvis gazing at you from above, or Natasha’s words, but rest did not come easy.

Shifting from one side to the other, finding no cavity in the surface. The cover was too thick, and the fan too loud and timid in its cooling function.

The window showed just enough light that you could make the outlines of the furniture in the room, and you followed carefully and almost with perfect precision each and every angle.

To your annoyance, the bedside clock glowed too much in the dark. Its led lighting the room red. A ’2:43’ burning your eyelids.

Just some of it.

And her calloused fingers tracing your forehead.

You decided it was definitely the fan’s loud whirring, and turned over, hoping to rest.

You rose with the sun the next day, shining warmly across the room, hitting your face with just a little too much light.

You could hear Natasha cleaning up in the kitchen and so you made your way there, stopping to clean your face quickly in the bathroom.

“Morning,” she told you. “There’s fresh coffee.” She pointed with her head towards the machine, and you nodded.

She had been training.

Maybe even gone for a run in town, you weren’t sure.

Her hair had been neatly tied in a braid, before it disarmed with the movement, and you could still see the waves it had formed. You could still remember the way it fell after a long day, or a mission.

“Sleep any good,” she asked you, blinking you out of your trance.

“Not really.” You poured some coffee into a mug and took a sip. “You?”

“Hm, some. The mattress could be better.”

You laughed, “You should try mine, it almost feels like the one in Bagdad.”

She laughed too. “I take it back, my mattress is alright.”

You hummed, drinking some more coffee. “Did you go for a run?”

“Oh, yeah. Town’s apparently dead at 7, it was peaceful.” She told you, “Why?”

“No nothing, your hair is– Well it looks like you ran.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Spend a lot of time looking at my hair?” She teased.

You choked on your coffee, your face heating up.

“Uhm, some of it, I guess.”

She grinned at you, her eyebrow still up high. But with a softness still.

Part II

#natasha romanoff imagine #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel imagine #black widow imagine #black widow x reader

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milf-murdock · 4 months

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I See Red (Part 2)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x 141!Reader

Read part 1 here

Summary: A tech expert lends her expertise to the 141 for a mission. It’s not her fault that she’s tall, beautiful, and perfect. But it is her fault that she can’t keep her goddamn hands to herself. How else are you supposed to react when you walk in to find her lips on your Ghost? Warnings: allusions to cheating, manhandling (I mean, there’s just so much man to handle…oh and also he throws reader over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes), angst, fluff, fluff, fluff, illusions to smut at the end but nothing specific (womp womp I knoooow) A/N: The happy ending Simon deserves after such a frightful misunderstanding. Poor bb is having such a rough day :(

Simon finds you pacing your room, footsteps leaving a veritable trail as you strut from end to end in the confined space.

One of the benefits to being a high-ranking member on an elite task force? You get your own room. It’s not much, barely enough room for a simple cot and a few tactical furniture pieces for storage, but it’s private. And right now, you’re quite thankful for the privacy, not wanting all of your business to be aired out in front of the whole squad.

“How could you, Simon?” Your hurt is palpable, and Simon’s heart constricts at the sound. He never wanted to be the reason for your pain.

“Listen, it wasn’t what it looked like,” Simon starts before you interrupt him.

“No??” You scoff. “So she wasn’t kissing you? She didn’t have your mask up? She hasn’t been flirting with you nonstop over the last two fucking weeks then?” You rattled off each allegation, your volume increasing with every accusation you spit at him.

Despite your best attempts to prevent it, you feel the tell-tale prickling sensation of tears forming in your eyes. You will them to stay put. The last thing you want is to look even more pitiful and pathetic than you already feel.

Simon’s chest aches as he sees the tears glisten in your eyes, a culmination of your hurt. He pulls his mask off over his head, hoping you can see the sincerity in his face.

“It wasn’t like that,” he tries to explain. “She kissed me. I would never do that you, sweetheart.”

“So I’m supposed to believe that you don’t care about gorgeous, voluptuous women with beautiful red hair who fawn over your every move?” Your gaze hardens as you hurl the accusation at his feet.

Simon is at a loss or words. He hadn’t given Bex a second thought once she showed up. Hadn’t thought anything more than that she must be good at her job for Price to have brought her on board.

The sea of confusion threatens to overwhelm Simon as he struggles to keep his head above water. Throw him on a high stakes mission anytime—hell, throw him directly into enemy combat over this. His head is spinning. How did all of this happen? First, the kiss from hell that came out of nowhere, then this wave of jealousy from you. Simon makes the connection as soon as the thoughts flow through his mind. This has to have been the root of your foul mood over the last two weeks, the reason behind your snarky comments and bitter conversations.

Misinterpreting his stunned silence, you let out a bitter laugh. “I thought so. You know what? Fuck this. I don’t need this. Just…” you inhale sharply. “Just go back to her.”

A lead weight drops into Simon’s stomach. “No.” The word is barely more than a whisper. He feels like the floor is being yanked out from under him. His world is spinning. No. He thinks to himself. Not you. He can’t lose you.

He closes the space between you in two strides, hands curling around your wrists in desperation, eyes pleading. “Listen. To. Me.” His staccato words are accentuated with his firm, but gentle, grip. “Please.”

You avoid his eyes, knowing those deep chocolate orbs would have you folding in an instant.

“No,” you spit out. “I don’t want to hear it.”

You tug yourself free from his grasp and turn to the door, ripping it open and stepping into the cold air.

Like hell was Ghost going to let you walk away from this.

You make it all of five steps from the door in the time it takes Ghost to come to his senses and high tail it after you. Without another thought, he reaches forward and grabs both your legs right out from under you, hoisting you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

“Ghost!” You shriek, unable to hold back your shock. A laugh bubbles up from inside you at the pure absurdity of the movement. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Making you fucking listen for once in your life,” Ghost grunts as he hauls you back into the room, tossing you onto your bed.

The mattress sinks beneath his weight as he sits next to you, his face taking on a serious expression. He reaches for your hands, his own mammoth hands swallowing yours whole. The motion sobers you, all humor from the previous moments erased.

“Ya know I’m not one for speeches, but I’ve got something important to say. And you’re going to bloody listen, got it?”

He takes your silence as approval to keep going.

“I swear to you, I didn’t kiss her, alright? She pulled up my mask and kissed me before I could even register what was happening. You have to believe me—I would never do that to you. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you like that.” He swallows hard as it dawns on him just how close he came to that being his reality. He fears he almost lost you for good.

“And to answer your question from earlier, no. I’ve never thought of her like that. Not once. I haven’t thought of anyone else like that. Not since I first saw you all those years ago. You remember?”

You shake your head. “Of course not, Simon. It was like three years ago.”

“Not to me. To me, it feels like it was yesterday. When I saw you hop off that helo, I knew I was done in. Fucking hell, I said. From the moment I saw your face, I was a goner.”

His hands drop your own as he reaches up to cup your face. You say nothing, but you don’t pull away from him either. And for Ghost, that’s enough.

“You mean everything to me. Everything. I trust you with my life on the battle field. I trust you with my innermost thoughts and feelings in here, when it’s just you and me. Can’t you trust me in the same way?”

A feeling of shame washes over you and you lower your gaze. The realization dawns on you, you hadn’t even given him a chance to explain. Remorse pools in your gut.

“How could I possibly be thinking of another woman, when I spent every waking minute of my day thinking about you, thinking about us, thinking about our future together?”

At that, your eyes glance up to meet his. “A future?”

The corner of Simon’s mouth tugs upwards in a coy smile. “Well, yeah. If that’s the kind of thing you want.”

You sigh deeply, feeling every last ounce of fight drain from your body.

“I’m so sorry, Si,” you whisper in the space between your bodies. “I should have given you a chance to explain.”

Simon doesn’t have words to explain the relief that floods his body as you lean forward, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and hold you close to him.

“S’okay,” he mutters. “If I had walked in on some bloke kissing you, I’d be snapping his neck before asking a single question from you.”

At that, you chuckle against his broad chest. “Well, that makes me feel better about my reaction then.” You pull back only slightly to offer him a soft smile. “I really am sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Simon presses his lips to your temple and savors the moment before adding, “Besides, I like seeing your jealous side. It’s kinda hot.”

“Oh yeah?” You tease, sitting up and popping one leg over Simon’s lap to straddle him. “How hot?”

“Fucking hell woman,” Simon groans with a playful roll of his eyes. “You’ll be the fucking death of me.”

“S’that so?” You shamelessly plant open mouthed kisses along his chiseled jaw, down his exposed throat. With fluid, practiced movements, you slide off the bed and come to your knees in front of him. “Least you’ll die a happy man,” you smirk before unbuttoning his trousers and showing Simon just how well and truly sorry you are.

Epilogue(ish):

Bex is on the first flight out the next day. The laptop was decrypted and the short-term mission accomplished, so there’s really no reason for her to stay any longer. And, of course, there’s the lingering threat of potentially losing some beloved limbs at the hands of one furious Ghost. On top of that, Bex isn’t entirely positive that you won’t come seek your own type of revenge for touching what clearly, definitively belongs to you. And she quite likes the idea of staying alive.

Masterlist ✧ Ask Box

Requested tags for Part 2: @infpt-zylith @nobilitando @lazystorycollector @141trash @thychuvaluswife @bakugohoex@kiryoutann @persephone-kore-law @whos-fran

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley imagine #cod ghost #cod simon ghost riley #cod simon riley

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fl3shm4id3n · 8 months

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ₜₕₑ ₗₒᵥₑᵣₛ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐰𝐧. 𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: (ᴘᴀꜱᴛ) ᴀꜱᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴀꜱᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴛᴀᴠ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: Star-crossed lovers concept, Cazador, vampirism, medieval sexism, abuse of any kind, manipulation , blood, torture, torment, violence, suicide attempt/mentioned, mentions of intimacy, death, murder, stake to the heart, angst, reincarnation. Not edited, pictures ain't mine, I got them off Pinterest.

Masterlist

Your whole life changed when your parents had sent you off to marry some Lord known as Cazador. He had been in search for a concubine. It was pretty normal for noble men to have a concubine. He could have as many as he could afford. Your parents were thrilled by the idea of you, their only daughter being with a powerful Lord. As much as you didn't to, you had to. It was your duty as their child to follow their orders. Whatever they say, goes. It was settled then, you were going to become Lord Cazador's concubine for as long as he lives. That day that you left your home, was the same day you never saw your parents again. His castle was strange, his servants were strange. They were like puppets that only followed their master's word.

The first couple months weren't so bad. Cazador was respectful, and he had given you time to adjust to your new life. He had began to spoil you, giving you things that you'd never thought you've ever see in your eyes. From the finest tailored dresses, to jewelry, makeup, books, and so on. You were basically given the life that many girls would dream off. Despite all that, it still felt strange, as if something was wrong, but you didn't put to much mind into it. You passed it as if you were home sick. As much as you tried to ignore it, the worry got bigger, as if it was a weight on your shoulders getting much heavier and heavier throughout the weeks. One night Cazador had decided to make you his. You felt nervous since you've never been with a man in your life. But that night, would be the one you'd remember for the rest of your immortal life.

Its already been years, those years became centuries. You were still Cazador's concubine. Everyday you'd wake up and just have the though of what Cazador would have planned that night. It was a routine that just kept on going. You'd wake up, and have the maid spawns come dress you. You no longer had a choice on what you could wear. It was all Cazador, he'd pick everything about your look for the night, from dresses, shoes, makeup art, hair style, jewelry and hair. Everything was either a blood red or black. His favorite colors. If you refused to wear what he'd pick out for you, then you'd wear nothing. You'd remain bare until you've learn to appreciate what he does for you. That was a way to manipulate you, he made you think that he did so much for you and the least you could do is learn to be more appreciative of what he has given you.

Its been a while since you've seen your reflection. You've almost forgot how you'd look like. Sometimes you'd spend hours and hours looking in the mirror, trying to form on how you'd look like before, but nothing. You'd just see the furniture in your room along with other things in the room. As some kind of gift, Cazador had commissioned a painting of you, he's often tell how generous he was and how he didn't have to do this. You were dressed like the night that you had been turned into a vampire spawn. Sitting still as the artist painted your every detail. You'd look at that picture as if it was the only thing keeping you alive. That painting made you remember on how your face might have looked like. But there was one thing that you didn't like, and that was the scar on your left side of your neck. It was a scar, caused by Cazador's bite of that night. It may have been a small detail, but it was noticeable. It was also some kind of reminder of what he had done to you. Everything you'd see that small bit of the painting, you'd feel a sharp pain on your neck, right on your now scarred side. Sometimes you wish you could cover it, but due to the dresses you wore, you weren't able to.

Whenever you'd disagree with Cazador on something, he'd threated to burn the picture and to never get you a new one. You'd often cry and beg on your knees for him not to do it, also to forgive you for speaking out of term. He seemed to love making you cry, he'd watch how the makeup would roll down your cheeks, messing it up and how you were on your knees with your head on the floor, begging or how'd you'd hug his knees and cry in desperation. It was some kind of sickening pleasure of his. He also love to torment you to the point that you have a breakdown. It would happen constantly, you'd never catch a break.

Not only that, but you were force to learn how to play instruments. As a way to entertain yourself and Cazador. When it came to string instruments, he'd have you play for hours and hours until your hands sore. If you'd mess up a note, you were force to restart and play the instrument until the tips of your fingers bled, even your nails would break and dig into your already cut and bleeding skin. When you were done, your hands would be shaking and raw, with blood running down your hands and fingers. You also liked to embroid, or at least he liked how you'd embroid. If he didn't like the work, he'd have you start all over again, or he'd make you sew until you hands were weak. He just loved seen you in pain. He loved watching you tear up as you sewed and played instruments, in pain. As a way to 'heal' you, Cazador would lick and bite at your bleeding fingers, to add to the pain.

Some nights you wished you could just walked into the sun, but that was impossible. Most of the night you'd be in your room. For hours, only coming out when Cazador would want you to, he'd basically keep you locked in. You barely spook to the spawns at times. Sometimes you'd write down notes and slide them under the door for the spawns to see. This was a form of punishment, even though you didn't do anything to get punished. Not just that but the only way for you to have blood was by begging for him to allow you to feed, he'd leave you starving for days until you were fed up and needed a doze of blood. But he'd have you drink the blood from his mouth, as much as you didn't want to, you did. You had the choice to just stop feeding and either go insane and violent. But you knew he wasn't going to allow you to do that. If you attempted to, it'd become worse.

One night things were different, Cazador had been gone for a while. You assumed he was probably looking for another mortal to fall for his trap and make him another spawn. That night you were in your room again, looking at the empty mirror as if you were trying to find yourself again, but you knew that was useless. Then Cazador bursted in the room. Causing you to flinch an grip onto your clasped hands much harder, digging your nails into your skin, fearing that he might due something to you, again. Then he introduced you to his new spawn. A man. He was in his late thirties, with brown hair, pale complexation, green eyes and his clothes were dirty, as if he was covered in dirt. You noticed that his right side of his neck had wound, a bite. That was already scaring. The other spawns didn't have those markings. Except for you and now him. You learned that his name was Astarion.

Once you were introduced, he made his new spawn get on his knees and kiss the toe of your shoe. This was something he'd have his spawns do, just to see them on their knees, humiliating themselves, by kissing the toes of your shoes. You'd often say that you were his one and only high raking 'Spawn Concubine'. As much as you didn't want him to go through that humiliation, he did so anyways. He already seemed scared of Cazador and what he'd do if he didn't do what he wanted. As he began to get up from his knees, you and him locked eyes. You could see the fear in each other's eyes, as if it was reflecting. You were both scared of him. And he knew it. Not only that, but he loved to see the fear that you both had.

That same night in your room, you could hear the screaming happening in the cellar and the smell of blood. You could hear how Cazador was already 'branding' his knew spawn, just like the others. You didn't get branded like they did, he'd explained to you that you're above the spawns and there for you shouldn't be branded, besides. He had already branded you. It was a reminder on your neck. For the attire night you could hear the screams echoing through the castle, as much as you wanted to not hear it, you weren't able to muffle out the noises. You felt horrible not being able to stop Cazador's torture. Last time you attempted to, was bad.

Then Cazador had come up with a great idea, his new pet, would now be in charge of going out and bringing back a prey for him and you feed on. He believed that Astarion had the perfect face to lure in any person he got his eyes on. Astarion tried to refuse and disobey, as a punishment, he locked him up in a cellar for over a whole year. With no light what so ever. You had tried and asking Cazador to please let him out, but he refused to listen. You were his concubine, not his wife. He never made you his wife, because he knew that if he did, he'd have to treat you as his equal. So he never married you, he only kept you as his concubine, as his possession for his pleasures. Finally, Astarion had been out of the cell, except his appearance changed. His once brown hair was now white and his once green eyes were now a blood red. That whole year in the cellar had changed him. Since then on, he began to obey his master.

So he began to bring back a prey, either a man or a woman. Cazador would be pleased with this, and would 'reward' him by giving him a rat to feed of. If Astarion refused to eat the rat, then he'd be killed by the other brainless spawns. You and Cazador would feed from the victim, together. He'd go for the neck and you'd go for the wrists, you were never allowed to go for the neck, if you did. Then you'd be punished severely. He'd just add that you should be greatful that you're allowed to feed. Some victims he'd keep as his spawns and others he'd kill just for his fun. This went on for a couple of years.

During those years, you had actually grown close to Astarion. You knew he only did what he did for survival, like you. You normally wouldn't ask Cazador for anything, but you had asked him if Astarion could he your personal servant, when he isn't out getting a prey. He found it odd, but allowed it. He saw no harm in that. So you had Astarion be with you for most of the evening and nights he wasn't out. He was shy at first, he thought that you too were like Cazador, due to his master's concubine and because you had a much higher rank. Except you were different. You too were a victim, except you weren't treated as a spawn, but a possession.

Him and you did a lot of things that you'd normally do on a daily. When you'd practice playing an instrument, Astarion would watch and listen to you. He too began to learn to play when you had offered to teach him. Same with reading, you'd read him books that Cazador had given you throughout the centuries. This was something new to Astarion, ever since he was brought by Cazador, he'd be constantly tormented by him. Until you had stepped in and asked for him to be with you at all times. When he wasn't out. Not only that, but you were kind to him, at first he thought you were the same as his master, but no. You were way different than the man you both feared.

Astarion loved to spend his time with you, it gave him some reason to not give up. Your kindness was keeping him alive in a way. At times when you weren't together, he'd be staring at the painting of you, hanged in the middle of the stairs of the castle. The way that you were painted was angelic like, you looked like a Queen. But he also noticed the same scar on your neck. Of course he knew that it was Cazador's doing. Besides that, you were just so beautiful. He almost couldn't believe that you were kind to him. Every time he'd be back from getting a prey, he always looked forward into being with you for a couple of days.

You were surprised Cazador had allowed this in the first place. Because you were often kept isolated front he other spawns and weren't really allowed to form any kind of friendship with them. That's the biggest reason why you'd be locked up in your room and barely able to speak with them. But Astarion seemed to be the only one you were allowed to speak to, for a while before he becomes a brainless spawns like the others. You hoped that it didn't lead to that. You really liked your new friend, it was as if you and him had formed a bond. A friendly one at that, but you felt more towards the now white haired male. It felt wrong in a way, but at the same time.

That evening was a nice one, you were doing your needle work with Astarion. Working on a black shirt that belonged to Cazador. You were sewing with a gold colored threat. Making flowers. That night Astarion didn't have to go to get prey. It was a nice and quiet, and no Cazador lurking by, since he had to take care of some 'business'. You were used to him disappearing out of nowhere with the excuse of being busy. You were to focused on the peacock you were working on while Astarion tried to follow your lead. You began to teach him how to embroider since he had asked and he was curious on your handy work. He had seen your work, specially on his Master's clothing.

Astarion was focused on the cloth in the hoop, trying to match the flower that you were making. Then he pinched his finger with the needle. Hissing in pain and dropping the hoop. You stopped what you were doing, looking over to him. You placed the shirt down and moved over towards Astarion. "Let me see." You said, then you took his bleeding finger into your hands too look at it. "I'm fine my lady." He said, respectfully. Watching you care for his pricked finger. You then leaned down and gave his injured finger a kiss. He felt his face heat up, by this gesture. You've done this so many times, and yet it feels like the first time. You didn't seem to mind getting blood on your perfectly red painted lips. You looked over at him and smiled. "Better?" you asked him, seen the flush look on his face, he nodded almost shyly like the first time you met.

You both locked eyes. Remaining frozen as you both looked at one another. You didn't even realize how you and him began to lean into one another. Slowly closing your eyes, then you both kissed. Your cold lips molding into one another's, softly. You've never been kissed this nice and sweet before. Cazador was rough and impressment. But Astarion? He was slow and passionate. You placed your hands on his shoulders, as a way to hold onto each other. He then snaked his hand at the back of your head, carefully holding your head up. Not wanting to mess up your perfectly combed hair with many hair pens and other flowers adorned to it.

The kiss was short, you pulled away and looked at him. He did the same. You didn't have to exchange words, it was clear that you and him loved that kiss. And you wanted to kiss him again. So you did, you kissed him again, a bit more eager this time. He followed your lead. You both completely forgot about what you were doing before. Now you were focused on this. You laid your body on the soft cushion of the couch. Pulling Astation on top of you. He didn't hesitate to get on top of you. He placed himself between your legs. As he continued to kiss you, more deeply. Then you ran your hand up his white shirt, feeling his cold skin against your cold fingers. Slightly touching his scarred back. Asatrion was too caught up in the moment to care, he took began to slide his hand up your skirt. Feeling your soft and delicate skin. He then pulled away and look at you.

You had a look of concern. "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?" you asked nervously. "No, it's just. I don't want to take advantage of you. I wouldn't want to do something that might hurt you." He explained, you knew what he said was true. You placed your hands on both sides of his cheeks. "It's okay, I want this to happen. But if you don't, then I understand." You responded, with a small smile, as a way to comfort him. "I do too, but before we go any further. Please tell me that I have your consent. I wouldn't want you to be hurt... like he has hurt you..." he said worriedly. It was no secret that Cazador always got what he wanted no matter what. You understood why he'd ask for your consent. "You have my consent, but I have yours?" You asked him, it was only fair that you'd asked for his since he asked for yours. Astarion gave you a genuine smile. "Yes, you have my consent." He responded. Then you and him went back into kissing on another. You were too focused on one another that you didn't even noticed that you were actually being watched.

It's been a while since that happened. You'd think about that night a lot. You've never been intimate with anyone, besides Cazador. But this was a new form of intimacy, Astarion actually cared about what you wanted. Unlike his Master who didn't care about anyone but himself. You felt shivered running up your spine, just thinking about Astarion's hands touching your cold skin again. As much as you wanted to do it again, you didn't want to get caught but Cazador and have Asatrion be punished. If anything, you'd be the one to take the punishment instead of him.

Then the doors of your quarters were open, it was Cazador, he looked much calm, very calm. It was almost concerning. "My dear, may I have a word with you?" He asked, you felt a lump build up in your throat and you got nervous. "Yes, what is it?" You asked him, trying to remain calm as possible. "I've heard something from one of the Spawns. That you and Astarion engaged in something, that didn't involve, embroidery." This made your non beating heart sink, now he knew. "Just say yes or no. No need for an explanation. Just yes or no will be fine." He explained to you. There was no hiding it, he knew and you know what happens when you lie to him.

Taking a deep breath, you answered. "Yes, we did, what you think we did." You responded. Cazador only nodded, then he walked closer to you, taking your hands and brought you up from the bed. He looked at your eyes for a moment, then he leaned in for a kiss. That was odd, he was calm? You thought, as he continued to kiss you. Then he pulled away, placing his hand on your cold cheek affectionately. You only stared at him, confused. "How I'm going to miss those eyes." He said, only making you even more confused. Then your eyes widen and tears developed in your eyes. A strong pain grew in your chest.

Looking down, you saw a wooden stake, piercing through the red decorated fabric of the gown. Blood already pooling on your chest. You looked back at Cazador who had a look of displeasure, with the stake in his hand. He pushed it further and pushed you down, making you whimper. Then you fell to your right side, you were having a hard time breathing in pain. You touched the now bloodied stake. Attempting to pull it out, but it was no use, you'll be dead in a bit. Your hands were shaking aggressively. Laying on your back, in pain and tears pooling in your eyes. As you tried to keep your eyes open, it was no use. You were growing weaker by the minute, the last thing you saw was Cazador watching you die as someone had come in to the courters.

As soon as Astarionn saw you on the floor, bloodied. He couldn't help but feel a wave of shock grow in his eyes. He covered in mouth in disbelief. Seen your now deceased corpse on the floor. With a stake to your heart and blood on your beautiful gown. He didn't hesitate going over and pulling you towards him. "No no, my lady." He whimpered, trying to see any sign of life, but nothing. You were gone, forever. "Be grateful that it wasn't you. I wouldn't want to loose you too soon now." Cazador taunted at him. Astation was more focused on you. He felt all sorts of emotions going on in his mind. All he could do is hug you close to him, holding your head near his lips. Trying to process what was happening. He had accidently touched the blood that was pooled on your gown and accidently smeared it on your left side of your face. He couldn't believe what was happening.

He stayed frozen with your body in his arm. Mumbling that he was sorry many times. Wishing that you'd wake up at any moment now. But now, you remained limp, not moving one inch. You were gone, the love of his life, was gone. He was forced by Cazador to let go of your body, he didn't want to. He too wanted to get flayed just to be with you again, but he knew that his master will not allow it. Your body had been burned, along with most of your belongings and such. As a way to erase you for good. Despite burning everything that you owned, that was not going have Astarion forget about you.

Two centuries had already passed and Astarion had still not forgot about you. You were in his mind for ages, he still remembered your face, smell, voice, everything. He was not going to allow your memory of you to be forgotten. The painting of you had been moved into Cazador's quarters since he had decided to keep it as his biggest trophy. Astarion had got a few glimpses of the painting when entering the room, he hated the fact that he painting was moved. But one night, he got a small sheet of paper and pain, drawing only your face on the painting. He did a decent job drawing your features, they weren't the best, but he did what he could. He also left out the scar on the left side of your neck, knowing that you didn't like that scar. He kept the picture with him at all times. He would spend hours and hours looking at it. He'd tear up almost all the time, allowing his tears to land on the soft vanilla colored paper. Often wishing that it was him who got staked instead of you. You didn't deserve to die so coldly by HIM.

Then he got captured by the mindflayers and things headed towards another direction. He was taken far from Baldur's Gate, with a tadpole inserted in his brain and now he had to find a way to get rid of it. Just great, that's exactly what he just needed. Then he came across a party of people. Maybe he could join them and help them get back to Baldur's Gate, as well as whatever needed to get done. Perhaps he could use his charm for his advantage. It was an easy plan, but then, he set his eyes on their leader. He couldn't believe it, was it possible You had the face of someone he knew, someone he loved many centuries ago. Perhaps, you may remember him in a way? Or did your new life had made you forget about him? Whatever it was, he wanted to be with you in your new life, maybe he could protect you better or even start an actual relationship with you, but will he fall for you or the person that you once were?

ₙₑₓₜ ₚₐᵣₜ

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acotarxreader · 1 month

Text

Shadow and Flame pt 4

Azriel X Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions but no description of torture, mentions of burns, punchable High Lords

A/N: Okay Part 4, added action and suspense with higher stakes hehe Please let me know what you think, your words are so encouraging. Also as an aside Lúdás is an Irish word for traitor, a little trivia in there for you, without the fadas for ease of your own pronunciation.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

*********

Drip, drip, drip.

You rolled the back of your head along the damp brick, trying to release tension from your shoulders, knees cuddled into your chest for some ounce of warmth. Your hollowed eyes resembled the deep chasms beneath the Autumn Court where your cell rotted and shuddered. The soaking air leeching any semblance of inferno from you.

Drip, drip, drip.

You groaned at the sounds of your Father's guards passing through the jail corridors, throwing a glance towards you as they marked your presence. Three months of the same routine. Three months since your father rebroke your bones and shattered your soul but Azriel was safe, Velaris was safe. A consolation prize. You had stopped crying soon after being locked down there, mourning a life for a moment you thought you could have.

Drip, drip, drip.

*********

“At what point do we just get a big net and steal him away in the night?”

“It's not funny Cass” Feyre reprimanded the Illyrian, the Inner Circle gathered for a family dinner in The House Of Wind, Azriel notably absent. Plates piled high with food went untouched as you were once again the topic of conversation.

“Well it's gone beyond sulking, he's locked up in his room, staring at a candle he won't let anyone blow out, he's frightening the staff'' Amren glanced towards the staircase leading in the direction of Azriels chambers.

Elain lurched forward suddenly, the table turning to her in confusion.

“Something is- something is wrong with Lucien” the table looked frantic between one another. No one had seen Lucien since Azriel had all but banished him from the circle. Cassian flew from the chair up the stairs, crashing into Azriels chambers to find it empty.

“Azriels gone!” Panic grew in all of them. Had he gone back for more? The table dispersed in chaos, darting in different directions to where they believed they'd find the two.

*****

“Azriel, this is becoming very much too Illyrian for me” Lucien stood suppressing his shaking legs, blood running from his face.

“No such thing” Azriels eyes were wild, scorch marks scratching his leathers. The two stood warrior stance ready, books, papers, and furniture askew across the scope of Lucien's office in Velaris. Azriel had had enough, enough waiting, enough wondering, enough hurting. He believed you ran from him that night three months ago and he had become determined to find you again, to beg for clarity. Lucien had the information he needed, he was able to get to you before and he would help Azriel get you now, even if Illyrian persuasion was needed.

“I will not tell you about YN, I do not know the answers to your questions” Not all untrue for the Prince of Foxes. He had begged his father for leniency towards you, offered himself for replacement but it was no good, he was iced out by his family's court once again. Lucien couldn't tell him any of that, he didn't want Azriel chasing Autumn's Daughter enraging their father further

“You lie!”

“I do not! And I do not understand this infatuation-”

“Infatuation! That's what YN said I had that day in the woods, that came from you! Now tell me your meeting place!” Azriel threw his shadows to slam into Lucien, knocking him for a moment off balance. That's all Azriel needed, he sprung for the Emissary, pinning him to the bookcase of his study, sending more books crashing. Truth Teller now in hand, Lucien allowed panic to show in his eyes as Azriels raged in storms and clouded pain.

“I-will-not-tell-you-where-my-sister-is” Lucien choked out, face rapidly losing colour. Sister. Sister. Sister. The word crashed over Azriel, he released the pressure stepping back. Lucien caught his throat and massaged his crushed windpipe. Shit he thought, blaming the temporary cut-off of oxygen on his admission.

“Azriel!” Rhysand winnowed into the chaotic scene with Cassian by his side. Azriel stood, pale face, processing.

“You lie again Emissary” he seethed

“I do not, she is the Autumn Court's daughter, my…our father's pride and joy. She is…she is his to use” he slumped slightly, the nature of the Court of Autumn's conduct always a source of disgrace for him. Azriel pushed his mind from having an existential crisis, his whole purpose for existing was to know everything about everyone and you had fully slipped through the cracks, what else had he missed in work?

“Oh my Gods, Az you fucked Lucien's sister” Cassian broke the silence in a very Cassian way, Rhysand hitting him in the chest.

“You. What?” Lucien bit out, flames came to his side once more, cocking his head in challenge.

“I-” Lucien leapt forward tackling the conflicted Shadowsinger, sending him sailing to the ground as they rolled in hand-to-hand combat. Cassian caught Rhysands arm, pulling him back from intervening with a “let them at it” facial expression.

“FIRST YOU COME FOR MY MATE! THEN YOU COME FOR MY SISTER! IS NOTHING SACRED TO YOU HEATHENS!” Lucien blared as Azriel rolled, using his wings for the upper hand, rolling until he was on top of Lucien.

“YOUR FUCKING SISTER IS MY MATE” Azriel had Lucien pinned by the arms to the floor as he roared, the air almost sucked from the room at the silence that followed. Azriel let Lucien's arms go with a thud before standing again, dusting the soot off his leathers. Lucien pushed up off the floor, wiping a forearm along his bloody lip.

“Az” Rhysand tried softly as Azriel strode over to look out the window of the study, down on the winding streets of his beloved city. He raised his hand without facing the three, needing a moment of reprieve.

Lucien looked at Azriels two lost Illyrian brothers before moving cautiously behind the Shadowsinger, laying the most gentle of hands on one of his shoulders, soft heat radiating through.

“Azri- Az we will get my sis- your Mate back” Azriels wings slumped slightly at his frenemy's words.

A maroon envelope burst into the room to land on Luciens desk, the four looking conflicted towards it.

***************

“Stand” the darkened figures' chilling voice carried through the dimly lit passageway and across the cell bars. You released a breath from your long broken soul before standing on weakened wobbly legs, the weighted shackles tethering your wrists grinding against your movement. Rings of water encased in the shackles for good measure.

“Arm” was grunted at you as the cell door unlocked itself allowing the males to step in.

“Ludas, we went to training camp together. Can you at least look at me when you order me around?” you raised your eyebrow to the tall male figure in front of you. The back of his hand sliced into your face with centuries of training and force, sending you crashing to the floor swearing as you slammed into it.

“Do not speak out of turn”

“Oh I am so telling your mother when I get out of here” you scoffed, spitting the blood in your mouth at his shoes and pushing back off the rocky wet ground, the male slightly tensing at your words.

“Get it over with, whatever lashings you have” you threw out your arm and closed your eyes waiting for the whip that didn't come. Only a weight release from your wrist. Your eyelids shot open to find your shackles smashing to the floor, metal bracelets filled with water replacing them. Before you could question, a hood was thrown over your head, and a weight shot into your stomach as you sailed over Ludas’ shoulder.

You landed with a thud on a cold solid floor, the sound of flame whispering sorrows for you. The hood was snatched, blinding sunlight sent your head screaming as you tried to adjust after three months below the Court.

Your focusing eyes landed on Eris' face, who looked as though he'd seen a ghost and in some way that's what you were. Your copper eyes greying, mud and moss coating your hair, shirt and trousers torn to shreds from the beatings and rats you fought off nightly. A long call from the copper princess he saw you as the last time he saw you. Another deserter you thought to yourself.

“Stand and smile Daughter-” your screaming eyes shot to the male sitting on the throne of your people.

“-it's the eve of your wedding day after all” vertigo. You felt vertigo. Your eyes spinning in your skull, unable to summon any ounce of strength until darkness met you once more.

******

Lucien walked slowly towards the envelope as if it could strike him at any moment. The three watched, Azriel’s stomach beginning to do turns on itself. The headed paper slipped from its casing, the Autumn Court emblem proudly on display. Lucien's sorrowful gaze read down the sheet as if it were his very own life sentence but it was yours. The paper fell from his shaking hands to the floor beneath him as he turned and vomited into the filing cabinet adjacent. A wedding invitation addressed to the Night Court members.

**********

You woke up to the warmth of fire, fire not belonging to you, unsettling you instantly. You sat up in the brick red sheets, ignoring the whirlpool headache growing in you. You felt different, you felt clean. You looked down to see deep forest green silk covering you, your hand shooting to your now soft and shiny hair. Your trembling legs brought you to the mirror in the room you didn't recognise. You had returned to your beauty as if the past few months never happened. But there in the mirror, you saw the staunch reminder that it very much did, the metal and water bracelets swirling around your wrist like the bonds they were, tethering you without chains. Your hand found a small scar along your lip where Ludas had marked you, it still trying to stitch together under your weakened powers.

Your eyes frantically searched the room for the door out, with none to be found, you had been winnowed into this new plush cell. You felt yourself roar. Roar and roar and roar.

“YN! You'll wake the hounds!” You whipped around to your father's voice, how long had he been there? He looked so put together, so reserved, nowhere near the man who roasted your skin on flames of rage three months previous.

“Leave me go, I've done my time, I-”

“Now does that sound very like me?” Beron laughed sickly, sitting himself down on the sofa, arms spread along the back, the picture of ease, his wild flame daughter tamed. He looked at you like you were his pawn to play and you had never felt so much so.

“The Shadowsinger was an interesting side quest for you wasn't it?”

“Stop” he laughed at your attempt at defiance, you couldn't hear him speak of Azriel, he'd shatter you all over again.

“Tomorrow you will marry the General of the Vallahan Legion-”

“-I will do no such thing!” You snapped, your father standing back to his feet.

“This back-chatting is getting out of hand, where's my malleable piece of copper gone?”

“You killed her” you said so eerily calm, unwavering steeliness growing in you.

“Well I suggest she resurrects herself ahead of her nuptials” ice dripping from his voice as his searing touch caught your wrist pulling you in.

“Vallahan will be powerful allies and I have graves picked out for you and your brother's precious night court. You will behave. You will do as I say or you will join them in the dirt”

“I will go to my grave regardless if you make me marry him”

“That can be arranged once you've signed the dotted line for all I care” and you believed him. He didn't care once his pawn had moved into place who took her out. He stood again, easing over in your direction, his flames leaping to life, willing to ignite chaos at their master’s will.

“I hope you’ll cheer up dear, you’ll make your guests so very sad seeing a weeping bride, although not that they’ll be smiling for long” you went cold at his tone, what does that mean you screamed inside your head and he laughed as if he could hear you.

“Well now YN, you know very well that I enjoy killing two birds with one stone”

“What are you planning?”

“Oh please don’t say it with such hatred. I’m giving you a wedding present, one last look at your beloved Shadowsinger” your eyes went wild at his words, you moved to lunge for him in pure unadulterated anger but his flames wrapped around you pulling you to the ground without burning you.

“Sleep well my piece of copper, big day for you tomorrow, I'm so proud” he caught your chin so roughly, eyes piercing through you, releasing your face with a jolt and dissolving into flame.

******

Part 5

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austinbutlerslovers · 3 months

Note

Can we get a teaser of the feyd fic

It is almost complete, minor details are subject to change. Here is the scene mentioned in the summary:

Feyd Fantasy Part II <Excerpt>

The Barons Favorite

The Baron speaks with his advisors in the morning about the upcoming gladiatorial fights around the massive table in the meeting hall. When the assembly concludes he uses his hover suit to bring the men of court to watch Feyd in combat training.

Part Two Complete✍🏼

He is proud of the accomplishments of his nephew Feyd, he is the Barons favorite over his older brother Glossu Rabban Harkonnen.

After making several public embarrassments to the family name the Baron had Feyds brother Rabban shipped to Arrakis. He gives him one last chance to prove his worth controlling their families most lucrative venture, harvesting spice.

Though ominous and foreboding the Baron is an obesely over weight man. He can no longer walk without the assistance of integrated technology to reduce the burden of his weight. His hover suit is implanted into his spine with thick tubes connected on two small orbs. The orbs float behind him carrying the chemicals which enable him to defy gravity.

They arrive to the second story of the courtyard in Feyds quarters. When the men gather looking down into the training pit on the first floor it is deserted. A low murmur begins between his advisors as to the where abouts of Feyd. Always eager to show off his knife skills Feyds absence is jarring.

The Baron immediately hovers to Feyds chambers and finds them empty as well. Feyds male Page appears at the entrance hearing the commotion.

“Well where is he?” The Baron snaps “You are to be at his side at all times have you forgotten your purpose”The Baron is fuming at the Pages insolence.

The Page trembles knowing the truth and averts his eyes from the Barons sinister Gaze “Spit it out or I cut it out” the Baron says coldly. He hovers into the young man’s personal space. The Page knows both men will readily slit his throat.

He divulges enough not to be dispatched by either “He and his lady are in the great halls of the fortress. I’m not sure where but he wanted to show her the grandeur of Geidi Prime” the Baron squints in anger how idiotic at a time like this with so much at stake to impress his new bride. His scowl deepens because Feyd above all neglected his training. For that he will be heavily punished.

The Great Meeting Hall

After touring your fifth great hall with Feyd it is readily apparent his family has amassed a great fortune with power and control over the populous of Geidi Prime.

He pushes open the large black inscribed doors of the meeting hall. There are thrones at opposite ends raised on platforms with stairs. The high floor to ceiling windows display the industrial city scape and a grand table that can seat fifty people occupies the majority of the floor space. Everything is void of color, only stone marble, black and granite can be seen in the gigantic area.

You walk over to the throne on your left “is this one yours?” Your voice echos in the large hall. Feyd nods, his hands are clasped behind his back. He follows you around the room as you study the furniture and the giant painting of his uncle and then of himself. There is a portait of a third Harkonnen male next to Feyds but he interrupts your thoughts before you can ask the identity.

“This is where the most important decisions are made on Geidi Prime, as well as another secret room with the cones of silence” he adds.

“What are cones of silence? “ you ask. The words are somewhat familiar to you.

“They are able to mute all sounds around them, only the two inside can hear each other.” He answers as he imagines himself fucking you inside of one until he makes you scream in pleasure as loud as he possibly can. He stops walking and stands behind you.

You've paused to study something that caught your eye. His eyes wander your form up to the beauty of your side profile. He can’t help himself as his hand trails down your shoulder. “Do these things in impress you?” He asks. You finally look over your shoulder at him.

You had been mesmerized studying an ancient Harkonnen sword on display. It is carved with hieroglyphs that date back centuries. It represents how his entire culture revolves around war and greed . “Yes ” you say addressing his question to be kind. You turn back to looking at the sword again. Inside you are deeply longing for your home world.

You remember the beautiful gardens, waterfalls, flowers, and colors of life. You especially miss the large atrium where you would read for hours basking in the afternoon sunlight. The warm rays would kiss your skin as it filtered through the glass dome.

Laying on a spacious out door ottoman with your fellow Bene Gesserit sisters honing your skills in the palatial gardens seemed like a dream now.

Feyd sees you lost deep in thought and softly grabs your chin “What would impress you more” he asks with intent. He knows you aren’t fond of the ways on Geidi Prime. You don’t have an answer so you remain quiet.

He knows one thing he has that impresses you on end. He gently pulls you into a kiss. His bottom lip rubs softly with yours as his warm tongue fills your mouth.

He ignites your passions and you place your hands on his jaw. You lean your head with his as you kiss him in return. You want to focus on the carnal and forget your distant memories. He presses himself against you and the heat of his body claims you.

He turns you walking back as he kisses your lips until you are met against the grand meeting hall table. He sits on the edge and moves to the center. He rests back on his heels beckoning you to come.

You climb onto the edge and crawl to him. Now both in the center he holds your jaw and pulls you close. His lips find yours again hungrier than before.

You feel his teeth bite into your lower lip and tug. It arouses you and he releases your lip to do again. Then he envelops his mouth completely onto yours. You feel the hardness of his cock as he presses it into your thigh.

He wants to defile you on this table. He smirks at the high disrespect to the Harkonnen dynasty he is about to commit. Soon this will all belong to him so what does it matter. He pushes you back to lie flat against the stone slab. You gaze up above him to the metallic barbs of the chandelier until his face obstructs your view.

His hands start at your knees grabbing the hem of your gown sliding it up to your hips.

His hands clutch one side of your panties tearing them apart making you gasp. He tears the other side and rips them clean from your body.

You watch as he sits back on his heels between your parted legs. He unhooks the clasp of his pants and pulls his thick veiny cock out. The contrast of the black fabric against his large hardened pale cock is striking.

His slaps his pink tip on your clit to edge you.

You flinch at each tap as it makes your bundle of nerves jump. He slides his hand down your thigh to meet your hip and holds you steady. He lines himself up and thrusts into you so roughly you have no time to adjust to the feeling.

Your vision goes hazy as your back arcs from the table. His penetration shocked you senseless. His large cock expands parts of you that you never knew existed. He watches how your face changes from pain to pleasure and back again as you try and relax around the girth of his size.

He wants to spur you on and leans down pressing his chest to yours. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck titling your head so he can speak softly into your ear.

”You are so beautiful to me” he says as his eyes study your side profile. He traces his thumb on your lower lip as you pant for him. “So desperate for my cock, the way you’d let me fuck you on this table you’d let me do anything to you” a moan escapes your lips as he shushes you “Just lay still and look pretty while I fuck you until you stretch open for me” you moan louder at his words.

He begins to roughly thrust inside of you like he wants to posses you. His cock hits your core at a dangerous pace. Your breasts bounce with every push of his hips. He is already becoming lost in pleasure grunting above you. He loves the feeling of your tight cunt stretching around his throbbing cock.

You arc your back down flat to brace yourself against his rutting. “You…feel too good on my cock” he rasps out as he finally hits the thrust that stretches you around his size. He stares down into your eyes completely transfixed by the physical connection between your bodies.

Unbeknownst to you both the Baron has finally narrowed his search. After spying into several halls down the corridor his servants waves him over finally finding the one you are in. The Baron peeks through the discreet opening made by one of the nimble servants. There on the middle of the table in the grand meeting hall he sees Feyd fucking you ruthlessly.

Your are constantly being pounded into the stone slab table by his strength. His hips begin slapping harder against you as he thrust between your legs. You hold out until the familiar tightening in your abdomen begins. Your moans start to fill the air.

As your walls clench around him it makes his cock feel incredible inside of you. Your eyes stare up at him, pleading and begging for release.

He sees the neediness in your eyes and brings his hand between your bodies touching your clit. His finger tips are wet by your arousal and he slicks them expertly in firm circles around your bundle of nerves.

It sends shocks though your core that radiate your entire body “YES please Feyd just like that“. You are unable to string together another sentence as you orgasm. He strums your clit as hard as he can with his cock slamming into your soaked pussy.

His mouth opens when he feels the pleasurable sensation of your walls milking his cock from the orgasm. He pins your wrists next to your head and plows into you even harder his release is immediate. His pace falters as he orgasms. You both moan as he paints rope after rope of his hot cum into your cervix.

He rests down on his elbows laying his full weight on you panting. He kisses your lips passionately with his final slow thrusts. His breath shudders into your mouth as he feels his cock empty inside of you.

He plants soft kisses around your face as he comes down. Each one more tender and loving than the last. His heart feels revived when he’s with you. He cradles your head in his hands staring deeply into your eyes. You smile at him and he smiles back, this time it isn’t like his sinister ones before, this one is radiant you see the kindness return in his eyes.

His uncle spying on the entire moment becomes enraged : not at the fact Feyd missed training, not at the fact he satisfied his carnal urges on the sacred meeting hall table, but at the fact Feyd put a woman’s pleasure before his own. The Baron turns away in disgust his patience is severed.

He raised Feyd with enough brutality and greed to become a ruthless tyrant. Now he sees every aspect of brutally he instilled in Feyd quickly being stripped away by a female. He never thought this was possible.

He is resolute in his decision to regain control. He will take out two problems with one swift action: Punishing Feyd by having you removed from his presence entirely.

[Sneak Peek: Full fic in finalization]

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