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je-sus-callsmedaddy · 8 minutes
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candle light with remus lupin for your eclipse event! maybe something where he's mean but also does good good aftercare? LUV UR WRITIING <3
thank youuu, and thank you for requesting! really hope you like it!!
pairing: Remus Lupin x reader tags / warnings: established relationship, smut (NSFW, MDNI), fluff word count: 3k part of my 1k celebration!
You are exhausted. You’re tense; you’re tired as you come home after what’s felt like a  week, not a day. Too much to do, too much pressure, too many decisions. You feel them in your body, weighing you down. The first thing you do as you enter your bedroom you share with Remus is strip down to your knickers. You toss your bra away with perhaps a little bit too much resentment and find your favourite of Remus’s jumpers you like to borrow. It’s too big on either of you.
You head to your kitchen, putting on a record so sad it’s somehow consoling as you do. As you start making yourself a comforting cup of tea, you hear the door behind you. 
“Hi, lovely.” 
It’s his voice that’s lovely, and just the sound of it has already begun thawing your tension. 
“Hey,” you say back as you feel him approach behind you, his arms coming around your middle. They’re warm and firm, and you sink back into his body. You feel him breathe in your hair, kiss the side of your head. “Remus,” you whine into him. He hums into your neck in response, placing a soft kiss there. His squeezes you tightly, his hands bunching up the jumper you’re wearing. “Hmm. Sad music, cosy jumper, earthy tea, whiny voice,” he lists sympathetically. “Someone’s had a long day.”
“You’ve no idea.” His large hands come to your shoulders, kneading deeply. You squirm at the intensity, pain and pleasure dancing inextricably. At a knot a bit too sensitive for his ministrations, you flinch out of his grasp and step back, turning to face him. You expect to be met by his beguiling brown eyes, but they’re look down. His head cocks to the side appreciatively. You realize he’s admiring your bare legs and chuckle. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.” “Doesn’t mean I like it any less,” he retorts, voice gruffer. He looks you up and down with an intensity that dissipates any playfulness in your mood. You realize how badly you want him to take you, to make you leave the day behind you and completely envelop you in the here and now… and the pleasure it could hold. 
Remus can’t read your mind, though, and being the doting boyfriend he is, he comes to hold you gently again, stroking your back, trying to comfort you. “Let’s get you relaxed, huh, baby?” he says, kissing your forehead. “Yeah,” you whisper.
“What do you want to do? Want to go straight to bed? Watch something? We could read together? Same book or different, you choose.” He’s already taken over preparing your tea, seemingly completely distracted away from your body. 
His suggestions and demeanour make you think maybe he’s not in the mood, Remus never being shy to tell you when he is, so you worry maybe it’s not the best moment to voice your honest desires. 
“I don’t know, whatever; you choose.” You sound a bit defeated, and he looks over at you at your tone. “No, you should. I’m happy with anything if it’s good for you, really,” he says as he turns back to the easy work of pouring the hot water. He’s always this sweet, almost always defers to doing whatever you feel like doing. 
It’s no fault of his, but your looming tiredness, your sudden heat, it all makes you snappy. “I said I don’t care, Rem. Why do I always have to be the one to choose everything? Sometimes I’m tired, okay? And I already said you can choose.” The mugs are forgotten, his attention fully on you at this. “Woah, what’s up?” He leans back on the counter, arms crossed a bit defensively, but eyes all concern. 
“Nothing,” you sigh. “Nothing, I’m sorry.” You turn away and busy yourself with anything you can find, tidying up mindlessly. “Hey, c’mon, love, what’s up?” His voice is slightly harder, and as he asks, he turns you to face him, his hands firmly holding your shoulders. His eyes look searchingly into yours, but your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his hands on you and the sound of his deep voice. You bite your lip and whimper very very softly.
His hands immediately leave you, and it’s urgent when he rushes out, “Woah, did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to, baby; I just wanted to talk. You alright?”
You nod and whine “Remus” again, stepping toward him and looking into his eyes. You grab his hands in yours and place them back on your body. You bring one to your face and lean into it, put the other on your hip and squeeze your hand over his. 
He’s watching you closely, letting you guide him. 
His proximity and his touch, even like this, heat you up, and your body pushes you to honesty.
“I don’t want to sleep, or  read, or any of that. And I don’t want to choose anything or think about anything else. I want you, Rem. I just want you. Please.”
His eyebrows shoot up, and ever so slowly he starts moving his own hands on you, yours still hovering above them. 
His touch makes you melt, and your eyes shut. You exhale loudly as his hand grabs your face a bit harder. His thumb strokes, pushing into the skin of your cheek. You open your eyes and meet his. They’re looking at yours searchingly, but upon seeing the look you’re giving him when they connect with yours, something clicks in Remus. You register it in his eyes as they shift in what seems like one blink from keen observation to piercing intensity. 
He pulls your face to his forcefully, devouring your mouth. He’s eating up your immediate whimpers, tilting your head with his hands on either side of your face, pushing your tongue with his and licking into your mouth. You surrender completely and let him guide your ardent kiss. 
Soon, his hand juts your head back with no warning, tugging your hair, and his mouth moves from yours to your jaw, kissing sloppily until he reaches your neck, where he plants a cruel bite. You yelp, and he licks over it soothingly, but his voice is rough as he asks, “This what you want?” His mouth sucks your neck harshly, and his hands push under your jumper and grip the flesh of your hips so hard your body sways with his motions. 
“Fuuuck, Rem, yes, pleeease.” “Yes what?” he snaps. “Yes, I want this. I want you to touch me like this.” 
“Good,” he utters matter-of-factly. 
He tugs the jumper over your head and throws it aside then maneuvers your body with his strong hands on your hips. 
“Turn around,” he commands. And you do, though his hands flip you without your having much say in it. 
His arms wrap around you, and he kneads your breasts roughly. He handles you so harshly that you yelp again in pleasured pain. 
Remus presses his body up behind your now almost completely naked one. You feel his breath on your neck and shoulder, and you shiver as sensation shoots down your spine. You’re very pleasantly surprised to also feel his already hard cock on your arse even through his trousers. You push back into it and grind. He groans in reaction then chuckles gruffly into your ear. 
“Fuck, you’re desperate, huh?” He squeezes your tits and thrusts his hips. His voice low and ominously even, he tells you, “You know, baby, all you had to do was tell me you wanted me to fuck you.” You whimper; he chuckles again. “Yeah? You want to get fucked, pretty girl?” You nod wordlessly. “I wanted to fuck you as soon as I came in here and saw your gorgeous thighs.” Never breaking contact with your skin, his hands slide down your body and squeeze the outsides of your thighs. Then they cup your arse and squeeze even tighter, jiggling it in his rough grip. “You looked so fucking sexy. But I thought you were tired. Silly me, huh, not realizing how you wanted me to take care of you. This how you want me to take care of you?” 
“Yees.” “Hmm.” 
Your head is lolled back on his shoulder, but he pushes you suddenly forward. “Bend over.” You do. The kitchen counter is cold on your tits; his hand is hot on your back, pushing you down. 
His other hand yanks your knickers down and rubs roughly through your folds. You’re soaked. “Dirty girl,” he chuckles. “Wanting to get fucked this badly.”
Without ado, he pushes two fingers into you. You scream at the breach, at the first hot graze of your inner walls. He rubs them around then curves them toward your sweet spot. His pace is immediately punishing, and it’s not too many thrusts later that he adds a third finger. Your cunt is squelching as his fingers fuck you. His hand on your back moves up toward your neck and massages your shoulder as he holds you in place.
He keeps going, pushing so hard the fronts of your thighs smack the counter with each thrust, so fast that it’s hard to discern the increasing shaking of your thighs from the motions of his hand.
You whine, and turn your face into the counter to quiet it. His hand at your neck yanks your hair to lift your face. “Uh-uh, pretty thing. I’ve had enough of you being quiet tonight. If I’m going to fuck you this good, you’re going to let me hear how I make you feel.” You whimper involuntarily, doing nothing to filter your loud reaction. “Better.”
Your thighs are seriously shaking now, and you’re tightening deliciously. You’re getting close. 
His hand stops and pulls out of you, the other also releasing his grip on your hair. Your resulting whine sounds almost like you’re crying. 
“Fuck, baby, relax,” Remus laughs. You hear the zipper of his trousers, hear the soft pat of clothes falling to the floor. His foot kicks yours into a wider stance suddenly. Then you feel his hard cock prodding at your warm, wet entrance. One of his hands grips your hip harshly as he guides himself in. He’s slightly slower as he does, but he pushes all the way in without stopping. When he’s completely inside you, you whimper again at the fullness and barely hear him whisper “fuck.” 
Just a second later, he’s thrusting; a few seconds later, it’s already rocking your entire body from the intensity. His grip tightens, and you know you’ll admire a bruise there tomorrow. His other hand grabs your shoulder for better leverage as he pistons in and out of you. 
You’d already been so close that at the fucking he’s giving you, you feel close to the brink before even adjusting entirely to the position. Your hands flat on the counter, uselessly attempting to grip something, give you some stability as your body spasms jarringly. 
“Fuck, already?” Remus pants. His tone seems sincerely surprised, not teasingly so. 
He moves his hand to your other hip, vice-like grip pulling your arse onto his body in time with each fast, forward thrust of his hips. 
He’s the one to moan loudly this time as your walls clench him. His prolonged moan sounds like it’s strangled in his throat as you clench again and again, but though it’s clearly wrecking him, the only effect on his pace is its increased brutality. 
You start cumming in earnest, crying through it, shaking hard. Remus fucks you through most of it, but toward the very end, you feel him pull all the way out quickly, the absence jarring and gaping. His fingers pick up what his cock was just doing, and the sudden re-intensity gives you a second peak. He keeps going until your clenching cunt has mostly relaxed then slowly removes his fingers. 
Your body feels heavy and limp, its only movement the harsh up and down of your heavy panting. When Remus’s hands maneuver you to lift your torso and turn you around, you’re very little help. You feel unstable on your legs, but Remus safely holds you up. “Why’d you —” you start, your voice an exhausted whisper.
“Shut up,” he says, words hard, tone soft. He’s panting too, looking sweaty and spent. “Jump.” You’re confused, but your body heeds his command as his hands lift your arse up till you’re sitting on the counter. His hands grab the backs of your thighs and lift them up and out. You fall back slightly at the shift and end up resting on your forearms looking up at him. You rest your foot on the counter when his hand drops your leg so he can use it to guide himself back inside you.
He slips in easily but takes a moment to settle once he does. His eyes closed, chin lifted, chest rising and falling heavily. He looks so beautiful. 
When he’s gathered himself, he shifts as close to you as he can and guides you up toward him too. Your legs wrap around his waist, your arms support you as you hold on to the counter’s edge. His support you, too, wrapped around your waist.  
His forehead comes to yours, and he kisses you sloppily as his hips start thrusting again, more slowly this time. One arm still anchoring you, his other hand comes to your face, holding it as he keeps kissing you. His breathing picks up again as his hips do.
Face still close to yours, he confesses, “I know you wanted it rough, but I really felt like looking at you when I came this time.” “Fuck, Rem.” You kiss him hard and clench him harder. He groans and picks up his pace, clearly getting tired but chasing an approaching high. 
His hand slips between your bodies, pushing you the slightest angle away from him so he can rub at your clit. Your cunt spasms at the sensation, and you hear his breath catch. 
He presses harder, establishes a rhythm, gradually making it faster. You’re close again at his adept touch, and you chant his name desperately as you shake your hips and push over your edge. His strangled moan tells you he’s cumming before the feel of it between your legs does, his dark, aching eyes on you the whole time. Once he starts slowing down, you wrap your arms tightly around him and nestle into his neck. He kisses you everywhere he can reach: your cheek, your neck, your shoulder. 
When he pulls apart from you, you shiver. You’re covered in sweat, and as he pulls his softening cock out of you, the wetness there is even worse. You wrap your arms around yourself and clench your thighs together. 
“Here, baby,” Remus says, running for a clean towel, dampening it before standing in front of you again. Very gently, he pushes your thighs apart again, stroking one soothingly as he cleans between your legs. When he’s done, he wraps you in a hug to bring you down off the counter, supporting you while you find you balance after your legs being rendered jelly.
“C’mere.” He holds you as he walks you to your bedroom. “You want to shower?” “‘M too tired. Can I shower in the morning?” “‘Course, lovely. Whatever you want.” “Ugh.” “What is it?” “I need to pee.” Remus giggles at you as he guides you toward the bathroom instead of the bed. 
“I can’t pee with you staring at me like that,” you complain when he just leans on the sink as you try to go. “I’m not staring; I’m admiring.” “Ok, I can’t pee with you admiring me like that.” He laughs again and turns around dramatically. He takes the opportunity to clean himself up.
You do what you need to do but stay sitting on the toilet even after you’ve finished, feeling too tired to get up. Remus dampens your hand towel and squats in front of you. He dabs at your face gently, freshening it up. You close your eyes at the soothing sensations of being cleaner and of being doted on. When he’s done your whole face and neck, he pecks your nose before getting up. “You planning on sleeping here or what?” he teases. “‘M tired,” you moan. “C’mon, lovely girl,” he chuckles, yanking you up. You finish cleaning up then follow him to bed, plopping down onto it. He hasn’t stopped giggling at your antics. “Want clothes?” “Just knickers please.” He tosses you a clean pair, slips into his own pants, then falls into bed with you. He shifts your body into a reasonable position and pulls the covers over you. Resting on his side, propped up on his elbow, his other hand starts stroking your bare skin lovingly. “You okay, sweet girl?” “Hmmm.” He kisses your forehead. “I know you’re sleepy, but just tell me if you’re okay. Nothing hurts or anything?” “No, Rem, I feel great.” You smile up at him without opening your eyes. You can’t see him looking down at you like you’re the most precious person in the world. To him, you are. “’S like my whole body is sinking and floating at the same time.” He chuckles adoringly and kisses you again, cuddling up beside you. “Good.” “Hmm.” You’re sinking into sleep but whisper giddily, “Thanks for fucking me.” He barks a full laugh. As it quiets to back to his giggle, he brings his face to yours. He nuzzles your nose with his and kisses your cheek. “Always happy to take care of my girl.” He kisses you again. “It was fun. Good for you? What you wanted?” “Mmhmm,” you nod. “Just what I wanted.” You use what little energy you have left to shift closer to him. “Now I want your cuddles.” “Always happy to take care of my girl,” he says again, more softly this time, as he wraps his arms around you snugly and kisses your forehead. 
You settle into each other, and the rise and fall of his breathing, the graze of his petting fingertips are the last things you feel as you drift into sleep.
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{seducing the prince }
Jacaerys x F!Lannister!Reader
Summary: Jacaerys knew he would have to marry for duty, he didn’t know his duty would be to you.
Trigger warnings:‼️Coitus and jacaerys a whipped man playing hard to get 😘😘😘😘
Special thanks to my babe/beta reader @luckytoucan 💗💗💗💗
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Jacaerys always hated you. Hated how close you were to the Aegon and aemond in his childhood. How you always preferred their company over his. He tried so hard to make you notice him, to make you perhaps feel and inch of what he felt for you. Each time those dreams get shattered by the sound of your laugh with helaena and daeron over him. He didn’t fail to see how Aegon and aemond had indoctrinated you with hatred against him and his brothers. He had to hate you, hate your pride and pettiness, the snobby Lannister attitude you held. He saw you as one of the Queen’s party hoping for Aegon the elder to ascend the throne over his mother and him.
But sure enough that did not happen. Queen Rhaenyra ascended the throne and when jacaerys turned sixteen named his heir to the crown infront of all the lords and ladies of the court. He would forget you, forget how you looked walking through the gardens with his aunt, he would forget the way you danced, the way you haunted his very soul. Jacaerys felt himself grow mad with the constant thoughts of you blurring his mind turning it into a slurry. He needed to get away from you and the clasp you had of him. He needed you gone from his sight and away so he could just lose memory of you entirely. Over the years your cruel teasing did not weaken, often throwing him a flirty smile knowing damn well that nothing on this earth would ever get you to marry a bastard, crown prince or not, you took pleasure in complimenting as to how strong he had grown. Every ‘compliment’ you threw was an insult in disguise.
You can only imagine the shock he felt when his mother there queen Rhaenyra betrothed him to you years later, his stomach flipped upside down, in excitement? Fear? Annoyance? He looked over to you and there you were smiling at him as though you held the upper hand.
“You are not upset by this? Not even in the slightest?” He asked surprised as he grew more frustrated at the fact you seemed so alright with this.
“If i marry you I will be queen someday, surely you are just an addition that comes with the arrangement” you said sipping from your wine, amused by his reactions. Of course, he should have expected this from a Lannister, no matter how pretty they come you cannot change their nature. Always so smug, he wanted to make you feel the way he did. He was so helplessly in love with you but deemed your lannister self incapable of love, too smug to even care to feel a thing. Now as your betrothed he found himself at an advantage..
You on the other side always tried to to revert back to the past and change the way you behaved towards him. You quite literally tried to charm your way into his heart but all your actions seemed to be of no avail. He always shut down every smile with a polite nod, every kind word you said was met with his disdain, he quite literally at this point assumed your whole existence as a mockery towards him. You believed your betrothal would soften his heart up but instead it hardened it. The man could not seem to bear your presence, always growing agitated.
You attempted to win him over with gifts, with kisses which he averted from, with physical affection holding his hand and batting your pretty eyes at him, he showed no reaction to these. You often attempted to flirt with him in high valyrian which he had perfected, instead of appreciating your effort, he took the time to correct your pronunciation and grammatical errors.
You embroidered for him. You attempted to melt his heart by talking of the future where the two of you would have little children. Nothing worked, the most infuriating part was that with all the time you spent swaying him you felt yourself grow more fond of him yourself.
Whenever jacaerys sparred with Nettles, a supposed dragon seed brought to court because of her fierce skills in combat, you felt your heart feel the pang of anger and sadness. He seemed more fond of his uncles over you at this point and you felt absolutely helpless. You wanted to leave the past behind and win his affection. Perhaps that is not what fate wanted for the two of you. You walked away from the sparring ground and jacaerys noticed your absence in his mind.
The whole court was not blind to this tug of war game between the two of you, the jealousy that lingered between other possible lovers the two of you had. His brothers teased him incessantly over how he kept your embroidery in a special box in the cupboard and how he blew up if anyone attempted to touch what you gave him. Jacaerys loved the attempts you made towards him to make up for your past behaviour, he loved every moment of it. Every smile of yours would replay over and over in his mind once it was over. Thoughts of future children with you sent his blood rush to his nether regions, to see you carry his children.
He would often dress up far better than he usually did for sparring lessons in case you’d visit..or rather he’d dress down, discarding his sweaty shirt only if you were in the vicinity.
Nothing bothered Jacaerys more than seeing you with his uncles, at princess helaena’s name day party. His angered expression not was one he attempted to hide. you could feel his glare towards his uncle Daeron, a man of the same age as him. Daeron was mischievous and cheeky who also like everyone enjoyed annoying jacaerys as the two of them always saw each other as rivals even though they shared a wet nurse. Jacaerys could take it no longer dragging you away from dinner, his hand lingered on your arm, holding you firmly but not enough to hurt you.
“How many times must you repeat this song and dance?” He hissed pushing your back into the cold pillar “why can’t you leave me be?” He asked, his hands holding yours as you struggled in his hold, his hands had covered the entirety of your wrist as though it was nothing.
“Can you not see? How blind can you be?” You asked in an angry tone. His grasp did not leave your hands as he suddenly turned you around pressing you against the rough pillar wall pinning your hands to your lower back as you felt his figure croon over you. “Why do the gods have to make me put up with you” you felt his hot breath on your ear and the heat of his body radiating your own. You were glad he could not see your flustered face.
“I’ve only ever tried to get your attention” you voiced out, on hearing your voice he pressed you further into the bricks. You could hear him chuckle.
“So you throw yourself at my uncle?” jacaerys answered his grip tightening around your wrists. He felt conflicted a part of him died to believe your words, that you wanted his attention, the other ran his imagination wild seeing you with Daeron in uncompromising positions. “ah yes, they’re true born and i am..” he trailed off his hands abruptly let your wrist go. “And what do they tell you that it is a pity that your beauty is being wasted on me, a strong prince as you once said” his voice echoed in the empty corridors, he had lost all awareness of his surrounding.
“No! I did not say that! I have played very trick in the book, I have used every tactic anything to get you to like me and the only time you seem to ever even look at me is if I am with another. You think I like parading myself in this tight gown for no reason? Have you even seen my dress or have you been too caught up in your hobby of making me your enemy”
“Yes I have seen the way you look!” He answered angrily. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked at you.
“Then tell me how do I look!” You yelled back you felt tears if frustration bubble at the rims of your eyes, you looked away quickly would this how the entirety of the marriage would go? With you begging for him to notice you? You needed him to notice you at this point, want was no longer sufficient.
“Beautiful” jacaerys said the words he had held in his mouth for so long “So beautiful that if I take one glance it’ll never be enough, if I get one taste that too would not suffice, my greed, my lust is insatiable for you” you knew you had him then, he was yours and yours to keep. Your efforts weren’t in vain.
“You do not hate me then?” You asked surprised as his eyes watched you intently at your every move, what were you planning now..
“Oh make no mistake I do, I’ve always hated you. You’ve always played me as though I was a game. I am not my lady I would have remember that I am the crown prince of the seven kingdoms, my parentage does not matter because I am a Targaryen” he said he turned to leave one more.
You walked towards him and grabbed his face in yours, he admitted that he thought you beautiful and in your eyes that was a victory in itself, this was your chance to seduce your brunette prince as you closed the distance between your faces by planting a gentle kiss on his lips, in hopes it would sway his feelings about you. He gasped against your mouth feeling your lips press against his so perfectly. His hands instantly wrapped around your waist feeling the fabric of your gown crumbling it in his hands, “you shouldn’t hate me, sweet prince” you teased him, habits die hard. As his lips fought your own for dominance, his right hand reaching up to hold your face as he drank you in, the moment your lips parted for a gasp his hot tongue found its way into yours, your mouths in total sync, it was hard to keep your mind sharp now, just as he did you grace into your senses.
That’s how you found yourself with your dress ripped to shreds and your leg propped on his shoulders as he thrusted into you sharply, he made no attempt to stop any time soon, you gasped and moaned and claws at his chest anything to make you feel as though you had control over your betrothed. He drove you mad stopping just when you were about to peak, he denied you of cumming over and over leaving you teary eyed moaning as he brought you such pleasure and pain. If he denied you once more you felt as though you would collapse from the sheer need.
This was your punishment for everything you had ever done to him, every smirk, every mocking word, you felt yourself bend in ways you never thought possible. Jacaerys felt up the fat of your thighs as he leaned in the two of you in to fetch a passion filled kiss. You felt his heavy length press into your sensitive spot and he smirked on seeing you squirm under him as so, release was a mirage so close yet so far. “I should not let you cum, you do not deserve it” he said kissing the leg that sat on his shoulder.
“Tell me how I can win your forgiveness my prince” You moaned out feeling him hitting that one spot that made your head go hazy as you looked to at him with lust drunken eyes.
Jacaerys smirked “there’s nothing you can do” he grunted out letting moans of his escape as his eyes shut from the intensity of the pleasure, perhaps he was being too cruel to you..
“You are right I do not want your forgiveness, I want more— I need you to be mine” you whined out, the pure euphoria of having you in his arms, under him, needing him just like he prayed to the gods you would. His feelings perhaps were not entirely one sided.
“You already have me, do you not see?” He said truthfully holding your hand to his heart “it beats for you lioness” He whispered in your ear and you gasped from the sheer intimacy and lewdness of your hips moving into each other, the soft wet sounds emulating in the wide halls but now all you could focus was on the man before you, his fingers reached down to your nub rubbing a calloused finger over it, the right little circles along with the snapping of his hips made you throw your head back and moan in tears as you felt your release build up for the fourth time since jacaerys had edged you, your eyes filled with tears as you looked to your betrothed with pleasing eyes to let you cum.
Jacaerys could not find it in himself to deny you of your pleasure anymore as he felt you come hard with a shrill cry of his name. All over his tunic. He felt his own release build up seeing your fucked out look with a few more sloppy hard thrusts he gave you all his cum, strings of his seed trailed down your shaky legs. He swore this was the hardest he had orgasmed ever in his life, his breath lost as he plopped himself over you his head resting in the crook of your neck as you rolled his silky brown hair between your fingers.
“You mean it? You love me?” You asked feeling him hum on your neck placing soft kisses on it as the two of you sunk to your feet using the pillar as support as jacaerys peppered you with kisses.
“Lying has never been in my nature” he said “I have loved you since the moment you I laid my eyes on you, princess” he smiled pulling himself from your neck to gaze upon your afterglow, messy lip tint smeared all over your face from the bruising kisses he gave you. You gasped and playfully punched at his side. “Your little tactics to get me to love you were quite entertaining, I admit” he smirked kissing you once more” as the two of you embraced in the cold of the night you felt so warm with his arms over you.
“You’re telling me all my seduction tactics were never necessary?!” You asked bewildered at your betrothed, you saw jacaerys crack up laughing as though if your realisation was the funniest thing to him. He would have to make up for this he knew, he was always ready to turn the tables around and win your forgiveness with his own seduction tactics.
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je-sus-callsmedaddy · 10 hours
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What if all I need is you? - S.H
Steve Harrington x female!reader
Steve doesn’t know that keeping it casual is making her fall deeper in love with him and on a weekend away with his parents they both can’t take it anymore
A/n: friends with benefits, friends to lovers, pinning, teasing
Warnings: strong language, kissing, touching
Word count: 4.3k
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Spring,
It started out as one innocent kiss in Steve’s garden after some party. But then either her, or how it was most of the time, he, kept pulling them back into whatever they had started. One kiss, turned into one touch, which became one night, then they just lost track.
She thought a lot about that first kiss, if it was meant to happen or not, if it was a mistake. But it was hard when they were like this, just sitting in her bedroom, waiting around for his family to come pick them up, to imagine anything that concerned Steve Harrington as a mistake.
He was tying his laces, sitting on the carpeted floor, a slight hint of a kissed bruise forming right under his jaw and something akin to a sunburn showing up across the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t even summer yet and he had caught the sun somehow.
It was like nothing had happened now, like just an hour ago they weren’t in her bed. He was too relaxed about it all and it made her sick because why was she losing sleep over how good it felt to be with him like this. Her friend, her Steve. And he was just fine.  
There was a bottle of some cheap wine accompanied with some strawberries in a basket sitting on her kitchen table. It felt wrong not to take anything with her, even if Steve laughed at her and told her it wasn't necessary. 
They were heading just slightly out of town, staying with his parents for the weekend. Steve always invited her along with him, she always stayed in his room, he always insisted on sleeping on the floor under a soft blue duvet set and he normally drove them too. 
But they hadn’t been doing this all those times before and she knew pretending she wasn’t completely falling in love with him was going to be harder when she was stuck in the same house as him for the weekend. 
He had come over that morning, she was still asleep and he had woken her up with the softest of kisses dotted along her shoulder, pulling away the sheets that were wrapped around her, all before the sun had completely risen, and she was supposed to act like that's what friends did. How did he do it?
Steve was now sitting, slightly cramped, in the back of his fathers car with her. There wasn’t nearly enough leg room for him in the back, everytime he moved, his knee knocked into hers. He had been fidgeting for a while, constantly putting his head in his hands or looking at the roof of the car.  
He actually looked a little more flushed than usual. He placed his head closer to his legs again. She leant down, trying to see his face to see what was wrong. “You okay Steve?” He looked carsick and when she thought about it a little more, it was rare that Steve wasn’t always the one driving up front.
He forced a smile, throwing his head back against the headrest, she wanted nothing more than to push the loose curls sticking to his forehead back, to take a cold drink and hold it to his cheek, she wanted to help. 
“Just feeling a little dizzy.” He looked over at her, hand touching her leg to give it a quick squeeze, letting her know he was fine even if she knew he wasn’t. His fingers burned against her bare thigh and she wished they lingered longer. 
He looked behind her, at the passing trees, they were on a faster road so everything was going by quicker and he was looking straight out the window. She smiled softly, tapping his thigh a lot lighter than he had touched hers. “Maybe you shouldn’t be watching the road go past out of the window.”
He groaned and rolled his head back again, looking at the roof of the car, jaw tilted up. It was a horrible sight, because she knew exactly how it felt to kiss down his neck now, she knew how his skin tasted and how far his freckles disappeared under his shirt.
“You’re not just pretty, you know.” Her heart ached like it was about to give out on her. He had called her pretty before but that was in the confines of her bedroom or his, he had never said it so callously before. “You’re smart too, too smart for me.”
She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks and avoided making eye contact with his mother in the rear view mirror. Everyone knew about her little crush on Steve, they taunted her for it every chance they got. Especially their friends, it was just the boy in question left out of the loop. 
“Just look ahead.” She offered, in a slightly more hushed voice than usual, fearful of it breaking and giving her away. Ignoring her own advice, she glanced out the window. It was better to be carsick than lovesick.  
Steve was smiling, she didn’t have to look to know it, she could hear it. “Whatever you say.” 
When they pulled up to the house she got that same fuzzy feeling, that strange warmth at the back of her neck that couldn’t be blamed on the weather. And it didn’t matter how many times she saw the porch, the big windows or the painted fence, it always reminded her of the kind of houses you walk past and say that’s where I wanna live someday, familiarity never changed that feeling. 
She didn’t know if it was her mind tricking her but the second she stepped out the car the air felt softer and fresher already. Like the sunshine was filling her lungs, the feeling was similar to that first sip of sparkling wine, and it was a completely stupid thing to think, but it made her smile.
And in turn that made Steve smile too. He had watched her, watched something shift the second they got out of town. It was his favourite thing in the world, that soft spring-like smile of hers. He was leaning against the car, his hands on his hips, she noticed he was squinting slightly as the sun hit him. At least he didn’t look so carsick anymore. 
He always looked younger out here to her. Something about this house made her feel younger, like she was still seventeen and begging to go away for the weekend, her parents only giving in when they couldn’t take her asking anymore. 
And it was comforting that even though she was clearly and obviously in love with him now he was still just Steve, his hair was just a little shorter and messier now, he tanned a little easier and his eyes were a little more sleepy now, especially in the early mornings. It didn’t matter that they were- that they had been- he could still just be her Steve here.  
“Hey, you okay?” He asked, nicking her cheek with his knuckles so lightly it almost felt like a breeze. She wished he would just hold her face, cup her cheek, wrap his fingers around her jaw, just once to get attention outside of her room. But this was nice too. 
She forced a smile the best she could, giving a quick nod of her head as a response. This weekend was going to kill her in the most dramatic of terms, a thousand little paper cuts right over her heart. 
Steve stepped away, not looking entirely convinced but smiling anyway as he took her things from the back of the car, something he had always just done. She expected that from other boys now, he had set the standard.
Every and any boy she knew she compared to him and no one ever quite measured up. That was obvious when they sat down to lunch. They always had lunch outside, dinner too if it was nice enough. Right in the garden with its pretty view of neighbouring fields, sitting at a green table and chairs set with feet that curled into leaves. She wanted one just like it some day. 
For now, Steve was still inside, along with his father, leaving his mother sitting beside her, staring at her so unabashedly that she could feel her cheeks heating up. She tried not to look, she tried staring at the lacy white table cloth or the open door that hopefully Steve would be coming through any second. 
“Steve’s got this little bruise on his neck.” Mrs Harrington talked with her smile, just like Steve did. She made the girl beside her turn so fast her knee bashed into the table leg, she bit down on the inside of her cheek trying to pretend that it didn’t hurt and that there weren't images flashing through her head. Images of herself giving Steve that mark, that slightly red and purple bruise that made him throw his head back. “Did he hurt himself?”
“I think he-”
She cut herself off as Steve came back outside at just the right time. 
He was carrying a tall glass of clouded lemonade that she hadn’t even had to ask for, he just anticipated that she would want one. He placed it right in front of her, leaving handprints behind in the condensation, which only made her think about how cold and slightly wet his hands must be right now. 
Drinking it felt much sweeter than before when Steve had brought it to her.
He sat across from her, his trainers just leaning against her bare ankles under the table, his laces ticking her skin. Completely innocent but still making her lungs hurt with every breath. She could have easily moved away, but to put it simply, she didn’t want to. 
It was impossible to focus on the conversation at hand. She kept slipping out of consciousness, wondering too much about how the breeze ran through Steve’s hair, how the sun kissed his cheeks, how the countryside agreed with him in ways their town just couldn’t compete with. Wondering if he would go without kissing her all weekend. 
The rules were so vague and foggy, she wasn’t even sure if they had rules. More often than not Steve just kissed her and then she couldn’t help but pull at his shirt or his hair and then he slipped his fingers under the straps of her dress and then- 
They didn’t talk about rules, about if mindless kisses were allowed, mindless touching was but kissing might’ve crossed the line. She didn’t know and it was driving her mad. 
She missed the conversation moving onto sport, she missed the way Steve was grinning as he got an idea. She missed how he had been trying so hard not to look at her for too long. He hated staring at her, it made his stomach hurt and his throat feel tight. 
The only time he let himself get lost looking at her was after, when he was sweaty and tired and not in control enough to look away. He took a deep breath, not wanting to think about that now. 
He wanted to feel normal again and the only way to do that was to drag her past the fence and beat her at something, just like he always did. Steve tapped her foot a little harder, gaining her attention, a dirty ball in his hands for a few seconds before he tossed it over at her. 
She flinched catching it, she hadn't even noticed where he had got it from. One second he was just sitting there, looking kissable, the next he was throwing a ball at her.  
And it didn’t take much convincing for Steve to get her out in the middle of the field, a muddy ball in his hands and a cocky grin on his lips because when it came to anything athletic he was always better. But she couldn’t help taking the bait and following him, not after he leaned down, right by her ear and told her that he would let her win this time. 
Steve already had dirt scraped across his knees, his shorts cut off on his thighs and it did nothing to help the fact he’d end up with a thousand little grazes over his legs that he would complain about later. He also already had sweat shining on his neck, it almost looked like glitter. 
And finally he had already kicked the ball a little too close to her head numerous times, apparently it wasn’t on purpose. Her cardigan and his sweater were scrunched up on the ground, marking the makeshift goal but Steve had gotten bored of scoring and she was sure he was just trying to hit her now. 
He was about to do it again and she knew it. He smirked, running a little further away just to kick the ball inches from her shoulder. “Steve!” She called out his name but it didn’t sound like a warning at all since she was laughing through it. 
He shrugged like he was the most innocent boy in the world, only giving up his façade when she gave him a push as she walked past. It was nothing more than a screw you for almost hitting me, but he grabbed her wrists in seconds to keep her from doing it again and spun her around so her back was pressed to his chest. It was like they were two seven year olds who had put too much sugar in their lemonade. 
“Oh come on I’m trying to let you win-” He said it so arrogantly and with such a smile that she wanted to hit him. And kiss him, she desperately wanted to kiss him when he used that voice. 
“Don’t you dare.” She refused to let him finish. She refused to acknowledge how his arms around her made her feel and decided to focus on how annoying he was being instead. He was not trying to let her win, he never let her win. 
He spun her around again, twisting their arms in a way that was slightly painful but easy to ignore. It had only been that morning that they had been in such close proximity, but to her it felt like forever. 
Their laughter died out, slowly and softly. She was stuck in that one spot, unable to move, looking up at Steve like her was everything because to her he was. She so badly wanted him to kiss her, not because he wanted to sleep with her but just for the sake of kissing her. 
If he just slightly leaned down, tilted his head just to the side a little he could have given into temptation and kissed her but as much as he wanted to, and from the look on her face, she wanted him to, he couldn’t. 
It felt like he was doing something he shouldn’t be. But for just a moment he wanted to, he really wanted to. Instead he let her go, stepping back and praying not to trip over. “Please don’t look at me like that.” He ran his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit. 
She felt a sharp pain in her chest, unlike the feeling that someone had placed a knife there, more the feeling of someone’s hand holding her heart too tightly. The grass tickled her legs and suddenly she found the feeling irritating. 
Steve laughed softly, awkwardly, like he didn’t know what else to do. She refused to look away, if he wanted to correct something she had done wrong he needed to tell her to her face. Even if all she wanted to do was sink into the ground. 
“Why? You’re allowed to touch me whenever you want.” Her tone felt unfamiliar, she had never once sounded so hurt in Steve’s presence. She crossed her arms like a little kid, scrapping her shoes back and forth over the grass. 
Steve’s shoulders dropped at the exact same time his eyes softened into a puppy-like stare. He stepped back over to her, hands gently pulling her arms away from her chest. His skin felt so warmed by the sun that the second he let go she felt a sharp shiver down her spine. 
“I didn’t mean it like that.” His tone was no longer cocky and condescending, it was sweet and soft and almost coaxing her. He wet his lips and refused to take his eyes off hers. “I meant-” He swallowed down so harshly it hurt. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I meant-” 
He couldn’t seem to figure out what he wanted to say, and Steve always talked a lot so the idea that he was tongue tied worried her. She wanted to tell him to forget about it, to pretend neither of them had brought it up, all just to make that look on his face go away. 
He ran his fingers up and down her arms, almost drawing patterns. He just needed to calm down for a second and touching her seemed like the only way to do that. “It makes it harder.” He whispered and he hated that he did, he almost felt she deserved better than to hear how scared he was to admit how damn hard it was when she looked at him like that. 
Her brows pressed together, “What do you m-”
“We should go back inside.” Steve cut her off, standing back, snapping into that other version of himself. He glanced back at the house, the sun was setting just behind it, another thing she hadn’t noticed because she was too busy looking at him. He smiled, like he wasn’t pressing his fingers into her heart. “I won after all, I get to shower first.”
He started walking backwards, smirking now. She hated that she had agreed to that, because he always got to use the bathroom first and it didn’t matter that there were others, she always waited then used his. She followed after him, whatever had happened just then quickly forgotten. It didn’t matter if she ran ahead and got back to the house first, he had earned the first shower. 
And he seemed to be taking liberties with it that day. The only good thing about that stupid pact was that Steve was never too long in the shower, he took more time than any other boy she knew but he was always quick when he knew she was waiting. And yet she was sitting on the counter top, trying to fix a nick in her nail with a file, and it felt like he was taking longer on purpose. 
“Steve, come on.” She shouted over the water, hoping to be heard, only knowing she was when she heard him laughing to himself. She just knew he was shaking his head at her too. Properly muttering something under the shower head about her being impatient. 
She couldn’t see him through the tinted glass but her imagination plagued her, conjuring up pictures of Steve standing under the hot water. The droplets running down his ribs, dampening his chest, the soap caught in his hair, the steam turning his skin slightly red. His lips swollen and wet. She screwed up her nail. 
Steve pushed the glass aside and she sighed ever so dramatically, as if he had been in there for hours. Shutting her eyes, she waited for him to put a towel around his waist. Seconds later she felt specks of water hitting her thighs, he must’ve been drying his hair because he always shook his head like a dog first. 
He smiled, at the way she swung her legs and how her eyes were softly shut, how she didn’t even flinch when he got her wet. She looked so pretty like this and she wasn’t even doing anything. Steve found himself standing between her legs, his thumb smoothing over the height of her cheek as he held her face. “You don’t have to do that anymore.” 
His voice made her heart thump, she had felt him get closer, felt his towel rub against her inner thighs and his breath on her face. She still didn’t open her eyes, it felt better not to, if she looked at him her heart would’ve sank and she would’ve thought too much about how much he was hurting her without knowing it. 
Instead of kissing her lips, he pressed a soft wet kiss right under her jaw, dragging his mouth down her neck and nuzzling his nose against her skin. He had done it countless times before, once in the back of his car too. She used to think he did it just because it made her dizzy, but it seemed like Steve could never get quite close enough. 
Her hand held his shoulder when she felt his teeth lightly scraping her skin, never enough to hurt just enough to ache, and her head tilted to the side to allow him as much access as he wanted. 
He stopped at her collar bone, fingers already slipping under the straps sitting on her shoulders. “Please-” He started, pressing a quick kiss to her lips because if he didn’t he might die. “Look at me?” He couldn't find it in himself to care how much he sounded like he was pleading with her. 
She did as he asked, opening her eyes as her hand slipped to his neck to pull him in for another kiss. Her nails lightly scratched the back of his neck, and she teased him with the idea of her pulling his hair, making him groan quietly against her lips. There was nothing he seemed to like more than her playing with his hair. 
She smiled, ending the kiss, pushing him back with her hands pressed to his chest. “I thought you didn’t want me to?” Biting her lip she felt rather proud of herself for not getting too caught up in kissing him, even if her head was screaming at her for asking silly questions instead of muttering his name under her breath. 
Steve grinned at her, some part of her felt like he was proud too. He fixed the straps on her shoulders, making sure they were sitting right, his fingers just running over the thin material over and over again. He shook his head. “I’m an idiot.”
She pushed his hair back, his curls were much tighter when his hair was wet, she adored it like this. He leaned into her touch like a purring cat, letting her pull out the tangles. “So I can look at you now?” She asked sweetly, purposely avoiding his eyes and focusing on her own hand. 
He suddenly dropped to his knees, his mouth inches from her own. His hands found themselves wrapped around her ankles, his fingers digging into her soft skin gently, teasing her hem of her white socks. “You can do whatever you want, no matter how hard it makes things for me.” He kissed the side of her knee, hands slowly gliding up her legs. 
“But why is it harder for you?” She whispered like they weren’t completely and utterly alone. She guessed she was scared he might say something awful, like he had no feelings for her at all and that’s why it was so difficult because she was so clearly head over heels for him.  
Steve sighed, dropping his head into her lap, hands coming around the backs of her knees. She forgot how to breathe for a moment, something about it felt so domestic, so romantic. Steve Harrington had made sighing romantic. 
“Because-I’m-in-with-.” He muttered into her skin and she could hardly make out a word. Laughing at him, just a little, she pushed his head up. “Because I’m in love with you.” 
“You’re falling in love with me and you couldn’t let me have the first shower?” She tilted her head to the side like a confused dog, picking at her nails like they were having the most normal conversation. 
Steve shook his head at her but to her it was the first thing that she thought of, if he was falling for her why didn’t he let her, or better yet why didn’t he let her win. He stood, hands at her waist taking her off the bathroom counter, spinning her around he walked her back into the shower. 
“Steve-” He turned on the water, soaking her clothes and himself all over again. “What are you doing?” He pushed his hairs back and he was just as she imagined he would be, with water dripping down his skin and falling over his lips. One hand never left her waist, he must’ve know she would’ve tried to run. 
“The quicker you get your shower the quicker we can talk about us.” He was being completely serious, already starting to unbutton her shorts, struggling at the denim stuck to her skin. “Fuck. These stupid-”
She held his wrists, stopping for him for a moment, as entertaining as it was to watch him try to undress her, she had the sudden nerve to tell him. “I love you, you know.” 
She waited, looking at him with water splashing off her shoulders and onto her face. Looking at him like he was all she would ever need and for the first time he knew he hadn’t mistaken a harmless look for something else. 
With both hands holding her face he kissed her, smiling through every second. Muttering through broken kisses in his breathless voice, “God I love you, love you, love you.” She laughed at him and he really didn’t seem to mind, he didn’t roll his eyes or torture her by stopping, he just gripped her hip until she stopped giggling against his lips.
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je-sus-callsmedaddy · 18 hours
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je-sus-callsmedaddy · 19 hours
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Day 7 Of Kinktober
FaceF*cking
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Husband!Jacaerys Velaryon x Wife!Fem!Reader. 18+ Drabble
I can’t find the ask but I remember someone asking for it.
Warnings: Male!Receiving, Reader Giving, Chock on c*ck, Jace being rough, face f*ucking, Praise.
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Throughout the marriage with your prince was amazing. Jacaerys made you feel loved and treated with with respect and kindness, he was just perfect. When it was your wedding night he took things slow and made sweet love, touched you gently and his soft fingers exploded every area with love. His words were nothing but praise, calling you every sweet name under the sun. His thrust slow but hard at the end when he was close, he rubbed your puffy clit to make you cum harder.
But after time your sweet husband became a feral beast over just the sight or smell of you. Jace would pound into you with your legs into your chest. He’d push you down on any surface and fuck you with no remorse, but he would always praise you. When he’d have a rough day or a bad sparring match he’d just come and find his cute little wife to take it out on. But he couldn’t get enough of you, and everything about you. From making you smile and happy with daily walks in the garden to making you cry and babble on his cock as your mind went blank.
And today Jacaerys was pissed and needed relief.
You sat on your knees with your hands gripping your dress as you tried not to choke too much while his shaft thrusted into your mouth. Spit ran down your mouth and to your chin, then down to your breast. Jace growled and pushed your head further down so your nose hit his skin and cloths, little hairs tickling you. He was so fast and rough that you cried from being choked and him hitting the back of your throat. Jace loved when you got like this for only him to see and feel, your mouth felt so good.
His hands tugged at your hair and pulled you closer with each thrust he did, “Take it-Oh fuck, so good.” You started to move your tongue and bit to make him feel better. He clinched himself and you felt him twitch in your mouth. The moans he let out made your pussy tingling and leak. “Such a good little wife for me. You know that? Can’t imagine anyone else I’d want to fuck.”
You gasped when he pulled your head back with a pull of your hair. You open your mouth and catch the breath you had lost and wiped the tears away from your cheeks. Your husband just stood above you smirking at that sight of you. “You like my cock in your mouth, don’t you girl?” His hands cupped your cheek and rubbed the wet spot. You looked up at him with a frown on your brow of submission and nodded your head, too embarrassed to speak.
He chuckled, “Open back up.” You did as he said and he shoved himself In immediately and hit the back of your throat. He could feel you choke in surprise. “You’re going to swallow all of it.” He stated and leaned one hand on the desk and the other on your head. All you could do was take it as he made you go faster and move his own hips.
You moved your hands up his legs and tapped his thigh and gripped onto him for support and comforted. “That’s a good girl. Such a good-fuck-Wife. Such a good wife.” You moaned against his cock and that made him closer. Closing your eyes you get ready for him to cum as he got faster and higher pitch moans. With a few more thrust he came hard and filled your throat up with his cum, your mouth watering at the warm feeling.
Pulling his cock out of you fast, you close your mouth to keep all the cum in your mouth. Humming at the taste you swallowed it all with a warm feeling in your stomach. You look up at your husband as he had his eyes closed and leaned both hands on the desk to catch his breath. Then you looked back to his cock and saw cum still on it and decided to clean all of it up.
You took him into your hands and slowly ran your tongue across the top and small slit in the middle. “What- oh.” He whined and opened his eyes at the feeling. Jace was sensitive and he watched you take his cock back into your mouth and bobble your head so softly. You hummed and cleaned him all up, you enjoyed his small breaths.
“Wanted to clean you up.” You pulled away and wiped away the spit around your mouth, smiling up at him. Jace returned your smile and patted your head then took your hand and helped you off your knees. He pulled his pants up and tucked himself back in. “You’ll be the death of me, it’s like you plagued my mind.” You both chuckled as he leaned you back against the desk, his hands resting on either sides of you.
Jace lean forward and rested his forehead on yours and took another breath a sighed. You did the same and wrapped your arms would his neck and played with the ends of his hairs. “I think I need to return the favor,” his lips curled back into a smirk and sank down to his knees.
“Make your pussy cry for me as well.”
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je-sus-callsmedaddy · 22 hours
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Hi i was wondering if you could write an nsfw head cannon of jacaerys and his wife reader and what their intimate life is like, and like talk about stuff they do.
𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 | 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐗 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
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˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : request.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : headcanons, smut + slight fluff. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : : jacaerys velaryon x wife!reader
WARNING.ᐟ THIS FIC CONTAINS ; p in v, unprotected sex, sex from behind, bootfucking, breast play, creampie, slight mentions of mirror sex, oral sex (both receiving), mentions of you riding him, praising, slight mentions of spanking.
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: ̗̀➛ Okay, so, for starters. Your intimate life naturally came after you were both officially married, and the bedding ceremony came. To respect your privacy, the two of you already had a chamber of your own to share, and you would be able to be as intimate as you wished.
: ̗̀➛ Initially, Jace would’ve been very soft and delicate with you. It’s in his gentleman nature to be careful, especially with the woman who was now his wife, and he so adored. Things would’ve gone slowly, but surely. And perhaps, there would’ve been a bit of foreplay and kisses before starting anything.
: ̗̀➛ Jace would press sweet, teasing pecks all across your cheek, going down to your jawline, focusing on giving your neck attention with his kisses — especially in a particular spot of your neck where Jace notices it makes you squirm and gasp —, and goes to your collarbone, savouring your skin with each peck.
: ̗̀➛ All the while, of course, Jace’s hands softly move behind your back, playing with the laces of your nightgown as he leisurely unties them, letting your gown become loose from your body, and fall from your shoulders. Being the gentleman he is, of course, Jacaerys would constantly ask you if you’re feeling comfortable with what he’s doing, if you want him to stop, or keep going; all with the most sweetest voice you’ve ever heard.
: ̗̀➛ His coffee eyes would look up at you admiringly, just like a fascinated puppy. You don’t want him to stop any sooner — if anything, the way he teased your skin by pressing soft kisses and caressing it leisurely with the tip of your fingers, merely got you all wet and needy for him. To which, you gave him the green light to keep going.
: ̗̀➛ And my god, you didn’t regret it. The second you approved for him to keep pleasing you, his hands rather desperately pulled down your gown, low enough to just expose your breasts. His mouth immediately took your hardened nipple in a delicate manner, using his tongue to tease it very lightly, and his teeth nibbled on your sensitive skin to leave some lovemarks, using his hands to pinch, twist, and rub your nipples.
: ̗̀➛ Pretty little hushed whimpers & moans would continuously escape from your lips as your eyes flutter shut, and you throw your head back; feeling your cunt grow wet and needy. Each sound that spurred from that beautiful mouth of yours, simply made Jace grow harder for you, with an overwhelming need to fuck you right there, and make you shout loudly his name for everyone to hear who you belong to.
: ̗̀➛ And so he did. By the time Jacaerys had already feasted a bit too much on your delicate skin and sweet breasts, his mouth abruptly pulled away from your tits after some minutes, making you gasp, and his firm yet gentle hand pushed you onto your back against the mattress, getting on tip of you, and fucking you fervently throughout the entire night, cumming in and out of your body several times.
: ̗̀➛ After such lovely bedding night, getting lovingly yet roughly fucked by the eldest son of Rhaenyra Targaryen, you would’ve gotten more and more used to explore your intimacy together - whether it’s privately, or... Even publicly, being a bit more bold.
: ̗̀➛ Jacaerys absolutely adores having you all submissive & needy, as much as it pains him to hold himself back from taking you right there all for him. So, whenever he’s either studying, reading in High Valyrian, or simply reading a book - he will absolutely have you sitting on the floor, whining and begging for him to take you.
: ̗̀➛ You look beautifully endearing just like that, and Jace will tease you by making you sit on top of his boot, and rubbing your needy moist cunt, bootfucking you. Continous desperate whines would escape from you, begging for him to fully take you - but not just yet. Jace prefers having you clinging to his leg, and seeing how you rub yourself with the tip of his boot.
: ̗̀➛ Jace always knows exactly what you like, and what you need. And he keeps the perfect balance between roughness, and gentleness at the same time. Part of him loves treating you as if you were the petal of a rose, or made of glass - delicately and lovingly. And another part of him simply wants to fuck you like a whore, like you need and want to get fucked, rough and disgusting. This, however, doesn’t mean he will not respect the boundaries you’ve set for each other, and afterwards, he will always ask you if you’re okay, and feeling comfortable.
: ̗̀➛ Sex from behind happens often, and I dare to say it’s one of his favourite positions, after having you riding him. The feeling of you becoming weaker with every pound of cock buried deep inside your pussy, continously hitting your soft spot. Expect his hands to always firmly grip your waist violently in a possesively controlling manner... Or, perhaps, one of his hands gropping your breast while he plays with your stimulated nipples. That feels pretty good for both of you.
: ̗̀➛ And speaking about sex from behind! During this position, I can imagine he would like fucking you right in front of a mirror, making sure to change the speed in which he penetrates you just to see the different expressions in your beauteous features. His hand would hold your chin occasionally, forcing you to stare at yourself through the mirror being fucked by him, as he whispers just how much of a good girl you are, taking his cock so well and obediently.
: ̗̀➛ One of his many favourite things to do in bed, is having you go down on him, and him going down on you. The way your hand forms a fist around his throbbing cock, gently masturbating him as your lips press delicate smooches on his leaking tip, moving your mouth all the way down to his cock with small kisses until you decide to finally take him in your mouth makes him go absolutely feral for you.
: ̗̀➛ It would take Jacaerys all the efforts that he has to not grip harshly from your hair, pulling it back, and violently face fuck you until you’re deepthroating his shaft and maybe even gagging a bit. It hurts not doing so, but he prefers to treat you like the true future Queen you are. The way in which your tongue strokes his cock leisurely while you’re going down on him with your mouth provokes him to loudly groan, and chant your name under his breath. As expected, his semen spurs all over the inside of your mouth, your tongue, and the roof of your mouth.
: ̗̀➛ Or, if he’s feeling a bit too aroused, he will quickly pull out from your mouth at the feeling of his seed being released, and come all over your precious lips, chin, neck, and chest. The sight of his own cum dripping from your chin and neck, some sticky drops falling to your tits, is enough to make him feel proud of himself. You’re all his.
: ̗̀➛ And when Jace has to go down on you? Man, he for sure knows how to take your aching pussy. His hands would be harshly gripping your hips, as his plump lips press playful kisses all over your inner thighs, moving upwards until he meets with your wet core.
: ̗̀➛ There, he would sweetly place kisses all over your moist folds, working up until he meets your glistening clit. He would then carefully rub the rim of it, and slowly work his way in to meet your throbbing core. His tongue would flick against that sensitive spot, and then he would move his mouth back towards your entrance, where he would suckle at your slit, selfishly drinking from your dripping slick while he eagerly fingerfucks you.
: ̗̀➛ It’s just as if Jace knew exactly how you like to be treated; pampering each bit of your sensible core with such fervent adoration. Jace does it like nobody else does, and you can go down on him like nobody else as well. You’re the perfect match.
: ̗̀➛ The eldest Velaryon Prince would also absolutely adore having you riding him. Especially because you tease him by telling him that you’re finally learning on how to properly ride a true dragon... And because he likes the way your tits bounce when you’re on top of him. And, of course, the sight of the bruises Jace leaves on your hips after firmly holding you down on him is also a very pleasant one.
: ̗̀➛ Jace knows how to treat you when you’re such a good girl for him, so obedient — and he will be so gentle, loving, and adoring. But when you’re a bit feisty with him, thinking that you can misbehave around him, Jace will never doubt on having you laid all across his lap, harshly spanking your ass until your flesh is red and swollen, occasionally rubbing his palm across your aching cunt teasingly.
: ̗̀➛ And when you accept your punishment, his pulsating cock would fill you up so delightfully. Pounding violently in and out of you continously, making sure his cock hits deeply against your G spot just to have you shaking, whining, and whimpering under him. Seven Hells, the way you moan his name in that ruined state is so, so pretty. And Jacaerys would cum several times inside of you, to the point you would feel comfortingly and overwhelmingly warm, until his hot semen is oozing out of your abused pussy, dripping down your inner thighs.
: ̗̀➛ I think Jace would pretty much be up to anything. Want to be tied to the bed while he fucks you and you can’t do anything about it? Sure, he will do as you please. Want to be choked? Okay! Jace will be happy to oblige. Want to be tendered softly, and fucked with love and adoration as he praises you in between kisses? Say no more. Jacaerys absolutely adores you, and that’s an understatement.
: ̗̀➛ Your sex life will be pretty much open to anything, and of course, his only focus will be in making you feel satisfied, comfortable, and loved. Jace would never do anything to get hurt you or make you uncomfy. 💗
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je-sus-callsmedaddy · 22 hours
Text
— DAMAGED GOODS
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PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Rabban/Harkonnen!OC
SUMMARY — The servants have been telling Baron Harkonnen many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his twin sister is close. Very close. Too close. The Baron only chuckles at that. He couldn’t care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha is a warrior he wants him to be and his sister remains out of his sight.
REQUEST — (1)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — The Reader is a Rabban/Harkonnen. I've described some of her looks – her skin is pale but not because she is *white* but because they're all pale (due to the pollution and lack of normal sunlight I guess). She has hair but it's white. I didn't describe the structure of her hair or anything and the colour is caused by the lack of pigment. Her facial features are not described in any way. Oh, and she has black teeth, too... 😁 It will be explained in the fic. I tried to make it an x Reader fic but, yeah, quite a lot about her looks is described. On the other hand, I hope it's understandable since she's Feyd's twin. I am very happy that I received this request because I've been itching to write something like that for a long time. 🤍
WARNINGS — INCEST, SMUT, non/dub-con, breeding
WORD COUNT — 6,610
🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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DAMAGED GOODS
Baron Harkonnen was ready to leave Lankiveil with his two nephews – small Feyd-Rautha in one of the female servants’ arms and teenage Glossu on whose shoulder The Baron was keeping his hand on. He didn’t have any heirs of his own so one day he’d name one of the boys his Na-Baron and give them his Harkonnen surname.
They nearly reached the ship when one of the female servants of Lankiveil ran up to them with a small bundle in her arms.
“My Lord,” she called out and The Baron turned around, irritated. The woman was terrified of him but she still had her duties. “What about the girl, my Lord?” She asked.
The Baron squinted his eyes at the child in her arms. Feyd-Rautha’s twin sister (Y/N) Rabban – he had no use for her.
“Give her to the Bene Gesserit or kill her, I do not care,” he commented as Glossu’s muscles stiffened under his uncle’s touch.
“She is my sister,” his eyes widened at those words. “Please, let her come with us.”
“You will soon realise that women on Giedi Prime hold no significance. A girl…” Baron Vladimir winced. “I do not wish to raise her. She will be a burden.”
“Then I will raise her. I will take care of her,” Glossu pleaded. “And one day you will find her a match, someone to marry to create a powerful alliance. She will be useful,” he kept convincing.
The Baron wanted to be feared even amongst his family members. But he didn’t want to be hated by his older nephew from the first day. Irritated, he sighed and waved his hand at the maid.
“Fine, I shall take her,” he sighed.
Hesitantly, the maid handed the child to Glossu Rabban as his uncle gave him a scolding look.
“You’re responsible for her now,” he reminded.
“She is my sister. Her place is with me and Feyd,” Rabban nodded.
About this one thing he was stubborn and about this one thing he would fight even his own uncle. Baron Vladimir decided it would be for the best to let the boy have it his way.
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(Y/N) and Feyd were raised differently – he was raised to be a strong warrior and his uncle’s pet. Relentless in combat, obedient to his Master, an enjoyer of pain. Inflicting it on others but also the pain being inflicted upon him. Psychotic and murderous. His twin sister was kept away from such an environment by her older brother. He wanted her to become a grand lady. Of course Glossu Rabban had no idea about women’s education but he made sure that his little sister had dozens of tutors. The smarter and more courteous she was, the easier it would be to sell her in a marriage union one day. It didn’t mean she was easy to manage. Ever since she was a little girl, she would cause trouble by following her twin brother everywhere and wanting to be as mischievous as him. He was given the Harkonnen surname and the title of na-baron. She was just Countess (Y/N) Rabban. Many thought she was actually Glossu Rabban’s daughter. Despite being raised differently, her and Feyd were inseparable.
They were not identical twins – she was a splitting image of her mother while he remained a mix of both parents. He was born bald like most of The Harkonnens, she was lucky to keep her hair even though it lacked pigment and was snowy white. The only thing in common they had was their sickly pale Harkonnen skin… and their blood.
The servants had been telling The Baron many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his sister was close. Very close. Too close. The Baron would only chuckle at that. He couldn’t care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha was a warrior he wanted him to be and his sister remained out of his sight and out of big trouble that would require him to intervene.
(Y/N)’s chambers were connected to Feyd’s with the tall, black doors. In fact, they resided in the chambers of The Baron and The Baroness Harkonnen. These chambers had not been used in many years before Feyd was given them by his uncle in his teenage years. It was only natural that (Y/N) followed to the room attached to his. But most mornings, the servants would not find her in her bed. She was being found in her brother’s embrace, their legs intertwined, her hands wrapped around his muscular chest. As if they were still two embryos in their mother’s womb.
She could swear, she could feel pain when he was experiencing it. And out of them two, only he enjoyed it. It brought her no pleasure to see his scars from their uncle’s punishments. She would kiss them all better, every thin line of scarred flesh upon his back would be soothed with her lips. She loved to watch him train, following him around like a puppy at first but then she grew to be a fine woman herself and she no longer gave such innocent energy. All the years of trying to be invisible for her uncle had taught her how to slither around the fortress like a snake; always observant, always on guard, always quiet and unnoticeable. 
(Y/N) focused so hard on not being a bother for her uncle that she forgot other people might notice her, too.
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The Baron was staring at the veiled old woman in front of him with a contemptuous smirk. Of course he would follow the Bene Gesserit's order in the end whether he wanted it or not but he needed her to see that he was not as easy to control as most of the lesser lords.
“What are you asking of me, woman?” He asked as he looked her up and down.
The Bene Gesserit sighed. She knew perfectly well that he had heard her before.
“I want to put Countess Rabban to the test of Gom Jabbar to see if she’s fit for the marriage union that shall be arranged between her and Prince Paul Atreides,” she repeated her words.
“I am not fond of that girl but she is the closest thing to a daughter I have ever had,” The Baron shook his head. “What makes you think I would give her away to an Atreides?”
“Atreides was supposed to have a daughter who would be a match for your nephew Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. His concubine gave him a son instead but it doesn’t have to mean the match cannot be arranged. After all, Feyd-Rautha has a twin sister sharing his genetic material with him.”
“And what do I get of this union?” The Baron snorted.
“Control over your enemy; The Atreides family,” the Bene Gesserit nodded her head.
“Control over them? By sending that girl over there?” The Baron laughed at the idea. “She’s a weak woman. She won’t have control over anything.”
“Paul Atreides is a boy of a gentle nature, I have tested him already. Countess Rabban will easily push him in all the directions you will ask her to,” the woman tried to convince The Baron. He knew that if he’d argue even further she would just use The Voice.
“Alright then,” he shrugged his arms. “Put her to a test. If she dies, you’ll be the one breaking the news to her brothers. I won’t deal with their pathetic tears.”
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Feyd didn’t know where his sister was. It was unusual for her not to wait in her chambers in the evening. Either way, he ordered the servants to fill the bathtub with water and then told them to leave as he sank into the warm liquid after a long day filled with combat training.
The doors opened after a while and (Y/N) entered the room. She had an odd expression on her face as if she was bothered with something and he spotted a few beads of sweat upon her forehead.
“Where were you?” Feyd squinted his eyes at her.
“The Bene Gesserit asked me to join her for a while. She did something weird to me,” she answered as she worked on her dress swiftly to take it off as quickly as possible.
“What do you mean weird?” Feyd tilted his head as he watched her undress. The folds of her skirt and bodice fell down to the floor and revealed her smooth skin and all the curves.
He had asked his older brother about their mother only once. His question had been about her looks. “What did she look like?”, young Feyd had asked. And all Glossu had answered was – “Just look at our sister”.
“She put me to a test. You’d like it,” (Y/N) smirked at him as she turned around to face him and join him in the bathtub. “It was painful,” she admitted and leaned her back on the edge, facing him. She let out a relaxed moan at the feeling of the warm water.
“She hurt you,” Feyd’s question was more of a statement as his jaw clenched.
“I’m fine,” (Y/N) let out a laugh at his reaction. “Such a strong warrior you are and look at you, your older sister is your weakness,” she teased.
“Twenty minutes older,” Feyd scoffed as she chuckled at his annoyance. “Age does not matter, I could snap your neck in a second, dear sister. You have no idea how to defend yourself,” he pointed out angrily.
“Grumpy, grumpy, Feyd,” she giggled as she moved closer to him and sat astride him. Her hands caressed his muscular chest. “Don’t be so sure I’m that helpless… I’ve been watching you train my whole life. I’ve learnt a thing or two,” she lowered her face to whisper into his ear.
He felt his cock twitching at the feeling of her body on his; her sweet breath on his ear, her whisper sending shivers down his spine. He knew she didn’t mind. In fact, she was feeding off of his desire; teasing him mercilessly over and over. One thing Rabban had made very clear was that she could not be touched by any man before her wedding. But it did not mean that Feyd hadn’t been fantasising about it many times before.
She was an absolute perfection. She was like a reflection in the mirror. And who could be more beautiful and breathtaking than Feyd-Rautha himself? She was his missing part like he was hers. They completed each other in many ways but in other ways they were exactly the same. Their heartbeats and breaths were in sync, their desires were the same and he could not tell anymore whether he craved her because of the strong resemblance or had he been the one to spoil her. His childhood experience full of violence and cruelty turned him into a hypersexual predator who would fuck anything and anyone. He had been the first one to put the sexual context into their innocent touches and kisses. On the other hand, she had played along very quickly.
In the whole wide world, his twin sister was the only person who knew and understood him. They had no secrets with each other.
“You’re getting too excited, brother,” she pointed out with a smirk as she threw her arms around his neck. He looked up at her face looming over his. She was even more beautiful like that – on top of him, in control.
“You’re mine,” he let out a raspy whisper as she raised one of her white eyebrows at him. “You’re mine and only mine. Forever,” he breathed out.
“That’s an interesting concept, Feyd-Rautha,” she smiled, “but you do know that our brother is raising me to be another man’s lady.”
“You will be my Baroness and if our brother stands in the way of that happening, I will slay him,” Feyd threatened and his sister moved uncomfortably at his words.
“Stop talking nonsense,” she rose up to leave the bathtub already but Feyd grabbed her by her hair and pulled her down again as she hissed out of discomfort. He hated to inflict pain on her out of all the people but sometimes he just… had to.
“I do mean that,” he drawled as her eyes widened at him.
“I know,” she only said and he licked his lips at the sight of her chest rising up and down as she breathed heavily. He let go of her and watched her leave the bathtub and the bathroom without a word.
Feyd left the bathtub, too. He put on a simple black robe and went back to his room. His sister was laying on his bed, completely naked and playing with one of his short knives in her hands. He sighed with relief at the sight. He expected her to be offended and go to her room before locking the doors for the night.
“I’ll be back in a while,” he told her and approached the doors leading to the corridor. She snorted and he froze.
“You’re like a dog, dear brother. You men are so easy to control with your sexual urges and desires,” she commented and Feyd clenched his jaw as he turned his head around to look at her.
“I’m trying very hard not to violate you. Don’t tease,” he warned.
“Your own sister?” She grinned, showing off her black teeth.
As a child, she had insisted on dyeing them just like her twin brother. Glossu had refused – it would make her look less appealing for the future suitors. Even The Baron had told her it had not been the best idea. (Y/N) had not listened. She had sneaked into the medical wing and had done it herself. At twelve years old she had ruined herself for the first time for Feyd-Rautha.
That had been the only time when Glossu had actually punished her physically. Feyd still remembered because he had been waiting for her by the doors leading to his brother’s chambers. She had been screaming and kicking her feet while getting her arse spanked. After leaving the room, she had sniffled all the tears back and grinned at Feyd with her new black smile. “I’ve gotten my arse whooped,” she had told him proudly as if it was an achievement.
Some time later she had been caught wanting to shave her head off but it was Feyd this time who had stopped her – telling her how much he loved it, how it was making her look different than all the other women around. How much power that hair was giving her. It had made her hesitantly put the scissors down.
And now, Feyd did not answer her teasing accusation as he left the bedroom to go to his concubines, leaving his sister alone. He would join her later, when she would already be asleep. He’d pull her closer and she’d open her arms to welcome him. He’d fall asleep caressing the soft curves of her body and feeling her heartbeat pressed to his.
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Two weeks later he trained as usual while (Y/N) sat nearby and watched. She would clap her hands excitedly each time he’d succeed and make a boo sound each time he’d lose. There was lots of mockery in her exaggerated reactions but he couldn’t imagine training without her around anymore.
At the sight of his brother entering the courtyard, Feyd lowered his blade and gave him an unpleasant look.
“What do you want? Why are you interrupting me?” He asked Glossu.
“I am not here for you,” his brother extended his hand towards their sister. “(Y/N), come with me. It is important,” he insisted and she whined. “Our uncle requires your presence.”
“Why?” Feyd barked. He did not like the idea of his uncle wanting something from his sister.
“It is none of your business, Feyd,” Glossu snapped at him and a second later he already had his brother’s knife pressed to his neck.
“Everything regarding (Y/N) is a business of mine,” Feyd hissed.
“Leave him alone,” she approached them as she ordered her twin brother. He took a step back and lowered the blade but only because it was her ordering him. She would always defend Glossu in all the arguments between the brothers. Feyd knew why – their older brother had been the closest thing to a father she had. He protected her, too. And that was the only thing Glossu and Feyd had in common. The love for their sister.
But only one of them loved her… so much.
She put her hands around Glossu’s arm and allowed him to lead her out of the courtyard. Feyd waved his hand dismissively at the servant he had been fighting with as he decided to follow them.
“Your presence was not requested,” his brother remarked.
“Don’t tease him so,” (Y/N) scolded him and he shut his mouth.
Glossu led them to the throne room where their uncle was sitting. But he was not alone. He had guests. Feyd and (Y/N) recognised them immediately from the pictures. The Atreides family – dignified and regally looking Duke Leto Atreides with his beautiful concubine Lady Jessica of The Bene Gesserit. Between them there was a young man standing – their son, Prince Paul Atreides. He was visibly trying to put on a brave face but he was scared and his eyes avoided the siblings who had just entered the room.
“Ah, here they are,” The Baron beckoned them over with his hand as he announced them. “My eldest nephew Count Glossu Rabban and his beloved younger sister, my niece, Countess (Y/N) Rabban.”
She let go of her older brother’s hand and stepped out to bow down slightly. Feyd sneered at that. He always would whenever she’d act like a lady – like their brother and uncle wanted her to. Like she had been taught to ever since she was a little girl.
“That insolent young man standing behind her is my heir and (Y/N)’s twin brother, Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” The Baron gave Feyd a scolding look.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, my Lords, my Lady,” Duke Leto nodded his head at all of the siblings.
“(Y/N), child, come closer,” The Baron cooed to her unusually. He would often put on such a show in front of important guests as if he wasn’t treating her like air most of the time. But Feyd was glad that his uncle actually ignored his sister. Otherwise it would be more difficult to protect her.
She approached the guests with furrowed brows, visibly confused by this situation. Feyd’s heart already squeezed inside of his chest as he had a feeling what that was about.
“You will be married to Prince Paul Atreides,” The Baron informed her as if it was nothing.
Feyd looked at Glossu first but his brother did not look surprised at all. He had to know already and it made Feyd feel even angrier as he treated it as betrayal. He shot his uncle a furious glance and then he laid his eyes on his twin sister. To his surprise, she was smiling softly at the shy and gently looking young man.
“It is a great honour,” she bowed her head and Paul Atreides flinched a little. She noticed it. “Do not be scared of me, my Lord,” she chuckled delicately. “I am nothing like my brothers.”
Feyd gritted his teeth. Without a word – rudely and risking his uncle’s punishment – he turned around and left the room.
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He saw her again in the evening. He had been training intensely for the past few hours, trying to let the frustration go. The doors leading to her bedroom were ajar and he peeked inside. (Y/N) was packing her things into black wooden chests.
“What are you doing?” Feyd asked her as his blood ran cold.
“I shall take a different room from now on. It is inappropriate for us to share one,” she muttered without even looking up at him.
“Since when do you care?” Feyd leaned on the wall and watched her carefully, trying not to show how much he was panicking on the inside.
“Since I am getting married soon,” she shrugged her arms and he snorted at her.
“You really think I’m going to allow this union, dear sister?” He asked and she turned her face around with her brows furrowed.
“You have nothing to say in that matter, brother,” she reminded him. “You are nothing but our uncle’s pet. The psychotic and fearsome Feyd-Rautha… If only they knew that you’re not scary at all,” she remarked as his jaw clenched.
“I will kill him if I must. That boy, Paul Atreides,” Feyd threatened.
“We both know you will not. It would have consequences greater than you and I can even imagine,” she smiled but he noticed the curls of her lips twitching. She was nervous.
“How can you not oppose this marriage?” Feyd let his guard down as he asked genuinely, expecting an answer just as honest.
His sister’s facial expression changed as well. She approached him and cupped his face in her delicate, soft hands.
“I’ve always known I would leave Giedi Prime eventually. I could only hope for a good husband and Paul Atreides is good. He is young and pretty and naive. My life as his Duchess will be easy and pleasant,” she explained softly. “I’ve always known I would leave Giedi Prime and I couldn’t wait for that day. I want to… No, I need to get away from here… from you,” she whispered as his eyes widened at her revelation. “You’re poisonous, Feyd-Rautha. You have spoiled me already, ruined me, stained me. And everywhere I go, our uncle’s sticky spiderweb surrounds me, suffocates me,” she finished before leaning in to place a gentle goodbye kiss upon his lips.
She wanted to move away but he grabbed her cheeks and aggressively pulled her closer once again, kissing her yet again but possessively and hungrily. She didn’t kiss him back this time.
When he finally let go of her, they were both breathing heavily but there was nothing but anger in their eyes.
“Stay away from me and stay away from Paul Atreides,” she warned her brother and he walked out of her room before slamming the doors behind him, furiously.
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But Feyd did not stay away. Whenever he was not in the courtyard, training vigorously and slaying his opponents one after another with the ferocity he had not displayed before, he would follow (Y/N) and her husband-to-be around the fortress. He didn’t trust any servant to spy on them for him, no, he had to do it himself.
Paul Atreides was left alone for two weeks on Giedi Prime and after that time he would take the Countess with him to Caladan. He was scared of his betrothed’s planet as he was widening his eyes at everything as she explained to him gently. Usually Feyd was catching them in the maze of countlessly corridors as they walked together. Soft laughter of his sister occasionally filled the cold marble walls. 
He was nearly always there; creeping in the shadows, watching, observing, gritting his teeth at her every smile or blush. Paul Atreides, visibly scared of her at first, was slowly starting to get used to her presence. And one day he dared to lean in and steal a delicate kiss from her lips.
Feyd clenched his fists at the sight as he was hiding behind the pillar. His sister’s lips had never been kissed before by any man other than him. His blood boiled when he realised that not only Paul Atreides would kiss her but also claim her as his own and put his weak and pathetic heirs inside her womb.
No, that could not happen. She was made for him, she was his other half. Feyd-Rautha would not let any other man take her away from him.
He turned around and quietly went to the living quarters where he found the room that now belonged to his sister. He barked at the servant girls to leave him and they ran away, startled by his anger. Once he was alone in (Y/N)’s bedroom, he patiently waited.
After a while, he heard her footsteps down the corridor. He would recognise them everywhere. He stood behind the doors as his heart pounded in his chest from the anticipation.
She pushed the doors open and walked inside, looking around for her servant girls. Feyd was standing behind her and observing her carefully, wondering when she’d notice him.
“I know you’re here,” she sighed without looking back. “I can recognise your stench,” she drawled.
He growled at her insolent words as he swiftly moved forward and grabbed her by her hair, pulling it by the roots and making her hiss out of pain. He pulled her closer to him, rested her body on his and smirked while pressing his cheek to hers.
“You’ve never seemed to complain about my scent before, dear sister,” he pointed out.
“I meant that you stink of sweat and blood at this very moment,” she fixed herself, still wincing out of pain he was inflicting upon her. “What do you want from me?”
“I saw you with him,” he breathed out.
“I know. I see you in the shadows every time,” she sneered. “I recommend finding a different hobby.”
“You’re mine. If you think I’m going to let you leave Giedi Prime, carry his surname and bear his filthy Atreides children in your womb, then you are mistaken, sister,” Feyd whispered angrily into her ear before biting on her earlobe.
She did not answer but in her eyes he spotted fear. Real fear, not her usual playful demeanour. For the first time in her life she was truly scared of her twin brother. Perhaps for the first time she understood why others feared him.
Still holding her by her white hair, he walked her to the bed and threw her on it. She immediately tried to crawl away and run away from him but he grabbed her ankle and watched her struggle with a smirk.
“Leave me alone,” she tried to command him. And usually he would listen to her orders but not now, too blinded by jealousy.
In one swift movement he brought her closer by her ankle and tore her dress and underwear open with his small knife. She looked up at him with anger, fear and a dose of excitement that made him smirk. Her body betrayed her – she wanted it, too. 
He was rock hard already at the sight of her like that for him. She was like a prey on display for him to feast upon. Feyd licked his lips and turned her around. He took his cock out of his leather pants as she tried to stand up on her shaky hands and legs to get away. Before she’d move too far, he pulled her close once again with a laugh.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he threatened and pressed his blade under her chin.
On her hands and knees with her beautiful white hair resting on her back – he had been dreaming of claiming her from behind this way for years now. She was trembling out of fear and anger but she couldn’t scream for help when his blade was so close to her larynx.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned in closer to her ear. “You’re my other half.”
He felt her swallowing thickly under his blade as he smirked to himself and moved the knife away. Before she could scream, he pushed her head down into her pillow, muffling any sound that would leave her mouth.
“No Atreides will fuck you. No other man will at all, for that matter,” he barked at her, his cock twitching already at the sight of her exposed womanhood. “You’re mine,” he reminded her.
She tried to protest but he couldn’t understand the words she was saying. He pressed her head even deeper into the pillow and with his free hand he ran across her folds, finding her clit and pinching it as she squealed and kicked her feet.
She was so delicate and sensitive, his dear sister. He took a deep breath in as he was starting to get dizzy from the sight and smell alone. He worked his fingertips around her sweet spot and noticed her muscles relaxing as her will to fight him off started to subdue gradually. At the first feeling of her warm wetness, he gathered it and brought his fingers to his mouth. Feyd hummed at the taste.
“Do you know what you taste like?” He asked her angrily and pulled her hair again. She shook her head. “Like me,” he pointed out. “Because we belong together,” he reminded her and she whined.
He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed her now. He pumped his hard cock a few times before lining it up with her tight hole. Feyd nearly felt bad for his sweet sister, for the pain she would experience now. But no feeling was stronger than his lust.
He entered her in one deep thrust while she yelped and writhed; even the pillow was not able to muffle the pathetic sound leaving her mouth. He closed his eyes at the feeling of her warm and tight walls spasming around his length. She was perfect, she was made for him and him only. They were finally complete again; one body, one soul.
“You will rule with me as my Baroness,” he hissed as his hips began to thrust into her. “We will bring back the old traditions, keep our bloodline pure. And you will give me heirs,” he crooned to her maliciously. “You were made to do that, sweet sister. Made for me. Me,” he kept repeating.
She drooled and sobbed into the soft silky pillow as her hands were clutching on the sheets. She was helpless under him but what she hated the most was that part of her that did not want him to stop. That part of her that felt the same way as her brother – complete at the feeling of him fucking her. Like she was finally connected to the long lost part of her body.
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head with each of his thrust, filling her so thoroughly, making her feel full and overwhelmed as he was hitting all the right spots inside of her. She knew that sweet and gentle Paul Atreides would never claim her this way. No one would. Only her twin brother knew how to please her. He understood her more than anybody else.
He spoiled her, he ruined her, he was poisonous. But who said she didn’t want it? Her body betrayed her as it admitted that she craved it.
What she feared were the consequences of this act. The consequences of breaking the fragile truce with The Atreides, the consequences of breaking up the engagement that had been not only prepared by The Baron himself but also plotted by the dangerous Bene Gesserit.
None of it mattered, though. None of it was important with Feyd's cock buried so deep inside of her, his hand pushing her face into the pillow and making her suffocate slightly, which only enhanced the pleasure. His free hand was squeezing her hip and marking it as he grunted and cooed to her all those blasphemous promises about their shared life together, their compatibility, their bodies being made for one another.
She came first; suddenly and without a warning. Her body spasmed and trembled as her limbs went numb. At the feeling of her tight walls fluttering around his cock, Feyd reached his peak right after but he did not pull out for a long time, emptying himself as deep inside of her as he could; straight into her womb.
His sister whined at the feeling of his thick, black cum coating her walls but now, after his release, most of his anger was gone as well, so he just caressed her head and shushed her.
“Shh, dear sister, just take it like you were made to,” he cooed and she didn’t have any strength in her body to fight it anymore.
When he eventually pulled out, he watched her pussy twitching deliciously as a small streamlet of his black cum leaked out of it and stained her grey sheets, mixing with a few droplets of blood.
“Now, when you’ve been claimed by me,” Feyd smirked to himself proudly as he hid his cock back into his pants, “no other man will want you. Not when you’re surely carrying my spawn in your womb,” he added and left the room without a word.
He refused to watch her laying there and sobbing silently, trying to collect her breath and clumsily stand up to go to the bathroom. Some part of him regretted his act and seeing his beloved sister in such a state was bringing him no pleasure. He couldn’t take this back now, though, and he didn’t want to. It just had to be done.
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The room was dead silent. Old Bene Gesserit woman was staring at Countess Rabban in disbelief and the young woman held her head down with her hands clasped around her abdomen as if she was protecting her spawn from The Reverend Mother’s gaze.
Both Baron Harkonnen and Duke Atreides looked displeased but only the second one was also visibly disgusted. His son was standing by his side; shocked and scared. Saddened. Disappointed.
Glossu Rabban’s face showed nothing but disappointment and disgust as well. His anger was aimed mostly at his younger brother. He refused to believe his sister could be as rotten as Feyd-Rautha – the only person in the room who actually looked proud as he straightened himself and smirked at everyone gathered inside.
“What are you smiling about, boy?” The Reverend Mother scolded him. “Have you got any idea what you have done?”
“I’ve claimed my sister as my own. It is an old tradition of the Great Houses to practise,” he reminded her.
“Which was abandoned a long time ago for a reason!” The Bene Gesserit snapped at him. “Your sister was supposed to give birth to Paul Atreides’ son and bring Kwisatz Haderach to life!”
“I do not care about your schemes,” Feyd rolled his eyes as he moved closer to his sister.
“Stay away from her,” Glossu barked.
“Or what? She’s already carrying my child inside of her, is she not?” Feyd asked, proudly as most of the room flinched with disgust.
“She can still bear Kwisatz Haderach,” The Baron tried to desperately save the situation. “We can get rid of that spawn inside of her and still give her to Paul Atreides. Obviously, not as a wife anymore,” he assured Duke Leto. “As a whore that she apparently is.”
Feyd clenched his jaw at his words as he took a step ahead of (Y/N) and covered her body with his from the sight.
“Over my dead body any of you will touch my sister or my child,” he drawled through gritted teeth.
“Inbreeding your bloodline might have morbid consequences,” The Reverend Mother informed him. “She’s carrying a demon.”
Feyd snorted at her. Was he supposed to be scared of her words? They only made him even more proud.
At those words, Baron Harkonnen squinted his eyes at the Bene Gesserit woman. He visibly liked the idea of having demonic heirs as well.
“I've changed my mind. We will not get rid of the child,” he decided. “Feyd-Rautha is my na-baron. If he chooses to marry his twin sister, then that is his right,” he said.
“That is plain disrespect!” Duke Leto raised his voice. “We have agreed to this union despite the bride being… not of the best quality. We have brought our son here, to this poisoned planet and nothing but humiliation awaited him here.”
Duke Leto pushed his son lightly in the direction of the doors as they walked out, offended. The guards looked at The Baron Harkonnen questioningly.
“Let them go,” he chuckled. “Soon, their time will come anyway.”
“Not before we secure young Paul Atreides’ bloodline!” The Reverend Mother widened her eyes at him as she ran after Duke Leto. “My Lord, please wait, I have another brides to offer that will suit your son just right…!” Her voice disappeared when the heavy doors closed behind them all.
“So, it’s settled,” Baron Harkonnen took a look at his nephews and niece as he puffed on his pipe and sighed. “You owe me for that, Feyd,” he pointed out and his young nephew bowed down. “I knew that you children would bring me nothing but trouble.”
“I am sorry!” Glossu exclaimed all of sudden as everyone looked at him, surprised. “I am sorry for failing, uncle! I was supposed to look after her, to protect her, to make sure everything goes right…”
“But everything did go right,” Baron Harkonnen laughed contemptuously. “(Y/N), darling, come here…” He reached his hand out and the young woman nodded her head before approaching her uncle, obediently. “When you were a little baby, I wanted to get rid of you,” he admitted as he held her hand. “Your brother Glossu was the one to convince me you would be useful one day. He swore to raise you.”
(Y/N) didn’t react to those words. She only stood there and looked deep into her uncle’s eyes.
“Turns out he was right,” The Baron continued, “you are very useful for The House Harkonnen. You will bear us strong heirs that shall take over the whole Empire…” He hummed and she nodded. “From now on, even before your wedding to your brother, you will be known as Countess (Y/N) Harkonnen. I adopt you,” he announced as her eyes sparkled.
“Thank you, uncle,” she let go of his hand to take a step back and bow her head down.
Feyd stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. Glossu was staring at them as if he wanted to kill them both at that moment. Even his baby sister whom he had raised was suddenly more important in the family hierarchy than him.
“You have my blessing,” The Baron told them and dismissed them all with a wave of his hand.
Feyd walked his sister out of the throne room with his hands still on her shoulders. He was as protective as ever with her now when she was in her delicate state.
He took her back to their shared chambers to which she had returned recently. He sat her down on the edge of his bed and approached the vanity table to get a brush before sitting behind her and taking care of her long, white hair. Delicately working on every small tangle, sniffing the scent of her favourite hair oils, smiling to himself at the thought he would have her for himself forever from now on.
“Are you happy, dear sister?” He asked as he gathered her hair to throw it out of her left shoulder and place a kiss on the exposed skin of her neck.
“We belong together,” she answered, her hands still clasped on her abdomen protectively as if that demonic spawn inside of her needed protection. “I was made for you,” she added.
She would not get away from Giedi Prime. She would not be given to any lord and run away from The Harkonnens. In fact, now she was a Harkonnen, too. Her fate was to rule alongside Feyd-Rautha as his sister-wife.
“I asked, are you happy, dear sister?” He repeated the question, squinting his eyes at her.
She took a deep breath in. She knew that he would know if she lied to him but she didn’t feel the need to hide anything from him. Therefore, she spoke the truth:
“I am.”
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MASTERLIST
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je-sus-callsmedaddy · 23 hours
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Tԋҽ Sσϝƚҽʂƚ Lσʋҽ
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summary: sometimes all you need is a gentle lover and a comforting hand, Jacaerys knows this all too well with you at his side and a crown at his temple request: Hii can I request a softest love prompt 2&7 for Jace:)))) pairing: King!Jacaerys x reader pronouns: she/her dividers by: saradika and cafekitsune wordcount: 2,659  prompts: 2. touching foreheads in a hug, 7. that gaze--tired, soft, their thumb gently rubbing your cheek, noses touching, silently mumbling an "i love you" banners by myself A/N: i really hope you enjoyed this anon! let me know!
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“AND IF we are unable to find said payment or refuse, then it is a reasonable assumption to make that–” The droning speech of Isembard Arryn, Master of Coin, continues despite the Jacaerys’ clenching jaw and slitted gaze. “War is no solution.” Lord Cregan Stark swiftly interrupts him, glancing his King’s way as the words pass him. It is no secret that the King is not fond of division nor war. Jacaerys stays staring ahead, gaze hard and impenetrable. “We have the money.” He contributes, voice uncharacteristically gruff. You squeeze his hand but as quickly as you can blink, he brings your palm to his lips and places a deft kiss there. Soft and gentle as it had always been. The council pauses at the motion then returns to the matter. They shift in discomfort, they continue to look at his stiff form. “I believe, our liege, that–” Lord Thaddeus Rowen, Master of Laws and lord justiciar begins. “My Hand is right, let us rest on the matter.” Jacaerys snaps briskly. Lord Rowen clears his throat and lets a childish huff pass him. “The decision should be made with haste, your grace, Lord Baratheon shall not be so kind. He will–” Arryn presses further before– “We will let it rest!” Jacaerys shouts with suddenness. He stands and slams one cold, commanding fist against the table. Each breath is held at such an outburst and for once, the King is not blinking at the nothingness of a floor or blankly ahead. Purpose takes flight in his eyes, directing their focus as sharp as a blade on the infuriating man. 
Silence presides over the table, It echoes and flickers with the rage of a King’s charge. Your King had spoken and if his council continued to defy him, you were certain that it would end less than favourably for them. And so, you circle your thumb of his hand and latch your eyes on the side of his face until the pull of your attention tugs him back to you. His eyes lock on your own–at first they stare with the stark hardness of stone. They swim with slitted irritation and glare with a gruffness unknown to you. But he is still your Jacaerys and it takes not long before he softens at your own gaze, you are enough to gentle him. You always are. Jacaerys swallows and turns his gaze back on his dispersing council. “I meant not to frighten you.” He uttered quietly. His body lightened like a feather and his sights trained on the stone table before him. As easily as he does so, you stand and cup his face with your unarmed hand. Your fingers flatten against his face and turn him once more before you. “You could never frighten me.” You reply simply, closing your eyes. Simpleness was your most favourable quality. Everything you cast him was with ease, no secrets stood between you both. It was a relief after so long at troublesome court for you both. A bated huff fluttered with purpose through his nose and it took little for the both of you to rest your foreheads together. He releases shuddered breaths which follow the seam of your mouth. “I love you.” He whispers. A smile pinches at your lips. “I love you too.” You return as the doors swing shut. Another sigh passes through your husband and relaxation washes over him. 
Finally everyone has left, Jacaerys’ arms wrap around you and fingers are already pawing at your gown. It comforts him to feel you, to clench that fabric up in his balled hands and know you’re there. What feels even better however is when a warm, firm kiss is planted against your forehead. And then you hear the most lyrical words…“I love you so much I can barely breathe.” And you let out a shaky exhale. You flutter against him and it almost entices his arms to hold you tighter. The sweetness of his voice plays like a melody through your ears until they circle your brain and lull it to stop the whirring. The whirring that had become so painfully familiar. So painfully consistent. It reminds you of your lover. Not your husband but your lover. The marriage had been chosen for you but that did not mean that your love had been, as Jacaerys cares to remind you each eve as he twists those silken fingers through your hair, as he kisses his affection down your neck until caressed bruises lay in his wake and colour with the pink of his love. Because he does love you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you, he loves–He loves to be yours, he reminds you as he pulls away. The drapes flutter the cold air inside as swiftly as you can imagine wings could. It folds over you in the space between yourself and your husband. Slowly, your eyes open to find him already gazing at you with his wear lovesick gaze. The gaze that buckles your knees and has you unable to as much as glance away from him. Not for a single moment. 
A shaky sigh sputters from The King of Just’s lips. The people had named him as such after the activities of his on-running reign. Of the odd mercy that he had approached his former enemies with. You think of these events as his fingers dance into your hair. His eyes follow fast to his own actions, fascinated in the treasure within those fingers. Of what he has been blessed to hold, he vows to hold you dearly. Tenderly. Softly. As he does so, your own sights linger on his face. At his pillowed lips and dark, thick eyelashes. At the short scar that stretches along his jaw and chin. The tips of your own fingers flutter toward it like a moth to light. Your thumb lays gentle touch upon it and smooths along the surface. Again, a sigh passes through him but with the gentleness of a doe. With the timid, uncertain glance of a doe. The thought amuses you but you allow it to settle. Breath threads between you both and tugs you ever closer. Ever where you belong. But when he finally presses a kiss to your lips, it barely greets the skin. There is something divinely religious in the way he caresses your lips with his like an idol. Worship dances along his tongue and almost expels prayers from his warm mouth. His thumb detangles from your hair and cups your face. His thumb rolls slow circles into your cheek as his kisses press on between unkempt words. “I love you.” He utters in repetition. “I love you, I love you,” His nose burrows into the side of your own until you almost become one body entwined only with itself. The words tangle themselves in the sweetest patterns throughout your brain and chest. 
Your face turns to face the tall dark door. “They must know that war will not be sustainable.” Utters through you, the spell of confusion and aged bewilderment leaves through an exhale. “We have funds to cease such affairs, why cause a fate of destruction?” Jacaerys feels his jaw soften and his eyes stare distantly into your face. With two gentle fingers, he turns you back towards him. “Men will destroy aplenty for power. I know that all too well.” His gruff words murmur through the air. Your eyes stare into the harsh darkness of his gaze – warm amber turns to stone. Your eyes continue to trace down his ridged nose and chiselled jaw, his plump lips. Something possesses you to caress them with your thumb – slowly parting them until his teeth peek out like shining pearls. His throat bobs but his shoulders stay calm as he leans in again. Jace had been not only your dearest love but your most sweet and that meant more to you than words could ever detail. His lips brush against yours before diving between them and all you can remember is that he feels like home. Jace feels like home. Your Jace. His soft love addresses you and only you – he needs not hide it from anyone. Not even from irritative lords in council chambers. Because you were not only his wife but his Queen. And he has no intent to keep that a discretion. His kiss blossoms your flesh like the blooming of your affection; tentative, tender and tenacious. You would not release it for the world. Not for any Kingdom or cure from mortality for you would happily die in his embrace. Endure any erratic wars or gruelling hardship. It is hard to imagine that you would ever deny him your kiss – the memory flutters the reverberation of a laugh from your mouth. 
Jacaerys has never thought himself one to offend but even less so to cater to the whimsy of romance, yet the moment your laugh reaches his ears, he feels himself reflect one himself. The hair of his fringe passes your own forehead as your press ever-closely together. The thought of parting from you for even a moment brings him heartache. His hands wrap atop the circle of your waist and squeeze with a playfulness unknown to those outside your threshold. “What is that which has you fluttering?” He delights in good charm. He cups your face with one broad, warm hand and rubs the skin. “Hm? What has my dereworthy darling fluttering so?” His amusement only triggers you moreso. When you return him your gaze, Jacaerys can recall why he wished to paint your face upon glass. He wishes to keep your sculpted, smiling face forever in view. It matters not should you outlive him so long as he need not spend a single moment without the sweet, shining eyes of yours. The brows of his face cannot help but droop at your mere sight. His expression stays tender and intense. How could he ever meet a woman of your beauty? He is certain that your charms were not merely a gift of Gods but the heavens themselves. “My joy, I nearly refused you.” It is that of befuddlement which pinches and clouds your pleasant face. A shake of your head rustles the strands of your hair. “How could I ever have refused you? My heart…” 
A chuckle rumbles throughout the King’s chest and he tucks the brushes of hair behind your ears. His sights skid across your features but not in search – he has every answer he could ever need and in the safest of vaults. The vault of his heart. You truly were the sweetest of wines, the holder of hidden truths and the wielder of worlds – his at least. “Tis not your fault, you had not met my charms until our day.” At the mention of such a date, he earned his years of prize – your smile. “To all truth, such an hour frightened me once.” “I know.” He murmured, grinning like a feline. “Of course, then I knew too.” Your eyes widened and the shortest intake rushed to your mouth. “Surely, you jest!” You all but scold, horror in your eyes. He shakes his head, humour all-consuming as he doubles over and squeezes his eyes. “I do not!” Jacaerys claims. “I was quite nerved by it, for what reason is it that had you to assume I not taken you to bed that eve if not your considerations?” His left brow rises and the air suddenly feels stifling. “I…” You stumble with abash. “I had presumed you had not taken a liking to me yet.” At that, Jace is quick to disagree and nuzzle his nose to yours. “I could never not want for you, sweet wife. You are the most beautiful of women and the most kind.” Your head tilts in that darling way that it only calls for when you are unclued. “For days I–” His voice lowers, his gaze flickers over your face. With a swallow, he summons his courage and rubs his thumb over your jawline. “For days, I took witness to your reading in the gardens. To my cousin on her walks there.” 
You had not realised he had seen you with little Jaehaera. The recollection of memories flushes your cheeks. You do not know whether it is your own self-pride or embarrassment. It makes him smile–how easily he can fluster you. “I saw you while passing a window and…Well, you charmed me. Heart and soul, you charmed me.” For a moment, all he can do is stare into your eyes, his gaze soft. “I…” You hesitate, wracking your mind for any clue of the past to which you had ignored but you find nothing. “I had no idea.” You murmur with the quietness of a newborn lamb. He only smiles. “I know, my darling.” Tease carries through his voice. “That is why I love you so; you had not a clue as to anyone witnessing you and your beauty at all.” Adoration was not new to Jacaerys; he had been well accustomed to the Goddess before him for years now. The hand not upon your face runs small circles on your middle. “It is when nobody is watching that I see your heart.” He lands a feather-light kiss to your nose. “I love you, my darling, I love you.” 
Your love is one of quiet halls and whispered confessions. Your love is of a King seeking for the mercy only his QUeen can bring him. The mercy of a gentle home. A gentle life amidst the meddling and politics of a life forever in court. You admit that your own love for your husband came later–the fear of marrying a prince heavy on your mind. The expectation that would come with that also gives no bounds. You still recall how trembles had shaken your form as your father hurried you through the luxurious spectacle. The aisle had been a long, empty space in where you could barely catch the face of your soon-husband and Septon. Surrounded by men and women, ladies and lords of note and yet you had not known nor met. Yet when you had finally forced your figure to stand beside the three men who would cement your future, the only calm you found was through the comfort and Jacaerys’ hand resting on yours. Both of your fates to be entwined and tied. You were together, hands warm and clammy with nerves but together. You were not alone. When he searched your eyes for any hesitance throughout the ceremony and whispered in your ear to ask if you were certain–that was when you knew. You were not alone. He would not allow you to be alone. 
Now, as tears kiss your cheeks. Of affection and warmth–you can still see that look in his gaze. That kind, soft, assurance that you are not alone. “I love you.” You whispered to him, unable to hold back. It does not take long at all for him to press his lips to yours again. His hands caress your face and his care is unavoidable. And when you parted, he still chased for you. “We should retire to bed. The children will have missed us.” You explain quietly, reluctant to leave. A sigh spills from him and although you both stand there together for another second of tenderness, of softness, you know that he agrees. Ever the dutiful father. He would not let a single eve leave them without a story before their rest. “Do you think they would prefer another tale of Nymyria?” “I think they would care greatly for it.” You agree. He takes your hand in his and draws you out of the chamber. The door closes quietly and so are your footsteps as the two of you walk through the hall. The soft rays of sunlight passing down to caress the dusk echoes around you. And like his love–some things are better kept soft. 
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General Taglist: - @hopelesswritergall - @succnfuccubus - @madame-fear
HOTD Taglist - @wrendermedone - @its-actually-minicika - @gettheetoanunneryimmediatly - @adelusionalwriter - @cookielovesbook-akie - @maximofftwinsbitch - @ughhthisbitch - @daenerysapologist - @savagemickey03
Jacaerys Taglist - @fairysluna - @jacevelaryonswife - @maximofftwinsbitch
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je-sus-callsmedaddy · 24 hours
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This might be a little out there… but can I humbly request feyd rautha x reader where reader is a ward of the Harkonnens and has grown up with Feyd but his feelings have changed since they have gotten older and she catches him watching her while she’s naked in the bath 👀 and smut ensues 👀 kinda step sibling vibes if that makes sense
You most certainly can!! I love this idea, thank you for letting me run it up in my imagination 😋 sorry if it’s a bit short !!!
“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” — feyd rautha x reader
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Summary: see request
Pairing: feyd rautha x fem!reader
Word count: 1K
Warnings: SMUT, 18+, mature language, unprotected sex, sex in a bathtub (is that even a warning idk), probably typos you know meee
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You’d be lying if you said your days were filled with excitement, but being a ward for the Harkonnen’s, they were still rather exhausting. All day, from the moment you wake, you must be paying absolute attention to everything and everyone.
Finally, it was your time to unwind and get yourself ready for bed. The weight of your obligations lifted as you retreated to the sanctuary of your quarters. With a heavy exhale, you shed the layers of clothing that draped your frame.
Standing before the bath, you hesitated momentarily, savoring the anticipation of the forthcoming release. With deliberate movements, you lowered yourself into the welcoming embrace of the warm water. Instantly, you felt your muscles relax. You laid your head back gently against the tub, shutting your eyes, a small sigh escaping your lips again, however this one a sigh of content.
You reached for the washcloth that was draped over the edge of the tub. You dipped it into the warm water, allowing the fabric to soak up the soothing liquid before bringing it to your skin. Starting with gentle strokes, you traced the contours of your body. The sound of water dripping from the cloth, meeting the water you were sitting in echoed against the walls of the bathroom.
Once you were satisfied with your cleanliness, you allowed yourself to relax once again.
“I know you’re there, Feyd Rautha.” You said, your voice breaking the silence of the room. There was a pause, before his low chuckle shattered the stillness. He emerged from the shadows with the elegance of a predator stalking its prey. He approached you, wearing nothing but the thin black cloth that covered his groin.
“How’d you know it was me?” He asked, his voice, even huskier than usual, cut through the steam-filled air, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Leave, I’m bathing.” You insisted, your tone firm despite the flutter of nerves that danced in your belly. But Feyd was not deterred. He approached, his eyes alight with a hunger that could not be sated.
He hummed in response. “Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he remarked, reminding you that when you were children it wasn’t uncommon for you all to bathe together.
“Yes it is, I’m not a little girl anymore,” you countered.
“Believe me,” he growled, “I know.”
You looked up at him. At his body. Your eyes traced each outline of every defined muscle he had to offer. Your gaze lingered on him, drinking in every detail, until finally, it fell lower, drawn inexorably to the undeniable evidence of his erection straining against the thin fabric that barely concealed it. He let you gape at his body, enjoying it profusely.
Your entire body felt a chill, goosebumps covering your skin. He stepped into the bath, settling himself at the opposite end. He leaned towards you, and you could feel his breath against your damp skin as he spoke.
“I will be gentle with you. You will be so wet when I slide inside you.”
His words, the way they slipped past his lips, were meant to entice you. And they worked.
“Feyd,” you spoke his name quietly, breathily.
He took your arms in either of his hands, pulling your body over his. You settled yourself gently over him. He inhaled sharply at the feeling of the soft flesh of your pussy lips lightly touching the sensitive skin of his cock. His large hands found their way to your tits, squeezing them. Your nipples hardened under the caress of his thumbs. He kissed you, hungrily. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, seeking yours out. Your kiss became desperate, hurried, passionate. He bit down on your lip, causing you to moan into his mouth. You lifted yourself off him, letting his cock stand straight, then you slid down, impaling yourself on his thick shaft. He moved slowly, teasing you, until you were seated all the way to the hilt.
You felt so tight around him. He moved with incredible slowness, waiting for the feeling of your muscles to stop clenching around him, the sign that you were adjusted to him. He reached between your legs, finding your clit, rubbing it with firm strokes, making you moan. Finally feeling you relax around him, he began to thrust in and out of you, harder and faster, making you moan louder, squeeze your eyes shut. You dug your nails into the skin of his shoulders, drawing blood as you gripped him. He lifted your leg, letting your foot rest in his left hand as he was able to reach an ever deeper angle, his right hand still using his thumb on your clit. Cries fell from your lips as the water sloshed around you, smacking his chest and splashing your face.
“Look at me,” he commanded. When you opened your eyes, they landed on his, piercing you, holding you. That was all it took. With one final cry of his name, you came with such force, it caught him by surprise, making him lose placement on your clit, just long enough for his fingers to find it again, drawing every last drop of pleasure out of you as your orgasm wracked your body. He came inside of you, a primal grunt coming from his lips with every spurt of his hot cum shooting deep inside of you. He kissed your lips once more, shutting his eyes as he panted. You collapsed onto his chest, his strong arms wrapping around your back, providing you with some warmth. The water in the tub was cold now, but neither of you moved to get out, too content, exhausted and sated like this.
“We are not children anymore,” he snarled, “I have wanted you for some time now.”
“Na-Baron may have whatever he desires.” You whispered in his ear. He rested his hand on the back of your head, gently pressing your face to lie against the skin on his shoulder.
“Correct.” He whispered in reply.
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‼️E- SIMS FOR SUDAN‼️
If you or a family member need an E-SIM please let me know and I’ll get you one, below is the list of compatible device❗️
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18+ Steve Harrington x F! reader, friends to lovers, skinny dipping, PIV sex, unprotected sex, semi public sex, pool sex WC:1.9K
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A/N: Feeling very rusty so I'm attempting to dust the cobwebs off my brain and get back into the swing of things with a little bit of Steve filth.
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This will they won't they thing was starting to get old.
The casual flirting between you and your neighbor had ramped up in the last month, but you knew him well enough to realize when he's pulling back on the reins, even if subtly.
Up until now you'd enjoyed the way Steve's gaze wandered over you and the playful banter that tended to edge towards suggestive. You'd even glimpsed the only semblance of 'King Steve' that'd remained ever since he turned his whole image inside out a few years ago — that slight, but thankfully tolerable air of playboy confidence you couldn't find in yourself to dislike despite how you made sure to roll your eyes whenever it appeared.
But things were starting to fizzle out now, you could feel it. This thing that had started to brew between you and Steve seemed to be following the trajectory of a bottle rocket — the chemistry you shared soared for a while but now the chances of things becoming serious appeared to be heading for a nosedive.
Your discerning eyes were too sharp, noticing the flickers of hesitation and trepidation that peeked through when he spoke with you now, less flirting as of late, more awkward floundering and not the adorable kind.
You don't know it yet but the reason was because all those fears he'd thought he'd long outrun had started to shadow him again, afraid of things panning out like they always had in his love life.
The Harrington charm drew the girls in like bumblebees to pollen, everything turning sticky sweet for a while but it always ended the same way — with Steve getting stung.
He's gotten in his head about it — every bad date, every lousy hook up, every ounce of self doubt he'd tried hard to swallow down regurgitating back up in his mind like bile. He'd even begun to second guess if you really wanted him the way he wanted you, scared of messing things up if he were to make a real move because he doesn't want to lose you. Not after all the years of liking you so much.
Oblivious to his internal turmoil, you only know that the waiting's been hell on you, feeling more than a little fed up of all the flirting that hadn't led to anything more than a spike in sexual tension and a bunch of almost kisses a couple of times you'd been alone with Steve.
Almost wasn't good enough.
You wanted to show him that you were serious about him — no more bullshit. You were determined to go after what you wanted, taking it upon yourself to make the first move, knowing it'll have to be something big if you were going to really convince him.
And you have the perfect thing in mind.
~
Given he was supposed to be the only one home at this hour, the sound of swashing water echoing from the pool deck comes off more alarming than anything else.
Ears trained in that direction, Steve quietly steps closer towards the noise, cautiously placing one foot in front of the other like he's walking a tightrope.
Was it robbers?
No, robbers only break in to take your shit, not take a dip, he shook his head, feeling stupid he'd even considered it at all.
Speed running a list of possibilities in his mind, a slight shiver ran through him as he quietly hoped it wasn't another skunk that had wandered too close to the edge again, nearly gagging at the memory of how the scared, drenched animal had rewarded him for saving its life a few months back.
Peering out of the entry way, he reckoned he would have guessed a hundred other things before he ever would have guessed what he saw outside. Dropping his keys and jaw, he finds you wading in his pool. Unbothered and very much unclothed.
"Um...you're in my pool", he states as he steps out, dumbfounded.
"And you're..."
He doesn't say it. He wont, afraid that if he did, whatever's happening might suddenly stop. Hell, it felt far too good to be true, half expecting to bolt upright in bed at any second to find it'd been a dream all along, a tent in his plaid pajama bottoms waiting to greet him.
"I am" you confirm, knowing exactly what he'd meant to say, smiling devilishly.
With the pool lights on, your lack of swimwear is obvious against the blue tiles although the rippling water surface obscures your body enough to prevent him from getting a clear look at you no matter how much he squints in an attempt to focus.
"You sure know how to keep a girl waiting, Harrington", you chide, moonlight making your wet skin glitter like topaz.
"Huh?", Steve shakes his head, the jolt crackling up the length of his spine feeling far too real to be part of a dream. This is happening. This is really fucking happening, thunders and echoes inside his head, the realization making his palms turn clammy — the first time since his teens that a girl's elicited that kind of bodily reaction out of him.
"Got tired of waiting for you to nut up and make a move", you wade closer to the edge of the pool with all the allure of a siren approaching shore, the tops of your breasts showing above the surface.
"I want you, Steve", you beckon to him sweetly. Sincerely. "Come join me. It's lonely in here", you finish with a little pout.
He's never undressed quicker in his entire life — all of those nerves and doubts ironed out of him with that one simple confirmation.
You watch as his belt is unbuckled in a flurry, shirt following as it's tossed off to the side. It occurs to you then to offer him a modicum of privacy because it feels like the right thing to do, placing your hands over your eyes until he submerges himself into the water with you. But not before you submit to another urge, sneaking one quick peek between your fingers, your cheeks growing hot when you glimpse his half hard length dangling between his legs.
Covering your eyes again, you wait for him to join you, growing giddy when you feel him enter the water and wade closer to you.
You're met with that hopelessly moony smile of his when he gently pries your hands away from your face. "You always leave your clothes behind when you trespass or is this a new thing for you?", he asks, pearly teeth peeking out as his smile widens into a grin.
You laugh back, a little surprised that you'd gone through with it yourself. "Gonna beef up security around here if I keep it up?", you joked lightly, earning a chuckle from your neighbor.
"Fuck no. I'll even take down the fence so you don't have to hop it next time", he grinned harder, deviously handsome in the moonlight.
Your toes brush his as you wade a little closer, a shiver running through you despite the warmth of the water you're chest deep in. "It was between this or surprising you in your car", you told him, sharing the plan you'd concocted the night before. "You know— trench coat, hide in the backseat. Pretty classy stuff but then I thought about it a little more and realized it sounded kinda sketchy", you made a face, scrunching up your nose. "Didn't want you to think you were getting carjacked or something", you huffed another laugh.
Steve pales a little, laughing along nervously, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"Hadn't even thought of that", he lied, glad he didn't rush out here swinging his bat like he would have had he not convinced himself otherwise about the robbers.
As the amusement tapers you focus your stare on the rise and fall of Steve's chest and the hair matted against it, pressing a hand there to feel his taught, wet skin.
There's a lull in your banter as his hands find your waist and your own starts to trail down, gliding over the plane of his soft stomach, fingers dipping underwater to skim the coarse trail of hair below his bellybutton.
Your touches are delicate for a start, fingers curling around Steve's erection as you feel him twitch in your palm, your thumb gently sweeping over the bump of a vein before trailing up to find his tip.
You meet his gaze when you glide the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, smooth and from what you can tell, sensitive from the way his breath stutters and his length flexes in your hand.
The waiting comes to an end then.
Steve leans in as quickly as you do, lips meeting yours, the scent of chlorine strong on your bodies, his chest pressing against your breasts. It's a dizzying minute of his tongue hungrily brushing against yours before he pulls you up by the underside of your thighs, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist.
Your body reacts quickly, crossing your ankles behind his back. His shaft nudges your clit from this angle and it makes you whine into his mouth, all needy from being deprived this kind of intimacy because of how he'd held back all those weeks.
He pulls away from the kiss to look as you, cupping your cheek with his hand.
"I know baby, I know. Made you wait for it too long didn't I? Don't worry I'm going to give it to you now, okay?", he coos, one part reassuring one part cocky.
Your core aches with anticipation when he says it, desire heavy and burning in your belly.
"Steve wait", you cut him off before his lips can come down on yours again.
"Yeah?"
"Could you— could you do it rough? that's how I want it", you tell him, digging your nails into his biceps. You're in no mood for anything soft or slow. Not right now. Not after waiting this long.
"Whatever you want— I'll give you anything you want", he promises, leaning in to kiss you again.
It doesn't take long for the swashing to recommence, building up to a loud, choppy splashing. Your back will carry evidence of how he has you pressed against the side of the pool tomorrow, arms wrapped around his neck as his tip meets your entrance and he works it inside, his length rutting into your soft core, punching out a chorus of moans and whimpers wrapped around his name.
Before he's completely lost to the warm, wet tightness of your walls wrapping around him, Steve only prays that none of his other neighbors care enough to peek over because if they did, things were bound to get awkward at the next block party.
"Promise me you w-won't go cold on me again", you beg when he locates that spot inside you, the head of his cock dragging over it just right.
"I promise", he answers, unclenching his jaw to nip at your bottom lip. "Promise me you'll go out with me after this? be my girlfriend?"
It nearly sends you reeling, being asked the question you'd been waiting to hear for weeks now as he's literally inside you, making your orgasm approach faster.
Smiling hard, you're still letting out little uh's and ah's because he doesn't let up his pace, driving his cock into you, all hard and fast just like how you wanted.
You couldn't wait to keep making up for all that time you spent doing anything that wasn't this, gasping out your answer.
"I promise"
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“Did you cum without me?” — feyd rautha x reader
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Summary: Feyd Rautha, your husband, knows you very very well. He knows what your sex smells like, and he’s not pleased when he can sense it on you despite not having seen you at all that day. He reminds you that you aren’t to touch yourself, and that making you cum is his job
Pairing: feyd rautha x fem!reader
Word count: 1K
Warnings: SMUT, 18+, mature language, unprotected sex, p in v, masturbation insinuated, squirting depicted, probably typos sorrryyyy
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Feyd stirred from slumber before you as always, a habitual gesture that allowed you the luxury of lingering in bed as long as you pleased. However, you didn’t see him at breakfast either, hinting at his preoccupation with Na-Baron duties.
All day you found yourself restless and bored, ennui gnawing at you, more than ever typical. You even spent almost two hours in the bath, just trying to make time pass. Spending hours and hours alone, your mind started to wander. Your hands followed suit. You found yourself lying in your’s and Feyd’s shared bed, writhing beneath your own touch. You laid on his side of the bed, his smell helping feed your fantasies as you succumbed to orgasm by your self indulgence. And, once not being enough, for a second time.
Only minutes later you peeled yourself up off the bed, washed your hands, and were once again making your way aimlessly through the Harkonnen residence. To your delight, you heard your husband’s voice resonating through a nearby hallway, and quickly made that your destination. He smiled as he saw you, reaching out for your hand briefly, to acknowledge that he hadn’t seen you all day. As you passed him, he turned his head, inhaling deeply. You continued walking, but he quickly grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.
He pulled you closer, his face just inches from yours. You could feel his warm breath against your skin as he sniffed your skin. Suddenly, he pulled back, his eyes narrowing.
“Did you cum without me?” he asked, his voice low and menacing.
“No,” you lied, trying to pull away from his grasp. But he was too strong. A growl rumbled from deep within him, a reaction to your lie. He could smell you. Harkonnen men were surprisingly gentlemanly and yet so, so primal in nature. The scent of your orgasm on your skin was certainly not one unfamiliar to him.
“Then you won't be too sensitive to cum right now,” he growled, his hand already making its way between your thighs. The men he was talking to quickly took their cue to leave, leaving you alone in the hallway.
You tried to protest, but it was too late. He had already pushed your skirt up and was fingering you roughly. You could feel your clit swelling and becoming sensitive, but he didn't seem to care.
“Push through it,” he commanded, his voice laced with possessiveness, his fingers moving faster and faster. You did as you were told, biting your lip to keep from crying out. But it hurt, and you couldn't help but squirm under his touch.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
With his right hand still playing with your pussy, he used his left to flick his belt undone. One handedly, he freed his already hard cock from his pants, lining himself up at your entrance.
His arms snaked around your waist, holding your body flush against his as he slowly pressed himself inside of you. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling of him finally filling you up, like that itch was finally being scratched. He gripped you by the jaw, pulling out of you softly before slamming back into you.
“I make you cum,” he growled, “Me. Not you.”
“Understand?” He barked, pounding another hard thrust into you.
“Y-yes.” You stuttered, watching as he clenched his jaw in pleasure.
“Say my name,” he demanded.
“Yes, Feyd. You make me cum. Only you.”
“Good, darling, good,” he purred, lightly circling your clit with his thumb as he continued to fuck you, there, standing in the corridor.
His grip on your jaw eased, you took the opportunity to press your lips to his, in a burning kiss. You descended into a mess of moans and whimpers as he softly pressed his tongue into your mouth. His hips started to lose rhythm, your noises helping draw him closer to orgasm. He focused his attention on his thumb, rubbing your clit with the perfect pressure and pattern he'd come to learn so well for you.
“That's it,” he whispered to you. “Come for me.” And you did. With a scream he loved so very much, a gush of liquid spilled out of you. Marvelling at the sight in front of him, he continued to work your clit, watching as your squirt continued to stream from between your legs, his pants and boots sprayed with it, a puddle around both of your feet. Never having felt an orgasm so strong, your body threatened to give out as you shook and moaned, letting the last lingering bits of your orgasm out.
His strong arms held you up, as he continued thrusting. You felt his cock twitching inside of you, and with a low, strung out grunt, he spilled his black seed into you, fucking it as far into your vagina as he could. You clenched your walls around him the way he liked, milking him for all he was worth.
He pressed his forehead to yours, catching his breath. “Mine, darling,” he mumbled, slowly pulling himself out of you.
“Yours, Feyd.” You whispered, also still panting. Feyd looked at you, his eyes filled with love and satisfaction, an expression he had reserved for you alone.
“It is my job to make you cum. You do not take that away from me, do you understand?” He reminded you.
“Yes.” You nodded as he cupped your face in his hands.
“Good,” he kissed your cheek, “look at the mess you've made.” Your eyes fell to the floor, you blushed as you noticed the puddle you stood in.
“Go, get dressed for supper.” Even when he spoke softly there was still that harsh rumble in his voice. You obliged, heading back to your chambers.
At the dinner table, you walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I love you,” you whispered in his ear, feeling his muscles flex in reaction to your voice.
He turned to face you, his eyes dark with desire. “I love you too,” he said, before standing up to pull your chair out for you to sit beside him.
A/N it’s currently 1am I got home from seeing dune part 2 about an hour ago but I absolutely couldn’t go to sleep without giving y’all something ;))
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"Matter Of State" - Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader
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a/n: combined two anon requests - one for atreides!reader dreaming of feyd and offering her hand to spare paul and one for free use with atreides!reader hehehehe 🩷
Summary: You meet the man of your dreams under less than ideal circumstances.
TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, feyd rautha's black cum oop, inkpie, breeding kink, cousin incest, oral f receiving, overstim, p in v sex, paul gets stabbed RIP but he lives!
Word Count: 2,500
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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All your life you’ve dreamed of him. You can’t remember a time when you didn’t know him, in whatever strange way this is. It always starts the same way. He stands in the desert, one arm extended toward you, his hand reaching out for you to take it. He pulls you into his embrace, staring down at you with those intense, dark eyes. His hands are rough as they caress your face, and yet? He’s tender. It’s as if he’s afraid you’ll break if he doesn’t handle you with enough care. You don’t know his name. You only know his voice. Every time you wake, the memory of his face fades from your mind, until you fall asleep once more.
The dreams only grow more intense during your time in the desert with the Fremen. Paul had similar dreams of Chani. The two of you confided in each other about these dreams growing up - it would seem that the Atreides twins had more in common than many realized. But while Paul now has Chani in his life, your mystery lover remains just out of reach. His voice is a low rasp as he murmurs how beautiful you are, as he makes love to you in your dreams, as he promises to keep you by his side forever and make you his queen.
Perhaps your dreams aren’t like Paul’s at all. Perhaps they truly are just that. Dreams. Maybe you saw this mystery man passing in the crowd back home on Caladan and your mind ran away with itself. But your mother, wise woman that she is, always smiles at you sagely and tells you that all will be revealed when the time is right. Ever since transmuting that damn poison and being able to chatter away with your unborn sister, the woman has become insufferable.
When you, Paul, and the others storm the castle at Arrakeen, intent on avenging your father’s death, you feel the world around you come to a standstill. As Paul buries his blade in the Baron - your grandfather’s neck, your gaze meets his. The man of your dreams. You recognize him at once, your lips parting in a silent gasp as he stares back at you. It’s as though a dam breaks in your mind and every memory of every dream comes flooding back to you. Every kiss, every touch, every sweet word.
You know who he is immediately. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. The nephew of the Baron. Your cousin. He is the man you have been dreaming of all this time, the man whose fate yours is entwined with. As Paul stalks over to the Emperor, Feyd makes his way to you, too close for comfort as he leans in to whisper in your ear, taking advantage of your brother’s distraction.
“We meet again.”
His voice is exactly as you remember it, that low, seductive rasp. You open your mouth to speak, but Paul notices that who he perceives to be the enemy has cornered you and is seemingly harassing you. Your brother grabs you by the hand and keeps you at his side, demanding that the Emperor bow to him. You continue staring at Feyd, unable to tear your eyes away from him. And he seems just as keen on ignoring the politics currently at play, finding his way to stand beside you yet again.
“Did you…” You trail off, your voice echoing in Feyd’s mind as you communicate without words, taking advantage of the skills having a Bene Gesserit for a mother has afforded you, “Have the dreams too?”
His lips curl up into a smile as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear as he whispers, “Yes.”
The tension between the two of you is palpable, even as he readies himself for battle with your brother. Your attention is only on him, unable to stop thinking of the dreams you have shared with this man, this enemy of your house. His eyes lock onto yours as he makes his way to the circle, his shoulder brushing against you as he moves.
Your brother and Feyd-Rautha are evenly matched. Skill, speed, strength. It is a battle for the ages. You glance over at Chani, who seems just as nervous as you are, your nails leaving crescent-shaped marks in the skin of your palm. Your heart pounds in your chest, so hard that you fear it may burst out of your body, watching with anxiety as your beloved brother fights the man who has haunted you for so long. Feyd is every bit a specter as he moves, his motions quick and graceful, his form long and lean. You gasp in horror as he manages to bury his blade in Paul’s shoulder.
Just as he is about to strike the killing blow, you speak, just loud enough for him to hear, “Stop.”
Feyd heeds your command, though he has little choice to do so, dropping Paul to the ground along with his knives and taking a step back, meeting your gaze, his head tilted to the side as if to ask why you have deprived him of the glory of his kill. You look between your brother, who lays bleeding and wounded on the floor, though thanks to you it is not mortal, and Feyd, who stands there staring at you. You turn to the Emperor, taking a deep breath, doing your best to hide the tremble in your voice.
“If… If I offer myself to Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen… A willing bride in exchange for my brother’s life, will my lords accept?”
The Emperor looks surprised, as does your brother, but neither of them even has a chance to speak. Feyd is already stalking toward you, using the blunt edge of his blade to force you to look him in the eyes. He seems… Intrigued by the proposition.
“That was bold, little one,” he murmurs, staring down at you, “But how do you know I will spare him if I agree to your terms?”
He begins to circle you, as if appraising you, grinning to himself when you speak, “You may be cruel. But you are a man of honor. I know that if you give me your word, you will keep it.”
It surprises him, really, how well you know him despite only having met in your dreams. He lets out a hum of approval before nodding at the Emperor, indicating that he accepts your offer. The Emperor heaves a sigh and announces that the wedding is to take place in ten day’s time, that as Duke Leto’s heir, your brother will retain control of Arrakis while you and Feyd will take control of Giedi Prime.
The room begins to empty out, your brother being taken away to have his injuries cared for, Chani ever present at his side, your mother giving you a quick nod as she walks past. You absently wonder to yourself what Alia has had to say about the whole thing. Part of you doubts that she actually speaks to your mother, but you digress. Soon, it is only you and Feyd left, standing in front of each other. There is nowhere to hide from him, from his hungry gaze. All he can think is that soon, you will belong to him. When you glance at him, he is already staring, and you quickly look away. He chuckles to himself at your nervousness.
“Do you remember them?” You blurt out suddenly, “The dreams?”
He nods, his fingers brushing against yours as he speaks, “I do. Every single one is burned in my memory.”
“Me too,” you admit quietly.
The silence lingers for a moment before Feyd moves to stand in front of you, resting his finger under your chin, “Do you remember what we did in those dreams? The things I made you feel?”
“I,” you take a step back, stuttering slightly, “I’m not sure if it’s really appropriate for us to talk about that.”
Unwilling to let you get away so easily, he takes another step toward you, and another, until you are backed up against the wall, his forearm resting above your head, effectively caging you in. And yet? You don’t feel scared. You simply feel a warmth rising to your cheeks, a fluttering in your stomach as you meet his gaze once more.
“Why not? We did quite a bit in those dreams, didn’t we?” Feyd teases, moving his blade to stroke your hair, his breath warm against your face, “I remember everything. How your lips felt against mine. The way your body moved against mine. The way you tasted. It’s haunted me, tormented me for years now. And here you are, in front of me.” He moves his free hand to rest against your cheek, making your breath catch in your throat as he caresses your skin, fingers trailing down to your throat, “Just as soft as I remember.”
“Feyd…” You trail off, “I…”
Before you can finish speaking, his lips capture yours in an intense, passionate kiss, one that leaves those you’ve shared in your dreams so far behind. He’s hungry, wanting, desperate as he crushes you against him, his lips moving to your neck, biting down on your skin, his tongue soothing the tender, abused flesh moments later. Your arms wrap around him, losing yourself in his embrace, in his touch. And you wonder to yourself how in the world the Emperor expects the two of you to keep your hands off each other in the days leading up to your wedding.
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The wedding comes and passes with great pomp and ceremony. You and Feyd drink of each other’s blood and, as is the Harkonnen tradition, he hunts you down within the walls of Arrakeen. You find yourself wanting him to find you sooner than later, however, and make little effort to run from him, the two of you grinning at each other when he catches you, taking you then and there on the floor of the palace, vowing to fill you with his seed, vowing that it is not your brother who is the Chosen One, but the child you will bear him, as was always intended. Whether you agree or not doesn’t matter, because all you can think of is the pleasure he’s busy bestowing upon you as he fucks you over and over and over again.
Married life with Feyd is more than you ever could have hoped for. Your days on Giedi Prime are spent getting lost in each other. And this newlywed bliss is supported by all on your new home planet. After all, the more you couple with Feyd, the sooner the Kwisatz Haderach will be brought forth. He has no qualms walking into your meetings with the nobility of Giedi Prime and demanding everyone leave so that he can take you then and there. And you’re all the happier for it. Feyd can and will have you whenever and wherever he pleases. He is the Baron now, he holds all power over the planet. And you, his Baroness? His desire for you, his love for you renders him powerless only before you. You consume him - his thoughts, his desires, his very being.
When your mother and brother come to visit for the first time, accompanied by Chani and your newborn sister, Alia, you wonder if Feyd’s desires will continue to be so ravenous. His lust for you must be somewhat sated by this point - it’s been three months of this, after all. However, you have no such luck. In the middle of having tea with your mother and Chani, Paul off doing whatever it is that Paul does, Feyd barges into the room.
“Lady Jessica. Chani. I apologize but,” his eyes focus on you, “I require the Baroness for urgent matters of state.”
You furrow your brow, “Did something happen?”
Wordlessly, he walks toward you, heaving you over his shoulder, and stalks out of the room, making you yelp with surprise, quickly blurting out some excuse to your mother and Chani. Chani looks mildly horrified by the whole situation while your mother? Well, she seems rather pleased. After all, if Paul isn’t the Kwisatz Haderach, it will most certainly be your and Feyd’s child.
Feyd rather unceremoniously tosses you on the bed, crawling over you as he removes his clothes, smirking to himself as you protest, “You can’t just grab me like that! What the hell will my mother think of me, Feyd? That was embarrassing!”
Despite your words, he can feel the way your body reacts to him, the way he knows it better than you do, every brush of his fingertips against your sensitive skin making you shiver with desire. Feyd pushes your skirt aside, his lips immediately latching onto your core, already wet for him. He knew it. You wanted this just as bad as he did. You prop yourself up on your elbows, his gaze locked on yours, his lashes fluttering as he moans and mouths at your sensitive cunt, groaning at the taste of you, as if you’re the finest ambrosia and he grows drunk with every movement of his tongue. And when he’s made you peak, he shows no signs of stopping. Feyd’s mouth is sloppy against you, eager to taste you, devouring you completely.
“Feyd, no more,” you whine after he’s brought you to the edge for the third time, his hands grabbing at your thighs eagerly, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting you again, “It’s too much…”
“Need more,” he rasps, burying his tongue inside you again, his head moving from side to side, fucking you deeper with his tongue than before, moaning against you, the sensation making your head fall back against your pillow as you let him continue.
Finally, Feyd decides that his cock is too hard for him to resist any longer and with one fluid movement, he pushes inside you, feeling you squeeze around him impossibly tight. Even with how many times you’ve taken him, every time feels like the first, he muses as he pounds into you, his hips pistoning at a near inhuman pace, your arms wrapped around him.
“Are you going to breed me again, my Baron?” You ask breathily, your eyes locked on his, “It’s your duty after all.”
He nods eagerly, his voice a low growl in his chest as he declares, “I am. Over and over and over. I’ll fuck you so full of my seed that it drips out of that pretty little cunt, stuff you full. My pretty little wife.”
And true to his word, he fills you yet again, holding you close to him as you come down from your respective highs.
And when you walk back into the room where you left your family, your mother merely gives you a knowing smirk when you state that you were busy dealing with state matters, while Chani pointedly eyes the black stain on your dress.
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deliveries
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words: 1.2k
warnings: ex!rafe, reconciliation, kinda sugar daddy rafe but he just likes taking care of his girl mhm iktr
“can i say no?” you sigh.
“say no? did you not place this delivery?” the man raises his eyebrows.
“i didn't. my- my ex did.”
“well, i have to deliver it, ma’am, but i don't care what you do with it afterwards. give it to your friends or throw it out.” the man sets the bags of food at your doorstep, snapping a picture before walking off.
you can't blame him, plus it's probably a situation he's never encountered before.
you sigh as you pick up the bags, carrying them into the kitchen counter. packages, deliveries and letters have been showing up on your doorstep for two weeks, ever since you broke up with rafe.
you're sick of it at this point. as you go through the food, picking out something to eat for dinner (you're not just gonna let it go to waste!) you grab your phone and unblock rafes number.
you wonder how long it will take him to realize as you sit at your desk and eat. you're in an apartment complex with pretty tight security, it's the only reason why rafe isn't knocking at your door himself, instead sending whoever he can to get a message to you, while simultaneously making sure you have plenty of food to eat and things to take care of yourself with.
you answer your phone after the first ring. you deleted his contact, but rafes number is forever memorized in your head.
“stop sending me things.” 
“baby, its a relief to hear your voice again.” rafe sighs, sounding genuinely happy, like a weight is suddenly off his chest. “please, let me just talk to you. i miss you so much.”
“no, rafe. we broke up. you need to stop.” 
“why'd you break up with me? what did you tell me princess?” rafe questions. “i wasn't giving you enough attention. now im giving you everything. please, y/n.” he pleads. “im not going to stop.”
you take a deep sigh. you really love rafe, despite your relationship being only six months old when you broke up with him, it was just too much. too much attention from your friends and too much pressure from his family. it pushed your relationship farther apart until rafe barely paid attention to you, receiving constant questions from his dad and friends.
“you have to, rafe. clearly things weren't working out. we tried. we can say that. gave it a fair shot.”
“im not done trying. yes, i let my family and other people get into my head about our relationship, but im done with that bullshit. i want you back.”
“let me think about it, okay?” it's an olive branch. the best thing that you can extend right now.
“okay.” rafe agrees. “how about i call you friday?”
you glance at the calendar hanging over your desk. two days. two days to think. you're not sure it's enough or too much.
“that works… but rafe, stop sending me stuff.”
“i can't, baby.” you can practically see the way he's shaking his head right now. “gotta take care of my girl, even if you don't wanna see me.”
“fine.” you groan. you know there's no talking rafe out of it. “order me some lemonade next time then.”
--
you yawn as you wake up with a big stretch, instinctively reaching over to the other side of the bed. your hand pats the sheets before remembering that you left rafe.
you slide out of bed, heading towards your kitchen to get something for breakfast when a knock on your door interrupts you.
“one second!” you're in pajamas, but they're far too small and tight to answer the door in. you rush back into your bedroom and pull a robe on to cover up.
“hi!” the delivery woman smiles. “y/n?”
“yup.” you nod, stepping to the side. “do you mind just setting it down on the counter?”
the woman places the bags down before saying goodbye and seeing herself out. you sigh and look into the bags, eyes bulging when you see velvet boxes carefully placed inside one of them.
you pull out one of the boxes, gasping when a beautiful diamond necklace is revealed. you continue to open them, realizing rafe bought you jewelry of almost every variety.
“oh, gosh.” you grab a note, opening it to see his handwriting.
it's just what you deserve. i love you and want you back. can't wait to talk to you tomorrow.
rafe
p.s. i paid your rent for the next three months
you grab your phone before even looking in the other bag, dialing rafes number. he picks up almost instantly.
“you know you can't buy my love, right?” 
“im not trying to.” rafe says. “im just trying to take care of you. did you get the breakfast?”
you peek into the other bag, seeing a stack of delicious looking pancakes inside a clear container, as well as some other options.
“yeah, ill eat it in a minute.”
“good.” you can practically hear rafes smile over the phone.
“how about we meet up in person to talk tomorrow instead of on the phone?”
“ill go wherever you want.”
“our first date.” is all you say before hanging up, grabbing the pancakes and container holding scrambled eggs.
--
you're aware you didn't say what time as you pull up to the pier. it's a warm day, sunny with almost no clouds in the sky, but a light breeze gives you the perfect amount of cooling.
you walk down the pier, unable to hold back your smile when you see rafe sitting on the bench where you ate ice cream on your first date after finally agreeing to let him take you out.
rafe watches you carefully as you sit down next to him.
“you're wearing the necklace i got you.” he smiles, seeing the gold chain around your neck.
“i am.” you nod. 
“can i… can i hug you? ive missed you so much baby.”
you nod again, not sure you can find your voice as rafes arms wrap around your body, holding you into his side. you snuggle into his chest, eyes sliding shut. 
“love you so much.” rafe says, pressing kisses to the top of your head. “so much i messed up the first time not trying to be too obsessed. i just didn't want to make you run away, turns out i did the exact opposite and you felt ignored. you know how my dad is…” rafe trails off as you pick your head up to look at him.
“we shouldn't have let others get between us.” you know you're not innocent in it either, contributing just as much to rafe to the tension that had grown between the two of you.
“and we won't let it happen again now that we know.” rafe says, a promising look in his eyes. you swear it looks like he might cry as you nod.
he ducks his head, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss. you fist your hands in his shirt, keeping him close as you kiss back, having missed his lips on yours more than you'd like to admit.
“does this mean you'll tell security im allowed back in?” rafe laughs gently, cupping your face, his thumb gently stroking over your cheek.
“hmm, i guess.” you giggle.
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omggg hope you had a great birthday!! do u mind writing a remus x reader who realize there’s smth more than friends between them, thank youuu
🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥
remus lupin x reader
a/n: gn!reader truly idk how this escaped me. me writing for my long lost husband in the year of our lord 2024?? this was so fun it felt like reuniting with an ex anyways fluff incoming
wc: don't... look at me... 1.3k
“So?”
“So what, Prongs?” Remus huffs, flipping through a textbook. Merlin knows why he even tries to study in the common room with the boys when all they do is badger him about nonsense.
“So are you and your little friend, well…more than friends? You two are attached at the hip, so where’d the little one run off to?” James teases, whacking his best mate with a throw pillow, “Get tired of you moaning and groaning about prefect duties?”
Well, that’s…you’re definitely not nonsense.
Remus blinks, brushing his hair away from his face and glaring at James before elbowing him straight in the gut. Tosser he is, acting like he knows anything about you or relationships in general when he’s been pining after Lily for years now.
You two are just friends.
Sirius lets out a loud laugh from his place at Remus’ feet. He’s leaning against the arm of the sofa, looking up at the sandy-haired boy with a cock-eyed grin, “If they were more than friends, Moony’s moaning and groaning would be appreciated and reciprocated, don’t you think?”
Peter snickers from the loveseat across the table. It doesn’t help with Remus’ mood, so he buries his head deeper into the boring History of Magic text, grumbling, “Don’t be crass. Just friends, is all. Don’t look too hard into it or you’ll melt what’s left of your brains.”
The three instigators look at each other, before looking back at their best friend. Just friends, he says. Sure, Remus’s the nicest guy around—a prefect even; the one that people count on to be the most morally sound out of all of them, the guy that people borrow notes from, politely laughs at jokes and makes people feel included in conversations. Sure, friends—they can believe that! Everyone wants to be Moony’s friend. But it’s the way they’ve seen him treat you that stands out.
Remus usually lags behind them now, breaking apart their formation in the halls (and yes, Sirius likes to be at the front of the diamond), pushing Peter up so he can wait for you after class. Also, anyone that could distract him from taking notes in Arithmancy is surely a force to be reckoned with (and a threat to Peter’s grades). He’s even gone as far as sidling up next to you during Potions and breaking their age-old rotation of picking partners since their first year (which left James with a botched Aging Potion, and Lily laughing at him as he limped out of class with graying hair and a hunchback).
So things were different nowadays, but one thing is for sure: Remus Lupin’s favorite game is being in denial.
“Maybe your friend knows about your furry little problem, Moons. Surely you really don’t think you’re gonna get any studying done with us?” James chuckles, before pushing his glasses up to clearly see the blush blossoming on Remus’s cheeks. Though it might also be anger, he couldn’t really tell—they’ve never seen him like this, ever; so blatantly obvious with how he feels about you even though he’d never admit it. It was quite refreshing to remember that Remus is still a normal teenage boy.
“You’re right, Prongs,” he huffs.
“I am?”
“I don’t know why I even bothered to try and study with you lot if all of you are too focused on me instead of studying!” Remus is shoving his books into his knapsack as the boys continue to rib at him to get him to stay. This essay isn’t going to write itself.
“Just playing, Moons!”
“Yeah mate, if you need an actual study date we know that’s not us, just hang around!”
Remus sighs as he’s looking at his friends' shit-eating grins as they go around him showing each other the map and pointing at something.
“What now?”
There’s a knock at the portrait, and the Fat Lady’s shrill voice could be heard from where they were sitting. Peter jumps up, sticking his face over the enchanted parchment as he giggles a bit like a schoolgirl, “It’s for you. Your friend’s outside.” They all cheer and laugh at Remus shaking his head, slinging his knapsack over his shoulder walking quickly away from them.
When he sees you chatting with the Fat Lady, it’s almost as if he’s in a stupor, studying every inch of your face until your eyes finally meet his and you grin and wave at him.
Just friends, he reminds himself.
“Hey Rem! Was gonna ask if you wanted to go to the library together?”
Your voice is a treat in itself, he thinks—the lilt and manner of it so sweet and rich it almost reminds him of his favorite chocolate.
Good thing he has a sweet tooth.
Walking down the hallway together your hand bumps into his several times in passing, fingers ghosting against each other as if they were dancing, too close and then too far. Friends can hold hands right? Remus’s heart flutters as he thinks of the possibility like solving an Arithmancy problem. He supposes the boys and him don’t necessarily hold hands, but he imagines holding yours would be way nicer.
Is he sweating?
His palms are sweaty, forget it, and you’re just friends! You’re telling him about your day like you both haven’t seen each other in years, but he even sat by you at lunch earlier, much to the rest of the Marauders’ surprise. Though Remus supposes you could even make Divination sound interesting—maybe even make him look in the stupid tea leaves to see if you’re in his future, furry little problem and all. He realizes he’s been staring a second too long, bumping into you lightly as you stop in front of the library.
“Haha, you okay? You’re quiet today, Rem. Something on your mind?”
A lot about you, apparently, thanks to his meddling friends.
Remus scratches the nape of his neck as he grimaces, cheeks reddening again and instead of a response, he opens the door for you and puts his finger to his mouth as if to say “Shhhh….” before Madam Pince starts a fit at either of you. That, or him actually having to say how he feels.
How he feels… Well…shit.
You make a beeline for an open table near the corner, tugging at his wrist like it’s not making his heart beat out of his chest and Remus tries to compose himself, but then you look at him with your pretty fluttering eyelashes and he knows he’s utterly fucked. Pulling out your chair for you, you squeeze his arm in thanks and scooch your chair closer to his.
“Rem?”
“Hmm?” he responds, a strangled noise crawling up his throat as he coughs slightly, his arm landing on the back of your chair before he panics then realizes he’d look like an arse for pulling away.
Not that he wants to.
“How did you know?”
His heart genuinely stops. There’s no way you’ve caught on that quickly—especially not with him just realizing how he feels about you, his friend that he wants to be more and there is nothing casual about what he wants to d—
“How’d you know I was at the common room? You walked out just as I was about to walk in, I thought it was kinda funny,” you giggle, brushing your hair behind your ear and he takes a deep breath.
You’re just friends. But he definitely wants to be more.
“The boys told me it was you,” Remus says, chewing on his lip, “Apparently they had a feeling.”
And now, so does he.
What’s worse is that Remus hates admitting when they’re right (which is rare enough in itself, he’ll never hear the end of it from their inflated egos).
What’s worst of all is that for the first time in his Hogwarts career, Remus Lupin ends up submitting an essay late.
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I’ve been thinking alotttt about rivals! Remy where him and r have been hooking up but the r starts gaining feelings for rem and distants herself but rem is just like “what the hell?” And then they like admit their feelings when rem corners her one day curious😩
i'm sorry this took so long, but i hope you like this!!
friends;
pairing- remus lupin x reader warning(s)- cigarettes, alludes to sex, hurt/comfort. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- academic rivals to lovers is so precious to me you don't understand.
little train
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' girl, I'm not with it, I'm way too far gone i'm not ready, eyes heavy now,'
'i can't believe i've to work with your pathetic ass,' he rolled his eyes, running his fingers through his hair. your eyes wandered over to the burn marks on them, probably from all the joints he smoked. you could hear his friends laughing behind his back. even peter, the quietest and the most tolerable of the lot, was laughing. you scowled, tilting your head to meet his eyes,
'i don't remember you saying that last night. you said i've a perfect ass. maybe you have a problem of short term memory loss?' in an instant, you saw his cheeks reddening and eyes widening comically when he registered your words. his hand slapped upon your mouth, trying to shut you up.
he received a flying paper ball on his head. he turned his head around to find sirius waving his index finger at him
'not in class, moony.' he said, as peter tried not to laugh. he was measuring the ingredients written on the blackboard.
'hello my lovely students!' slughorn's overly cheery voice rang throughout the classroom. the class sang him a dull good morning. it was winter after all, most of the students wanted nothing but to snuggle up in bed within the folds of their cozy blankets drinking hot chocolate. the only energetic person was sirius, and he sang,
'good morning sluggy!' slughorn knitted his eyebrows together at the nickname but didn't say anything.
'good morning, mr. black. i see you've preferred to follow the rules for once and sit on the desk assigned to you.' sirius shrugged his shoulders, batting his eyelashes.
'you and i, we're the best matchmakers, mr. slughorn. we're a team,' what he meant, the saints knew. perhaps that would be taking a step too far, because by the slight smirk on slughorn's face, he knew what sirius meant.
'mr. black, i prefer the student and professor dynamics between us better,' he replied, scratching his eyebrow with his fingernail. sirius groaned mockingly.
'okay class, settle down. we're making amortentia today.' raising your hand, you questioned,
'the love potion?'
'yes, exactly the love potion. of course no magic is as powerful to be able to imitate real love. however, it does create a powerful infatuation, with the person who gave it to the drinker. the scent varies based on what the person likes. it's a very complicated potion to make, but anyone who makes the perf-'
his speech was interrupted by a famished lily evans who was as red as her hair and a grinning james potter. her tie was loose, dangling off her collar and his hair was ruffled. lily's usually nicely ironed uniform was full of wrinkles.
'oh wow! head boy and head girl late to class!' slughorn scowled. by the look on his face, however, he was regretting his choice to let the ever infatuated james potter and the stubborn lily evans sit together.
'just sit down the both of you!' he scolded and they entered the classroom, lily's bag almost spilling parchment and ink bottles. slughorn coughed and continued,
'so as i was saying, who ever makes the perfect love potion gets-' he put his hand into his pocket, pulling out a little bottle full of a clear liquid. '-this. can anyone tell me what this is?'
'felix felicis.' sirius said. further words conversation wasn't recorded by your mind when remus bent down, whispering in your ear,
'do you think they hooked up?' you eyes widened as you looked at him. your eyes unconsciously travelled down to his chapped lips. the taste still remained on your tongue.
'do you like- actually think before speaking? james potter and lily evans hooking up! lily would rather die, he hates the guy.' remus shrugged his shoulder, a small smirk on his lips.
'i mean, look at us, we hate each other but the other day you wouldn't let me stop eating you out-'
'oh please shut up! just get the fucking ingredients!' he smiled, as you try to hide your face with you hair, suddenly very intrigued by your book.
'okay madam,' he said, mock saluting.
*-
after a lot of banter and distractions you ended up with a potion which only looked seconds away from an explosion. there was certainly no 'mother of pearl' sheen or any rising steam in a characteristic spiral. even pearl dust couldn't save the disaster of a potion.
'oh god why did i have to work with you!' you gripped your hair with your fingers, almost pulling them off as you sat down on the chair, chewing on your lip.
'my grades will go down!' you snapped. he turned around, a wince on his face.
'so will mine. this shit is team work and if your grades go down, so will mine.' he stated. you rolled your eyes as he sat down beside you, his palm on your shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze.
'i shouldn't be comforting my academic rival but guess if you low, i go lower.' your ears perked up at the term. 'academic rival.' he didn't even consider you a friend. that's all you were to him, an academic rival, a benchmark to cross, a quick fuck when he was tired. you gulped slowly. suddenly, your throat felt very dry. you stared into his eyes, trying to decipher something, but trust god to give remus lupin the most dead eyes known to mankind.
'ohhh! we have a winner!' slughorn's voice pulled you from your thoughts. your head snapped to the source of commotion, expecting to find lily to be the winner- but it was sirius.
'mr. black, this felix felicis is yours,' he threw a charming grin to all the flushed young ladies and lads as his fingers wrapped around the little bottle. most of the girls and boys almost swooned at his antics, and some could be found a few seconds from fainting when he winked.
'get it padfoot!' james cheered. lily disapprovingly hit james' head with her book. james scowled.
'i want everybody to come and tell me what they smell in here. let's start with mr. black,' he smiled, staring at the eager faces of the young ladies and lads who surrounded him as if he was a trophy.
'i smell petrol, rain and my favorite tea. i can also smell..uh cherry flavored shampoo, and my cologne.' it was nothing very interesting. neither of them used cherry shampoo. and it wasn't just a flying rumor that sirius black rode a motorcycle.
'ah, good, good.' slughorn praised, patting his back. his eyes wandered about in the room before they stopped at your direction.
'okay yes, now you,' he said, instructing you to smell the potion. internally you called him an old cow. externally you smiled, a little more than actually required, and too fake to be a real smile. no comments were passed when you walked up to the front of the classroom, smelling the potion.
'ah- so i smell parchment, ink, coffee, vanilla....cigarettes and dark chocolate.' you stumbled upon your words when you found remus looking at you intently. you tried to ignore the burning gaze and how the blood rushed into your cheeks. slughorn coughed slightly,
'okay, now next student!' he clapped his hands together, trying to cut through the sudden tension in the room. you moved away from the smoking cauldron, walking towards your chair. sitting down, you pondered.
cigarettes? damn you, you hated cigarettes! you'd been reluctant to try one for the first time, but trust remus to roll you the perfect blunt and manipulate you to try it in the best way possible. you remembered coughing up the smoke onto his face.
dark chocolate? sure you enjoyed it here and there but it wasn't certainly something you loved. you wanted to rip out your hair.
the realization had been lingering upon your head from the last few weeks, but you didn't want to act upon it. a lot of people mistake lust for love. you were a teenager high on hormones, hooking up with remus lupin, your biggest academic rival- of course you were bound to mistake lust for life.
perhaps the heated kisses within the shadows of dark nights, the way his hands lingered upon your body, making you feel alive as he touched you down to your core, the heat crawling under your skin, dizzying your mind, the way he begged to touch you, to feel you meant more than just lust. perhaps it was closeted love. but it didn't mean good news. having a crush was fine, but falling for remus john lupin was bad news. it meant heartbreak, a new rumor for the nosy students of hogwarts.
so you did the best thing that came in your mind to maintain your feelings and keep your heart in control. it wouldn't be very effective, considering remus was your partner in potions for the year, but you'd try your best. no hooking up, just necessary conversations. all you had to do was ignore him. the less you saw him, the better.
*-
remus looked up to your face, his sweaty strands of hair sticking onto his forehead. his calloused hands gripped your waist as he thrust his hips upwards. you bent down, brushing his lips against yours. you held down his hands, pinning them above his head. he tried to crane his neck to kiss your lips, but you didn't allow him holding his hands tighter.
slowly, torturously slow you started rotating your hips. he arched his back, moaning your name, his fingers trying to grasp the fabric of the head board.
'god, you feel so fucking good,' he moaned. you smirked, your tongue swiping over your teeth.
'i know,'
suddenly, his face started to distort, and he started laughing at you. weird, that is not how you remembered that night. he was jerking you, before everything went hazy and your vision started blackening and you saw a tunnel of light. you tried to grasp onto the light, escaping the booming sound of his laughter.
it was a fucking dream. you rubbed your eyes, pushing your face into the pillow, silencing your scream, so as to not wake up the others. you hated how pathetic it made you feel. how did it happen?
within the spills of ink on parchment paper and a constant comparison, how could have your feelings changed like this. perhaps you thought of him too much. you were supposed to ignore him. in the typical sense you were, but your mind or heart wasn't ready to go.
you were standing on the edge of a fucking knife, wondering if remus lupin even considered you to be a friend. you hated yourself for falling for him. it wasn't supposed to be more than sex, a quick relief from the constant shambles of your lives, yet here you were, in the middle of the night thinking of the one you were supposed to hate.
slipping your feet into the cozy bunny slippers, you grabbed your thickest jumper. you couldn't sleep, so you might as well take a walk. james and lily were on duty, but you were sure they weren't being as responsible as they were supposed to be.
*-
it was cold. the snow that settled on the grounds was thick and milky white. the cold wind bit your skin, prickling it with goosebumps. you felt a lump in your throat thicken, and your eyes burn. you felt your heart drop. you blamed yourself for the situation you were in. it was your fault, utterly. you weren't supposed to fall for him.
even the stars couldn't calm you down with their serene rays. you dropped your head into your palms, letting the tears fall down your cheeks, sobbing silently.
'talking a walk alone at night now are we?' a voice quietly creeped up behind your back. you wiped your cheeks quickly, mentally preparing yourself to being caught by a prefect and getting your house points deducted. when you turned around, however, you were met with the amber eyes of the one you'd been thinking about. your tongue was tied in knots as you watched him drop james' invisibility cloak on the floor and walk towards you. you backed away, until your back hit the wall and there was nowhere to go.
'r-remus-' he raised an eyebrow, capturing you against the wall, his hand pressed against the wall. he leaned down, his finger crawling under your jaw and tilting your head to meet his burning amber like gaze.
'have you been crying?' he asked. you stared at him, tongue twisted in knots. but you knew it was no use lying to him. he could read you like a book.
'yes,' you nodded. he tilted an eyebrow.
'why?'
'why does it fucking matter remus? leave me alone- i'm not even your fucking friend.'
'then what are we? you've been ignoring me for the past few days, and now you're running away when i've finally got you alone.'
'nice try, lupin. you don't give a shit, so just let me go.'
'oh so you're going to decide whether i give a shit about you or not? what if i tell you i do?'
'you won't mean it.'
'i will. i've never lied to you,' he said. there was a bitter sadness in his eyes. you could see the darkness in his gaze, and even if he naturally had dead eyes, you could see a tiny ray of warmth in his gaze.
'please.' he said, letting you go. 'just tell me what's wrong. tell me what i've done. tell me how i can fix it. just...please don't ignore me.' he begged. slowly gulping, you pondered whether it was the correct moment to speak out your heart. perhaps it wasn't, but he could right through the lies. and while you had a lot of explanations hidden in your head, you could only whisper one line,
'i'm in love with you, remus,' he stared at you intently, letting your words hang before he could act upon them. you expected screaming, cussing...laughter. you didn't expect a soft gaze as he smiled at you. he slipped his finger under you jaw, tilting your head.
'i don't think you ignore the one's you're in love with,' you screwed your eyes shut, biting your lip. the blood warmly travelled to your cheeks,
'you don't feel the same, i was scared.'
'and how exactly do you know that?' you opened your eyes, to find him staring at you in utter glee.
'i've been yours before you touched me. all it took was spilled ink on my essay, sweetheart.'
********************************
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congratulations on the 1k yay!! 💐💐 can i request a blurb with remus lupin + " a first kiss: one just goes for it so fast that the other doesn't realize what's happening at first. then they're like "oh shit", with reader initiating?
ahh thank you so much sweetheart !!! i absolutely adored this prompt for remus ,, thank you so much for sending it in n i hope you like it <333
in all of your years of living, you had never really prided yourself on being a cautious or deliberate person. no, your brain seemed to thrive on impulsivity, favouring the 'do now, and face the consequences later' approach to life, disregarding the amount of worry it would cause you mere moments later.
and around remus, things only got ten times worse. because on top of your brain's tendency to ignore impulse control, you had an inability to think straight around the man you'd been seeing for the past few weeks, a combination that you were sure would soon prove deadly.
it was only a matter of time, really.
the sun was lightly filtering through the large window of your living room, casting a glow onto remus' side profile that caught the silvery scars adorning his face, the thin lines rippling like lightening across the expanse of his skin.
his hair was a little messy, stray locks poking up from where he had made himself comfortable against a few pillows on your sofa, and his long, slender fingers manipulated the tv remote in a desperate hunt for some half decent form of entertainment.
you couldn't help yourself.
the moment that remus turned to look at you, his lips parted in preparation to speak, you closed the small gap between you, leaned forward, and pressed your lips to his.
and maybe it wouldn't have been too bad, if not for one glaring detail: this was the first time you had ever kissed remus.
well, that, and the fact that remus had frozen, mouth not moving an inch against yours as he short-circuited at the sensation of your soft, warm lips against his own.
after a second or two, though, his mind snapped back into action as he registered what was happening, and the fact that, oh shit, he wasn't kissing you back.
swiftly, remus lifted a hand to cup your cheek, thumb brushing lightly against the top of your cheekbone as he relaxed into the kiss, not wanting to let you think for any longer that he craved anything else but your lips to remain on his for as long as you'd let them.
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