#too precious for this cruel world | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

perlelune · 2 months

Text

Young God | Feyd-Rautha

The mercy you show towards an enemy in the aftermath of battle yields tragic consequences for you and your people.

Warnings: NON-CON, Fremen!Reader, Kynes!Reader, Kidnapping, Unrequited Love, Mentions of cannibalism, Knife Play, Masochism

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

The aftermath of battle is often the same ritual. Corpses are taken away to scavenge for bounty and salvage the water in their bodies. Moisture is too precious, too rare in the air and the dry desert sand covering your home world to be wasted. Harkonnen foot soldiers especially. No sympathy is spared for the cruel beasts who slaughter your fellow fremen, ravage your land, and bleed your beloved home planet Arrakis of its most valuable resource. The Spice.

Today is one of these days. After fending off another attack by the Harkonnen army, your entire tribe is sifting through the desert fields. The proud white-skinned soldiers weren’t expecting the swarm of Fremen that unleashed upon them. Thankfully Muad'Dib had a vision of the attack and managed to convince enough of your people to raise their blades in unison to stand against their oppressors. While you balk at violence, preferring to stay back and sink into your role as a healer, you still wish to offer assistance in cleaning up the battlefield and checking for any potential injuries. You were a little shocked when you arrived and were struck with the realization that there is so little for you to do, the number advantage having been so overwhelming.

Still, you find a few warriors that require medical attention. Their injuries are deeper than you expect. Apparently one of the Harkonnen soldiers wouldn’t let himself be slain, unleashing a storm of fury all on his own and taking several down with him. You gingerly finish dressing your last wound, lifting your head as you notice your cousin heading north.

Wiping the blood on your hands with a rag, you get to your feet.

“Chani, where are you going?” you inquire.

She stares ahead, crysknife in hand, determined.

“Some may have survived and slipped away from us. We’re checking the caves nearby.”

You give a nod and follow after her. “I’ll come with you.”

While your voice didn’t waver earlier, your stomach is in knots as you join the search. You and Chani split up. She points in a direction and you acquiesce, rushing the opposite way. You sneak underground, climbing down a row of steep, slippery rocks before you find a small cave.

You practically have to crawl the rest of the way inside, the lichen-draped overhang almost too bent and crooked for you to advance any further. It’s no wonder no one thought to check this place. It’s hard to imagine any wounded Harkonnen soldier gathering the strength to hide in such a place.

You’re forced to swallow your words however when you find the outline of a pale form lying across the cave floor.

Your jaw drops. You inch closer to the corpse, already planning on calling another Fremen to help you extract the water from the body.

But the man’s chest lifts, his mouth shuddering ever-so-slightly.

Tamping down your fear, you hunker down and inspect his armor. Your brows knit. A long, deep jagged cut slashes his side. The kind of deadly injury that makes you wonder how the man is still breathing, as it’s impossible no internal organs haven't at least been nicked.

Yet, somehow he is, still breathing that is.

Though you gather not for long based on the way blood gushes from the wound.

You hear your name called from outside the cave. Pulse soaring, you climb your way out of the concealed shelter with haste.

You’re faced with Chani’s questioning stare. She must be done with her own search. You note the tinge of crimson on the tip of her blade. Your insides wrench.

The lie flows from your tongue with frightening ease.

“I already checked that one. It’s empty.”

She nods and walks away. You wait for her to be at a safe distance to return inside the cave.

As your slow, fearful steps bring you closer to the wounded man, your mind rages, at war with itself.

You are of two worlds. Daughter of the fallen Liet-Kynes, imperial planetologist, and a member of the Sietch Tabr. The Harkonnen are your people’s ancestral enemies. Oppressors who annihilate whoever stands between them and their unquenchable thirst for more wealth and power.

They are monsters. There is only one rational thing to do when one is faced with one of the pale-skinned warriors. Only one thing that is right to do.

You unsheathe the crysknife at your thigh from its scabbard. The blade is shimmery and new. So perfectly sharp. For you have never used it. Not even once.

You approach his unmoving form and lift the blade high in the air.

The crysknife in your hands quivers above his chest. It’d be so easy to end it. So quick. Over within a few minutes. You’ve seen countless members of your sietch do it, not a sliver of hesitation in their smooth, practiced motions. Some even enjoy it, reveling in seeing that spark wither in their enemies’ eyes.

For a moment, you let yourself wonder, picture yourself snugly gripping the blade and driving it through the Harkonnen’s alabaster throat. The watery coughs he’d let out. The blood seeping from his neck and pooling around him. The light in his onyx orbs flickering before going out.

It should satisfy you. After all the evils they’ve inflicted upon your people, upon your planet, the prospect of retribution should fill you with immeasurable joy.

Yet it doesn’t. Chest heaving, you slowly lower the weapon until it slips out of your hands, its clattering echoing in the cave.

Your shoulders sag as you unleash a tremulous breath, one you didn’t notice was even caged inside your lungs.

An unyielding truth swaddles you as you watch your pale-skinned enemy draw feeble, dwindling breaths. You can’t take a life. You are a healer, through and through.

You gasp when you suddenly feel the cold bite of metal against your throat.

Your eyes widen. The Harkonnen is awake, heavy, wheezing breaths bursting from his chest as he presses the blade against your neck.

“I-If you kill me, you will not survive,” you stammer, your chest clenching in fear.

He shocks you by flipping the blade and handing it to you.

“Then give me a warrior’s death,” he says, his gaze unwavering. You study him. He looks worse than before. What he just did must have taken his last bit of strength.

Steadying your hammering heart, you glower at him.

“The glory you seek isn’t in a dank cave, Harkonnen.”

As soon as he collapses over the cold, hard stones, you get to work. First, you check his pulse. Though it’s faint, you find a steady heartbeat. He must be quite strong, you surmise. You’ve never seen anyone survive this long with an injury this deep. Logically, he should be dead.

But he isn’t. So while you shouldn’t feel this way, every fiber of your being craves to pull him from the brink.

You peel the layers of his armor off him. Heat nestles inside your cheeks as your gaze roams over the hard, defined planes of his muscular form. You shake off the sensation, reminding yourself that you can’t proceed unless you have complete access to the wound and need to assess for other potential injuries.

You reach for your medpak and pouch. You use a mix of wound sealant and medicinal herbs to curb the bleeding. You then clean the wound with antiseptic and press onto it firmly. Eventually, it stops. Once the bleeding is under control, you pull out a needle and thread from your pouch and begin sewing the wound. Every stitch is nice and neat, so tight that you know he will barely scar. You squint as you work, the dim lighting of the cave making you miss the right spot in his skin a few times. You keep a cool head the entire time, simply starting over whenever necessary.

After the wound is sealed, you set up a hypovial with a plasma bag. Finding the bulging vein in his arm isn’t too hard. It’s quite easy in fact, as every part of him appears carved from stone. You slip a dash of spice melange in the IV. A potent cinnamon smell fills the air. Just the right amount to keep him awake. Now that his life isn’t on the line anymore, his peculiar body chemistry should do the rest and recover.

You unleash a deep breath and wipe the sweat doting your forehead. You sag against the cave wall.

Your eyes drift to the night sky, visible through a small opening in the overhang.

For the first time since you snuck inside the cave, the tension woven through your limbs comes loose.

Nights on Arrakis are a thing of beauty. You are willing to bet there are no more beautiful skies in the entire galaxy. None so clear and vast and with stars twinkling this bright. Mother used to say the same thing, that the boundless empyreans of Arrakis were the most beautiful sight she ever laid eyes upon. And as an imperial envoy, your mother traveled far across the known universe. So she must have been right.

You cast one last glance at the Harkonnen warrior. He’s stable. Or stable enough at least.

It’s time for you to return to your sietch before too many questions are asked.

“You were gone a while,” your cousin blurts out when you return to your sietch. You weigh her tone. There is no suspicion laced in it, just curiosity.

“I was just making sure we didn’t forget any of them,” you casually reply.

Chani heaves out a deep sigh. “You don’t have to. You have no heart for killing, cousin.” She turns her focus to the rest of your tribe. “We need you here, tending to our wounded. It’s where you shine best.”

You nod in acknowledgement. No one in the sietch ever expected you to fight but you often wish that you could do more. You think of your mother’s untimely death, of the way Fremen laid down their lives today. Your heart sinks. If anyone learned of what you did, you would be exiled. Rightfully so. Your eyes wander to your cousin, now besides Paul Atreides. Longing gazes lock and fingers twine before they disappear into their shared tent. You look away.

You hope one day that twisting inside your chest whenever you see them will cease. You are happy for them; you truly are. Nevermind that you felt a pull towards the heir of House Atreides from the moment you met him, that you felt it was returned when his gaze rested upon you. That all of it vanished the moment his eyes crossed Chani’s.

A seer from your tribe foretold that a woman in your family would have a great destiny, one that will change the fate of worlds. You now understand, that woman is Chani, and she and Paul aren’t just destined to one another. They are fated.

And who are you to stand in the way of fate?

“You must be insane, girl,” the Harkonnen soldier scoffs as you remove the needle in his arm. Since he appears to have regained some color…or whatever consists of “color” for a Harkonnen, you elected to remove the plasma bag this morning.

A sliver of shame flutters through you that you were almost relieved to find him alive. You saved a life. Perhaps not the most worthy one, but a life nonetheless.

“Striking an enemy while he’s down isn’t brave,” you reply with nonchalance.

A crooked smirk cants his plump lips, baring a hint of the black teeth underneath.

“Insane and stupid then,” he sneers, the gristly echo of his voice resonating in the cave.

Ignoring the way his comment chafes you, you retrieve the little vials you packed this morning.

“Drink that.” He sits up, humming low in his throat with the movement when you’d expect him to wince or groan at the pain. It’s almost like he’s enjoying the pain he surely must be experiencing, but you discard that thought, because it’s ludicrous. What kind of person enjoys pain? “It’s water.” He studies you, making no move to grab the water. You fidget, unnerved that you can’t read his expression, his lack of eyebrows making it even more difficult. “I could only steal a little from the deathstill. It’s all I could get before anyone could see me.”

You briefly considered trading your mother’s water rings, the ones you inherited upon her death. The symbol of her standing and wealth within the Sietch Tabr.

Though while you may have saved your enemy, you want to hold on to that piece of her for as long as you can.

“I also have some food.” You rummage through your pouch to pull out dried fruits, slices of meats, bread and spice honey. It’s the best you could gather on short notice without drawing suspicion.

His dark gaze flicks over you as he taunts, “Perhaps I shall eat you. You look far more appetizing than…whatever this is.” You shudder, acutely aware that while cannibalism isn’t widespread amongst the Harkonnen…it’s also not unheard of.

He snickers at your expression. “Do not fret, desert rose.” His gravelly voice drips with suggestion as he licks his lips. A chill runs through you as his black tongue and teeth are bared to you. “I’m not quite that hungry…yet.”

Your shift, discomfort slithering through you. There is something profoundly unsettling about the Harkonnen, even more so than a typical one. The blood leaking through the bandage draws your gaze.

“I should dress your wound and redo the stitching,” you offer, clearing your throat.

When your hand stretches towards his wound, he growls at you.

Your heart leaps and you retreat your hand.

“Please,” you insist. “You’re bleeding.”

When he doesn’t make another threatening sound, you take that as your cue. You quickly gather your supplies and approach him. The drumming of your heart inside your ears is a clamor, but you pretend it isn’t there, removing the bandage and driving the needle through his wound to sew it shut again. He doesn’t flinch, showing no hint of even feeling the needle. His sizzling scrutiny sears through your flesh, almost causing your usually steady hands to quake. You sharpen your focus, remembering your grandmother’s teachings. Steady heart, steady hands.

He tilts his head, dark gaze trained on you. “I threaten to eat you and you tend to me still. What a peculiar creature you are, desert rose.”

The days fly by in a strange haze, your days spent preparing for the new Reverend Mother while you sporadically check on the stranger. He recovers faster than you expect, even without you needing to use the spice melange again. Considering he was at death’s door when you found him, you can’t help but be a little amazed.

You sense the time to go your separate ways is near. You have done a lot, likely more than you should. The alabaster-skinned warrior is well enough to roam the desert and find his way back to his people through his own means. You brought him supplies, food and a stillsuit. Whatever befalls him will be up to fate and his own wits. You don’t plan on returning after tonight.

“You’re looking better,” you note, checking his wound for the last time. You leave the bandage for good measure even if it’s clear he doesn’t need it anymore, the wound having begun to fade since you removed his stitches yesterday.

He pins you with that unsettling stare once more.

“That song you sang…” he rumbles.

“A song?” Your head tilts as you comb through your memories. It comes back to you. You sometimes hum it to yourself. It calms you down. You didn’t even realize you’d done it in his presence. “Ah, that song.” You shrug, a small smile sneaking onto your lips. “It’s just a lullaby my grandmother used to sing to me before she passed, to teach children about the Shai-Hulud.”

He looks at you in what you believe to be confusion at the name, though you can only assume.

“Your people call them… sandworms,” you explain. “They are sacred and should be revered.”

Silence hangs between you and the Harkonnen. His deep raspy voice shatters it after some time.

“Songs…I had a blade in my hands from the moment I could walk.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, unsure what else to say. He doesn’t seem sad, more reflective, but it seems you should say something. “Do you…Do you ever think of what your life would be like if you weren’t Harkonnen?” When he looks at you blankly, a nervous laugh peals from your lips. “I’m sorry. That was a silly question.”

Your crysknife materializes in his hands from behind his back. Your blood runs cold as you pat your thigh. You don’t remember ever leaving it around him.

“My older brother...He took me from our parents when I was a baby,” he utters, sounding detached, almost as if he were recounting someone else’s life. “My uncle raised me. I don’t remember my father. And my mother…” His lightless gaze slams into yours as he smiles, exposing his glistening, black teeth. “I killed that whimpering, meddling bitch.”

Your breath snags in your throat. Perhaps…you let yourself get too comfortable around the Harkonnen. The crude reminder of who he is, who they all are, yanks you back to reality.

You bolt to your feet, coaxing a tremulous smile onto your face.

“It’s getting late. I should return home before the sandstorms grow too strong.”

As you prepare to leave, the muffled pitter-patter of footsteps above you freezes you in your tracks. Your eyes bulge. Dread sinks within you as you realize someone’s right above you.

Before a single sound can make its way past your lips, the Harkonnen’s large hand envelops your mouth. He pulls you flush against his bare chest as he whispers into your ear, “Quiet.”

His muscles go taut against you. You catch him twirling the blade with smooth precision, clearly ready to fight if need be. You hold your breath, bridling your stuttering heartbeats.

Two men in full Harkonnen livery leap inside the cave. Panic rushes through you.

However, instead of a fight breaking out, relief fills the soldier’s faces as they see him.

“Na-baron. We received your beacon.”

Na-Baron…The air is knocked from your lungs. The title isn’t that common amidst the known universe. In fact, it’s quite unique and you only ever heard of one man from one specific house using it. Na-baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, the heir-designate to Baron Vladmir Harkonnen.

He is a monster, a ruthless killer…and you nursed him back to health. Allowed him to get well enough to hurt, maim and kill as he pleases. The cave seems to twirl off its axis around you.

Perhaps he was right that night. You might be an insane idiot.

You feel the subtle lift of his lips against your scalp.

“Right. Did I forget to mention my name?” he taunts, as if he could read every thought zooming across your head. Giving you no time to even try to run or fight him off, the na-Baron slams your head against a nearby wall.

Pain explodes inside your skull. Your vision dims as you grow too weak to stand, your knees buckling beneath you. You fall into his arms and he holds you against him. He strokes the side of your face, a fire burning in his onyx orbs. Consciousness slips from you, his last words reverberating inside your ears.

“You and I are going home to Giedi Prime, my desert rose.”

You awake startled, jarred by the softness of the sheets and the largeness of the bed around you. This is nothing like the cot you used to sleep on in the desert. You leap from the bed, clutching your face and hugging your frame, stunned to note you are without your stillsuit and face mask.

Instead, you are wearing a sheer white tunic that hugs your curves in a way that leaves very little to the imagination. The outfit is unlike you, impractical in every way. Your pulse escalates.

You rush to rise and nearly crash down on the bed again.

Your forehead creases.

You wobble around, struck by the difference in gravitational pull, humidity and atmospheric pressure. Every breath you take exerts you, bearing heavily on your lungs.

Your head spins as you glance at the unfamiliar room. Every single detail of it is cold, somber, opulent.

Horror twists your insides.

You’re not on Arrakis anymore.

“You’re in the Harkonnen keep, darling.”

The gravelly voice erupting at your back has you whirl around. A half-exposed Feyd-Rautha fills your sight, his carved alabaster muscles and bald head shimmering silver in the low light.

You swallow hard, fighting to keep yourself breathing normally in the brand new air.

“The Harkonnen Keep on…”

“Giedi Prime, yes,” Feyd-Rautha finishes.

While you understood it on your own, having it uttered out loud sends you in a renewed state of alarm. You are away from your family, your friends, your home. You are alone on a foreign planet. A hostile, enemy planet.

“In secluded apartments away from my other concubines,” he further informs. A shadow of mirth lurks in his gaze. “They’re quite the jealous kind. They may even try to take a bite out of you if they learn of your existence…” He leers at your shivering frame, making no effort to hide his lust, the evidence already bulging in his pants. “Though I don’t think I could entirely blame them.”

He inches closer to you. “How does the weight of a real planet feel?” he asks, a twisted excitement swaying in his dark orbs. “Is it crushing your bones? Is every cell in your body screaming in pain, my desert rose?” He grips your chin, studying you oddly, almost as if he wishes he could absorb every bit of your agony and discomfort.

You glare up at him, your insides white hot with rage.

“H-How could you do this? I saved you.”

He frames your chin, squeezing tightly. “Oh darling, you should have killed me…” A squeak spills from your throat as he drags his tongue across the side of your quivering cheek. His lips brush over your earshell as he mumbles under his breath. “Because there’s nowhere in the galaxy you will ever be able to hide from me now.”

“I belong in Arrakis with my people. You have to let me go,” you plead.

You search his impassive face, scouring for an errant ounce of humanity. The emptiness you find has tears rushing to your eyes. You mourn the tragic loss of moisture, willing yourself to stop crying. Ever since you were young, you were taught never to waste your precious water...especially on something as trivial, as painfully unnecessary as tears.

...But you can't quell your weeping.

He tilts his head.

“You belong with me…No, to me, desert rose. In my arms, screaming as I ruin that pretty cunt of yours with my cock.”

Fear floods your entire being. Your eyes scan the room. A faint spark of hope blooms inside you as you spot a long, sharp knife on a stone table nearby.

Pushing past the queasiness you experience every time you move on the unfamiliar planet, you race across the room and grab the knife.

You point it at him. Instead of cowering, Feyd-Rautha opens his arms, smirking.

“Do it,” he urges, making no effort to protect himself from the sharp blade in your hand, inviting you to strike him as his tongue darts across his lips.

His uncanny anticipation coats the air. Confusion fills you.

“I will,” you say, trying to appear braver than you feel. Still, the blade quakes in your hand.

“Please. I beg of you,” he purrs, gliding towards you. As he watches you hesitate, he cruelly reminds you, “You will never go home, never see your beloved planet again. In fact,...” He hums, his eyes lighting up as if a wonderful idea just occurred to him. “I think I might slaughter some of your family and friends just for sport.”

A wave of wrath surges through you. Bereft a thought behind it, your hand slashes across his chest, a small cut forming there. Droplets of blood so dark it appears black drip down onto his alabaster flesh.

“More…” he rasps, pleasure leaking from his gravelly voice.

The sight of the bleeding wound rattles you, causing you to retreat.

But he doesn’t let you remove the blade, his fingers cinching around your wrist and keeping its sharp tip over his bulging pec. You sob as he forces you to drag the blade across his chest, a blissful expression spreading across his features. A long dark cut oozing dark red blood decorates his body now, going all the way to his defined abs.

Terror and confusion tangle within you. You stagger backwards, the dagger slipping from your lingers and hitting the floor.

“You’re sick.”

“I didn’t realize there was such a fire inside you, desert rose. If I don’t have you now, I think I’ll go mad.” His hoarse, lewd tone scrapes against your eardrums, causing your insides to twist in dread. He cracks his neck, black tongue sweeping over his lips as he approaches you. “No, I definitely will.”

It’s the only warning you get before he tosses you on the bed and rips the clothes off your frame. Tears brimming your lashes, you squeal in protest, scratching and punching every part of him within reach. You slap him hard and he cackles, baring his black smile in sheer delight.

“Come on, desert rose, I’m sure you can hit even harder,” he sneers.

To make him eat his words, you hit him again. Harder than before. His laugh gets louder as you watch a faint bruise form on his cheek.

Pinning your wrists besides your head, he bends over your chest. His tongue swirls around your nipples, his cool tongue causing you to hiss and shake. Sharp teeth graze your breast and the breath hitches in your throat. You squirm on the sheets, completely at the mercy of Feyd-Rautha as he licks, bites and kisses every part of your flesh. As if he wanted you covered in marks of his ownership, wanted to ensure there wouldn’t be a doubt in anyone’s mind that you were his if they stole a glance at you. You loathe the way your traitorous body writhes and pants, a disgusting dampness gathering at the apex of your thighs.

The tears in your eyes swell. Your body is divorcing your frazzled mind little by little, yielding to his rough, wanton touch.

He grabs your thighs and dips between your legs, diving straight for your center. He licks a long stripe up and down your folds and you tremble. As his devilish tongue swirls around your clit, your eyes flutter, blinding pleasure building in your core. Hot waves of delight engulf you as he gathers your arousal with his tongue and drags it around your tender spot. The slow, unrelenting patterns he traces with his mouth have you fight the urge to buck your hips into his jaw. Your juices drench the entire bottom of his mouth, but he doesn’t seem to mind, greedily devouring your cunt as if he’ll never get to do it again.

As you quiver against him, your orgasm flowing through you, he chuckles against your wet cunt.

“Your body can’t even deny how much it craves me, desert rose.”

Shame pulses through you with his words.

He crawls over you, cutting his pants loose with one aggressive shove downwards. Only a glimpse of his thick alabaster cock, glazed with his need at the tip appears in your vision before he shoves the entirety of himself in you. The pain is so intense, flames alongside your walls, that it robs the words from your throat. He sinks inside you until his tight balls chafe your cunt, his hand wrapping around your throat while the other keeps your wrists above your head.

You whimper beneath him, defenseless against his sharp, piercing thrusts. Pleasure builds within you, his cock overwhelming you with shameful sensations each time it grazes your sensitive places, making you see stars. Gargled sounds pour from your throat as his girth splits you apart.

He grunts as your walls constrict around him, slamming into you even harder.

“You’re so delightfully tight around me, darling.” He bends over you to whisper, “I bet I’ll turn you into my perfect little cock-hungry whore in no time. Have you on your back and knees for me whenever I wish it.”

The Harkonnen heir’s pace fastens, his cock hitting spots that have you question your sanity. So delicious that you can’t help but let pathetic little moans escape from your throat.

He buries himself inside you even deeper, the pain and pleasure blending in crescendo. Your eyes roll back as you near your peak. Meanwhile, Feyd Rautha’s hunting his own release, his quick thrusts growing sharp and slow, his bald head grazing your bare chest.

Pleasure rolls over in a tidal wave, your back curling alongside the sheets. His own release comes after yours, thick ropes of his seeds painting your sore, sensitive walls.

As you crash in a boneless heap on the sheets, he wraps his hand around your jaw and steals your lips for a sloppy, heated kiss.

You cry out in pain as he sinks his teeth into your neck, placing a visible puncture wound that won’t disappear for a while.

Still nestled in your warmth, he scatters more bites along your shoulder.

“Any man would be insane to let you go after tasting such a sweet cunt, desert rose.”

You know he wants you to see, doesn’t want you to miss a single second of the spectacle. It was a split second moment, one that could have easily resulted in his death.

But at the very last second, Feyd-Rautha prevailed and dodged Paul Atreides’ attack. He then proceeded to stab him in the heart in front of his heartbroken mother and your cousin.

You don’t want to believe it. It must be an awful dream, one you will soon wake up from. One that lasted entirely too long. While seeing Paul’s body sink to the floor, your heart shattering into a million tiny pieces…Watching Chani glare at you with pure hatred in her eyes from across the room is almost worse. You want to run to her, embrace her, tell her you never meant to leave, tell her you aren’t a traitor to your people despite what clothes you may wear now, what marks may brand your skin.

But it’s all for naught. Paul is dead and with him the hopes for your planet, for your people have died as well.

And you are left with nothing, no one. A stranger in a strange world.

It’s what he reminds you as he has you caged beneath him that night, burying himself inside you again and again with abandon.

“You’re mine, desert rose. And nothing, no one can take you away from me. Not my uncle. Not Paul Atreides. Not the Emperor.” He chuckles darkly, whispering against your ear. “...And not even you, darling.”

He is right. You are his. And with no one to challenge the rule of the now Baron Feyd-Rautha, ruler of House Harkonnen, it is as he said…There is nowhere in the galaxy you can hide where he will not find you.

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #dune fanfiction #dune part 2 #dune #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd-rautha #feyd-rautha harkonnen #dark fic

2K notes · View notes

kuramirocket · 1 year

Text

*watches Demon Slayer for a second time because I'm obsessed*

I was going to finish the manga first before my rewatch which I would have finished ages ago, but my sleep schedule has been so fcked that I've been too tired to read.

̶N̶o̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶h̶a̶s̶ ̶s̶t̶o̶p̶p̶e̶d̶ ̶m̶e̶ ̶f̶r̶o̶m̶ ̶r̶e̶a̶d̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶f̶i̶c̶s̶ ̶l̶m̶a̶o̶

But eh, been dying to rewatch and I only have one volume left to go anyway which I more or less know how it ends xD

And after that just need to read Stories of Water and Flame and The Flower of Happiness (which the latter sounds so cute just from the summary!! I mean Tanjiro looking for a flower for his sister. Too cute!!) Also cannot wait for the other two books to come out! Not to mention the Demon Slayer artbook.

I need more official Demon Slayer content @-@

̶I̶ ̶a̶m̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶f̶c̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶r̶s̶t̶y̶. ̶ ̶E̶s̶p̶e̶c̶i̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶d̶e̶m̶o̶n̶!̶t̶a̶n̶j̶i̶r̶o̶ ̶c̶o̶n̶t̶e̶n̶t̶ ̶L̶O̶L̶

*edit*

So, I watched the first 5 eps of Demon Slayer once again. Mom was in the room all the while and I noticed at the start of the 1st ep she really turned off her tablet to pay full attention to the series wjwbjwnwkwkkw

Then when the episode ended with Giyuu having let Tanjiro and Nezuko go and both having buried their family members, holding hands and leaving the home they and their family have lived in for generations; my mom turns to me and said, "I was crying." Hwjaiwjjwjwkqka Granted, seeing Tanjiro beg Giyuu to spare Nezuko and to not take away all he had left in the world, I too had tears in my eyes even though we've seen this already and know what happens shsjwnkwnwow

Just this show is so sad and emotional. As I've always said, at it's heart, this series is about family :'D

I just love the Kamado family so much. They were such a united and happy family. Seriously, they have one of the healthiest family dynamics I have ever seen. Literal goals! And I just adore the bond between Tanjiro and Nezuko :'D

How can one not love this series wjwbsjsnnwkwnsma :'D

#h e l p #I love this series too much or rather my beloved precious too pure for this cruel world tanjiro and his oh so cute bond with nezuko #urgh someone kill me they have my whole heart mind and soul #someone also take me to the world tour events specifically the one in Mexico cause the spanish dub is so good!!#ofc rewayching the series in spanish cause that dub really is top tier #probably on a third rewatch I'll finally watch the series in japanese xD #I can't like anything normally #send h e l p #the moment I read volume 1 it was over for me and I never suspected anything pffft #demon slayer #tanjiro kamado #nezuko kamado #giyuu tomioka

1 note · View note

thefallofruins · 3 months

Text

“𝑨𝑭𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑴”— [𝑹𝒀𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑵 𝑺𝑼𝑲𝑼𝑵𝑨]

Synopsis — being Sukuna’s favourite subjects you to relentless bullying. Sukuna reminds you of your place. As his Queen.

Minors DNI Requested by anon. Part of Sukuna x concubine! reader series

Tw: smut, mentions of multiple orgasms, belly bulging, passing out, violence and bloodshed (it’s Sukuna, duh)

Sukuna is a completely different man the day he sees your tears. Ordinarily, he would have laughed at the sight of a human crying, it seems to annoying pathetic when they do so— a sign of weakness, a sign of helplessness.

But not you, no, none of these rules apply to you. You are exempted from it, he doesn’t know why, but the sight of you crying fills him with rage. Maybe because you were his, his property, his precious concubine.

“T-They said that you’ll… discard me off someday.” You sob. The cruel and neglected concubines, though envious, had spoken the truth. He had done that to a lot of others. They held no meaning to him.

But you? You’ve grown too attached. But how could you not? How could you not when this absolute monster, this terrifying being had given you everything the world hadn’t? Affection, pleasure, love?

He had no value of lives that were of no use to him. If they served him no purpose, they would meet death. But how could he discard you? You, who belongs to him, and rightfully so?

“I hold no such intentions.” His voice is stern, he wants to rip those vile wenches apart for causing you this distress. “You…” he lifts your face, squishing your red hued cheeks “…Are mine. I don’t intend on discarding you for this eternity.”

His voice is a low growl as his grip tightens. “You are mine. For this life and the many more to come.”

He lifts you by your arm using his other hand, crouching down to your height. “Do you understand? Only you have the privilege of having me. Not those insects, and you say I’ll abandon you?”

His fingers play with the obi of your loosely held kimono, eliciting a gasp out of you. He buries his face into the crook of his neck, inhaling your scent. “To abandon you will be an act of utter foolishness, and I am no fool.”

He presses a soft kiss to your neck, followed by another on a lower spot. Your kimono slides off your shoulders and onto the ground below.

“Mine.” He growls into your ear, a hand moving to your breast, fitting perfectly into his hands and he kneads it. His other hand finds your cunt, pressing upon the sensitive nub and causing you to gasp softly.

“M-My lord..”

Your sweet voice only gives him a reason to proceed further, pads of his fingers prodding upon your entrance, your juices slowly flowing onto his fingers and he teases your entrance.

“I have made you the sole object of my pleasure and affection…” he says, hearing your sweet noises as he plays with your clit. “…and you dare insinuate that I will abandon you?”

Your wetness flows down his fingers. He knew exactly where to touch you, something he wouldn’t even try to do to the others.

“I’m sorry, m-my lord..” you speak between soft moans. His words filling you with such great pride. He had so excellently removed the doubts plaguing your mind. “I w-won’t assume such trivial things again—”

He chuckles, slowing down his movements to slow circles around your clit. “Mmh— my lord, p-please forgive me.”

A deep chuckle escapes him again, as he speaks, “that I will. Now lay down.”

Without a moment to waste, you do, skin shining under the pale moonlight as you lay on his bed, legs as he strips off his own clothes, his cock standing hard, drops of precum beaded at the tip. He teases your entrance with it, causing you to groan.

“P-Please, my lord…” you whimper, causing him to chuckle again. “Very well.” He answers your plea, slowly entering your tight cunt that welcomes the entire girth he slowly pushes into you. You gasp as you feel the tip nudge your cervix— he was too big, but you always took him so well.

“So tight.” He groans, slowly bringing himself to thrust in and out of your tight heat. “You’re made for me, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yes, my lord!” Your moan as he fastens in his pace, hands wrapping around his neck. He is merciless in pounding into your cunt, nudging your cervix till your eyes roll back and your nails dig into his skin.

“Look at you.” He chuckles darkly. “You’re truly mine. Taking me so damn well, aren’t you?” Any other would have crumbled under how relentless he is, but you take it so well.

Your moans echo in the chambers as you receive the treatment only his favourite deserves. And by the end of it, you are left in a mess. His cock and loads of cum stuffing your poor cunny full, your moans raspy and he releases load after load into you, his thumb playing with your sensitive nub occasionally, his other hands fondling your breasts and toying with your sore nipples.

You’ve lost count of how many orgasms he had pulled from you, and you don’t know how many more are to come. You simply take it, drool dripping down your cheek, nails dug into his skin, cunt pumped full, and brain numb from pure pleasure.

When he finally does stop, a stream of cum runs down your entrance, loosening the bulge in your tummy from the excess of it. He brushes strands of your hair back with surprising gentleness before he captures your lips with his and parts.

“You truly make a magnificent sight, my Queen.”

Queen. Your heart swarms with a warmth. Eyes pricking with tears. You have so much to say but you’re so incredibly worn out you can barely lift a finger.

“Shhh..” he mutters, sensing a towel between your thighs, cleaning the mess up. Then , covering your bare form with the warm blanket, he kisses your forehead. “Mine. My Queen. For all eternity.”

“Rest now, my Queen.” He leaves you be in the chambers, you want him to stay. To hold you and say it again. And again. To call you his Queen. But for now, he has something more important to attend to.

When he returns, you’ve already passed out from the tiredness. He chuckles softly, kissing your forehead. “My only one.”

Too bad you couldn’t see the sight of his bloodstained kimono or hear the screams of terror. But that was a small price to pay for hurting the Queen of Ryomen Sukuna.

#sukuna x you #ruins posts #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

2K notes · View notes

thee-horny-thicky · 1 year

Text

Worship

A/N: This season has made me simp for both Akaza and Douma, so here's a smutty headcanon thing.

Akaza and Douma cannot stand each other. They’re complete opposites in almost every way, especially when it comes to their treatment of women. Akaza believes them to be untouchable, while Douma thinks that the most delectable flesh comes from beautiful young women.

However, they do have a single thing in common. Both men are huge fans of worshipping their partner’s body, in their own unique ways.

You see, both demon’s ideology steams from their adoration for women. Douma, being an egotistic hedonist, indulges his love for them by devouring their bodies, in my ways than one.

He enjoys making his partner feels good, as it's another way for his ego to be fed. Not only does he like their reactions, but he loves the taste of pussy. Yours in particular. He's a munch, your honor.

Getting a taste of your slick is a daily requirement, and when he's particularly desperate, he'll fall to his knees and pleasure you where you stand.

Given his sadistic streak, he adores blending pain and pleasure together. He’ll tie you up to make sure you can’t run from him, and when he’s feeling particularly cruel, he may blindfold you, so you won’t be able to guess his next move. The one thing he’ll never do, though, is gag you. He adores hearing your noises too much for that. He likes seeing you be pathetic, so he’s a huge fan of edging. He’ll play with you until you’re on the brink of orgasm, then stop his motions until you’re begging for him to let you cum. And once he does, he switches from edging to overstimulation. He’s a demon with stamina a human can only dream of, and he’ll keep going until you’re sobbing for him to stop. Often, you two are at it until the sun is peaking over the horizon.

And if you make him upset, he has an array of paddles and whips to spank you with.

On the flip side, Akaza despises the idea of inflicting pain onto women, making them completely off-limits when it comes to killing. When it comes to sex, he’ll treat you like the most precious thing in the world and draw orgasm after orgasm from you. He has a hard time expressing his emotions, so sex is his way of showing his love for you.

The only way he’ll taste a woman is when he goes down on her, and like any good munch, he’ll be licking and sucking for a while. His favorite way to eat you is when you’re resting on your forearms, ass propped in the air, and pussy on display. It gives him a great view of your glistening folds and throbbing clit, and when your pussy starts to get too sensitive from coming too many times, he’ll allow his tongue to venture to your ass. As taboo as it is, it makes you feel good, which is all he cares about. He doesn’t look like Sukuna for nothing.

Only when you’re well-prepared will he fuck you. He’s inhumanly large, and if you aren’t well-stretched and very lubricated, you have no hope of taking him. He’ll refuse to fuck you if your pussy isn’t dripping with your juices because God forbid that he hurts you. There’s a reason those pants are baggy.

Not only is his dick inhumane in size, but in appearance, too. His shaft has bulging veins and ridges that offer you some delicious stimulation. Instead of doming off, his cockhead is more of a pointed tip, providing you with an interesting sensation as he pounds into you. His unique additions make him even harder to take. But though the stretch may be a little painful, once you’re adjusted, he’ll have you drooling and cock drunk in no time ♥️

A/N: I might write a proper threesome with them because I'm down BAD 😩

4K notes · View notes

gremlingottoosilly · 2 months

Note

Krueger X Bimbo!reader X König?

Oh to be squeezed between two hooded men... Krueger is cruel. Where his friend is somewhat softer around the edges, Sebastian wouldn't hesitate to call you out for being dumb - even as you cry and get mad at him for being so cruel and condescending( He is calling you every mean name in the book, the only sugarcoating here being that he adds "my" before it. You're not just a dumb cock-addicted slut - you're his dumb cock-addicted slut and he wouldn't trade you for anyone in the world. This man is relishes in how stupid you are. He loves to see your bright eyes getting wider as you stare at him in shock while he pours some absolutely deranged shit. Something that he made up completely, something that left you questioning reality and your entire life. He doesn't even feel bad for feeding you this bullshit, he loves to make you feel even dumber than before. Would bully you during sex too - spanking you raw, pushing his fat cock in your ass with miminal prep, just so he could hear your precious little cries as you beg him to stop. He loves you so so so much during times like this - what would he do without you, his precious little whore? Konig is mean, too - but he doesn't mean it, at least. He sometimes forget how dim you are, how you don't know even half of things he does. He loves being condescending and smile as you struggle to form even one coherent sentence, and he would call you his precious dumb girl that deserves the whole world. He would give it to you, of course - he loves spoiling you, calling you pretty names and smiling when you shyly tell him just how much you appreciate everything he has been doing for you. Every time he gives you some nice little gift after pounding your brains through your pussy, you're ready to forgive him for any sin. Konig loves to eat you out, making you even dumber than before. Makes you go crazy with his tongue and you struggle to even walk after this - especially since Krueger is also very adamant on fucking you with him, bullying your holes. Double penetration should be impossible with their dick sizes, but they make it work - luckily, their slutty girl can take them with enough prep. Spreading your legs for them and begging to be used - you're making such a good slut, even Krueger couldn't help but spoil you after. Massaging your sore spots and whispering something sweet and degrading in your ear while Konig mumbles something about buying you a new set of panties - just to rip them apart a few days later.

#konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere krueger #krueger x reader #sebastian krueger #cod krueger #cod

845 notes · View notes

loki-cees-all · 4 months

Text

Some Things Are Easier to Say in the Dark {Avengers!Loki x Female Reader One-Shot}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link

Pairing : Avengers!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : You and Loki absolutely despise each other. A mission to Finland forces you to work together undercover in the days leading up to Christmas, and then a blizzard traps you at an inn with only one bed. Suddenly all those teasing games aren't so fun anymore, and the animosity takes you both down a path neither of you anticipated.

W/c : 6.2k words

Content / Warnings : Enemies to Lovers, Snowed In, Only One Bed, Shameless Smut, Fingering, Teasing, Hate-Fucking, Cowgirl Position

Author's Note : My entry for @sarahscribbles' Christmas Collection, using the ✨ Enemies to Lovers ✨ prompt. Hope you enjoy it, dear!

18+ Only - Minors DNI

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

This had to be a joke.

Not only had you been given the ridiculous assignment of “accompanying” the newest member of the Avengers, the so-called God of Mischief, to Finland. Not only did you know it wasn’t accompaniment, it was actually babysitting, because despite Thor’s intense insistence that his brother be given this chance at redemption, the rest of the team still didn’t quite trust him yet.

Not only were you sure that this mission was just busy work - a way to simultaneously keep Loki distracted, and away from the prying eyes of the American government and media. And not only had this man single handedly usurped your rise from common S.H.I.E.L.D. agent to the next member of the Avengers, because the dungeons on Asgard were just too cruel for the precious Prince…

But now, there was only one bed left in this entire goddamn inn.

The sweet old woman checking you in apologized profusely when she broke the news, and you just stood there, silently fuming and clenching your jaw so hard your teeth would be aching for days. Truthfully, you should have known better - it was only four days before Christmas; how could you forget that it was technically a holiday, and that millions of people around the world would be traveling for leisure right now?

Maybe it was just because you couldn't recall the last time you'd taken a vacation, or the fact that you hadn’t spent a holiday with loved ones in years. Or maybe you’d been cursed somehow - most likely by the man standing next to you, with an infuriatingly charming grin on his face.

“Please don’t worry about it, my dear, we’ve just had quite a long day of traveling,” Loki gently assured the woman, reaching for her hand as she all but cowered in fear at your palpable rage. She seemed to relax as Loki soothed her, and you hated that it was him covering for your negative attitude instead of the other way around. “My fiancé - she’s just a bit old fashioned, and she wants to wait until marriage, you see...”

The woman smiled as if he was describing kittens snuggling together on a cold and rainy evening, and you were this close to absolutely losing your temper; he was already deviating from your mutually agreed upon cover story, that you were simply colleagues traveling to the Muotkatunturi Wilderness Area on a research trip, and he intentionally chose his own cover story to replace it - one that was designed to deliberately piss you off.

You knew Loki could feel the anger radiating off your skin, and he turned towards you with a smile of his own as he continued to act as your doting fiancé. “And I’m determined to make that a reality. I promise, I’ll be fine sleeping on the floor, alright, darling?”

He slipped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, his emerald eyes shining as he surely relished in your discomfort. You tried to focus on that, on how angry you were at him about everything - instead of his warm embrace, or how inviting his scent was.

“Well, you’re in luck. We’ve got the most comfortable floors in all of Rovaniemi!” the woman laughed as she returned to filling out the guestbook.

It was humiliating, but it seemed as though you had no choice. You let out a heavy exhale, deciding it would be easier to just go along with his story and get this interaction over with as quickly as possible. Your only saving grace was that this was temporary - soon this reconnaissance mission would be over, and sooner or later Loki would ruin the good graces of Tony and Steve and be sent back to the dungeons on Asgard.

But until then, you were going to have to find a way to make him pay for all of this later on.

“There’s my girl. Always the brave little soldier,” he purred softly, leaning down as if he was going to kiss you. Your eyes widened in panic, desperately fighting the urge to push him away and possibly punch him in his handsome face, but Loki caught the hint and quickly looked the other way.

You turned your attention back to the front desk as the woman fiddled with the paperwork, and a group of figurines for sale caught your eye, nestled among the garland and twinkling lights. A wicked grin crept across your face as you nudged Loki’s ribs unplayfully. “Look, dear - they’ve got some Odin statues for sale. Shall we buy some to hand them out with our Christmas gifts this year?”

Loki’s gaze slowly descended into madness, and you cheered silently once you were sure you’d gotten under his skin. His jaw tightened, along with the hand pressed against your ribs, but the woman smiled happily, unaware of just who she was talking to.

“Ah, yes - these make excellent souvenirs!” the woman laughed as she picked up one of the figurines, admiring the wood carving with a loving eye. “Did you know that the myth of Santa Claus is based partially on the myth of Odin - and that it all started right here in Rovaniemi?”

“Oh, I had no idea!” you lied, almost giddy with how much this was going to piss Loki off. “Could you tell me more about that? I find Norse mythology to be just fascinating…Of course, that pesky God of Mischief certainly leaves a lot to be desired, wouldn’t you say?”

She opened her mouth to answer, clearly very pleased that someone was finally so interested in her offerings, but Loki quickly interjected with barely contained rage. “Actually, if you could just focus on retrieving our room key now, I’d really appreciate it.”

“What is the God of Mischief’s name? Loki, or something like that?” you continued with absolute delight, slipping your arm around his waist the way he’d done while teasing you. “Pretty ridiculous name, if you ask me. Thor’s name is so much more elegant…”

“Well, it’s funny you should mention that. The name Loki actually means - ”

“The keys! Now. Please,” Loki snapped as he yanked your arm away, gripping your wrist so hard you were sure it was going to leave a bruise. That was definitely going in your mission report once you’d returned to Stark Tower.

The woman faltered briefly, clearly not expecting the charming man to shift his attitude so abruptly, but she reluctantly obliged and began rummaging around in a drawer for a set of room keys.

“You’ll have to excuse my fiancé, m’am…He just doesn’t believe in all that Norse mythology nonsense, even though I think it’s super interesting…” you smirked as Loki stewed with indignation. “But it’s just this one night that you have to endure the tall tales of Norse mythology, and then we’re off to Inari in the morning…aren’t we, sweetheart?”

The sweet old woman furrowed her brow as she pulled the last set of keys from the drawer and extended them over the counter. “Oh, didn’t you hear about the blizzard arriving tonight? They’re saying it’s the storm of the century. I doubt you two will be going anywhere for a while.”

Loki’s face fell alongside yours, and you both turned to the woman with matching grimaces. “I beg your pardon?”

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

Your mood quickly soured by the time Loki led the way upstairs to your room; of course there was a blizzard incoming, and of course it would mean you were trapped here longer than anticipated with the most inconsiderate man alive. He took the stairs two at a time, leaving you behind to struggle with your luggage, while his belongings were no doubt stored easily inside that stupid pocket dimension of his.

If just one more thing went wrong on this trip, you feared you might actually lose it - consequences be damned.

By the time you made it down the hallway to the door of your room, Loki was casually leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and a brooding expression on his face. If you didn’t hate him so much, it would have been a beautiful sight to behold.

“Hey, thanks for offering to help,” you called out sarcastically as you made your way over to him. “I’m absolutely shocked by how thoughtful and courteous you are.”

Loki scoffed and pushed himself off the wall as he pulled the key out of his pocket. “I could have just gone inside and left you wondering which door was ours. You should be grateful I didn’t.”

“Aww, is someone a little mad that I made him think about Odin?” you taunted, enjoying the way he tensed up again at the sound of his father’s name.

“No, it was just foolish. Do not make that mistake again…”

The door swung open and you rolled your eyes as you followed him inside. “Are you threatening me?”

Loki whipped around with barely restrained fury as soon as the door closed. “We’re meant to be under cover here, yes? So do you really think it’s a good idea to be throwing around my actual name just to infuriate me?” he snapped angrily, eyes blazing and fists clenching at his sides.

Your stomach did a flip in your abdomen, and you struggled to maintain an air of defiance as he continued. “You don’t know who anyone is here, or who could be listening to our conversations. So keep your mouth shut if you don’t want us to be discovered! Am I being clear?”

You nodded meekly, because that was all you could manage while kicking yourself. He was right, you were being foolish and forgetting the true purpose of this trip. Hydra could easily have eyes and ears everywhere, and if you kept pissing Loki off, he might not be inclined to save you if necessary.

And you hated that it might be necessary, because he was a literal God with infinite magic at his disposal, while you were just a fallible little human that he absolutely despised.

As Loki turned away and started pulling the drapes shut, you distracted yourself with examining the room you’d been given. Three large windows took up the entire outside wall of the room, and on either side of the lone queen-sized bed were two end-tables, each with a dark green lamp providing the only light to the room. A stone fireplace sat on the opposite side of the bed, decorated with greenery and frosted miniature Christmas trees, and a tiny wooden desk and chair were the only other pieces of furniture in the room.

It was definitely cozy, even you couldn’t deny that, but that just made it worse. In any other circumstances, you might have enjoyed this break; but the Christmas decorations just reminded you of how alone you were, and Loki’s presence only reminded you of how unnecessary you were.

And it was already starting to get uncomfortably cold inside the room. Just before Loki yanked the last curtain closed, you caught a glimpse of the snow outside; it had quickly transformed from light flurries into heavy sheets of frozen precipitation. You were in for a very cold, very long and lonely night, and daylight couldn't come soon enough.

A deep sense of dread settled in the base of your spine as you realized how long you might be trapped here with this narcissistic, self-important and delusional mockery of all the sacrifices you’d made to get to this point of your career.

You’d foregone relationships with family, friends and potential lovers to spend every waking moment either training your body or honing your skills, trying to prove your worth and dedication to keeping this world safe from anything that ever threatened it.

And the planet’s most recent threat, the reason for the Avengers’ very existence, was making himself busy pulling pillows and blankets off the bed to make his own on the hardwood floor. Loki was silent as he worked, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually hurt by your teasing.

You hated it. You hated this - especially since you hadn’t expected to feel so badly about taunting him. Clearing your throat, you set your suitcase on the chair and pretended to look for something inside. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened before. I guess I’m just…on edge.”

“Why bother?” he replied coldly, and you didn’t know if it was because he wasn’t actually hurt, or if it was because he didn’t care that you were potentially sorry about hurting him. Either way, the dismissal stung.

You continued rummaging through the suitcase, anything to avoid looking at your roommate for the night. How long had it been since you’d shared such close quarters with another person? Had there been anyone since college? You already felt raw and exposed by the idea of falling asleep within the same four walls as another person; but at the very least, Loki was sticking to his word about sleeping on the floor and not in the bed with you.

“You’re not worried about the mission? Or the blizzard? Or the fact that we might kill each other at any moment?” you laughed nervously, hoping to at least break some of the tension.

Loki sighed. “This mission is a joke. The blizzard might be a problem, and yes - we might certainly try to kill each other…but none of that is cause for real concern - not to me, anyway.”

Your brow furrowed, and you turned to look at him; the God of Mischief was on his hands and knees, arranging pillows and blankets on the floor. It was an amusing sight, and you struggled to maintain focus. “Wait - you think this mission is a joke?”

He paused what he was doing, staring off into the distance with regret in his eyes as if he’d already said too much but couldn’t bring himself to stop. “Don’t think for one moment that I don’t know what this mission actually is…”

You rubbed your neck nervously, unsure of where he was going with this.

“I know how easily it would be for Stark to send in his machines to do this reconnaissance, and that the Scepter likely isn’t here. Obviously, I’d be the last person they’d ever want close to it,” Loki continued, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefingers. “I know the others are probably on the other side of the world recovering it as we speak, and that this mission is completely pointless - hence, assigning you and I to it.”

Your heart sank as he spoke, knowing that he was probably right; that this mission was utterly pointless, that it wouldn’t advance you any further in your career. That the only thing this mission was going to lead to was meaningless and unnecessary frustration and pain for the both of you.

“I know what they - and you - don’t particularly like or trust me. And you have good reason not to.” Loki cast a tragic glance in your direction before quickly looking away again.

“So why are you here then? If you don’t want to be here, and if you don’t…” you trailed off, unsure if you should finish that thought.

Loki sighed and shook his head. “It…doesn’t matter,” he answered sadly, and your heart broke over the entire situation. You didn’t know what to say to make either of you feel better, and it was likely that nothing ever would.

“There. I think that’ll do nicely,” he announced pleasantly, abruptly changing the subject and rousing you from your pensive thoughts. You glanced over to see a grown man - a God, in fact - standing proudly over the neatly arranged pillows and blankets on the floor, and for a brief moment you couldn’t help but be amused by the sight - that is, until you noticed the state of your sleeping quarters for the foreseeable future.

“You stripped off most of the bed!” you protested angrily, examining the three paltry blankets left to keep you warm overnight.

“On the contrary - I stripped precisely half of the bed,” Loki replied as he began to remove his coat. “Of course, there’s a simple and quite easy way to double your warmth if you’re so concerned…”

“Absolutely not.” The words came out harsher than you’d intended, but even just sharing four walls felt way too close to him; sharing a bed was probably way more than you ever could handle.

“Fair enough. Shall I light a fire to keep us warm then?” Loki offered without skipping a beat, the sudden change in his tone giving you multiple rounds of whiplash. He stepped over to the fireplace to examine it, running his hands over the stone hearth’s arch before crouching next to the pile of logs.

How was he able to switch so suddenly, from profound soundness to being so thoughtful? You wanted to accept the kindness and be grateful for the change in tone, but all it did was put you on edge. You sat down on the bed and began to unlace your boots, still desperately trying not to look at him. “Don’t bother on my account,” was all the response you could manage.

The room was silent for a moment, and you could almost feel the gears turning inside Loki’s head as he tried to come up with something else to say. But why was he trying so hard? You had been counting on him retreating into himself the way he always did back at Stark Tower, or worst case - that he would be deliberately messing with you, making your life hell and again ruining your chances at proving yourself worthy.

You could feel his gaze boring into the back of your skull as your boots clattered to the floor. And when he still hadn’t tried to speak, you cautiously looked over your shoulder to him. “Was there something else you wanted?”

Loki sighed and let his eyes drift away as he shook his head. An expression of restrained exasperation crawled across his features as he made his way to the makeshift bed on the floor. “Nothing. I don’t need anything from you…”

Your brow furrowed and guilt poured into your veins with every step he took. But guilt about what? You weren’t friends. You owed him nothing. This was just a mission - nothing more, and nothing less. You opened your mouth to speak, but Loki was already laying down on the floor with his back to you, clearly uninterested in speaking anymore that night.

The room seemed colder after Loki withdrew. It was an odd, incredibly distracting feeling - one that you hadn’t ever prepared yourself for, and didn’t have the energy to explore at the moment. Sleep was calling out to you, beckoning you closer as it always did whenever the feelings all became too much.

It took so much effort to crawl underneath the three blankets on your bed, and you didn’t even bother changing out of your street clothes before cocooning yourself inside. You thought about everything in your life that had led up to this incredibly excruciating moment, all the choices you’d made and the pain you’d gone through.

All that sacrifice, and where had it gotten you?

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

Sleep did not come easy for you that night. Despite your body exhausted from travel and the gentle bed cradling your wearied soul, you laid awake far longer than you would have expected. So many thoughts flitting uncontrollably across your mind, so many shivers slipping along your frigid bones.

A cold draft seeped in through the seams of the windowsills as the snow poured down outside. You were still awake, curled up on your side with the blankets pulled tight around your narrow frame. Eyelids pulled shut and breath held cautiously, you struggled to keep from shivering too much as you imagined Loki on the floor.

He had to be colder than you were, and part of you wanted to ignore his possible discomfort. He deserved it, didn’t he? Maybe if he was more pleasant to be around, it wouldn’t have to be like this.

But another part of you hoped he’d be so uncomfortable that he’d ask to join you in the bed. Your thoughts returned to when he had slipped his arm around your waist earlier that evening, and you struggled to keep your heart rate in check. It was wrong, you knew it was so wrong because you were supposed to hate him, the villain who had terrorized New York City, and he was supposed to hate you, a simple mortal who was only good for kneeling.

“I know you’re awake.” His voice was a whisper, a small shadow in a room full of empty ones. You slowly opened your eyes, your pupils taking their time to adjust the dark and make out the furniture inside the room. You wanted to sit up, to peer out into the world and see if he looked any different on the floor.

“Can’t sleep. It’s too cold,” you murmured softly, barely able to even pull the blankets tighter around you.

Loki sighed off in the distance. “The power’s been knocked out by the storm, so the heating’s off.”

It was only then that you realized the bedside table lamps had gone out. Too busy retreating inside yourself, the only warm place you had left. “Oh. Hadn’t noticed.”

“I could light the fire now, if you’d like.”

No, you thought. No, that won’t do. That’s not what I want from you. “Why are you being so nice to me now?”

Loki stirred on the floor, presumably shifting underneath his blankets. He could be sitting up right now, looking at you in the dark and you wouldn’t ever know. “Some things are easier to say in the dark.”

You thought for a moment, wondering about how to beckon him closer without risking rejection, or your dignity. This shouldn’t happen; and yet, it never ever would in the light. “Then let’s stay in the dark.”

Loki didn’t respond, and silence descended upon the room again. You couldn’t stop the shivers tormenting your flesh, and your teeth clattered together as you waited for a response. This time, you were sure you were going to freeze to death, despite burning in the waiting, and yearning, and longing that rolled up and down your spine.

“But where there’s light…there’s heat,” Loki finally answered. His voice was closer, much closer now; he’d stood up, and maybe he was right next to the bed. Could you reach out and touch him? Should you?

“I’m doing just fine in the cold.”

Loki chuckled, and you felt the blankets pull away as the mattress dipped under his weight. “You shouldn’t lie to the God of Mischief, dear,” he whispered softly as he settled in behind you, curling his knees behind yours and brushing his nose against your ear.

His body was so very warm, and you were aching for his touch. “I think it’s only fair. You came to my bed, and left your blankets on the floor…” you sassed, unable to help yourself.

“You want me to retrieve them?” Loki’s voice carried the slightest hint of mockery as he started to pull away. You panicked and grabbed his hand, eagerly pulling his arm back around your waist.

“So fussy…” he murmured with a smile, his voice hot against your neck as he settled in to spoon you once more. “You want heat, but not light. You hate me, but you want me close…”

You melted in his arms, and forced out a soft, defiant sigh. “You have no idea what I want…”

“And you do?” He matched your sigh with one of his own, and pressed his hand flat against your stomach, moving languidly over the fabric of your many shirts and jackets. You could feel how much he wanted to move his hand upwards to more stimulating areas, and it was so very thrilling.

“So what do you want, hmm? Why did you tell the innkeeper we were engaged, when that wasn’t our planned cover story?” you whispered, shifting your hips and ass against his crotch.

Loki swallowed a deep groan, and you could feel your own arousal beginning to coat your inner thighs. His hand latched onto your hip, but he didn’t stop you from moving.

“Was it just to piss me off, or was it because you wanted to pretend it was true?” you continued, shifting back against him and hoping the movement would cause your clothing to reveal a little bare skin.

“The…first option. Obviously…” Loki whispered, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear as his hips started to grind against yours.

You swallowed back a moan, trying desperately to ignore his hardened length against the swell of your ass. “Which one of us is the liar now?”

“Gods, do you ever stop talking?!” he hissed as he began rummaging underneath your jacket, eagerly searching for bare skin as he pulled your shirt upwards. His hand finally found your bare hip, and his touch was white hot as he began unbuttoning your jeans.

This time, you didn’t bother hiding the moan, and you twisted ever so slightly underneath the sheets to encourage him to keep going. Your heart beat frantically in your chest and your lips parted, intending to tease him one more time with the brattiest ‘make me’ ever spoken aloud…

And then his fingers dipped beneath the waistband to slip between your slick thighs.

The sound that tumbled from your lips was equally parts gasp and whimper as his fingertips grazed over your soaked clit, and his breath was heavy against your neck. “There we go. That’s more like it…” he whispered breathlessly, slowly dragging his fingers back and forth.

Your thighs drifted apart, as much as they could while trapped inside the unyielding jeans, and your hips rolled eagerly as he pressed harder against your clit. Heat flooded your veins, pooling beneath your cheeks and spilling out of your lungs as you whimpered for more.

Loki slipped his other arm around your shoulder, those fingers curling in your hair as his lips started to kiss and suck along your neck. “So sensitive…have you always been this wet for me?”

“Yes…” you moaned honestly, unable to deny it any longer. You’d say anything to make him keep going, to keep those delicate fingers pressing and massaging and coaxing endless satisfaction from you.

“That’s a shame. We could have been doing this the whole time then…” he groaned heavily, shuddering and sighing along as if he was getting as much pleasure out of this as you were.

“Oh, my god - Loki!” you gasped as he slipped a finger inside, slowly pushing and withdrawing it from your swollen, throbbing pussy. Your hips bucked with his movements, and your fingers curled around your clothing, desperately trying to pull and shift to give him more room to work.

Loki smiled against your neck, and brought his lips up to nibble on your earlobe as he added a second finger. “This feels good, doesn’t it? You’re enjoying what I’m doing to you?”

That familiar coil of release was beginning to contract inside your core, tighter than it ever had before. Frantic whimpers of ecstasy fell from your lips, unashamed and without second-guessing. With your eyes closed and your hips writhing, you moaned louder and louder as your climax approached.

“Careful, little one. Do you want the innkeeper to hear us breaking our vows of chastity?” he taunted in a low, thrumming voice against your ear.

“I don’t care, I don’t care! Just, please - keep going!”

Loki’s fingers moved faster still, skillfully and without hesitation, as if he was completely determined to bring you to Heaven himself. But just as the floodgates were about to open, just as you were about to come so very hard, he cruelly withdrew his fingers.

“What?! No!” Your eyes flew open in shock as the pressure receded and the coil in your belly began to loosen.

Loki gazed at you with a triumphant grin on his face, his emerald eyes blazing in the dark. “Maybe now you’ll be nicer to me…now that you know what I can do to you…” he murmured, bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking your arousal from them.

Your mind reeled uncontrollably, so furious and yet still so turned on by the pleasure he’d brought and subsequently taken from you. “I- I can’t believe you…Wh-why would you’d d-do this…?” you stammered, clumsily pushing yourself up to sitting.

Loki settled on his back, grinning from ear to ear as he watched you struggling to pull your jacket off. “Surely you can. But the real question is…what are you going to do about it, hmm?”

“Oh, my God, I hate you. I hate you so much,” you groaned as you finally freed the zipper and yanked the jacket off your frame. You stumbled out of the bed, thighs trembling violently as you worked to remove the rest of your clothing. You weren’t lying; you did hate him, but goddammit he was so alluring and you desperately needed to come.

Loki watched hungrily as you stripped the rest of your clothing away and climbed back onto the bed, settling yourself over his hips. “Well, this is certainly an interesting strategy,” he whispered as he curled a hand behind your neck and pulled your lips down to his.

You moaned deeply as you kissed him back, violently and passionately moving your lips and tongue with his. You eagerly rolled your bare pussy against his clothed hips, searching for any sort of friction and for a way to tease him more than he’d teased you, to make sure you wouldn’t be denied a second time.

He met your lips just as eagerly, groaning and moaning against your mouth as he moved his hands to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing across your nipples and driving you mad with want. Your hands moved to his jacket, grabbing and struggling to align the zipper with the chain and be able to feel his skin directly against yours.

“Use your magic, undo your clothing…” you whispered frantically against his lips, unable to see or think clearly.

“Absolutely not. Show me how much you want me…” Loki hummed teasingly, shifting his hands downwards to grasp your ass and force you to roll harder against his hips.

You grinned, pleased with his words, and pulled back to sit upright on his hips. With your full weight pressing down, you rolled yourself harder against him, and his back arched in pleasure. When his jaw clenched tight and he rolled his hips with yours, you violently pulled the jacket zipper down and then ripped his shirt open.

“Oh, you are going to pay for that, minx!” Loki hissed angrily as shirt buttons went flying across the room. He pulled his hand away as if preparing to smack your ass, but you ignored it, leaned forward to take his nipple between your lips.

Loki moaned loudly as you sucked, flicking your tongue as he squirmed and writhed beneath you. His eyes closed and both of his hands returned to your ass, and you matched every one of his moans with some of your own. Vindication and pleasure rushed up and down your spine - and then he finally magicked his clothes away.

You found yourself pressed directly against the length of his throbbing cock, and you both moaned loudly in unison at the intimate contact. He wasn’t even inside you yet, but you couldn’t believe how amazing it felt already. You shifted to bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent and basking in the warmth of his naked body as your hips gyrated together.

The blizzard outside was forgotten, the cold air nipping at your bare skin was no longer a concern, and in that moment you couldn’t remember why you ever hated him. He whimpered in your ear and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist as your hips writhed in unison, and soon that coil was wrapping itself around every fiber of your being again.

There was nothing anyone could do to stop you from coming this time; in fact, Loki actively encouraged you to keep going through a heated, growling voice. “Yes, take it from me. Let it all out, I’ve got you…” he commanded, his fingers pressing harder into your flesh.

The orgasm ripped through you, searing every nerve ending as you thrashed on top of him. Your fingers and toes curled beyond what you thought was ever possible, and your muscles kept tensing and relaxing, grinding and rolling in a desperate attempt to keep this pleasure flowing.

Loki held on tightly, groaning and gasping right along with you until you finally started to come back down. One by one your muscles relaxed until you lay limp, breathing heavily between parted lips on top of him. You were finally sated, with no thoughts passing through you any longer; maybe now you could finally fall asleep…

Satisfied that you had gotten yours - and the better of him - you started to roll away, but his arms tightened around your body, keeping you on top of him. “Oh, I don’t think so, darling. I’m not done with you yet…”

Your eyes fluttered back open as Loki adjusted your body on top of his, and before you could muster the strength to tease him again, he was pushing himself inside you. It felt incredible, like his body was molded to fit inside yours, and you couldn’t believe he’d somehow figured out what your favorite position was.

A deep whimper of pleasure was all you could manage as you took him in, his cock pulsating inside you and filling you entirely. Loki moved his hands back down to grip your ass as he began to thrust upwards, his thighs tensing and pelvis tilting to hit your sweet spot. You shifted your knees away from his hips and hovered above them as he drove himself into you over and over again.

Almost immediately you were on the verge of coming a second time, and you cried out his name as every nerve ending fired off in rapid succession. Loki’s thrusts were relentless as he came apart with you, his fingers digging into your flesh and hips bucking wildly and uncontrollably beneath you.

You clung to each other the entire time, your minds wracked with pleasure and bodies spent until you were both just panting and laying peacefully in each other’s arms. When clarity returned, you had no idea how to react; should you push him away? Should you say something rude? Was he going to beat you to either of those options first?

The deepest, most vulnerable part of you just wanted to stay there, lingering in the bliss you both had created with each other. You’d never had a partner this exquisite before, and you didn’t know what you were going to do when you returned home - let alone the next morning.

You nestled in against his chest and listened to the sound of his heart beating - steadily, calmly, peacefully. Loki kept his arms around you, and his fingers ran through your hair, gently massaging your scalp as he held you close.

“I’ve got a lot of amends to make,” Loki said quietly, his voice tinged with melancholy.

You blinked and cautiously brought your hand to his chest, placing it soothingly over his heart. “What do you mean?”

“Earlier you asked why I was here. I’ve got a lot of amends to make,” he repeated, placing his hand over yours. “For New York, for the pain I’ve caused my father and brother, for letting myself be - ”

Loki swallowed hard and shook his head, and could almost feel the regret swelling in his eyes. There was something important he wasn’t sharing; maybe he didn’t know how, or maybe he didn’t know if he could trust you yet. Something deep inside you longed to earn that trust, something you didn’t quite understand.

“You don’t need to say it if you don’t want to. But…I’d be willing to listen, whenever you are ready,” you replied sincerely, hoping he’d believe you. And then you continued on, to make a joke and hopefully lighten the mood. “First, though, I think we need to agree to a cease-fire. In the spirit of Christmas, and whatnot.”

Loki smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I knew you’d be the first one to concede…” he murmured playfully. “But I’m feeling generous. Let’s just call it a draw…”

Your mind reeled with possibilities, unsure of what to say that wouldn’t make anything worse or ruin the moment. “Really? I thought your hatred of me was permanent…” you answered cautiously.

Loki shifted his hand to gently grasp your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “I don’t hate you. You just…bewilder and confound me…”

His gaze was soft and warm, and it almost took your breath away. If he was this delicate with someone he found this irritating, how tender could he be with someone he actually loved? And could he ever actually love you someday?

You forced a smile, and traced his cheekbones with your fingertips, hoping he couldn’t read your thoughts. “I don’t know. Maybe all the teasing and insulting was what made this so good?” you murmured playfully.

Loki returned your smile, although there was a hint of sadness you couldn’t quite place etched upon his features. “I suppose we’ll see what happens in tomorrow’s light, won’t we?”

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

Click here to be added to my Loki fic tag list! 💚

964 notes · View notes

cheriiyaya · 2 months

Text

Darling can I be your favorite?

YAN!Nikolai, dazai, and Fyodor x Fem!reader

You're the girl of their dreams, so why would they let you slip away so easily?

Contents: UNDER 15 DNI !!, obsessive behavious, yandere DC, manipulation, isolation, physical abuse+blood in nikolai's part from the yanderes pov, I do not condone any of the behaviours shown in this fic; these are not examples of healthy relationships or behaviours.

A/N: ...well this is my first yan fic and my first time writing for nikolai so his part is kinda short and maaybe ooc...hope it's good tho !!

Dazai swears it wasn't supposed to be like this.

Your relationship with dazai started out pretty normal,

if normal was a thing with dazai osamu. but he always tried his best to be the best lover you could have, spoiling you in affection and sweet words. You trusted him, and for the most part he allowed his heart to open and let you inside.

But the heart of the former demon prodigy was like a Venus fly trap, luring you inside with sweetness before it cages you in and devours you whole.

Sweet words twisted into cruel lies and his gentle affection turned into manipulative games. And like the fool you were you fell neatly like puzzle pieces into them.

It wasn't his fault, dazai told himself whenever you'd cry or become frustrated.

Whenever you cried he'd grasp you in his arms, cooing softly and telling you in the nicest way to shut up. That this was what was best for you.

How could he let you out where he couldn't see you? What if you got hurt? What if you left him and stabbed him in the back? You were his everything, a precious thing. Don't people lock their precious metals away from prying eyes, so they can never be stolen?

Everything he did was for you, why couldn't you see that? You were naive, so naive and so trusting.

You couldn't even deny it, seeing how you'd run back to him every single time he promised it'd all stop and it'd go back to normal.

"hush, c'mon now bella', don't look at me like that...I'm doing this all for you, I promise it'll get better from here, okay...? Don't worry that pretty head of yours about anything anymore."

Fyodor's relationship with you has always been a little...off but you never thought too much of it.

Sure, sometimes he's overly protective, or he always needs to know where you are, but he's always considered your emotions.

Or you told yourself that.

First it was limiting who you could go out with without him following close behind. Then it was no contact with other men he deemed "dangerous" to you, and they'd mysteriously go missing soon after your interactions with them. Then it was no leaving the house without him, among other controlling rules he imposed.

Even throughout this, fyodor never stopped to assure you that it was all your fault. It wasn't his fault he was such a a possessive man.

You were such a pretty thing, and pretty things draw ugly eyes that wish to snatch them away. It wasn't his fault you were so alluring, what was he supposed to do?

If only you'd never caught his eye.

You didn't need anyone else, fyodor would tell you. Wasn't he enough? He gave you everything you wanted and you'd still thrash around and scream at him like a ungrateful child.

If you ever tried to leave him, fyodor wouldn't be concerned. Afterall, he knows where you are at all times (those cameras around yokohama have another use other than tracking his enemies, you see)

In a few hours time, you'd be back in his loving arms as he told you how much of an idiot you were for not trusting him.

"See, dear? It's useless to try and leave me. This is what's best for you, and you do know that, don't you?...Come here, stop crying angel, this is your fault after all."

Nikolai was quite upfront with his love for you.

Which is why as soon as your guard was down he snatched you away from the worlds keen, prying eyes. Locked away like a bird in a cage, what hypocritical actions from a man that preached freedom.

This was freedom for him, however. of course this was wrong! But knowing this and dissociating himself with what was widely considered a moral "evil" is the best way to prove ones freedom, no?

You felt suffocated-not only was the snowy-haired man always around you, stuck to the hip, but his affection was certainly unusual.

Huh? Someone made you uncomfortable? Don't worry, their severed tongue will be delivered right to your doorstep!

How you wish it was Nikolai's head instead.

Nikolai doesn't like to, but hes not against hurting you for his selfish purposes.

In fact, there was something so pretty about you when you were looking up at him with big, glossy eyes and your skin stained with welts and bruises-maybe even a spattering of scarlet blood. You're so tempting like that, how could he not smother you in his love, however twisted it may be?

You were his, and his only after all. Why are you resisting?

"Eh? Dove, why're you crying? Ohhh, c'mon now baby, you gotta listen to me now and this'll all go smoothly, you'll see!"

Tagging: @aureatchi @little-miss-chaoss @hanging-wisteria @atzuhi @lovesick-fairy @adoredazai @ravencincaide @dazaikinniess @nyx-prodigy @himikoslove @teddirika @hyacinth-venom @kaitoluver @dydrem

555 notes · View notes

xtreklx · 9 months

Text

You're hurt ~ Ninja Turtles x reader

Headcanon: Bayverse Turtles x reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: SFW, angst + a little fluff, mention of injury

A/N: really appreciate all of the love shown to my last headcanon post, so I thought I'd do another one! switching up the tone tho and doing a little bit of angst ~ hope you enjoy!

__________

~Leonardo~

we all know that Leo probably has the best handle on his emotions of all the turtle brothers

so when he sees your injured form, on the outside he probably looks a healthy amount of concerned

but inside he is absolutely going beserk

like amber alert sounds going off in his brain fr

he asks Donnie what to do as they quickly tend to your injury but as they work, there is a ringing in his ears

when you wake up from being unconscious, the first thing he does is let out a big sigh of relief, and then "how're you holding up, princess? can I do anything for you?"

and when you smile softly back at him and say "I'm okay now, love, I promise" his heart is going to shatter and then put itself back together again all at once

he is so quick to do anything and everything to alleviate your pain

while you are healing, of course he takes the main shift in caring for you

he is constantly refilling your water bottle, bringing you food or tea, changing out your bandages

he'll even sit on the chair next to your bed and read to you, just to take your mind off of any pain you may be experiencing

our guy in blue is very motherly and nurturing in that way

but lowkey, he will take any chance he gets to step out of the room because of how much it pains him to see you like this

he'll lean against the wall outside of the lab/infirmary and rub his temples, furrowing his brow ridge and holding in tears

his most precious, delicate flower, trampled by the cruel, outside world

but he won't let you see his pre-grief; you only see him with a smile on his face

it's only when you start making visible progress with your injury that he starts to feel okay again

because the physical proof that you are going to recover reassures him that he is not going to lose you any time soon

~Raphael~

omg when Big Red saw you injured... his world literally came to a halt

like record scratch type of halt

his biggest fear in the whole wide world is losing his family, and you are a part of his family now

so he is simply beside himself with fear and worry and is absolutely desperate and angry until he knows that you're going to make it

he will be snapping at whoever is tending to your wounds, if anyone tries to pull him away from you he WILL FIGHT THEM

he is very not okay and very emotional

once he gets a moment alone, he will definitely let the emotions take over and cry to himself

when you first wake up, he will say or do whatever he can to make you feel tough, because he doesn't want you feeling weak while down for the count

"damn, you really showed 'em, huh tiger? you shoulda seen the guy, he was limpin' away after the stunt you pulled."

swears up and down that he will kill whoever touched you, and even though raph is a violent guy, he's not a killer. but he 100% means what he says

however, a big part of him is going to blame himself. for not being with you, for letting you get in the way of danger, for even allowing you to be a part of a life like this to begin with.

but you can read the big guy like a book. so you give him a knowing smile and tenderly reassure him: "I wouldn't do a thing differently. I love you, and I want to be with you no matter what."

you got him fucked up, that's for sure

and while you are healing he is in no way shape or form leaving your side for a SECOND

he will fall asleep next to your infirmary bed, he will eat meals next to you, he will do whatever Donnie tells him to, but he will not be able to physically bear leaving your side

man's top quality is his loyalty, and while his fears or insecurities may get the best of him every once in a while, he's in it too deep now, and he'll do anything to be by your side

~Donatello~

as we expect, Donnie is able to keep his head on straight when he sees that you're injured

he knows that he has to have his wits about him because he's the only qualified medic of the group

but deep, deep down he is in full-on panic mode

Don keeps different groups of tabs open in his brain (like on a google chrome browser), and while one of the groups is flipping through every medical textbook he has ever read, another group is just going "Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N--"

over and over again like a computer system error

his brothers are trying to help him tend to your injuries but he is extremely strict with whatever they do and has a very hard time letting go of the reins

as he's talking to them, he looks concentrated and steady, but his voice will not stop cracking

once he has decided that you are stable and going to be okay is when he breaks down

he's definitely also a crier, and can't help but think about how he almost lost you and can't function without you

but he gets a hold of himself, continues to chronically monitor your vitals and pain levels, and then immediately gets to work on a new invention to keep you safe

when you first wake up, now that he's feeling a little more confident with your condition, he'll say something silly to cheer you up, like "well hello to my newest little experiment"

and you'll smile back at him with a joking "hi, Doctor Dee", insisting that you're fine as he asks you a bunch of analytical questions about your symptoms

after he's done playing doctor, he'll just sit next to you for a moment in silence, looking apprehensive

but you know exactly what he's thinking, so you say "you're my hero, Donatello. you know that, don't you?"

he gets so blushy and flustered at that, but has the biggest smile on his face

~Michelangelo~

surprisingly, when Mikey sees you hurt, he goes quiet

you would think that with our goofball in orange, his reaction would be super over-the-top and dramatic

no, mans goes dead silent

he never gave much thought to what his fears in life were before this, but he has realized that one of his biggest fears has just come true

he asks Donnie what he needs to do, and he doesn't think he has ever sounded more desperate in his life

he does his tasks immediately and with the utmost attention to detail, no protests and no questions asked

his brothers have never seen him like this before in their lives: so focused and concerned and quiet

they'll tell you about it later, as a testament to how much the guy lives and breathes for you

once Don has confirmed that you are stable and going to be okay, he lets out the biggest sigh of relief and overall goes back to his old self

when you wake up from unconsciousness, you're a little confused as to what happened, and he just goes "you got hurt on your way down from heaven, angel!"

he does everything he can to comfort you and make you smile and relieve your pain while you're recovering

he'll bring his speaker in and play you some of your favorite songs, sometime putting on elaborate performances to get you to laugh

he'll try and cuddle with you in your hospital bed and whine when Donnie protests

"awe come on, Doctor Dee! help a dude out a little!"

but he'll be successful whenever Donnie is sleeping or too engrossed in one of his other projects, and he'll lay next to you and stroke your hair

but whenever he remembers that moment when he thought he had lost you, he will go dark for a moment or two

and he will do whatever it takes to ensure that it never happens again.

1K notes · View notes