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mondaymelon · 8 months

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— 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮! ♡

໒꒱ || :feat~ lyney, freminet, wriothesley, neuvillette x gn!reader:

໒꒱ || cw: fluff <3 maybe a lil ooc since i havent done the fontaine quests yet, wrio is whipped !!

⤷ giving your fontaine boyfriend flowers ♡

“Oh? For me?”

LYNEY’s expression is one of delight as he holds the bouquet of roses you’ve gifted him, smiling gratefully. The shining excitement in his vibrant eyes, however, doesn’t quite translate into how ecstatic he really is… because usually, he’s not used to being on the receiving end of affection, since the charmingly flirty magician is constantly the one to make you glow red.

“They reminded me of you…” You laugh sheepishly, watching his grin only grow.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you, love.” He moves the flowers to one hand as the other finds its way resting on the small of your back, giving you something to lean on as he moves forward and gives you a quick peck on your cheek, light and fleeting. “So I’ll show you my thanks, hm?” His voice is low as he stares at you, something earnest in his gaze as his violet irises twinkle. You nod, slowly, unsure of what he implies, but you know him well enough to not be startled as he swiftly moves forward and meets his lips to yours. You can feel his warmth… is it because he’s a pyro user? It’s hard to think about anything, especially when you’re pressed up against him like this, mind blank as his mouth moves against yours.

He speaks as he pulls away with a slight smile, and your hand instinctively latches onto the hem of his coat. “Not enough for you?” You can hear the smirk in his tone. “C’mon now, we can’t be too greedy, love~”

“What? No, I just-!” You hastily release your grasp on his clothes, face growing hot. “Lyney, you know I didn’t mean it like that!”

“I know, I know, it’s just so fun to tease you, y’know?” He lets out a laugh at your pouting expression. “I can’t help it, really.”

There’s no winning against this man. “Hah… alright, alright…” You glance up in surprise as Lyney gently moves you out of his arms and starts to stand up.

“Aw, don’t look so sad, I just have something for you too! Surely one kiss or two isn’t enough to repay the gift you’ve given me?” He smiles as he reaches for his signature hat, which dangles on the coat rack. You watch in awe. How come his every movement is still so graceful?

“Lyney, I don’t need repaym-” You’re cut off as the man flourishes his arms - You blink, and all of a sudden there’s a bouquet of his own in his hands, splendid yellow roses, fully in bloom. “Wh-”

“Tada!” He bows, looking pleased with himself as he stares at the flowers in your arms, then up at you. “Now we match~” He holds up his own bouquet with a beam.

“W-When did you-”

“Magic.”

“So you can create just about everything with magic, huh…” You stare at the roses in silent wonder.

“Ah ah, not everything!” Lyney bounces on his feet, watching the look of curiosity on your face with an air of amusement. One of his sparkling eyes closes in a wink.

“No magic could ever conjure up something as limitless as my love for you!” ♡

“H-Huh? Flowers? For… me?”

FREMINET’s eyes are wide as he hesitantly holds the flowers in his hands, looking rather anxious. “But… why?” The poor male glances from the roses in his hands back to your face nervously, studying your features. “Y-You should’ve told me so that I would’ve had flowers for you too…!”

“There’s no need for you to give me a gift, Min. I just got you a bouquet because I felt like it, no reason.” You beam at him as his face only grows redder. “There’s really no need to get embarrassed!”

“Ah… but I feel bad…” He shakes his head, lightly colored hair swaying with his movements. You can hear him mumble under his breath, quietly to himself: “...omorrow…ing…”

“What was that?” You blink at him, confused. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

“N-Nothing! Uhm… do you want to go somewhere today? You’ve put me in a good mood, so…” He smiles softly, and the air around him seems to glow with the sheer brilliance of it. You match his smile with one of your own, watching as he takes the flowers out of the bouquet and arranges them into an intricately decorated vase, half-filled with water. Gazing at him is like observing a masterpiece at work, although you know far too well that the male’s job certainly has nothing to with that of a florist, yet the movement of his skillful hands captures your attention anyhow.

“Is something wrong? You’ve been looking at me for quite a while… is there something on my face?” Upon noticing how your eyes are fixated on him, he flinches, ears flaring red.

“No, you just look pretty today. You look pretty every day, Min.” It’s hard to restrain your laughter as you watch Freminet bury his face in his hands, his red ears visible from behind his hair.

“Don’t tease me…!”

“But it’s true.”

“D-Do you want to go to town or not…?” He shifts a finger, hesitantly peeking an eye out between them. “We can go get something to eat… I’ll pay, but you’ll have to order…” His usual habits were the same as always, how he’d stutter over his words when faced with anyone except his siblings… and of course, you.

“That sounds great, Min. Come on, let’s go!”

The next morning, a soft knock jolts you awake, three light raps hitting the wood before the sound of footsteps quickly retreated away. You manage to crawl out of bed and open the door, only to be startled as a large bouquet - larger than the one you had gifted him - sat on your doorstep, mixed with Fontaine classics and even Romaritime flowers… had he dived underwater to pick these for you? Every petal was perfect, and the flowers were all fully in bloom, despite being out of water. What kind of magic was this?

A cream-colored card catches your attention, leaning against the bouquet. On it are finely crafted words, written in Freminet’s familiar small script:

“Thank you, love.” ♡

“Hm? What’s the occasion?”

WRIOTHESLEY’s usual professionalism fades as his chest tightens with a giddy sensation. He had been having a rather tedious afternoon in the Fortress of Meropide - time passed all too slowly whenever you weren’t present - but now that you were here, he knew his minutes with you were already slipping away like sand through his fingers, no matter how tightly or carefully he cupped the grains in his hands. You were a free soul, a rather unfitting lover for his occupation, coming and going like the wind. And while your presence may be as fleeting as the gale, at least the breeze you brought would leave in him a warm sensation. “I wasn’t aware you’d be visiting today.”

“I figured I might as well surprise you! Besides, you always come home with a scowl on your face, so I was just making sure you weren’t having a hard time here,” you smile at him, an expression that causes his heart to stutter. It takes him all he’s got in him to at least somewhat maintain his professional expression, knowing full well that if anyone else saw him at the moment, they would certainly be in for a shock. Your words are entertaining. Him? Having a hard time? That had long dissipated the moment you stepped foot into the building.

“Were you worried about me? I’m okay, so don’t concern yourself over such trivial matters.” Wriothesley lightly shakes his head. For someone as beautifully naive as you to exist in this world, he knew full well that your future would not be free of adversaries. He supposed that wasn’t exactly a problem, though. The male had already promised himself that he’d dispose of them all when you weren’t looking.

Your face scrunches up like you’ve eaten something bad. “Trivial?” you echo, your tone expressing your annoyance. “Wrio, how could you say that? Of course I should be worried about you, silly! What kind of lover would I be if I didn’t?”

Ah, there you go again. Every time you refer to yourself by that title, he swears he can feel his heart skip a beat, the only evidence of his flusteredness is the burning of red dusting his ears. He had been refraining from holding you until he had gotten back home, but, naturally, you had broken his final sense of reason. You blink, and there he is, pressed up against you with both of his arms wrapped around your waist, your back leaning against his chest. He’s warm, startingly so despite him being the bearer of a Cryo vision, and you can hear the rapid thrum of his heartbeat.

“You’re cold,” he remarks offhandedly, pressing a kiss into your nape, then another.

“You’re warm,” you respond, smiling, only to hear the drumming of his heart quicken.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” Wriothesley’s face is flushed, just the tiniest bit, and once you blink, you could’ve sworn that it was never there.

“Do I?” You grin up at him cheekily. “Why don’t you care to elaborate?”

“Fuck, darling… you can’t keep doing this to me. I don’t think my heart will be able to take much more of this.” ♡

“They’re beautiful.”

NEUVILLETTE's fingers graze a petal and trace its outermost edge, studying the bouquet with a smile. The blooming assortment lays perfectly balanced in his hands as he cradles them gently. “Thank you, dearest.” His smile is serene, like an untouched expanse of water. Smooth, and glimmering, and when you lean over to peer into it, you can see your clear reflection staring up at you. His eyes mirrored it, pure and unsullied. His beauty stuns you for a moment. He had always been a man with an air of elegance, his magnificence simply inhumane, and it was likely a stroke of luck that Neuvillette had ever taken you as his partner.

Of course, those were merely your thoughts on the matter. His did not match your sentiment, not even in the slightest. For in his mind, he was the one who didn’t deserve you. No, it would be simply unreasonable to compare him to something as perfect as water. You were the only one in his eyes who deserved such a title. And he was the Romaritime flower, only able to thrive in your presence.

“You like them?” He loathes the surprise in your voice. Indubitably, he did. There was no other option. It was something that you had gifted him, and that enough made its value clear.

“Certainly,” his eyes are warm. “I will treasure everything and anything you bestow upon me.”

“Vil, there’s no need to go that far…” you laugh sheepishly, only for the sound to slowly cease as you realize he isn’t jesting. “...Why?”

His soft laughter fills the silence. “I love you. Have I not made that apparent?”

“Yes, but there’s certainly no need for-”

“Shh.” This interaction has made something painfully clear for the man. Perhaps he hasn’t been showing you enough affection? He is a busy man, but he always heads home, heads to you whenever he has a second to breathe. Yes, only in your arms would he finally feel content. Only with your fingers carding through his hair, whispering his name with a smile and closed eyes, only then. You knew how much he yearned for you, right?

If not… well, that could be changed.

“You’ve given me such a precious gift, so I should show my thanks out of courtesy.” Wrapping his arms around your smaller frame and leaning your head against his chest, to hide the slightest flush on his cheeks. “Ah, but it should be a fair trade.” You tilt your head at his words, confused.

“Only one kiss won’t be justified, hm?” ♡

(a/n) help why do i actually like wriothesley's part this isn't supposed to happen ?! anyways yeah it was about time i wrote for fontaine men

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123

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sixosix · 8 months

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i. summary it was not your intention to seduce lyney, really, he was just already so very weak for you.

lyney being a sucker for you: the drabble

ii. warnings wc 700, this drabble has been in my drafts since i finished sleight of hand LOL. A Little Steamy, but nothing happens, I LOVE FLUSTERED LYNEY!!

“And that’s a wrap! Thank you, everyone; it all went smoothly as planned. Pat yourselves on the back.”

A chorus of exhausted yet elated cheers rings backstage, not enough to rival the crowd outside, yet it is still much more satisfying to hear. Some of the crew went up to Lyney to pat his shoulder, congratulating him for once again another successful show. Lyney takes it all with a dazzling grin and unwavering confidence. Why, of course. We’ve been working day and night for this.

You ceremoniously step forward and give his side a gentle nudge. Lyney responds with a grin as he reciprocates the gesture. “That was a new one. Did you and Lynette practice that secretly to surprise us?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Lyney says, ironically knowing that he’d have to teach his crew about this as you mustn’t repeat the same trick twice.

Lyney spots his sister resting against a wall a few feet later. “You still want to buy that dessert, Lynette?”

Lynette’s eyes flicker to Lyney, then to you. “I’ll just meet you two there,” she tells Lyney, then walks off without waiting for goodbye.

“Huh, well.” People continue to filter out of the backstage, leaving you and Lyney alone in a dimly lit room, with props scattered all around and taking up enough space to have you and Lyney pressed against each other to not stumble over any of them. “Mon amour, how’d you enjoy the show?”

“It was splendid, of course. I especially liked the part where Lynette stole the spotlight—my favorite part of every show.”

“I understand, but be more nice to the star of the show, will you?” He’s deflated like a popped balloon. “I know you know how much work I put in to perfect everything.”

You laugh, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face. “You think I pay attention to you that much?”

Lyney huffs. “You don’t have to be so coy. It’s my job to steal your attention, isn’t it? You’re also my assistant; surely you’ve learned a thing or two about magic tricks?”

“Of course I have,” you cede. “I’ve been watching it all, Lyney, don’t be teased so easily.”

“Well, it just seems to me you haven’t really been paying attention at all,” he feigns a pout.

“Really? Is this a test?” Lyney casts you a sly glance, and you return it with a scoff. “I’ve seen how you deceive them with your actions, distract them with your hands.” You nudge his chest with two fingers, and in the silence, you can hear how Lyney swallows air at the proximity. “You’ve got quite the skill with them.”

“You’ve been watching them pretty closely,” Lyney says quietly.

“Isn’t that the point? It just proves how talented of a magician you are.”

His face is a comical shade of red. He’s weak like that.

“What I learned while being part of your troupe, however, is that I could be saying anything, and my audience wouldn’t really care.” You trail your fingers up, and up, slowly, and Lyney’s breath all but hitches once you reach his neck. “Because I’m making you watch my hands—bring all your attention to what I do and not what I say.”

“Yeah,” Lyney agrees absentmindedly, like a hypnotized man—the irony.

And it’s then you realize that he isn’t looking at your hand at all. His eyes are gazing intensely right below your nose—entranced by how your lips move to mouth your words. You suppose that it still counts as a distraction.

Your fingers reach out to cup his chin, leveling him with a look of disbelief. “Lyney?”

His entire face is a tomato, and half-words are caught in the back of his throat. He gapes at you and looks as if he’s at war with himself.

You hold back a laugh. “I’m surprised you weren’t so critical to a newbie. Did I do that well?”

“That wasn’t fair, and you know it,” he replied weakly after a moment of finding his voice. He then hides his face behind his fingers. “Don’t go around doing that. You can’t try to captivate an audience already so enamored with you.”

“Ah…” Now you feel flustered. “Let’s—Let’s just go meet up with Lynette.” You can’t handle staying in this room for another minute.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #genshin x you #x reader

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oxymorayuri · 2 months

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❞𝐍𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬❝

ShortFic

here the storys masterlist. ♡♡♡

✦ Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader ✦ Warnings: cussing/language, use of alcohol, mature content ✦ Spoiler: none

wordcount: 6328

It annoys you that you're starting to develop feelings for Ace. Unlike you, he's just unreliable, messy and has no brains. Sure he's hot as the sun but how can a woman like you be into a guy like him?

! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ !

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Xuan

"Hey gorgeous, watcha doing?" With his stupid big grin, he steals the sun you were enjoying a moment ago. You exhale a little annoyed but don't look up from your book. You calmly flip the page.

"Isn't it obvious?" It comes from your lips. You sound rather bored by his unnecessary question, but it's impossible to ignore the displeased undertone.

"Mmm bitey as always…" Any other man would be offended, would insult you and leave but Ace finds it quite amusing. He finds it rather fun that you're not throwing yourself at his feet.

Your eyes remain on the words in your book. You won't grant Ace the satisfaction of giving him a single glance. You would only be forced to look at his sly smile and his splendid torso. Gross.

"Okay, let me see what you're reading?" Ace's hand reaches for your book and now he is the one flipping through it. You are a little perplexed, your hands still in the air as if you had the book in your hands, but the confusion quickly fades and you stand up, annoyed.

You want to take the book away from him but all your efforts are in vain because he skillfully keeps you at a distance. You accept your defeat and cross your arms in front of your barely dressed chest.

You just wanted to sunbathe a little before you drop anchor ashore, but Ace has to annoy you again.

Your eyes rest on his utterly beautiful lips. You despise yourself for your thoughts while he reads a few lines from your book, but you listen to him intently and after each sentence you have to laugh a little at his comments even though you roll your eyes. He looks pretty hot as he tries to analyze your book... with a strained expression, he thinks about those things he read.

"…That's why Cunt describes the awakening, or rather: the awakening, of reason as a second birth…." he quietly mumbles the rest to himself "…a beginner who is able to begin for himself….????" He frowns very hard and gestures at the book.

"Who the hell understands that!" You put one hand on your hip and snatch the book from him, with a puff of annoyance.

"First of all, I understand it and secondly, it's pronounced Kant and not Cunt!" - "Yea sounds the same…"

He seems confused but doesn't quite understand that he has just named one of your favorite philosophers a cunt. You roll your eyes again, you've done that so many times now, that you should be getting dizzy.

Arrogantly, you walk past him and toss your hair over your shoulder. Ace's confusion quickly fades as he inhales your sweet, floral scent, which has a pinch of salt from the fresh ocean breeze.

"I'll soften you up, y/n." He calls after you and without you turning to face him, you flash him your middle finger.

Once in the kitchen, you made yourself a drink to calm your nerves. You know that you're a pretty deep woman, but you've experienced several times that men aren't interested in woman like you.

As soon as someone realizes how smart or intellectual you are, they simply turn their back on you. You are sick and tired of people only liking you for your appearance but not your inner self. Why is that? Is it too exhausting for them? Are they too stupid?

You exhale in frustration and throw a straw into your drink. This is the very reason why you are not happy, that you like Ace. He's not exactly the brightest candle on the cake, but he has that special spark, that makes you want to keep your eyes on him. What if he just wants to get his hands on you and then throws you away like the others?

"You're groaning a lot again, little lass…" You flinch as if lightning struck you and you slowly turn around, only to see Marco drinking his coffee and browsing through the newspaper without looking at you.

"Gosh Marco… Tell me you're here, jeez!" You put your hand on your chest while leaning against a wooden plank.

The man looks up at you from his newspaper with an raised eyebrow.

"I was here first." He rustles the paper briefly to get it back into shape and turns his attention back to the latest headlines.

"Besides, how can you be so blind and not notice me? It's not like I'm hiding here…" Mumbles the commander of the first division. You stop as you sip your drink.

He's right. He's obviously sitting at the table. You should have seen him when you came in, but you seem to be too absorbed in your own thoughts.

"Whatever, sorry."

You wave him off as you walk back out the door.

The sun greets you directly and you notice that the deck is a little busier. Apparently we'll be docking ashore soon. You're walking across the deck towards the railing when someone calls out to you.

"Hey y/n you should start getting ready, we'll be in Mocktown in 10 minutes." Says Jozu, who is hauling in the sail with a few shipmen.

"Thanks boss!" You call out to your commander.

You could already see it in the distance, the island of Jaya. You quickly made your way to your private cabin. Of course you don't want to go ashore completely in a bikini, even if the weather is good, but Mocktown is still a criminal city and you have no desire to be seen as a cheap prostitute.

You quickly put on a short pleated skirt, attach your gun holster to your thigh and for a moment you think about whether you should just leave your bikini on or put on a shirt. You shrug your shoulders and think to yourself, why not?

Even if some idiots whistle after you, you'll always be at the safest place in the world with your crew members. After all, you're one of the Whitebeard pirates.

Just before you were about to go ashore with Whitey, you stop on your heels.

You watch as Ace is already on land, in the company of a few lightly dressed girls. You can see how much he enjoys being wooed by the beautiful women. He's such a show off. You think to yourself as you roll your eyes.

"Well well, where are your eyes going again, sweetie." It wasn't a question... Whitey knows exactly who you're watching as she stands next to you at the railing. She rests one elbow on the railing and puts her chin in one hand.

"Just look at him… The way he flaunts himself in front of those chicks and acts like a clown... bleurgh..." Not in a million years would you admit that the show Ace gives these women is fucking dope. He plays with his devil fruit power like a fire eater, juggling fireballs, surrounding himself with flames and giving the ladies a little show.

It clearly annoys you and somehow you don't like it, that the ladies are allowed to admire Ace so obviously.

You don't think twice and start to act. You point one finger in Ace's direction and move your index finger in small circular movements.

Behind Ace, who is still playing with his fire, the water on the shore rises without anyone noticing. When the water is high enough, you pull your finger slightly to the right and all the water falls on Ace and extinguishes him.

Steam rises from Ace as he stands in front of the women, drenched in water. He tries to shake some of the water off him, which makes you laugh.

You quickly leave the ship with your friend and together you go to your troop of the third division.

Whitey hooks her arm into yours and comes a little closer to your ear so no one can hear her words.

"You jealous, beastly bitch…" You give her a humming laugh. You may be jealous, but what does it matter? That crush will soon fade away anyway.

While you and Whitey ran a few errands for the whole crew, Jozu waited for you and watched who went in and out of the store. Two beautiful women like you need to be protected in a shady place like this. It's not that you're weak, it's more like a rule.

You came out of the store with a lot of bags. Jozu's eyes widened as he looked over the bulging shopping bags.

"What have you bought again? Do we really need all this?" He questioned but also grabbed all the purchases to carry them for you.

You look up at the tall man with a raised eyebrow.

"Well listen Jozu. You're lucky we do this shopping, if we didn't, we could wipe our asses with meat because food is all YOU think about!" You boldly point your finger at your commander, who shrinks back a little with beads of sweat on his face.

A nervous laugh escapes his lips and he apologizes quietly.

"Save it boss. At least we can decide what quality the paper is. The last person who was responsible for this basically bought sandpaper!" You complain with your arms crossed as you walk down the street. The commander and Whitey laugh at your little tantrum, but your walk is suddenly interrupted when a small child falls in front of you and different items fall from his arms.

Bread and fruit rolled across the ground and to your feet. The boy hastily jumped up and picked up the food. You didn't hesitate and went straight to the ground to help the child. You immediately notice how anxiously the child looks around and seems to want to get away very quickly.

"Hey are you okay kiddo?" You ask carefully with so much care in your voice, which is rarely heard from you. You are known for being quick and merciless, but with children you become a big sis.

The boy, no more than 8 years old, looked up at you with fear in his eyes when he saw the Jolly Roger on your skirt. Again he dropped his food, fell to the ground and frantically scrambled backwards. Meanwhile, you can hear an angry mob in the distance. You suspect the boy has stolen the food by the look of him.

No shoes, torn clothes and a dirty face. The sight makes you sad; it reminds you of yourself. You were just like him before Whitebeard took you in.

You stand protectively in front of the boy and Jozu and Whitey also stand around the boy so that he is protected from all sides.

You keep your hand ready to draw your revolver in case of need. The angry people shout and demand that you hand the boy over, but you're definitely not going to do that. The little boy didn't even steal much and from the looks of it, the food seemed more like scraps that the stores threw in the trash.

You click your tongue. You can't believe they get so angry when it's just a few pathetic scraps. You lose your patience and in the blink of an eye you've already shot all the angry people in front of their feet. The people were visibly frightened by your speed and people around you started whispering.

"Oh my god it's the Whitebeard pirates!" - "Look! Jozu, the commander of the third devision…" - "And isn't that the right hand; the Revolver?"

By Revolver, they mean you. That's your nickname, but only for the rest of the world. In fact, you have to thank the Marines for that cool nickname. They didn't know your real name because you were just a teenager living on the street, you were born without a name.

Back then you were already pretty good with a revolver, it helped you keep yourself afloat but it was a dirty life. You quickly became known to the Marines and had your own wanted poster with the name 'Revolver'.

Then one day you came across Whitebeard and you set your mind on robbing him... You knew who he was but you were ignorant and thought you were faster than him but you were definitely no match for Whitebeard... You could count yourself lucky because he saw potential in you and asked you to join his crew.

Whitebeard was also the one who gave you your name and since then you see it as your duty to make him proud as a daughter.

You suddenly heard a man's voice calling from above and your gaze went up to the roofs.

"Hey, what's with all the ruckus?" The sun blinds you a little and with squinted eyes you could make out Ace's silhouette. Ace landed in front of you with a wave of fire and the people froze, no longer looking angry but more like they were shitting their pants. One of them took to his legs in his hands and screamed as he ran away.

"Nope, the commander and the revolver are already a big deal, but you can't survive Ace's devastating fire!" Ace just laughed like a fool and held his stomach as he watched the wimps make a run for their lives.

Your attention was on the boy who threw himself crying into your arms. You stroked his head and Jozu and Whitey picked up the food again.

"Hm, unfortunately the food is already pretty dirty… you can't eat that." Whitey whispered to Jozu.

When you notice a shadow above you, you look up at Ace, who was looking at the boy with a serious face. The look surprised you quite a bit, There is no trace of his usually playful expression that Ace always has.

He crouches down to you two and reaches into his pocket to pull out a bag.

"Hey little guy, do you live alone?" The little boy sniffled heavily before answering him.

"No, I live with my mother and two brothers..." - "Heyyyy, I have two brothers too!" The boy turned around. The fact that Ace was talking to him seemed to calm him down a little. No wonder, Ace had once again made a unique appearance and looked like a cool superhero. You watch Ace interact with the boy.

"Really?" - "Yeah, I'm the oldest of the three of us!" The boy wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes.

"I'm also the oldest of us…" - "Yeah, that's what I thought… You just wanted to look after your family, didn't you?" Ace said as he looked at the food. The tears rolled down his dirty cheeks again as the boy nodded in agreement.

"You know what? This should be enough for now... buy plenty of food with it and make sure no one catches you with that much money!" Ace placed a sack full of money in the boy's hand. The weight caused the boy's slender hand to drop a little and his eyes widened with tears.

"Are you serious?" Ace just smiled at him with a nod and patted him on the head. He straightened up again and your eyes went up to him, mesmerized by his kindness. He gave him quite a lot of money and once again you found another reason to like Ace. The way he treated the child warms your heart, but inside you curse yourself...

When you arrived at the pub, you took a seat in a corner, where a few others from your division were already sitting and the waiters brought you your drinks.

Ace, on the other hand, begged and pleaded with the owner of the bar to let him pay later, but the owner knows the area and doesn't trust anyone to pay their debts.

You could no longer stand to watch your second commander beg a measly bartender and with an annoyed groan you made your way over to Ace.

"What do you want Ace." You say coolly, not even looking at him. Ace quickly realizes what you're up to and his sad face turns to joy.

"Food and booze!" He puts his hands together as if worshipping you. You somehow like that he makes himself small and a tiny smile appears on your face.

"Let the man order what he wants, I'll pay for it." - "Awww y/n, you got something good with me!" You raise an eyebrow as you look into his wide grin. He's pretty close to you and you draw in your breath inaudibly as your heart threatens to explode but you don't let it show on the outside.

Before your face turns completely red, you turn around and go back to your seat.

How you missed just sitting in one of those shabby pubs, laughing with your comrades while prying ears tried to listen to the stories you could tell.

But today it's all about fun and relaxing, so there's nothing important for the shady characters around to catch. Anyway, you wouldn't be stupid enough to discuss important things in public. Maybe their eyes are only on you because they are curious or even tense.

With every sip of your drink, the desire to mess with one of the dark figures increases. You're in the mood for a bar fight, because the last few weeks have been pretty quiet.

You were undercover in Alabasta for a long time and two weeks ago your crew picked you up again. You're glad to be out of there. All that sand and the dry air has damaged your skin and you've really missed life on the Moby Dick.

You realized that a lot had changed during your absence, because suddenly there was a new commander. The commander of the second division to be precise. Jozu had informed you about the latest events from time to time, but you hadn't expected Ace.

"Hey doll, I've never seen you here before…" A halfway attractive guy blabbered at you from the side while swaying and leaning onto your table.

Your eyes shift to the side without moving your head. That guy reeks of alcohol... Brave of him to talk to you, but maybe this could be the entertainment you've been looking for?

Your lips are curled in to a malicious smile. You look up at him with your dreamy eyes.

"What's up, big boy?" you wink at him in a seductive voice. You can probably get a few drinks out of him while thinking about how much money you've already spent, since Ace drinks like a hangover is just a rumor... If the drunk refuses, you can always blow a bullet through his head and be done with him.

It was easier than you thought to wrap the rascal around your fingers and he bought not only you a drink but also the others! You almost felt sorry for him when you pulled his wallet out of his coat but well… you're a thief and a pirate. It's his own fault because he couldn't take his eyes off you. It was just too easy.

"Ohhh y/n that was really nasty again. The poor guy really thought you fancied him."

You answer your commander with a little dirty laugh. Unconcerned, you shrug your shoulders and sip your newly snatched drink, paid with the money you stole from the guy whose name you don't even remember.

"'Aww come on… it's funny. The 'poor' guy, as you call him, will arrive at the hotel, go to the room and meet whoever the hell is there!" you laugh diabolically until tears gather in your eyes. You're not the only one laughing… the others are laughing too and even Jozu has to admit to himself that it's hilarious.

You've done this a couple of times and every time you've proved how dick driven guys can be...

You really played with that guy's mind when you flirted with him. Little random touches and your laughter sounded so sincere as he told his stories... But in the end, guys usually want more than just to sit in a pub with you, so you always come up with something new.

On the way to the pub you saw a hostel… So you wrote down that exact hostel and a room number on a piece of paper. You told him that you would meet him there later at 8 pm because you still wanted to have some fun with your crew and the idiot believed you.

Whitey started to laugh, she seemed to be imagining the whole thing.

"I wonder who he'll run into in that room?" You all burst out laughing. Too bad you won't find out.

The evening went pretty well and you have to admit that Ace is a pretty cool guy. He was one of the few who raised the mood and you kept catching each other sneaking glances.

The table gradually emptied until only Jozu, Whitey, Ace and you were left. Jozu told you the story how Ace wanted to kill Whitebeard at the beginning. The stories made you laugh like crazy. You were already stupid, but killing Whitebeard? That's crazy.

You caught Ace blushing a little and scratching his head in shame while Jozu was talking, but he let Jozu talk about his stupid actions. Because of his sweet expressions, your laughter slowly died down as you looked up at him. Over time, your seats had changed so that you were sitting between Whitey and Ace and you press your elbow into his side.

"Oh don't make such a face Ace. I think that makes you really likeable!" Like the buddy you are, you raise your drink to him and symbolize that you want to clink glasses with him.

Ace froze for a moment because of you. He wasn't used to you beeing like this but he actually likes this side of you. He returns your grin and clinks glasses with you.

Usually you're not that bitchy. You get along with everyone. Ace is the only one you were so distant with from the start, and not just because he swept you off your feet. It sounds shallow, but from the first moment you saw him, you felt a spark inside you. A slight tickle in your chest.

The real reason for your cold manner is rather because he was given the position of commander of the second division. You worked really hard for the position and were one of the few candidates, but suddenly he comes along aaaand gets the job. You didn't even know that Ace was the one when he stood in front of you. It was only later that Jozu told you that he was the one who got the job and the spark in you shattered like a mirror.

But you have to admit that Ace is still doing a good job. He's actually pretty strong. You remember how some wannabe pirates tried to attack you, but Ace quickly wiped them out by setting their ship on fire. It was kind of beautiful… this burning ship in the middle of the ocean…

"Hey girl what are you thinking about?" Whitey nudges you while you're lost in thoughts holding your chin in your hand.

"Ace…" you babble, responding directly to her question but in a rather absent manner. All of you react immediately to your answer…

Whitey looks at you with a raised eyebrow while Ace freezes as he drinks. You quickly realize that you've somehow admitted that you were thinking about Ace. Oh dear, you probably had a little too much to drink… You straighten up and clear your throat.

"…Ace… tell me… where are you from?" You try to rock the boat, even though you think it's in vain, but luckily for you, the dark haired man answers you and joins in ignoring what you just said. The mood is a little awkward, but from the outside you don't allow to show any signs of embarrassment… On the inside, however, you're ripping the hair from your head in humiliation.

"Oh dear, look at the clock, it's almost 8pm… I think I'd better get back to the Moby before that guy comes back after he finds out I'm not staying at that hostel." A little slyly, you laugh into your hand as you stand up.

"I should go with you…" Ace gets right up and wants to follow you "…you know, in case you run into him and need some firepower." You look back over your shoulder at him and grin as he forms a finger gun with his hand and shoots little balls of fire.

"Do what you gotta do Firefist…" You voiced his name a little sexier than you intended, but you're so drunk right now that you don't give a fuck.

As you walked side by side through the dark alleys, you had the feeling that you didn't want the evening to end. You are alone with Ace. No one would tease you for it, seeing how well you get along with him all of a sudden…

"Hey Ace… Wanna go flick some rocks on the waterside?" He looks at you a bit surprised, while you continue to look ahead.

"Yeah sure, sounds fun!"

And so it came that the two of you were flicking stones over the water's surface a little away from the city. You made it a competition to see how many times you could bounce the stone on the water and you expected nothing less than Ace to have a good hand.

You watch him as he skillfully swings out from the hip to throw the pebble. His muscles twitched slightly as he released the tension in his body. It's a good thing he runs around without a shirt…

As you both watch the stone splash across the surface, Ace breaks the silence.

"Listen y/n, I know you were supposed to get the commander's spot and I think you would have pretty much rocked the position…" You perk up at his words…

I would have got the position? You've never heard that before. Ace had to grin a little when he saw your questioning face.

"Yes, Edward told me that he wanted to leave the second division to you… But in the end he decided against it." You both took a seat on the beach and you looked thoughtfully at the open sea.

What made him choose Ace as commander and not me? What does he have, that I don't?

Ace finally gets a chance to look at your face in peace. You look so harmless and gentle as you gaze out to the sea. Your eyes literally shine due to the moon's reflection in the water.

"Do you want to know why?" You turn your head and look directly into his black eyes.

"Sure…" you answer a little absently as you look repeatedly at his lips. Ace leaned back, propped himself up on his elbows and looked up at the starry sky.

"He told me a lot about you, how he took you in and how he views you. He treats us all like his children, but he once said to me that if he had a daughter, she would definitely be like you…" You pull your legs towards you and hide your smile. You know he treats you a little differently from the others, that's definitely no secret.

Even though you were thirteen when he took you in, he was the parent you've always longed for. He raised you and taught you your values. He has a great influence on you…

Even though these words flatter you, they don't satisfy you. You lean back and cross your arms behind your head.

"Well, if I mean that much to him, he should name me commander of the first division!" You say cheekily, but more in a funny way. Ace bursts out laughing and lies on his side to look at you.

"I don't know why either… I think you're super strong…" His praise is like music to your ears and it makes you even happier that he doesn't stop.

"I've heard the name Revolver a few times, but your wanted poster didn't reveal much about your appearance… There were stories told around the taverns… about the legendary Revolver shooting faster than his shadow and being quick as lightning." You start to laugh.

"Sounds like a cowboy." Ace looks down at himself, smirking, and you stop laughing when you notice him taking off his hat.

"The only thing missing is the hat…" he whispers to you as he puts his hat on your head. For a moment, you find yourselves trapped in the endless silence. You have already blocked out the sound of the waves and the only thing you can hear is Ace's breathing.

You think you've never looked into someone's eyes for so long before and if you're honest, you don't intend to look away. You catch your breath as Ace brushes a strand of hair out of your face and as a response to his warmth, you slightly open your mouth.

"The first time I saw you on the Moby Dick, talking to Whitebeard, I knew you were the special daughter, but I would never have guessed you were also the Revolver." - "Ah yes?" You ask him a little provocatively, meanwhile you've also rolled onto your side so that you're both facing each other with your upper bodies.

Ace is giving you a hard time, as he absently goes with his teeth over his lips, while looking down to gather his words.

"I actually thought the legendary Revolver was a guy who could be a good mate." His eyes glance past you as he grins a little sheepishly.

"Oh are you disappointed that I'm not a guy?" - "Quite the opposite…" He carefully moves his hand over the sand until he touches your fingers like it's just pure coincidence. You don't quite react to his touch, you're more interested in what he says next.

"You're also not from bad parents, Firefist…" The heated atmosphere between you is hard to ignore. Ace finally dares to lean down towards you and you can already see what's coming. You place a finger on his lips and gently press him back.

"But I don't have time for playing games with boys…" Your words escape your lips in a whisper as you search his eyes for a reaction.

"I'm not a boy y/n, I'm a man." He couldn't have said it better. His words trigger feelings in you that you desperately want to explore and lightly you support yourself to rest your lips on his.

The kiss is so gentle and innocent, as if your lips have to get used to the incredible feeling. The fire that Ace ignites in you is a thousand times stronger than anything you've ever felt before and yet your lips barely touched.

Your chest expands with excitement as Ace increases the pressure on your lips and grabs the back of your neck with one hand. You lean back slightly and enjoy the feeling of his hold.

"Ace?" You break the kiss and speak softly against his lips.

"I don't want to share a man. I want you all to myself, you understand?" You know that Ace is a womanizer and you have the feeling that he could break your heart… no matter how much you enjoy this… you're still crew members.

"I'd be crazy if I didn't take Whitebeard's favorite seriously…" Ace's words on your lips make everything in your stomach twist and somewhat out of control, you lean against him. You want to feel his fire.

You don't hesitate for long and your lips quickly meet again. This time neither of you takes the time because this rising feeling is so strong that you both have to let it out.

Ace's other hand wanders along your side while still holding the back of your neck. The tingling sensation gathers directly in your lower middle and you throw your arms around his neck, causing Ace to fall backwards a little. Eagerly, you explore his upper body with your fine fingers and go up and down his muscular frame.

While Ace gains access into your mouth, he pulls you by your arm onto his lap so that you sit on him without your lips parting once.

You begin to feel like you're craving another body for the very first time and slightly out of breath, you pull away from his lips.

You look down at Ace as he stares up at you with hungry eyes. His gaze is already so fucking hot and you long for more reactions in his face.

Your hand goes lightly to your back to undo the bow of your bikini but Ace stops you.

"Let me touch you y/n…" His voice is deeper than usual and there's something so playful about it that you can't help but surrender to him completely.

Ace's hands wander along your side until his hands are on your breasts. You've been used to the cool air for a long time, but it's Ace's hands that gives you goose bumps as they brush against your bare skin. Your nipples harden as Ace brushes your bikini top aside.

For a moment, he enjoys your womanly curves and the way the moon glistens on your skin.

"You're so fucking hot…" Ace suddenly comes up to you and pulls you into an intense French kiss. You rest your hands on his shoulders and moan slightly as he places skillful kisses on your neck. His hands rest on your hips only to push you back and forth on his lap with circular movements to relieve his arousal.

Ace knows exactly the right moves to get you going and caresses one of your nipples with his tongue while lightly pinching and pulling the other.

These overwhelming sensations make you laugh like a dirty whore as you start to move your hips to feel his erection against your wet panties. You are happier than ever that you are wearing a skirt today. But you don't want to have a dry fuck as you are far too wet for that. You want to feel Ace's dick sliding inside you…

You push Ace backwards and force him to lie down while you undo the belt of Ace's pants with your free hand.

"So we're about to get down to business, huh?" he grins dirtily at you as he crosses his arms behind his head. You run your tongue over your teeth and return his grin.

"We'll have plenty of time to explore each other thoroughly, darling." You wink at him and his breathing quickens a little as you grab his member to get it out of his pants.

Fascinated, you run your hand up and down his shaft, causing the otherwise ruthless man beneath you to whimper in relief. His cock gets a little firmer as your hand touches it, to which your cunt reacts in equal measure.

You lift yourself up a little, pull your slip to the side and place Ace's already hard cock in front of your entrance. As the tip of his cock touched your soft folds, a shiver ran down your spine and you slowly let its entire length disappear inside of you. As he filled you completely, Ace moaned in a deep, satisfied voice.

"That's never felt so good as it does now y/n…" His broken voice sends the next shiver down your spine and the growl in his voice runs through you.

At first you wanted to move slowly to get used to the filling sensation of his glory but Ace had other plans...

He bent his legs and started thrusting into you, sending you into bliss over and over again.

You're really glad that you're far away from anyone because you can fully indulge in the sensation and moan to your heart's content.

You have no idea how long this up and down has been going on, but you have the feeling that hours as well as just seconds could have passed.

You lean down to him to taste his lips on yours, but you pull away again because you enjoy it more when you straighten your back as Ace fills you up completely. You don't even think about stopping riding Ace and when you see his hat you somehow have the urge to put it on.

With some effort you reach for Ace's hat which was lying in the sand and put it on while you enjoy riding him to the fullest. The sight of you topless, in just your skirt and his hat, is enough to drive Ace crazy. He can barely contain his voice and moans like he's never done before.

"Mhhm yeah, ride me, cowgirl." His voice a little hoarse and dangerous.

That's probably the second nickname you really like.

Masterlist

Oh Ace.... ♡

➽ Next chapter

#one piece #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace #one shot ace #ace one piece #portgas ace x you #portgas d ace smut #portgas d ace one piece #ace x you

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hrhmimieucliffe · 1 month

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⚠️🔞NSFW Ramblings🔞⚠️

When I tell you that this card literally made me feral, like I was not expecting this, my mouth literally just fell open. I love Zayne so bad. I love being a Zayne girlie. The way he's just sitting there, I mean phew, I would literally pounce on him and ride him crazy, going at it like we're rabbits.

Either that, or I'd just get on my knees and start going in. Like, I'm talking grapefruit technique levels of vacuuming his cock like a rabid animal. I don't know whether I'd want to be on top of him or beneath him, he's just so... mm.. Good lawhd. I would drain him of his essence. On a pool table too? I'll play with his balls real good. We can play pool with our bodies. BALLS IN THE HOLE?! YES PLEASE‼️‼️‼️

I can just imagine being on top of him on that pool table, making him moan like crazy with how slow you ride him, every roll of your hips, making him grip your hips and guide your movements with his big strong hands, trying not to be loud so that no one else hears your little teaching session.

If Zayne has a million fans, then I am one of them. If Zayne has ten fans, then I am one of them. If Zayne has only one fan, then that is me. If Zayne has no fans, then that means I am no longer on earth. If the world is against Zayne, then I am against the world.

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream, and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carrier, against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, on the back of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce, in the pool, in the garden, bent over, in the basement, against the window, having the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, era ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffing, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan introducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, vulcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell devolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, splendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening sex ‼️‼️

"Call me strawberry because I want all his seed all over me." - Me in like 2018 or something.

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fandoms--fluff · 2 months

Text

Crushing Hard

Hybrid female reader x Hope Mikaelson (+mikaelson family & caroline)

Summary: Hope has a massive crush on you, a girl who basically nobody knows anything about. And her family comes for a surprise visit, yay.

Warnings: swearing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope has been a little obsessed with you, she admits it. She can't help but be attracted to you, you're crazy hot, not afraid to speak what you think, and your personality is amazing. And has she mentioned how drop-dead gorgeous you are?

The only setback is that you hate the school and basically everyone in it.

"You're drooling" Josie whispers into her ear. Hope snaps out of it, and brings a hand up to the corner of her mouth to find out it's completely dry. She rolls her eyes and looks up at Josie, frowning.

"Oh, you're crushing hard. Sorry for interrupting your daydream, but I'm pretty sure your family is here," Josie tells her, looking between Hope and some of her family.

"There are a bunch of newer kids this year, but still a lot of the older ones. I try to make the environment around here fully positive and happy." Caroline explains to the family. An amused snort comes from the couch a couple feet away.

"And you don't ever take a break" You glare at her. All their heads turn towards you. "This is y/n, one of the older students. I believe she came here a couple months before Hope did." Caroline sighs.

"You must be delusional because I did not come here willingly. You forced me. And still force me to be here every fucking day of the year" You stand up, crossing your arms, fury evident in your tons and stance.

"Werewolf?" Kol's the next one to speak. "I don't know, what do you think?" You snap at him before turning back to Caroline. "And that's the other thing, I've been here for how many years, and no one still knows what I am"

"You won't tell us" Caroline points out.

"Well, I would think considering you're apparently an expert on supernatural beings, and run a damn school for them, that you or anyone here would be able to tell like that" You snap your fingers at the end.

Klaus steps forward, not liking the way you've been talking to Caroline. "Oh, don't even start" You roll your eyes before he can get a word out.

"What?" Hope snaps her attention to her friend before looking in the direction Josie was a moment ago. To her surprise, her Dad, Mom, Auntie Rebekah, Uncle Kol, and Uncle Elijah are standing across the room, chatting with the headmistress, Caroline and you?

Oh no, Hope thinks to herself before getting out of her seat and quickly walking toward the group with Josie right behind her.

"Dad! What are you guys doing here?" Hope goes up to her father. "We came here for a surprise visit, but caught up in the wonderland tour," Kol told his niece, glancing at Caroline then at you.

You still have your arms crossed, leaning most of your weight on your right leg, making your left hip slightly pop out a bit more than the other.

Hope tries to keep her eyes off of you, not wanting her family or you to notice.

"Oh, nothing. Having a splendid fucking time!" You tell her in a fake cheery voice. You start walking away, "I like your shoes" you tell Rebekah before walking out of the room, your high heels clicking strongly as you do.

"She's mean..but sweet? I don't know" Caroline shakes her head. "She's like Katherine. I like her" Kol answers, smirking.

"Kol." Elijah says sternly to his little brother as Klaus galres at him.

Hope just stares at the ground, not wanting anyone to notice the flush that appeared on her face. "You okay Sweetie?" Her Mom asks. "Mhm. Uh I'm glad that you guys are here, but Josie and I have to finish a project. I'll, uh, catch up with you later" Hope tells them quickly before practically dragging Josie out of the room with her.

"What was that?" Josie asks her as Hope paces around Josie's room. Lizzie is planning a dance somewhere outside with a huge binder.

"I don't know, but now im pretty sure my family kost likely doesn't like Y/n. And if somehow my delusional relationship with her actually freaking happens then there's no point becuase there's a big chance my dad will get protective and ban her or kill her or something. Wait can she even die? I don't know, there's no way she can't die, right? Oh that would suck I'd she died before I can even make a move, or who am I kidding there's no way that's gonna happen. She probably hates me anyways. God, I'm so pathetic" Hope rants to her best friend.

"Okay, okay, calm down. You're not pathetic. You're just overthinking this way too much. There's no way Y/n hates you, I don't believe she does" Josie places her hands on Hope's shoulders, making her stop moving around.

Hope let's out a breath she didn't know she was holding in, then sighs, "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for" Josie smiles.

You walk into the dining hall, only to be met with the same group of people. "Fucking great" you practically growl, rolling your eyes. You go over to the table lined with food and grabbed a piece of garlic bread.

As you're about to take a bite of it, a voice sounds. "Are you sure you're supposed to be eating that? It says no one is to touch the food" Elijah nods to the sign standing before the long table of food.

You glance at it then shrug, "Well too bad, I'm hungry and they don't exactly have any blood beside from fucking Thumper and Bambi" you take a bite of the garlic bread.

"So you're a vampire" Rebekah says. You twitch your eyebrow up, a smirk playing at your lips.

"Depends how you perceive it" you walk over to them, your eyes turning yellow and veins appearing under your eyes.

"A hybrid" Hayley's eyes widened a bit. "Did Hope turn you?" Klaus asks, not remembering himself ever turning you.

"Seriously? You think I'd let a girl who has a crush on me, sire me? I don't think so" you cross your arms.

"Crush?" Kol asks, knowing Hope has only told him about her crush on you. He wonders how you found out, cause there's no way his neice would've told you. Especially considering the interaction earlier today.

"Not that hard to figure out. Especially when her eyes are always on me, not the chalkboard in class" you cross your arms. "Oh, and Katherine was basically my sister, so that was a compliment back there" you smirk.

"Wait, if you're that old, what are you doing here?" Hayley asks.

"Well I'm pretty sure then Caroline would hate me more than she already does, then tell Damon and he would try to kill me, but it would end up with his head cut off his body and then Elena and everyone, and personally I don't have any fucking time or want for that. Though Damon being dead would be a bonus. So mind as well make some people, aka, Caroline miserable for a bit" you pop the rest of the garlic bread in your mouth.

"What? You still have that sappy crush on her?" You tease Klaus.

You turn around and walk out of the room. As you turn the corner, you run into Hope. She looks if you had a word, sheepish.

You sigh, realizing it, "You've been here the whole time, haven't ya?" You crossed your arms.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry," She turned before walking as fast as she could away from you. She had come down here to find her family, and instead heard you talking to them again and couldn't help but eavesdrop on the conversation.

She can't believe she's been so stupid. There's no way she's ever had any chance with you. And your acknowledging about her crush on you was just the cherry on top. She wishes she was anywhere but here now.

You look up, quietly groaning, not wanting her to find out like that. Both your age (well, sort of) and the knowledge of her crush.

You vamp in front of her in a split time of two seconds. "Look, I get it, I'm just some stupid girl who has a crush on a girl or woman I don't know! who's way out of my league. No need to rub it in my face!" She exclaims, trying not to let any tears cloud her vision.

"Hey! You're not some stupid girl, okay?" You tell her before she tries to walk away from you again. She lets out a harsh breath before looking up at you from the ground.

"And I'm not trying to rub anything in your face. Yes, I know you have a crush on me, but I don't want you to think anything bad about that. I'd never use it against you or make fun of you for it, or whatever you think I may do." You run your hands through your hair to keep it out of your face.

"And I've never thought about you in that way before, but I can say that I don't hate you as much as everyone else here," She snaps her gaze from the wall to your face, not expecting that. To have that said to her from you is basically like a simple 'I love you' to someone a person may have known for a while. It's also a really big compliment coming from you.

"So there's that" You walk closer to her before pressing a kiss on her cheek. You walk away, up the stairs to your room as Hope stands there frozen. That's one of the best solutions that could have happened at the moment, and she's practically screaming with joy on the inside.

She brings a hand up to the cheek you kissed and gently grazes her finger against the spot.

Her family then also comes down the hallway and up to her. "What happened, Sweetie?" Her mom asks, noticing her reddened face.

"Oh, n-nothing," She tells her, trying her best to hold back the grin that she has on the inside.

Kol looks from her hand placement and reddened face to her excited stance, putting two and two together. He catches her eye and smirks before mouthing 'good luck'.

That just makes her blush more than she already is if that's even possible.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

Dirty Work 52

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I always come back to Loki.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Loki lingers, his head against your arm as you sit in the hue of spring. You could be calm if he weren’t there, if he hadn’t just altered your irrevocably. His wife?

You could’ve never imagined it. You can’t be his wife. You’re the maid. You’re lost and hopeless and unimportant. Yet he wants to marry you? You? Even your own father doesn’t want you. Until just then, you may have thought the same of man kneeling by your feet.

Should it feel special? Should you be happy? Doesn’t every woman dream of her wedding day? You didn’t. You never expected a husband. You never had the thought to spare marriage. It just didn’t seem realistic to you. It was never a possibility you had to weigh.

“You’re quiet,” he lifts his head slowly, looking up at you with his gemlike eyes, “aren’t you excited?”

You suck in your lip then let it out, “yeah, I’m just... surprised.”

“Mm, I’m sorry it wasn’t a better one,” he looks around, “no candles, no champagne... but there are flowers.”

“Yeah, I guess, er--”

You hear the doors and before you can face the intruder on your scene, Frigga’s voice unleashes in a shrill squeal, “did you do it? Oh, please, Loki, what did she say?”

He shifts and clears his throat. He grips the arms rest and pushes himself to his feet. He plants a kiss on your forehead before he straightens. He lets out a breath as he turns to his mother.

“We are getting married,” he says plainly.

“Oh, how wonderful,” she chimes, “oh, a daughter-in-law!... Again.” She chuckles lightly, “it will be like a fairytale.” She flutters over to you as Loki moves out of her way, “darling,” she takes your hand, tugging you up to your feet, “this will be even grander than Walpurgisnacht. Oh yes, this will be unforgettable.”

You look at Loki as he returns your helpless gaze. You pout in his direction as he shrugs. Your mouth curves deeper downward. Please help!

“I’ve got some silhouettes in mind,” she pulls you away from the table, “Hela showed me this app, Pinterest I believe it’s called. I have all these splendid things saved.”

‘Sorry,’ Loki mouths and turns his hands out as you’re dragged away from the sunlight and the serenity of nature. Back to the dark house where you can’t breathe.

Inside, she takes you into the kitchen. She leaves you by the island as she flits around, dropping black tea into a pot and putting on the kettle to boil. She hums gleefully as you just stare. ‘Daughter-n-law'. That’s what she said. Would that make her your mother?

“Dear,” she turns to you and exhales, her expression dampening, “I recall you said your mother isn't with us anymore. I understand that may make this bittersweet for you but I will be here for you. Whatever you need, whatever questions you have, I’ll be happy to help. A wedding is a big thing. There’s much to do.”

You nod, “should we... should we hire a planner?”

“A planner? Gods no! I fancy myself a bit of an amateur but more than adequate,” she tuts, “we could have it at the house. Or perhaps we might seek out a nice chapel.”

You frown. It’s all so much so fast. She stops and puts her hand to her chest, “oh sorry, darling, I’m just so excited for you. I’m not trying to take over. Don’t be afraid to speak up. What do you think for a venue? Oh, perhaps a destination? Somewhere tropical?”

You cross your arms and peer over, your eyes catching the sheen of sunlight.

“The garden,” you murmur, “the gazebo. It’s all fixed up. We could put flowers around the rails.”

“That’d be a beautiful ceremony but what about the reception? We need space.”

“Oh,” you babble.

“Certainly we could make it work. We could fit people into the garden, we may have to sacrifice a few hedges.”

“Not many,” you mutter.

“Pardon, dear?” She asks as the kettle clicks and she turns to grab it off the burner, “what do you mean by that?”

“I...” your shoulders slump at the realisation, “I don’t have anyone to invite.”

She’s quiet as she pours the steaming water into the tea pot, “that’s not true. You have us and oh, Bragi seemed quite fond of you.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Why not? Dear, we love Loki because we have to, we love you because we want to,” she smiles.

Your eyes drift away wistfully. She can’t understand. She has people, she has everything you ever wanted. Even with the promise of a pretty house, a gorgeous garden, and all that comes with it, it just doesn’t make you feel any different.

You want a dad who loves you. You want a mother who’s alive. You want anyone who isn’t just obligated to you.

“I’m sorry,” her voice goes low, “I’m not meaning to upset you. I’ll slow down. I understand it’s a lot--”

“How could you want me to marry him? I don’t belong—I shouldn’t-- I can’t be your daughter.”

“Why ever not?” She asks.

You scoff and push your shoulders up, “I’m not good enough.”

She laughs, but not a taunting laugh. It’s disbelieving. She takes you by the shoulders and makes you face her head on, “darling, let me tell you, you are. You... you have no idea.”

“No idea?” You shake your head as you look at her from beneath your lashes.

“About what you do to my son. No, you cannot see it but I do. My Loki. I’ve seen him married, I’ve seen him heartbroken, I’ve seen him through everything, but something’s different about this. About you,” he brings a hand up to caress your cheek and hairline, “you have a power over him. Once you claim it, this will all be so much easier.” She cups your cheeks and tilts her head with a coy smile, “that’s how a marriage should be, you will see. He’ll never admit it but my son is more like his father than you would think.”

You scrunch up your nose. You don’t believe her. You can’t. You don’t have power. You’re just you. You’re not special or anything like that. You now what you are to Loki. The same thing you’ve always been to him, whether his maid, his plaything, or his wife; convenient.

“You will see,” she assures as if she can hear your doubts, “and what always clears my mind is tea.”

✨

Frigga expounds at length about all the possibilities ahead of you. She has grocery list that goes beyond a mere wedding. An engagement party, a bridal shower, the rehearsal, and not to mention, a scandalous bachelorette. You only sink further into anxiety. What have you gotten yourself into?

Well, you never did say yes. You weren’t asked, were you? Doesn’t matter. It’s not like you have anywhere to go.

You hold your chin, gnawing on your lip as Frigga rambles on about wedding colours. Green is nice but what about something subtle. Oh, or metallic. You simply nod, offering little to her monologue.

Your eyes wander past her to the windows. The afternoon wanes as evening cools the air. You mourn the sunlight as it shifts and the curtains dull.

“Ahem,” the clearing of a throat draws you away from your detachment.

Frigga quiets as she glances at her husband. He stands in the doorway, greeting you both with a subtle smile.

“I hate to interrupt, dear,” he says to Frigga, “but I was hoping I might be spared a moment with our future daughter before the sun sets. It has been a long day and I’d hate to keep her later than need be.”

“Oh, uh, certainly,” Frigga pushes her shoulders back, her cheeks tinging a dainty pink, “time must’ve got away from me. I’m so sorry, darling.” She reaches over and squeezes above your elbow, “I have been going on and on.”

“You will have lots of time to do so,” Odin chuckles, “but I feel the rain coming soon and I would like a walk in the gardens before then.” He tilts his head towards you, “may I have the honour?”

Frigga nudges you dips her head, “go on.”

You stand and swallow tightly, crossing the room to Odin as he waits patiently. You offer a sheepish look as he offers his arm. You thank him and walk with him into the entryway. He lets you retrieve your shoes before you go to the back doors and he ushers you outside.

You’re quiet as you descend the steps and stroll between the hedges. You feel the cool dampness creeping in the air. He’s right about the rain. You cling to his arm as a shiver crawls up your spine.

He draws away briefly, slipping off his thick cardigan, and he slips it over your shoulders. You murmur a thank you and he loops his arm with yours once again. You carry on, uncertain. You can sense he means to say something and you think you know what. He isn’t as happy as Frigga about this union.

You brace yourself for it. For him to put all your doubts to voice. You’re not good enough for Loki. This is a mistake. You are a pretender and you don’t belong in this family.

“My son is a fool,” he begins, shaking you with his soft but deep tone. You exhale, somewhat comforted that you were right. For once. “The way he’s behaved, foolish. And that’s to put it lightly, my dear.” He reaches to pat your hand in the crook of his arm, “you deserve much better than either of my sons.”

You keep your chin low as you watch your feet. A twig crushes beneath your sole as leaves rustle to your left. You glance over and stare after a short tail before it disappears. It’s only then you realise where he’s leading you.

The gazebo rises ahead of you with it’s domed roof. He stops you at the bottom and turns. He lets you go and lowers himself to sit on the step. He pats the wood next to him. As you sit, he looks up, admiring the structure.

“You did a good job,” he says.

“What?”

“On this,” he touches the railing, “looks sturdy.”

“Oh, well I... I only called the carpenter.”

“You did what needed to be done. What my son would not.”

“Mm, I guess,” you shrug.

“You did,” he insists, “do you not see it?”

“See what?” You twiddle your fingers.

“You are much stronger than he thinks you are. Than you think you are,” he shakes his head, “you underestimate yourself. My son, as much as I hate to think I raised him that way, while whine and whine before he gets anything done. If he can avoid it, it won’t be done. But you, I see it clearly, you do things. You know what life is. You just get through it.”

You hum and bite down on your cheeks. Not having a choice isn’t bravery. If anything, it’s the opposite.

“You shouldn’t. Just get through it. You should have some joy. You shouldn’t be locked away in the dark away from the sunlight. You should flourish in it,” he leans against you, “don’t let this marriage be like everything else.”

You dip your head. He sees right through you.

“You’re wrong, I’m not strong. I’m weak. I only do things because I’m afraid,” you sniffle.

“But you can admit that fear. You can face it. Not many people can.”

You sighs and drag your hands up and down your calves, hunching over your knees.

“If you want to marry my son, I will not say a word to stop you, but I do want you to make a promise to me,” he continues, “a small one. Rather, think of it as a promise to yourself.”

“Okay,” you wilt as you look over at him. His eyes are a bluish grey with flecks of slate. His gaze is gentle.

“It’s what we spoke of before,” he says, “you must tell my son no.”

“No?”

“Ah, yes, I do regret he didn’t hear more it earlier in his life but he does need to hear it. Especially from you,” he intones.

“But I...”

“You will. And when you do, he will listen.”

“How-- no, he wouldn’t.”

“Ah, I know. My son is isn’t very good at that but he will. He must. He has reason to listen now. You are not his wife yet,” he puts his hand over yours, just atop your knee.

You give a strained look, somewhere between a smile and frown. You’re flattered that he believe in you but you don’t. He doesn’t know the way it. He doesn’t know the way you are.

“Alright, let’s practice,” he pulls his hand away and claps. He pushes himself to his feet with a grunt and spins to face you. He adjusts his collar and lifts his chin, putting on face, almost a pinched look, “now, wife,” his voice is slightly off, “what I say is law and you will do as I say.”

You stare at him, confused. You purse your lips and shake your head. What is he talking about?

He grins and shows his palms, “I am him. Pretend I’m my son,” he lowers his voice, “now, we’ve had enough of this conversation and I have made my decision.”

You pick your nail, watching him dumbly.

He breaks character again, “say no.”

“What?”

“Say it,” he orders then once more his poster shifts. “Wife, I will not tell you again.”

You blink and take a deep breath, “n--no?”

He sputters, “pardon? What was that?”

“No,” you say firmer, heart beating, “no, I—I won’t.”

“But I said so--”

“Oh, um, okay--”

“No, no, no,” Odin waves his hands, “keep going.”

“Uh, okay, uh, no,” you say again.

“No? You’re telling me no?” He puts on a display which does remind you of Loki. “How can you tell me no?”

You look at him and blanch. His grey eyes stare back, goading you on. He bows his head slightly.

“Yes, I mean, no. Yes, I am telling you no. No,” you steady your voice, “no.” He spins his finger and you repeat it again, loudly.

He arches his brow and puts his hand to his chest, “no?” He sounds almost pathetic, “but darling,” he comes forward and lowers himself to his knees, one at a time. He takes your hand in his, “darling, please, don’t be mad at me.”

You scoff as his theatrics turn ridiculous. You make a face and roll your eyes, “he wouldn’t...”

“He will,” Odin assures. “If he knows you’re serious, if you don’t give him what he wants right away, oh, I think you could give him a right scare. As I have it, you already have done.” He lifts himself slightly and angles to sit beside you again, “just perhaps this time you needn’t scale the roof.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers

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dioll · 5 days

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TAKE ME ON AN ‘ 𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝓊𝑒 𓇼

— bahama 에스파

⊹ ݁ ⋆ — 희승 x reader ・ genre. fluff ・ warnings. lowercase intended , kisses , physical touch ・ wc. 225 ݁𖥔. ENHYPEN 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 —

feet sinking into the warm sand, gusts of air breezing against your flowy floral printed skirt with ruffles and dainty jewels, hair blowing with the wind, revealing your seashell necklace, in which heeseung customised uniquely, just for you. your dashing smile gleaming brighter than the sun. how your eyes are more inviting than the sparkling ocean itself. you’re indeed his favourite sight.

as you admire the sunset over the horizon, he hugs your waist, placing soft kisses to your temples.

“sunsets are the most beautiful sights to witness.” you say, as your eyes remain glued to the splendid view right in front of you.

“not when you exist.” he says as he hides his face in the crook of your neck.

lifting his head to whisper in your ear, “you make life more beautiful, there’s no need to visit the wonders of the world when i have you right in my arms.” his grip on you is firm as he gently kisses your cheek.

the moonlight dances on your skin, as you turn around to face heeseung. he presses his forehead against yours and leans in for a kiss, flooded with passion.

“i love you, heeseung.” you say as your hands rest on his shoulders.

“i love you the most, my angel y/n” he replies as the evening is sealed with yet another lingering kiss.

🪸・ @cupidhoons @flwrstqr @jwsdoll @copyhanni @cholexc @onlyjjong

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alastor-simp · 4 months

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"A What Now?” - Alastor x Non-binary Reader

This was requested to me by @dudeidontknowok

I’m sure you are all aware Alastor is not very up to date with new sexuality’s and genders, seeing he was from the 1920s, so this will be my take on him reacting to a nonbinary reader. Enjoy!

“Let’s see…the man said take a left here and the hotel should be right….” Walking through the narrow streets in the Pride ring, you were trying to spot the Hazbin Hotel. Your name was y/n and you had just arrived in Hell a few hours ago. It was a very odd experience, suddenly dying in an accident and ending up in a place with a blood red sky and people looking like something from a cartoon, but at least you were glad you weren’t fully dead dead. The streets were havoc walking through them, fires popping up everywhere, random people getting stabbed or robbed and some others were just high out of their minds. A little flyer had landed in front of you, saying “Come to the Hazbin Hotel!” Seemed decent enough, but there was no map on the flyer and since you just arrived, you had no idea where to look. Thankfully the first demon you asked was friendly and not psycho bonkers crazy, and he explained the direct path that led to the hotel.

You had reached your destination and in front of you was a huge building, neon sign flashing “HAZBIN HOTEL”. It seemed a little run-down, but there were some good qualities about it. Heading up to the door, you stared at them, feelings of hesitation in your stomach. You had no idea if this was just a trap to lure people like you to get killed or worse. Taking a deep breath, you lifted your hand to knock on the door.

Before it could make contact, the door had swung open. A very tall man was standing in front of you. He was almost 6 or 7 feet tall, wearing a red striped suit, accompanied with a bow tie and red monocle on his face. His hair was in a bob cut, and dyed red to black. The smile he had on his face was enormous, making your cheeks hurt from how wide it was. His slitted red eyes stared down at you, a hint of shock in them as he probably didn’t expect someone to be at the door. “AH!, A newcomer! Hello my dear/young fellow! Have you come to stay at the hotel?” His voice sounded like it was coming out of a radio. He bent down, his face leaning closer to yours, making you feel a bit uneasy, since he appeared very intimidating. Giving a small smile, you gave a nod, leading to him grabbing your hand. “Splendid! Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Alastor! And you are?” he was very animated, given how wacky his reactions were. “My name is Y/N, and you don’t have to call me dear/fellow, just my name is fine.” He arched an eyebrow at that, as he pulled you in, allowing you to enter the hotel.

Your head darted all around, taking in everything. It was very spacious, and the decor was pleasing to the eye, but there was some hints that it still needed some work, given the wall you saw that was being repaired and some bugs crawling. You realized there were other people staying at the hotel as well. There was a tall, lanky spider lounging on one of the couches, phone in hand. There was another female demon, speeding around the hotel with a broom in hand. It was hard to figure how what she looked like, but she was very cute. Noticing there was a bar, you gazed at it and took a look at the bartender. He was the definition of a grumpy cat, given the scowl on his face. His mouth was attached to a beer bottle, chugging away. He noticed you looking and gave a slight nod, while still drinking the beer. A giant snake man was sitting on the ground, appearing to be fiddling with some device, he looked up, smiled, and went back to work. Al had brought you over to the couch, where the spider was staying, and made you take a seat. "Wait right here! I'll go fetch the owner of this establishment!" Al said, as he snapped his fingers, disappearing. Well that shocked you, you had no idea he had powers, maybe you had some as well.

Your thoughts got interrupted when you felt two arms, grab at your waist, pulling you closer to the other demon. "Well hey there handsome/toots~. Never seen the likes of you before, you new in hell?" The spider smirked down you, letting you see his gold tooth shining." You nodded and said you were which made the spider smile more. "Name is Angel dust~. Now tell me your name, toots/handsome." This was making you a bit uncomfortable. "Um could you please not call me that. I don't identify with male or feminine terms. My name is Y/N, by the way." Angel's eyes widen at that, and he rubbed his neck with one of his hands, "Oh sh✪✪, my bad. Didn't mean to offend ya." Giving him a smile, you pat one of the hands that was on your waist, saying it was fine.

The sounds of feet clattering against the floor alerted you, making you turn your head. A women, dressed in a red suit had ran into the lounge. She had pretty blonde hair that was tied up, and her cheeks had two cute red dots on them. The smile on her face was radiant, it could make the sun jealous. "HELLO! Oh my goodness, another patient! My name is Charlie, its so nice to meet you!" She had extended her arms out, squeezing you with a hug while you remained on the couch. Letting out a laugh at her energy, you hugged her back. Looking over her shoulder, you spotted Alastor walking back in, along with another girl with white hair and an X on her eye? Strange.

Charlie finally let you go, standing up while grabbing the other girls hand. "Let me introduce everyone, this is Vaggie, my girlfriend. Angel Dust is the one next to you. Husk is the bartender. Niffty is the little one running around. Sir Pentious is another one of our patients, and I'm sure you met Alastor." You turned your head at all the new names you heard, giving a smile and small wave to everyone, which they gave back, except Husk as he still looked grumpy. The little one, Niffty, had rushed up towards you, jumping up in front of you: "Ooooo... she/he is very pretty." There it was again, that feeling of discomfort. Angel Dust noticed your expression, giving your shoulder a rub. "Niffty, they are non-binary. Don't call them he or she, ya got it? That goes for all of you as well." Angel said as he pointed at everyone. Niffty blinked up at Angel, seeming confused before smiling, letting out an okay.

"Pardon me, a what now?" a static voice had spoken out, letting you know it was Alastor. He had walked closer to where you were sitting, head tiled in confusion. Angel was about to say something, but Charlie chimed in. "Alastor, they don't see themselves as man or a women. They may have male or feminine features, but they don't fall into either of the categories. Does that make sense?" Charlie helped explained it to Alastor. His head stayed tilted, clearly still confused. "I'm afraid I still don't follow, my dear. During my time, there were only gentleman and ladies." His time? Your mind picked up on that

"Um, sorry for interrupting, but what do you mean by your time?" You copied Alastor, tiling your head. Alastor perked up at that. "Ah, I was born in the roaring 1920s! Ah how I miss it so!" Dang, he was from the 1920s!!! That must be why he didn't know. "Ahh, that makes much more sense. Don't think so hard on it Alastor, its fine." Alastor still seemed a bit puzzled, and he wanted to say something else, but he was cut off by Charlie. "Well since your going to be staying here now at the hotel, you'll need a room! Come! I'll bring you to it." Grabbing your hand, Charlie pulled you off the couch, and began to walk away from the lounge. Turning your head back, you gave a small wave to the others, which they returned back. Alastor was still gazing at you, as you left, along with his shadow that eyed you with curiosity.

Charlie had brought you to your room, also letting you know that your neighbor would be Angel Dust, which she hoped you wouldn't mind, which you didn't. The room was marvelous, all nice and tidy and it even had a outdoor balcony. "Welp I should probably head back down to everyone, I'll bring you some new clothes since I'm sure you want to freshen up, let me know if you need anything else, okay?" Charlie beamed at you, making you smile. Thanking her, you told her you would do that, earning you another hug from her. Soon she left the room, leaving you by yourself. Well, might as well take a shower.

**Later in the evening**

After your shower and wearing the comfy lounge clothes Charlie brought, you headed back down to where everyone was. It was time for dinner and on the menu for tonight was lasagna. Apparently, Angel made it himself, letting you know he was well versed in Italian cuisine. Dinner with everyone was nice, it was a bit chaotic, but your heart felt warm being around everyone. They were all a bit kooky, but still friendly. Soon it was time for bed. Everyone bid you a goodnight as they headed to their rooms, while you walked away with Angel next to you. "Night y/n." Angel said, giving a big yawn while stretching his four arms in the air. "Goodnight." you said back, as you went inside your room.

Sadly, you weren't very tired, so you decided to head over to the balcony and stay for a bit. The view was nice, and so was the breeze. Leaning against the railing, you gave a sigh, peering into the maroon sky. "Trouble sleeping?" a static voice appeared next to you, making you jump. Turning around, you see that it was Alastor, grinning with glee that he managed to frighten you. "Jeez, you nearly gave me a heart attack." your hand was placed against your chest, which was still racing. Alastor gave a chuckle, and leaned his arms against the railing, copying you: "Oh I wouldn't want that to happen! I have grown very fond of you!" His smile was mischievous, but his eyes gave away that he was telling the truth. You turned back to look at the sky, before you heard Alastor speak again. "May I ask something?" Turning back, you gazed at him, waiting for his response.

"Well, could you go into more detail about the whole non beanery, was it, again?" He lifted one of his hands in the air, spinning it around, as he was trying to come up with the word. You quickly broke into laughter. Non-beanery!?! What the heck was that?! Alastor watched you, as you continued to laugh, wondering what was so funny. "Its non-binary, Al. I basically don't see myself as a male or a female. Growing up, I felt different then everyone around me. In my soul, I knew that. So after a while, I came out as non-binary, it was odd to tell everyone I grew up with that, but hey, I was still me. Yes I know to you, it's a bit strange given you were born in the era where there was always two genders, but that's what I am and I'm comfortable with it."

After your speech, your irises kept staring into Al's. He had not said a word, gazing at you still. His smiled had relaxed more into a soft grin. "Thank you for explaining it. I'm not the type to apologize often, but I wish to offer my apologies about before. It wasn't my intention to come off as rude." Your heart felt warm after hearing the sweet apology, you told him it was fine. Alastor smiled and turn back to look at the sky, before he turned his head back quickly, causing it to emit a loud snap. "How would you like me to address you then? Now you must be patient with me, since it will take me a while to adjust!" You were happy that he was taking this very seriously, other people you have told usually brushed it off, but it was nice that he cared. "My name is fine, but if you are ever mentioning me in a conversation, say they/them, okay?" Alastor's signature smile returned, and he gave a nod. "Duly noted!" The both of you gazed at each other smiling, before turning back to stare at the night sky.

~END~

Tagging:

@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen, @aceofcards0-0, @jyoongim, @saturnhas82moons, @unholycheesesnack , @luujjvi, @forbidden-sunlight, @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping@danveration , @demoarah, @cookiekyo , @iiotic, @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie , @lokis-imaginary-friend , @themysteriousslenderman

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imthebadguyyy · 9 months

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Something Just Like This II

pairing - charles leclerc x reader

fandom - f1

summary - a look into your relationship

part - ii (part II) (part III )

a/n - more angst??

"everyone, I want you to meet charlotte”

never before had a single sentence made your head whirl the way it was. never before had you felt nauseous at the sight of your best friend, but that day, the wine you had drunk threatened to make an unpleasant comeback. never before had you felt your heart shatter at the sight of a person before, but you swore you heard your fragile heart shatter into a milllion unfixable pieces, as you stared at the gorgeous brunette with the sweet smile, currently greeting charles’ family.

it wasn’t just you that stood shell shocked. pascale stared openly at her son, confusion and sadness visible in her eyes, but nevertheless, the matriarch of the leclerc family greeted the young girl with a smile, kissing her on the cheek and welcoming her to the home that suddenly felt so cold to you. lorenzo stood up to, ever the kind hearted one, greeting her and offering a glass of wine to her.

arthur was the only one that sat shell shocked, mouth agape, and it wasn’t till lorenzo nudged hum gently that he stood up to greet the woman.

the smile on charles’ face made your already hurting heart ache a little more. he looked so happy, and you hated it. you felt the easy tears rising again, threatening to spill over, but you forced them back. no. you were not going to have a breakdown in front of charles and his family, and his new girlfriend. girlfriend. the word had never seemed so painful before.

but you put on your camera smile, flashing charlotte a warm smile, and giving her a small hug. “Hello, I’m y/n” you smiled softly at her, admitting to yourself that she really was a beauty. "hello, I’m charlotte, I’m a big fan!” she exclaimed, and you forced yourself to keep the smile on your face. “always a pleasure to meet the fans” you joked half heartedly, and she laughed. much to your relief, pascale, sensing your discomfort, pulled the girl into a conversation on the other side, leaving you, arthur, lorenzo and charles in her drawing room.

"so charlotte sine huh?” arthur asked, face blank of any emotion. he recognised the girl well, having grown up quite near the family. “yes, I met her the other day on my run and figured I might as well ask her out on a date” he smiled, grinning it himself at the memory. “she seems nice, n’est ce pas?” lorenzo asked, throwing you a sympathetic smile. “oui, elle est tres gentile” he affirmed, and you fought back the urge to cry once more. “mais, y/n, you didn’t tell me you would be here?” he said, pulling you in for a hug,

y/n. not cherie. that was your first thought. of course you wouldn’t be cherie anymore. no, you’d have to give up that title, you reasoned, inhaling a shaky breath.

"i wasn’t supposed to. but i met maman in the afternoon and she invited me over for dinner, and i missed you guys so i thought i might as well” you said, quite honestly. “lovely, that way I can introduce you to charlotte too, no?” he smiled, and you faked a smile once more, before politely excusing yourself.

taking deep shaky breaths, you slipped into the balcony, glass of wine still in hand, sipping on it slowly to keep you grounded, you recognised the sound of feet softly making their way to you, and before you knew it, arthur’s blue shirt came into your line of sight.

how are you holding up?” he asked, wrapping his warm around.

you let out a shaky breath, taking another sip of your wine, and throwing him a watery smile. “simply splendid, tur” you whispered, and arthur swore he felt his heart break for his older sister.

"il ne sait pas ce qu’il ressent cherie, donne lui de temps, je sais qu’il t’aime” he doesn’t know how he feels darling, give him some time, I know he loves you he said, and you let the first tear drop, feeling it roll slowly down your cheek and drip onto the railing.

“no don’t cry” arthur mumbled, feeling such sadness on your behalf. with a soft sigh, he pulled you in for a proper hug, letting you bury your face in his shirt, and balancing your wine glass on the balcony railing.

how had it come to this? this wasn’t how you expected your night to go. you had hoped at the end of it you and charles would have been the ones cuddled up on the couch, laughing and chatting with his mother.

but unfortunately, fate had different plans.

dinner was an oddly quiet affair. pascale’s delicious dinner received multiple compliments from the five of you, but there was an odd tenseness in the air. and you knew it was because of your presence, that the atmosphere was so tense.

"merci maman, pour le diner, mais, je pense qui je vais rentrer chez moi, maintenant, je suits tres fatigue” thank you mum for the dinner, but I think i will head home now, I’m very tired you said, giving the woman who had been a second mother to you all your life a tight hug. you saw your own sad smile reflected on her face, and she gave you a bowl of chocolate mousse to take home.

"leaving already?” lorenzo asked, pulling you in for a hug as well.

“oui, je suis tres fatigue, enzo” you whispered, and he dropped a kiss to the top of your head. “d'accord, bonne nuit ange” he said, and you smiled at him. arthur insisted on walking you all the way to your car, and you let him, grateful for his company.

“is he gonna be with her forever?” you asked, the childish question slipping past your lips, voicing the fears you had in your heart. you knew it was silly to ask. but you had to ask, you just had to.

"no, don't be silly ange. of course he won't. i know he's my brother and i do love him unconditionally but he is terrible at maintaining relationships. in fact he is utterly hopeless. you know why? because he isn't with the woman he truly loves" arthur stated, helping you into your car.

you just sighed, leaning up to kiss his cheek and then starting the engine. the roar of your ferrari brought a small smile to your face, and waving him goodbye, you drove out.

yes, you were distraught but no, you were not going going to let it wreck you. but even as you forced yourself to be strong, you could feel your heart cracking into a million pieces in your chest. you had felt heartbreak before but never had you felt so absolutely wrecked over someone. not just someone.

your best friend. your bestest friend in the whole wide world.

and you had never told him you loved him.

the thought brought bile rising to your throat, and you had to pull over to throw up.

finally, you stopped resisting the tears, and let yourself break down completely in the car, parked near the dock in monaco. you sobbed and sobbed and wailed, lashing out at the wheel of your ferrari, releasing all your pent up hurt.

you turned the radio up, trying to muffle out the sound of your tears. the last thing you expected was the knock on your window, that had you reaching for the pepper spray and slowly lowering the window.

"hey, you doing okay y/n? i saw your car and i heard what sounded like crying so i thought.." your eyes met lewis' sweet ones, currently displaying concern for you.

lewis hamilton leaned down, taking in your red eyes and nose.

he knew you quite well, he had seen you with charles and lorenzo and andrea very frequently around the paddock, and had even spent time with you in monaco when charles invited him for dinner.

he'd never admit it, but he had always thought you were beautiful. but a few stories from pierre suggested to him that you and charles were a thing so he never said anything to you.

but here you were, tears streaming down your face, blasting someone like you by adele on the radio and he knew something was wrong.

"oh! hey lewis. didn't think anyone would be here, i just wanted a minute" you smiled.

"i can leave if you want, just wanted to make sure everything was okay" he said, and you were touched by the sincerity in his eyes.

"im okay" you spoke softly, not trusting your voice to go above a whisper. "but i could do with some company" you admitted, chuckling.

"anytime" he smiled back at you. you opened to door to your car, letting him slide in the passenger seat.

"out on a jog were you?" you asked, driving down to your favourite icecream store (vegan of course)

"yep, i had a lot on my mind and i just wanted to run it all off y'know" he said, and you noticed the shift in his eyes and the sadness reflecting in them.

"this season's getting to you isn't it?" you whispered, and felt your heart go out to him when he nodded.

"lewis, one season doesn't define you...and you've been performing marvellously considering the car you have. im not exactly an f1 whiz but you're still the best. without a doubt" you said honestly.

lewis chuckled, and then turned to face you directly. "don't let charles hear you say that" he joked, and immediately he noticed the shift in your demeanour.

"uh yeah i won't" you mumbled, with a tight smile. "is everything okay with you two?" lewis asked, concerned.

you sighed, stopping at the store and looking determinedly out the window, trying your hardest not to cry.

"yeah it's all okay. im just a little overwhelmed right now is all" you sighed.

lewis nodded, not pushing you to tell him anything you didn't want to.

"c'mon, let's go and get some ice cream" he smiled at you, getting up to open your door.

your story

caption : late night snack 💗@lewishamilton

replies -:

@.yourbestfriend - girlie pop is that lewis hamilton you've tagged?!?!

@.arthurleclerc - icecream without me? :(

@lorenzotl- icecream with lewis?

@lewishamilton - had so much fun! definitely trying the biscoff one next time💜

@.charlesleclerc - is that our icecream spot y/n?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

sighing, you let your hand crash against the piano, wincing at the discordant notes.

this stupid melody had been playing around in your head for weeks and you couldn't put it into a proper song.

at the same time you had also decided the best thing you could do was put space between you and charles, and so, your communication had decreased significantly.

arthur still spoke to you regularly and visited you almost every week. he often brought carla along, who you adored, and who thought of you as an older sister.

he kept you updated on how everyone was doing, and you spoke to lorenzo and pascale over text when you could.

but of course it was hard to avoid your best friend when your social media feed was full of posts about him, now more often with his girlfriend, and you were having a hard time ignoring it.

letting your head drop back, you stretched, hearing your back crack like bubble wrap. the ding of the text notification from your phone made you sit up, smiling when you saw lewis' contact pop up on the screen

lewis h 💜: hey, just wanted to check in on you and make sure you're doing okay?

you : hello, I'm doing okay, thank you for asking 🫶🏼

lewis h 💜: what have you been upto?

you : just trying to figure out this melody, it's driving me insane

lewis h 💜: don't dress about it. i've heard your music and it's absolutely phenomenal. just relax, breathe, and let the music flow.

you : thank you. i can't thank you enough

lewis h 💜: anytime darling 💗 hope to see you soon?

you : ill be there at the monaco grand prix!

lewis h 💜: ive been meaning to ask, would you like to come as my guest to the mercedes hospitality?

you : id love to but..i don't want to cause a media storm..

lewis h 💜: fuck the media honestly. if i want to bring a friend to the paddock, ill bring a friend to the paddock.

you: lewis hamilton swears? 😯

lewis h 💜: hahaha. so ill see you there?

you : yes. ill be there 💗

lewis h 💜: looking forward to it y/n 💗

smiling, you put your phone down, almost giddy with excitement.

like magic, the melody seemed to fall into place and you called your friend jack.

"hey jack, I've got this idea, but ill need some help" you said.

jack antonoff laughed and said, "on it. another pop hit in the making?" he smirked and you laughed. "i sure hope so. ill see you soon then"

you smiled to yourself.

maybe life wasn't so bad after all.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@kymillman- @yourinstagram arriving at the monaco grand prix, but not in her usual manner with @.charlesleclerc, but rather with @lewishamilton, with a mercedes cap. she also made her way past the ferrari hospitality and went to the mercedes hospitality, but always a pleasure to photograph her.

@predestinato - oh dear what did charles do :( she's always supporting charles at all the races and she's been at every monaco grand prix since he got into f1. i miss her :(

@charles16monaco - she's with lewis now? i was hoping to see her at monaco with the leclercs.

@ynfan23 - mother is serving as always!! but i do wonder where charles is...

@ynlnisaqueen - serving looks and badassery.

@charlesbanana - charlie noo :( but yn looks gorgeous as always but i don't want to lose her to mercedes 😭

@lh44fanbase - sir lewis?? shooting his shot?? with our resident popstar queen?

pushing your sunglasses up your nose, you took in the sight of the monaco paddock, smiling as the sun warmed your skin.

the buzz and chatter and roar of engines felt like home, and you felt so excited to be back.

you spotted lewis, walking with roscoe to the media pen, and you watched as he turned towards you and shot you a bright smile.

you didn't expect him to turn and sprint towards you, and wrap you in a hug. you heard the click of cameras behind you but you didn't care. you were glad to have a friend in the paddock.

it felt a little strange to not walk into the red, bustling ferrari hospitality, and instead into the calm atmosphere of the mercedes one. it felt strange to walk past the sea of red, and you did feel a tinge of guilt.

lewis noticed. and he nudged you, bending to whisper, "it's okay, we're just here as friends. and it's just one race. let's just chill okay. ill treat you to more icecream too" he smiled and you giggled, walking into the hospitality.

across the paddock, charles frowned. he hadn't known you would be at the paddock. you were always at the monaco paddock with him, ever since his first grand prix.

he was used to seeing you wearing some element of red, a cap or a shirt or pants. but you were wearing a mercedes cap, and you hadn't even bothered to tell him you would be at the gp.

he pursed his lips, and decided to make his way to the car. he just needed to be focused on the quali and not on how you were with lewis-

no. he shook his head vigorously. he did not need that image in his head.

from the corner of his eye, he saw carlos approaching, and he sighed. he knew what he'd ask.

"cabron, where is y/n? why is she at mercedes? what did you do?" he asked.

"i did not do anything and i don't know why she's there" he said, sounding more put off than he meant to.

"are you sure? she always supports ferrari.." he trailed off, noticing how sad charles looked.

"what do you think happened?" carlos asked, leaning against the wall. the spaniard hadn't know you for very long, but in the time that he had, he had become one of your closest confidantes. he knew he would have trusted you with anything.

"i don't know, but she has been distant lately ever since..." he trailed off, unsure of the conclusion he had come to.

"ever since what?" carlos asked, growing impatient.

"ever since i introduced charlotte to her and my family.." he trailed off, eyes clouding over.

"ah. i see" carlos said. he didn't have to say anything else. he knew that charles knew, what exactly he wanted to say.

"mate, i know that you and charlotte broke up, and I know that it's because of a very strong reason. don't mess up mate. she's something special and you know it." carlos told his friend.

charles sighed, eyes dropping to the floor.

"best of luck for quali mate" carlos said, clapping him on the back and leaving to get ready for his own quali.

unfortunately for them, quali was shit for ferrari. engine issues meant that charles was p10 and carlos as p12, and much more irksome was the fact that lewis qualified p1, and the cameras had planned to your grinning and clapping.

he stormed off to the drivers room, slamming his helmet on the ground and sinking down onto the bed, roughly grabbing his own hair.

"tu es tellement stupide charles, tellement stupide et maintenant tu perds l'amour de ta vie"

sighing, he reached for his phone, and opened up instagram. he instantly wished he hadn't.

the first post he saw made his heart shatter into a thousand pieces.

@yourinstagram - delighted to announce my new single 'it's nice to have a friend' is out now on!! to all my friends who've been there for me, new and old, i love you to saturn and back. thank you for being my people and for loving me and guiding me through everything. i love u all 🫶🏼💗

tagged - @yourbestfriend @lewishamilton @carla.brocker @lilymunihe @kika.gomes

@ynfans77 - OMG WHAT A MEW SJMGLE I AM LISINF MT MIND

-@ynisabadassqueen - same girlie sameee!! 😭 miss maam really just dropped a banger out of nowhere.

@ynrules - OH MY GOD ITS SO GOOD YAS KWEEN SLAY!!

@kika.gomes - forever proud of u my love 🫶🏼so glad to have seen you make this song and see u power through life. honoured to be your friend and ill love u forever. always wanna hang out with u.

@lewishamilton - honoured to be on your team. my support is with you always. so proud 💜

@yourbestfriend - my favouritest friend. my babygirl. my love. my sweetheart. my talented darling. forever proud of you. forever glad i gave u my glove. 🩷

@lilymunihe- my darling u are a force and i adore u. you're my favourite person ever. so proud and i'm always there for u. ps alex has been sobbing for half an hour I think u broke him

-@alexalbon- no I am not lily 😭😭 but gorgeous job y/n. many congratulations 🎉

@carla.brocker - congratulations mom soeur. i love u always 🩷💗🫶🏼 so glad to have u in my life and have u guiding me. you're an icon and a force to be reckoned with. forever grateful for u.

@arthur.leclerc - you are truly a wonder. congratulations cherie! 🩷

@yncharles2216 - she didn't tag charles :( all those years of friendship...

@charlesfans - she's two faced. forgot charles already.

-@ynfans - we don't need u here. mother slays and you're a loser.

liked by @arthur.leclerc @.kika.gomes @.yourbestfriend and @carla.brocker

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

charles took in the sight of the blue waters surrounding the boat.

his brothers, their girlfriends, his mother and their friends had all decided to spend the day on the boat. lorenzo and arthur were enjoying the football game on the tv, and carla and charlotte (lorenzo's girlfriend) were enjoying a sunbathing session on the deck.

charles sighed. he missed your presence on the boat. in fact, he missed your presence overall. usually, the both of you would be chatting away to glory, or playing games or just lounging about together.

he hadn't realized exactly how much your presence meant to him until you had slowly begun to pull away.

he felt tears rise up and he blinked them away furiously.

from the corner of his eye, he saw his mother approach him.

"salut maman" he smiled, kissing her cheeks.

"charles, pourquoi as-tu l'air si triste?" charles why do you look so sad?

"je ne sais pas maman, je... elle me manque tellement" i don't know mum, i... i miss her so much.

"mon fils, tu sais, je sais, nous savons tous que tu aimes y/n. pourquoi tu ne lui dis pas chérie ? elle t'aime tellement aussi et ça me fait mal au cœur que deux personnes destinées l'une à l'autre ne soient pas ensemble." my son, you know, i know,we all have known that you love y/n. why dont you tell her darling? she loves you so much too and it hurts my heart that two people destined for each other aren't together.

"mais... et si elle ne m'aime pas, maman ? je ne veux pas ruiner notre amitié et je ne veux pas la perdre. et c'est égoïste, mais je ne veux pas être blessé" but.. what if she doesnt love me back mum? i domt wamt to ruin our friendship and i dont want to lose her. and its selfish, but i dont want to be hurt..

"charles, l'amour est une douleur. dire à quelqu'un dont vous ne savez pas qu'il vous aime, que vous l'aimez est terrifiant, mais c'est ça l'amour. mais tu ne peux pas laisser cette peur t’arrêter. ne manquez pas votre chance de trouver le véritable amour. souviens-toi de mon fils, un amour comme celui-ci n'arrive qu'une fois dans la vie" charles, love is pain. telling someone you don't know loves you, that you love them is terrifying, but thats what love is. but you cant let that fear stop you. dont miss your chance at true love. remember my son, a love like this comes only once in a lifetime.

"je le ferai maman. merci" i will mum. thank you.

pascale pressed a kiss to her middle son's forehead, and left him to his thoughts. she knew he had a lot to think about.

charles knew he had a lot to think about too. he knew he had to tell you that he loved you, because damn it, you were his sun moon and stars and he would be damned if he let you go.

he smiled, a plan forming in his mind. he called carla and arthur, knowing you had a soft spot for the two of them.

"les gars, j'ai besoin de votre aide" he said.

"how can we help charles?" carla asked, smiling at him.

"i want to tell y/n that i love her"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n - part ii finished!!! i hope you guys liked it 🩷🫶🏼 comments, feedback, opinions, reblogs are always appreciated! my comments and inbox and are always open so feel free to drop in any time!!

part iii should be up soon too!!

TAGS

those who responded to part i - @chanshintien @eternalharry @janeholt3 @magicalcowboyarbiter @oneafterdark @leclerc13

f1 tags - @theonly1outof-a-billion

all writing - @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird

TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST SEND ME AN ASK OR A DM 🩷

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subbmissivesuccubus · 8 months

Note

what would enmu think if his master ends up being interested in his darling?

i think enmu would be torn between his loyalty and his love for reader

I actually think it will be the opposite hehehe Enmu gives me huge cuck vibes and would be totally ok with his Master fucking his partner.

Enmu is so dedicated to Muzan that the fact that his Master is interested in his woman makes him super happy. If Lord Muzan is interested in you, it means that Enmu has somehow found the perfect woman and, even more miraculous, that perfect woman had fallen for him.

You were a demon and just as enamored with Lord Muzan as all demons were- as all demons had to be- and you could hardly believe it when you found out you were the object of Lord Muzan's desires. Being the king of demons, Muzan didn't feel the need to court you. You were already worshiping him at his feet, why not move a bit higher and worship his cock instead? He also didn't feel the need to ask for Enmu's permission- why would he? - but he didn't care if the lower demon wanted to watch. As long as he wasn't a bother.

One thing led to another and when Enmu gets cucked, seeing his beloved Master pound into his darling woman, the two of you enjoying each others bodies- he would die happy. It was almost like art seeing the two of you come together, Lord Muzan hardly romantic or intimate, but neither of you cared. He fucked you like a whore and you took it like a good little demon, making Enmu very proud.

If he gets to watch the way Muzan's splendid cock splits apart your pussy, the way his heavy balls clap against your skin, the way he marks your body up with his teeth, he'd consider it the highest honor. The way Muzan would suckle at your breasts, the moans he gets out of you that Enmu could never, the roughness in which he fucks you was nothing short of magnificent. Muzan choking you as he fucks you, pulling your hair, drawing blood as he bites you, slapping your face with his cock- all of it was simply stunning and you loved every second of it.

And if Enmu gets to fuck your face while his master breeds your pussy, he considers himself undeserving of such treatment. And if he gets to eat Muzan's cum out of your filled pussy, getting you to climax on his tongue while he tastes a mixture of the woman he loves and the man he has sworn loyalty to- how could he ever want anything more in life?

#subby writes #kimetsu no yaiba smut #demon slayer smut #muzan smut #muzan kibutsuji #kibutsuji kny #kibutsuji muzan smut #enmu #enmu smut #muzan kibutsuji smut

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carmillamycarmine · 4 months

Text

Carmilla Carmine x Fem Reader: Reader learning ballet from Carmilla. {1,976 words}

Request by: @coallise

Pas de Deux

Flames danced and twisted with fervor, echoing laughter resounded like a haunting melody, and the anguished cries of citizens pierced the air. It was almost theatrical. A daunting song.

Carmilla, with a solemn grace, closed her eyes and embraced the disheartening setting of her current existence. Once again. Carmilla turned from the window, her large hands folded behind her back. Within the esteemed estate, metallic thudding on hard stone could be heard throughout. The building was quiet, sheilding itself away from the torture outside.

The tall, elegant woman stepped through the dimly lit corridors, her laced feet taking her exactly where she wanted to go. The grand ballroom was cold, always surprisingly. Carmilla entered the room, watching the dark curtains rustle and do their flapper dance. Crimson hues of the moon's light filtered through intricate stained glass windows, casting prisms of light upon the meticulously polished marble floor. Within this splendid setting, an atmosphere of eagerness formed and the woman couldn't help but smile smally.

With a snap of her long fingers, musical notes floated through the air, filling it with new life. Carmilla inhaled deeply, feeling her cold heart thaw.

‘Pavane for a Dead Princess’ played out.

Long arms went into first position, and so did her feet, for once allowing herself to be off her toes, in more ways than one. And with that, Carmilla flowed effortlessly into choreography from her heart, letting the music control her. She was of a black swan gliding across a tranquil lake, her angelic ballet shoes and straps sparkling in the light like the shimmers of that swan lake.

Carmilla felt sane here. She felt closer to herself.

Without warning, a familiar scent of rose wafted into her nose, triggering an emotion within Carmilla's thawed state. The woman immediately paused her dance but did not stumble, never. White irises darted towards the entrance, landing on your beautiful figure before you quickly slipped away, hiding yourself away from Carmilla in the shadows.

“Corazón?”

The sound of the ballet woman's bubbling, velvet voice caused a wave of shivers to swim through your body, making you sigh.

“Ven acá.”

Obediently, you did go to her, revealing yourself truthfully.

“There's no need to hide. I won't bite.” Carmilla looked away from you, her eyebrows furrowing slightly with a thought.

You didn't respond.

“Were you needing me?” Her velvety voice asked.

“No, not really. I just…” You spoke as your footsteps got closer to her. “I heard music. Music plays through these halls only a few times… which, anyway, is usually when you're done with your work.”

You looked up into her white eyes, the red of Carmilla's scleras glowing and highlighting bits of her perfect face.

“I see,” the taller woman replied, her large hand going up to touch her chin in thought.

It was quiet for a moment between you two, though, the music of ballet still played on.

“Teach me.” You almost command it.

“What?”

“Teach me how to dance ballet,” you said more specifically. “Please,” you added quickly.

Carmilla observed you for a moment, considering your request. As you stood before her, you swore you could see something shift within her gaze.

“Why?”

I suppose you should've expected that response. Your eyes immediately shifted away from hers, internally forcing yourself to not fluster. You chuckled suddenly, almost embarrassed.

“W-Why would anyone want to learn?” You ask, fiddling your thumbs before making quick eye contact again. “It's just.. so beautiful. You look… so beautiful.”

Carmilla's stoic face changed into one of surprise.

“I want to feel that way.”

The ballet woman's features softened, her heart tugging from the mix of your words.

"Very well," she agreed, extending her big hand towards you. "Come, let us not waste our time.”

With graceful movements, she guided you to the center of the ballroom, positioning you carefully. Her touch was soft, gentle, contrasting with the image of her imposing presence.

“First, we must find your balance," Carmilla instructed, using her hands to help her communicate. "Feel the ground beneath you, feel your feet, your heels build into the ground like the roots of a sturdy tree.”

You followed her guidance, focusing on your stance as she adjusted your posture with a gentle touch.

“Now, let the music guide you," she continued, snapping her fingers to restart to music from the speakers. "Feel its rhythm coursing through your veins, connecting you to every note, every beat, as if it's the song of your own beating blood.”

As the bittersweet melody rewinds and envelopes the room once again, you tentatively begin to move, slightly mimicking Carmilla's steps you saw earlier to guide you. At first, it felt awkward and unfamiliar, but with each passing moment, you surrendered yourself to the music, allowing it to carry you, though, you still felt awkward all the same.

Feeling the music, you forget about your stiffness and focus on just allowing the music to take control, hoping it'll relax your body.

“The song of your own heart, corazón, not mine.”

You couldn't help but huff a bit, knowing Carmilla wanted you to produce your own dance, not blatantly copying. Following Carmilla's instructions, your movements felt uncertain. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't quite capture the fluid grace that seemed to come so naturally to her. And then, just as you feared, you slipped, your calves not used to holding up all your weight from your toes.

Before you knew it, a long, strong arm snaked around your waist as your hand was pulled by another, forcing your tumbling body into an upright position and being pulled into a firm, warm embrace. Carmilla held you steady, and without missing a beat, the woman smoothly transitioned into a pas de deux, pulling you close and along as if it were the most natural thing in the world. In her embrace, you felt a sense of security and belonging, almost a sense of awe, as if for this moment, the chaos of hell outside faded away, leaving only the two of you to burn like hot flames, dancing flames, swirling and flickering in untamed perfect harmony.

You stumbled at first, trying to keep up with Carmilla's practiced steps, but she guided you with patience and grace, leading you through the intricate movements with ease. As you danced together, you felt a connection deeping between you two, a silent understanding that transcended words; a passionate inferno.

Carmilla moved you through each step with a confidence that stirred the progressively boiling pot within you. As you looked up into her glowing eyes, you saw a flicker of emotion that mirrored your own desire, a silent longing that spoke volumes without even a single word being spoken aloud. Every brush of skin against skin sent a shiver down your spine, turning up the flames beneath your pot.

As the music swelled, Carmilla's arms lifted you easily into the air, your body weightless to her. You felt the rush of adrenaline mixed with the desire for Carmilla herself, sending a surge of electricity coursing through your veins. Seeing the woman beneath you, looking up at you, was a sight to behold, the romanticized music and red moonlight tinting the marble floor only adding to the fantastical scene. You did everything in your power to not reach out and caress the beautiful face before you.

When the music reached its end, Carmilla gently lowered you back down onto the floor, carefully allowing you to steady yourself before letting go of you. You already missed her touch, missed her too, though she was right there in front of you.

You stood breathless. Was it from the dancing, or was it from Carmilla? Unfortunately, you already knew the answer to that. With a slight part of her lips, as if she wanted to express something, Carmilla brushed a stray hair from your face, her touch causing your heart to skip and pulse with speed.

"You dance beautifully," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Gazing into each other's eyes, in that moment, you knew what you had to say. Summoning all your courage, you took a closer step forward, your heart pounding in your chest as you closed your eyes a moment to cope. "Carmilla," you began, your voice trembling with emotion. "There's something I need to… want to.. tell you.”

“Yes?” was all the taller woman spoke.

Taking a deep breath, you shook your head and held your hands together in comfort. You gathered your thoughts, your heart desperately wanting release. "I... I…” You chuckled nervously, laughing at your own nerves. “Carmilla… I love you," you confessed, your voice a faint murmur. "I've never... felt this way.. about anyone before… so passionately about someone before. You're... you're just so perfect. You're everything to me.”

For a moment, there was silence, complete silence as the music finally cuts off with its ending. The atmosphere with anticipation, you fear the worst and quickly open your mouth to take back the words you announced. And then, skipping your heart once more, Carmilla reached out and placed her sueded hand delicately on your cheek, so delicate, she might as well not be touching you at all.

“And I love you, mi amor, mi corazón," she whispered, her voice filled with warmth and affection. "I have for far longer than I care to admit.”

You were stunned, in awe. How could she say something so easily? You stood there, barely able to comprehend Carmilla's confession. A twitchy smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

"You... you love me?" you repeated, the words feeling foreign yet undeniably sweet on your tongue.

“With my whole soul," the ballet woman replied, her voice steady and unwavering.

A scoff fell from your lips before evolving into full chuckles, the sound filled with a mix of sheer disbelief and happiness. "I can't… I can't believe this," you murmured, shaking your head in amazement. "I never thought... I never dared to even hope…” But as you looked on into Carmilla's white eyes, you knew that her words were real, that the love you felt for each other was genuine and true. For some reason, the confession smothered you, and you could almost pass out.

“Hell… I really do love you, my Carmilla.” you said, your voice filled with conviction and need. "More than I ever thought possible.”

Carmilla hummed deeply in delight at that. A full smile dressed her black painted lips, a rare and truly radiant expression that lit up her entire face. Boldly, Carmilla allowed her thumb to gently graze over your bottom lip.

"May I kiss you?" she asked, her bubbly, velvety voice putting you in a daze.

You nodded eagerly, your heart getting ready to burst in your chest as Carmilla leans in closer and closer, her lips hovering just inches away from yours. With a gentle brush of her lips against yours, the world seemed to explode into fireworks. Passion and desire bursting within, each popped spark igniting a fervent longing that enveloped you both in a whirlwind of ecstasy and enchantment.

Maybe it was just Charlie's, the princess of hell’s firework spell that she does at work.

Reluctantly pulling apart from the kiss, you smile up at Carmilla, and she smiles down at you, admiring you. You held each other close, savoring the moment and the overwhelming rush of emotions. In the quiet of the ballroom, surrounded by the gentle flapping of the curtains, you found heaven in each other's arms. With a contented sigh, Carmilla rested her head against your shoulder, her arms completely wrapped around you in a comforting hug. And as you stood there, basking in the warmth of her touch, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had each other, you could overcome anything… such as your insulting ballet skills.

#my writing #carmilla carmine #carmilla carmine x reader #carmilla x reader #hazbin carmilla #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel carmilla #writing

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sgiandubh · 2 months

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Product placement

After months of zero fangagement, there She comes, with a very classical product placement tutorial of sorts:

Not for the weak budgets, stans:

Or, if you want to go Pro, that's really eye-watering (40 days in Indochina, my style, no brainer what I pick):

Plus you have to buy refills of the Oxygen Mist and Glide every month, to make it really effective:

But it's magically good for many things, from scars to peau d'orange to crow's feet, you name it - they solve it.

Her crowd already started fawning, unaware of the price tag potential shock. I mean, let's compare with the totally iconic Andie MacDowell:

youtube

Mmmph:

Meanwhile, Peskov, Putin's main spokesperson, considers that Russia and NATO are now 'in direct confrontation'.

But sure, why not. And as always, people will fail to see the obvious fact that These Two steer their ship around the same waters (product placement, mild influencing).

Funny how we now have C the Influencer. Where did FMN gin go? Sag mir wo die Blumen sind, heh. Just an old favorite, don't pay attention to Marlene and me.

youtube

PS: she looks splendid, that being said.

#fandom #shitshow #Youtube

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libraryraccoon · 4 months

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A Traumatized Raccoon

For : @idkfitememate

Messages for them : It was supposed to be in a message but I thought this will be too long (guess i'm not an anon anymore-), I have create a past and give a trench coat to Raccoon Creator, I hope you don't mind. Gender : Raccoon Pronouns : they/them TW : Bad english, english isn't my first language. Wriothesley story quest spoiler.

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The fact that a prisoner in Meropide have a stone that can show your trauma and that he used it directly on other prisoners, making it enter in their brain when they aren’t listening him, were already bad, but now that the racoon of Metropides was touch by that ? That was horrible.

They were trying to stop Dougier, when he had the splendid idea of, with a syringe probably stolen from the infirmary, plant it in the head of the Raccoon of Meropide and inject in them the black liquid made from the rock of fears (name given by the raccoon.. Wriothesley doesn't know how they manages to write, poorly, but always writing, with their paws... He doesn't want to know).

And now, he have to take care of the Raccoon of Meropide, or Hellion (Wriothesley named them like that because that what they are, an hellion, and also because he was tired to always say "Raccoon ! No !" everytime they try to kill fight another prisoner), that is running away from everyone and seems having fear of every persons they sees..

…

Can a raccoon have trauma ?-

Wriothesley already know Hellion isn’t a normal raccoon, I mean, they are the first raccoon criminals and they have stoled the Mécanique D’Analyse Cardinale.. But does that mean they have trauma too ?

…

Wriothesley can already feel the headache of all of that..

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They were running.

They have to run.

It was all red, all was burning, the houses were burning.. They don’t know where they go, but they have to leave that place, leave Khaenri’ah-

This place the Raccoon Creator have love, the place they lived, was burning, destroyed by the Archons and Celestia.

Raccoon Creator hate them. They hate humans, Celestia, Archons.. And every living creatures that exist. They hate what they have done to them, to their family.

It was supposed to be a normal day, Raccoon Creator going to annoyed RhineDottir, playing with the kids… Not this.

They never wanted Khaenri’ah to be destroy. They never wanted all that people, all that kids, to die.

‘A creator, huh..’ think the Raccoon, looking at the corpse of one of the kids they used to play with, the same that made them their little trench coat. ‘More like a failure.. I can’t even protect those I love.’

All the Creator can do was running, running away from this chaos.

But then, they were in front of boots. They look at the person, praying for not being kill, when they realized that it was-

“Wriothesley ?” ask the Raccoon, all that came out was a raccoon sound.

Yeah, that’s right. They are at Meropide. With Wriothesley. The chaos was finish. Khaenri’ah was destroyed. Some of them were alived. They were alived.

And The Mécanique D’Analyse Cardinale ! Think the Raccoon Creator. They can’t stay here ! They have to destroy it, to kill Foçalor, like that they will have avenge the members of their people killed by the Archon Hydro.

“-ey, Hellion, you’re with me ?” ask Wriothesley, making the Raccoon focused on him.

‘What’s that look ?’ ask mentally the Raccoon, looking at Wriothesley that seemed tired, exhausted and worried.

‘Worried.. They never saw him worried about anything. That doesn’t feet him well.’ Decided the Raccoon Creator.

“What’s wrong ?” ask the raccoon, even if all that came out was raccoon sounds, Wriothesley seemed to understand.

“Nothing bad. We just have to go to my office.” Said the human, taking the raccoon in his arms.

-----------

Hellion was tense in his arms, thing, Wriothesley thought, normal given that the latter hated being touched by humans, or even Melusines.

Wriothesley thought that maybe have something with their path..

He’s not used to the fact that a raccoon have a path and is traumatized. But again, they aren’t a normal raccoon.

Wriothesley walked to his office, glancing at the raccoon only to see blood leaking from their wound, golden blood.

The same as the creator.

Something that didn't make sense because the creator was supposed to be the Otter who stays with Neuvillette and Furina..

Does that mean there is two creators ?

And, more importantly, does that mean that creator have a bad past with humans and melusines ? A bad past with their own creations ?

Wriothesley want, no, he need answer. But before, he have to take care of Hellion- no, the creator.

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

Little drawing of Raccoon!Creator running away from Khaenri'ah but I can't draw :

I wanted to make Wriothesley realized the raccoon is a creator that was traumatized by their own creations, and after I remembered I can't write good angst.

3 little hc of Raccoon!Creator (bc I'm bored) : -Raccoon Creator used to love caresses and good attention, but after Khaenri'ah's trauma, they start to hate it. -Raccoon Creator let no one touch their trench coat, and every time the trench coat is a little unstitched, they put it back together because they don't want to change it, even if it's worn, because it's the last thing they have from Khaenri'ah. And they wear it always, never put it away. -The Raccoon!Creator hate being call a creator because of Khaenri'ah (They will fight every person who call them like that).

#🦝anon #Am I really still an anon now ?-#genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x gn reader #gift #One shot #Raccoon creator don't belong to me #Raccoon!creator is an hellion and I will die on that hill

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tremendum · 15 days

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Me and the Devil; iv

(not my gif)

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previous next series masterlist

word count: 9.5k i think

summary: "We've always known what the Harkonnens are. And yet, they sent me, happily, to marry the devil. To become one."

warnings: canon-typical violence, blood, incorrect lore probably, brief allusion to blood kink (blink and you miss it), reader has some mommy issues and also some daddy issues, reader is also a bit of a diva buttttt thats ok shes grieving, height difference mention (Paul is taller than reader).

notes: back with chapter four! Thanks so much again you guys for all of the feedback, it's so so appreciated. I'm happy you're liking it!! this is very unedited. lmk what you think :)

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My Dear Niece,

I hope this message finds you in good health and spirits, despite the trying times you have endured. It has been far too long since we last spoke, and I have often found myself thinking of you and wondering how you are faring - but I am hopeful that Caladan will be more forgiving with message deliveries.

First and foremost, allow me to offer my condolences. I cannot begin to imagine the pain and sorrow you must have experienced in the wake of the tragedy that befell your family at the hands of those beasts. To have been thrust into the midst of such turmoil and danger, surrounded by those who brought about such devastation, must have been unimaginably difficult.

I write to you also with a sincere and heartfelt congratulations on your recent betrothal to Paul Atreides. While I understand that this union may have come as a surprise, I have every confidence that you will make a splendid bride and wife. Duke Leto is a noble and honorable man, and I have no doubt that his son is the very same. I know that he will cherish and protect you with all his heart.

Please know that you are not alone in your sorrow, my dear niece. Though distance may separate us, if ever you feel the need for comfort or companionship, know that our home is always open to you. You are welcome to visit whenever you please, and I would be honored to meet your new husband and welcome him into our family.

In the meantime, I hope this message finds you well and brings some small measure of comfort to your troubled heart. You are a strong and resilient woman, my dear, and I have every confidence that you will emerge from this darkness stronger than ever before.

With all my love and affection,

Lady Ginaz

- Message sent to Lady Bourbon from the Lady Ginaz. 10191. Caladan.

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For the second time in his life, Paul is roused by his mother in the dead of the night.

When she insists he follow her, she wears a similarly grave face to the first time - spooked, uneasy. He was not given the grace to even find shoes this time before she grasped his bicep, pulling him along to her own quarters and through a hallway lit only by the full moon outside; Too tired to protest and still yawning at the curling tendrils of slumber, he drags his bare feet along the stone floor. Still blinking sleep from his eyes, a sense of dread fills him when he crosses into the dimly lit chamber at the end of the hall; an ornate chair placed in the center, and on sitting atop it is the imposing figure of the Reverend Mother.

Paul's heart clenches; his eyes are alert immediately.

Their previous encounter; searing pain, the Gom Jabbar - a test of his humanity. He struggles to conceal the rage that simmers beneath the surface, a bitter reminder of what he'd endured - and for no reason.

He should never have told his mother about the dreams.

Already knowing, but needing the affirmation, he clenches his jaw. "What's this?" He turns to ask his mother, whose stare is icy and less fearful than it was those years before. She doesn't respond, only nudges him forward, towards the woman in the center of the room.

As the Reverend Mother's piercing gaze meets his own, Paul squares his shoulders, steeling himself for what is to come; He'll have to tread carefully, lest he betray the depth of his emotions - or the truth about his dreams.

The Reverend Mother speaks, her voice a low, commanding tone that fills the room. "Tell me of your dreams, Paul Atreides," her eyes bore into his own. Paul hesitates for a moment, glaring to his mother- Lady Jessica nods subtly, her expression urging him to speak the truth; Anger courses through him, but he knows there is no choice for him now.

Summoning his courage, Paul begins to recount the vivid images that have haunted his nights.

Leaving out the details he suspects are less...important, he instead focuses on the more foreboding parts; The eerie familiarity of the clearing, the ceremonial sheet spread like a shroud. Ash falling from the sky, the missile streaks in the sky and the burning of the large pine; a shiver runs down his spine - the visions feel like a portent of doom, and it brings him to a hushed quiet.

"I've tried to make sense of them," His voice comes out just as frustrated as he feels, "But they're elusive. Fragmented. She's always there."

It seems he doesn't have to elaborate on who he's talking about - the woman's eyes flash before him from under her thick veil. She says nothing, but a sharp glance from his mother makes him clear his throat, confessing the dream his mother had woke him from not minutes ago.

"And in the last dream," Paul's jaw tightens, the memory of the vision burning bright in his mind, "I saw someone... stabbing me," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. "A black-hilted knife, with an engraved blade."

The words hang heavy in the air, sending a ripple of unease through the chamber. Paul can feel the weight of the Reverend Mother's scrutiny, her eyes boring into his soul as if searching for the truth buried within. He's not sure if his mother is making the connection; you've brought that knife with you nearly everywhere since you got it back. To him, it's inevitable.

The Reverend Mother's expression is unreadable as she absorbs his words. Paul braces himself for her response, knowing that what he's revealed may have far-reaching consequences; He cannot afford to hide the visions that plague his mind—not if what you said about Sabberon is true. The Reverend Mother regards him with a penetrating stare. "Interesting," she murmurs. "Your dreams hold great significance, Paul Atreides."

Paul's frustration boils to the surface as he listens to the Reverend Mother's cryptic response; He knows what she is capable of, he knows how powerful the Bene Gesserit are in the galaxy - yet his resentment grows and boils within him. Resisting a snarl, he glares sharply, trying to quell the anger, confusion.

"Significance?" Paul retorts, his voice laced with bitterness. "I will not be a pawn in your schemes," he declares, his voice ringing with conviction. "I am the heir to House Atreides. I will not allow my fate to be dictated by prophecy or visions."

His words echo in the chamber; Lady Jessica places a sharp hand on his shoulder, her sharp inhale bristling the hair on Paul's neck.

"Silence."

Whatever words of anger he was about to say halt on his tongue. Prickles of anger wash over him when he comes out of the quick haze; she dares use the Voice on him, yet again.

Her voice is harsh when it comes, eyes sharp as tiny beads behind the black of her dressing. "You are the heir to a great legacy, but with that inheritance comes duty. Tread carefully, Paul Atreides. The choices you make will shape the fate of many." These words are extremely discomforting; Once again he is filled with the spoilt disdain of their fanatic manipulations.

The Reverend Mother continues, her gaze steady and unwavering. "You possess a strength within you, a strength born of both blood and spirit; but true strength lies not in the wielding of power, but in the mastery of oneself. Trust in your instincts, but do not let them blind you."

He refuses to speak.

His mother is fearful behind him; he can feel it radiating off of her, and it fills him with even more indignation. His eyes pierce through her veil, waiting for her to finish. "You may go." She dismisses, and he has no problem turning heel, walking briskly to the door.

"Not you, Jessica."

Jaw clenching at the tone of disrespect the woman uses towards his mother, he almost turns around; but somewhere in his mind is a hazy insistence from his mother- urging him to leave them. He does, lingering to listen to the hushed whispers behind the closed door for only a moment.

"-with the girl, too.You must ensure they go down the right path."

He doesn't bother to stay and hear the rest of it.

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The clashing of blades chimes in your ears with surprise when you arrive for training in the late morning.

It's more common than not to find Duncan sitting, cleaning blades or stretching when you arrive for lessons, but today, it seems he and Paul are thoroughly engrossed in sparring and don't notice when you enter.

They move with that dance-like rhythm you grew up learning; one then the other - legs lunging, arms parrying and striking. They circle each other with cautious precision; Paul's movements are fluid and graceful, calculated - his proficiency comes as somewhat of a shock to you. With such a lithe, deft body, you'd assumed him little match for someone like Duncan. Perhaps, in your own vain perception, you'd expected him to have been meagerly gifted in the art of fighting, having been so well-endowed in the areas of strategy, politics, governance. Of course, you sigh. He's grown up here on Caladan - a Duke's son, trained to become a fair and mighty ruler one day. You suppose you shouldn't be so surprised, he's trained for it all his whole life.

You're sourly impressed as Paul matches him blow for blow, cheeks dusted with pink, barely a glean of sweat across his furrowed brow. A strike against Duncan hits unblocked; The older man, in turn, lets out a huff of laughter - pride flickers in his eyes as he watches Paul strike again.

It turns your blood to acid as you lean against the doorframe; waiting is becoming quite a drag. Duncan, watching Paul as if he were his own son; anger bites at your heels, pushing down the resentment you harbor. He couldn't have done anything when you were sent to Giedi Prime; rationally, you understand that, but the bitterness lingers, a reminder of the betrayal you felt at being abandoned to your fate years ago. There was a time years ago where you would spar with him like this in the weapons arena on Sabberon during the Harvest season- leaves falling red and yellow from their branches, the smell of roast and cider rising into the air.

Duncan's blade presses to Paul's side in a sudden move. Grunting, Paul can't seem to parry, and the blade is moments away from penetrating the shield and breaking through; God forbid he hurts that precious porcelain skin, You think. Briefly, as you watch the shield flicker red, you wonder how dark Paul's blood would flow. Feyd-Rautha's blood was so dark it was nearly black - a crimson color when it smeared across his skin; a tangy, sharp metallic taste when he'd pressed his bloodied fingers to your lips. You blink your eyes hard, pressing away the urge with a furrowed brow.

Your patience is gone, but luckily, Duncan seems to notice you first.

A spare glance in your direction as you linger in the entryway and he's fumbling - Paul takes the moment to strike, knocking Duncan to the ground with his blade pressed against his throat. Your brows raise.

With a wipe of sweat from his brow, Duncan's eyes skirt to the clock and he huffs, "Sorry, we must've lost track of the time." He mutters, taking Paul's extended hand. Paul nods at you in greeting; you nod back just as terse, ignoring the shocked look on Duncan's face at your appearance.

"It's fine. I believe I'm early." You reason, turning to walk towards the mat, avoiding eye contact. You can feel Duncan's stare on you; since you refused the veil from Hestia this morning, each person has looked at you the same - surprise, intrigue. You have to resist a snarl.

Paul, whose eyes flick to you then towards the weapons table, seems to be the only person this morning who hasn't stared at you as if you'd grown another head - but you're not fooled by his capacity to regard you simply as yourself this morning. Yesterday, he promised to never disrespect you; you suppose in turn, you will never disrespect him. That much will be given. But respecting someone is not the same as enjoying someone's company, and a moment of camaraderie is just a moment of weakness; You know he doesn't want this as much as you don't, but you will have to use this marriage as leverage if you ever want to make sure the Harkonnens stay off of Sabberon. And that means building trust.

Paul looks at you from the corner of his eyes for a moment before beginning to disinfect the blade he'd been using; Reaching to hold it out for you to take, you decline the offer.

Instead, your hand finds the hilt of your own blade, "No, thank you. I prefer to use my own."

Paul's eyes catch and linger on the blade; He blinks those long lashes a few times, as if deep in thought, before nodding. "Of course." He says, voice quiet as he turns. Duncan watches with disinterest, sipping on a cup of water as Paul brushes past you, giving you a tight-lipped, emotionless smile.

It's not until he's gone that you turn your stare to Duncan Idaho.

"He fights like you," You observe, beginning to stretch; if it's instigative, let it be.

Duncan's brow raises, "That's a good thing." He retorts, running a finger over the blade Paul had set down. You roll your eyes, concealing it by unsheathing your blade to begin sharpening it.

You can feel his stare. you know Duncan - he's not going to come out and say it, given how you've received his presence since arriving on Caladan; Instead, you beat him to it, turning to meet his eyes. "Did you expect me to be bald under the veil?" You ask, lifting a brow, "I lived there long enough, didn't I?"

He holds his hands up defensively, "I didn't say anything." He's right; you're acting up. Acting out. Probably both. You send him a look, "You didn't have to." You feel a defensive streak kick in yourself, considering what you'd learned about your own heritage by Paul yesterday. You'd been embarrassed in front of him - not knowing your own House's marriage traditions, or even the correct mourning phases? You looked like a fool.

He shakes his head. "You just... you've gotten older. You look like your mother." A pain that you've been holding down surfaces, striking you in the small gap your wall had built around your heart; guilt of survival, anger at your mother and all she'd done, everything shatters. You glare, throwing your knife onto the table in front of you.

"Don't speak to me of any of them, Duncan Idaho." You snap, eyes burning with emotion. "I was never prepared to be the last Bourbon alive, but now there's nobody left to witness my traditions being broken but myself." You say coldly, "I'm done with the veils and the gowns; I'm barely a Bourbon at all anymore. I didn't even know there were traditions until my betrothed informed me of them." Your voice is venomous; You can tell Duncan is preparing himself for a fight of words and not blades as he walks towards you.

"You've always been a fighter, my lady," Duncan chooses, his tone filled with respect; you can't help but hear the voice of someone who is approaching a cornered hound. "But you don't have to face it all alone."

Astounded, you almost laugh. "Really?" You snap, "Then where were you?"

You knew it would boil over at some point; By the look on his face, he knew it too.

Hands shaking, you take a shaky breath, "I was there with them - with him - for four years. Four years." You say, heart thundering, "Not one single fucking check-in, no visit, nothing. Nobody batted an eye when my messages stopped delivering, when there was never a wedding?"

You're not finished; the floodgates open, you're at your own mercy to stop and you can't help but continue. "-They had to have known what kind of monsters they'd shipped me off to, right? We were allies with the Atreides for centuries; we've always known what the Harkonnens are."

You laugh mirthlessly, "And yet, they sent me, happily, to marry the devil. To become one." You're breathing hard, hands shaking - the room feels hot and you can't seem to catch your breath. "-And I know, Duncan. I know that your hands were tied." You sigh, pressing your hands to your cheeks to soothe the heat. Thankfully, no tears fall. "I don't blame you, really, but- you're the only person left to be angry towards." Your voice cracks as you look down, shame burning on your face.

Duncan's expression softens, his gaze filled with regret and remorse. "I'm sorry for everything you lost, my lady." he says, his voice heavy; You resist the urge to pull him into an embrace, to feel the warmth of someone else and feel safe for the first time in so long. Instead you stand, barren and alone, in the middle of the floor.

"I should have been there for you - they should have, too."

It strikes a bout of guilt in you to make him admit something so ugly when you know he is grieving their loss just as you are. "They should have done something to help you. It's okay to still be angry with them, what they did to you, even if you're mourning them."

His words cut through the haze of anger and pain and you're stuck with an exhaustion - one that comes from the years of neglect and abandonment. You look down at the ground; perhaps it won't hurt to have someone on your side, someone you trust. It's been a dangerous and lonely several years, and you're tired of always trying to watch your own back. Clearing your throat, you nod. "I'm sorry, Duncan." You utter, looking up at him squarely. "I shouldn't have treated you coldly. I haven't been taking this change well at all." You confess.

He gives you a look, shaking his head, "There is nothing for you to apologize for, Little Bourbon." At the shadow of a smile on your face, he grins; He's always known what will cheer you up - tossing you your blade from where it sat on the table, he squares himself. You catch it deftly, rolling your neck and squaring yourself, thankful for the end of such a vulnerable moment.

The sound of footsteps disrupts you. You crane your neck behind you; A soldier walks through the room, but instead of addressing Duncan after bowing to you, he speaks to you.

"My lady." He starts. You raise a brow in question. "The Lady Jessica wishes to speak with you over lunch in her quarters now, if you have a moment."

You grit your teeth, a shot of uncertainty flooding you. You've yet to dine with her on your own yet - something about her sets you on edge, and you'd really prefer to spar to take your mind off of everything.

But you know better than to refuse the lady of the house's wishes.

"And spoil my fun here?" You ask, voice dry. "Alright."

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Lunch is barely picked at before Lady Jessica brings it up.

When she speaks, your eyes meet hers - less stony than usual, she regards you with an interest in her eyes that you've yet to see before. "You were once on the path of the Bene Gesserit," Lady Jessica starts, her voice tinged with empathy; You try to hide the set of your jaw, looking away briefly.

"Circumstances may have led you away, but your training has not been forgotten." She adds. You suspected this would be one of the reasons she called you in. "Yes, my lady," You affirm, setting down your fork; you send her a tight-lipped smile. "I trained when I was younger."

She nods, "Have you considered continuing this path? Honing your skills once more—to strengthen your voice, your intuition, your presence."

You take the moment she gives you to consider it; of course, you've thought of it now and then. But you have, to put it lightly, a very conflicted past with the Sisterhood, one that you prefer not to relive; Your mother's stern visage, relentless training regimens appear in your mind. Countless hours in rigorous physical and mental exercises - pressure to conform to their strict teachings weighing too heavily upon you and all three of your sisters' shoulders.

There's a part of you that can't help the twinge of curiosity that sparks through you; The allure of such an ancient order, unlocking hidden potential, the possibility of power and mastery of certain skills. It sounds glamorous, but you know better- you saw what kind of mistrust it sewed in your own house; The crack between your father and his court on behalf of your mother and the sisterhood, the loss of thousands of years of tradition.

Your lips open, and they feel suddenly very chapped. "I'm... not sure, my lady." You say honestly, blinking down at the unappetizing food below you.

"I understand your hesitations," she continues, voice earnest, "but given the current circumstances, it may be wise to strengthen all of your skills, including those you learned with the Bene Gesserit. It's imperative to ere on the side of caution."

"Circumstances?" You parrot, tilting your head. You know what she's implying; it doesn't ease the suspicion that rises, the feeling that the strings which tie themselves to Lady Jessica's limbs and lips are being pulled from much higher above your head; high enough to have actual, galactic implications. It is keenly upsetting.

"Yes, my dear." She begins, taking a sip of water, back straight; she doesn't bother to elaborate for you, and a tinge of irritation courses through you. "Tell me," She says, stirring the tea in front of her, "Even after your time with the sisterhood, did you ever experience visions? Dreams that stayed with you long after you woke?"

Your throat dries so quick you almost cough. Cheeks heating up, your eyes lock with hers; so it was a look of importance at the strategy council yesterday. It seems Lady Jessica has been keeping close tabs on you, after all. You hope she cannot read your mind thoroughly, for she would likely not enjoy what your dreams entail.

"You seem to already know my answer." You say, voice chilly in the warm room. Lady Jessica's lips press together. "Indeed," she affirms; gentle, yet probing. "But I need to hear it from you."

You pause, grappling with the memories that surge forth at Lady Jessica's inquiry; The dreams, the visions—they haunt you, asleep or awake - and despite your reluctance to acknowledge them, they have persisted, lingering like a shadow upon your consciousness. Swallowing against the dryness of your throat, you gather your thoughts before speaking.

"Yes," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I have."

Lady Jessica nods. "I suspected as much," she murmurs, her eyes reflecting a depth that is distinctly familiar. "These dreams may hold greater significance than you realize, dear. They may be the key to understanding the path that lies before you."

Her words hang in the air, pregnant with meaning and yet still exasperatingly cryptic; You are, in your silence, forced to acknowledge for the first times that these dreams - they are a calling, a beckoning towards something that you cannot ignore. You feel the soreness of your jaw and will your teeth to unclench.

Lady Jessica continues, murmuring your name firmly, "I urge you to consider resuming your training with the Bene Gesserit. Not out of obligation, but out of necessity. In times of uncertainty, it is essential to be prepared."

You meet Lady Jessica's gaze; despite your reservations, despite the ghosts of the past, you know that finding your studies again might be effective; the potential you will have with the skills and power of the Bene Gesserit are undeniable, but the pause you feel is very strong. There is something bizarre about the timing, about the whole interaction. To use raw power is to make yourself infinitely vulnerable to greater powers, you remember your mother saying years ago.

With a nod of affirmation, you square your shoulders. "I will consider it, my lady," you respond, meeting her gaze, "Thank you for your guidance."

Lady Jessica offers you a reassuring smile, one which does little to quell the raging in your stomach.

"You're stronger than you realize, my lady."

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It is past dark when Paul finally exits his mother's quarters.

Exhausted and overwhelmed, he lets his feet drag across the floor on his way back, thinking quite fondly of his bed and pillow, of the warmth of his sheets.

His stomach growls - his normally ravenous appetite has eluded him all day since this morning; The visit from the Reverend Mother earlier in the day had left him teetering on the edge. Admittedly, she is as commanding as she is disfavored by Paul; yet it was his mother's reaction that troubles him the most.

The last few hours, sparring on knife skills, were spent tense; He, upon entering the room, had asked nearly immediately what the Reverend Mother had told her when he was dismissed earlier in the morning, yet she remained silent and instructed him not to question it. Whispering, quiet and serious: He would find out in due time.

Lost in thought, Paul quickens his pace, his footsteps echoing down the dimly lit hallway; The weight of dual weapons training today has set his muscles to ache and groan with each step, mind not too far behind body - the sooner he is in bed, the better.

But as he rounds a corner, Paul nearly hits someone - you, in fact.

Blinking in shock, for a moment your eyes meet; nothing happens. You've stepped back slightly, seemingly just as startled as he - you're just perfectly positioned in the hall that the dim lights reflect on your clothes and you look warm, comfortable; So unlike yourself in the daylight.

"Apologies, my lady," Paul offers, his voice tight with tension as he inclines his head in a respectful nod, gaze flickering down the hall you both seemingly planned on walking down. Truthfully, he is not in the mood to speak to anyone, in particular you after the uneasy sight of your knife, hilt catching the reflection of the lights beside you.

You return the gesture, expression signaturely guarded as you mutter, "No harm done, my lord."

He clears his throat; Though your hair looks nice and your skin healthy, you look quite tired - he's not sure when he'll get used to seeing your face.

"I was just heading-" He gestures down the hall, and you nod stiffly, "So was I."

And so you fall into stride alongside him, watching the walls pass as you both take a slower pace than either of you would likely prefer. Perhaps, in an ordinary world, he would feel giddy to walk his prospective wife to her quarters after a long day; but this world is not ordinary, and he's still getting used to treating you as less as a threat and more of an ally.

A large window passes on his right, illuminating your figure in silvery light before hushing you back into the shadows again. He wonders what the moons are like on Sabberon.

He doesn't expect you to speak; in fact, he himself has no plans to. Yet after a few minutes your voice comes hesitantly and with the tranquility of a sleeping cat.

"I had lunch with your mother today."

Alarm bells sound in his head; He certainly did not expect that. When he turns to look at you, he finds you already staring up at him; perhaps you're gaging his reaction to this information - he doesn't try hard to hide his displeasure.

"What did she tell you?" He asks before he can stop himself.

You give him an inquisitive look, lifting a brow. "Why do you assume she had things to tell?" You rebut. His shoulders relax ever so slightly as he sighs, slowing his pace as you near his door.

He doesn't respond, yet something in his features must convince you to start again, to be less facetious in your words; You set your jaw as you look away and back to him.

"She wants me to take up Bene Gesserit training again." You say, eyes narrow as you gaze at him - cold, scrutinizing - perhaps to once again see his reaction. His nostrils flare; This must be what the Reverend Mother instructed his mother to do - to ensure you are going down the right paths. Why though, he is still unsure.

"She asked about your dreams, didn't she?" He asks; this time, it's Paul who watches your face for a reaction - and he gets one. Your eyes blink in shock as you nod stiffly. "Yes, she- how do you know this?" You ask, hand grabbing his elbow as you both slow to a stop.

There's a bout of silence, in which he debates nearly everything; muscles aching, he wishes to just go to sleep - but your eyes hold an alarm in them that makes him hesitate.

Opening his mouth to speak, Paul stares down at you; If what the Reverend Mother was saying is true, then you might truly be as dangerous as he'd thought. But he knows what their order is like - all in the way of maintaining power. A faint echo down the hall of someone makes his eyes snap away from your heavy stare; Perhaps the hallway is not an appropriate place for such a conversation. "We shouldn't be speaking of this here," He glances at you, "Would you come in?" He asks. He opens the door that leads to his quarters. You stare at him for a moment, as if surprised - but with a glance around, it seems you decide the coast is clear, and you slip in past where he holds to door ajar with his arm.

You walk less assured than usual in the unfamiliar territory; he knows you've been active in your time here in the castle, but this is certainly one part of the fort you have not yet seen. A guiding hand presses your back as he quickens his pace, hoping to get this over with swiftly as he leads you to his bed chamber; though your back tenses, you do not push him away.

You repose on the chair but Paul is restless, standing in front of your expectant gaze.

"Paul," You start, leaning forward; It's with a startle that he registers your use of his first name - a tone which provides no warmth but a hint of anxiety as you look up at him. "If we are to do this together, we need to build trust." You start, and he knows you're right. This - marriage, ruling Caladan, representing the House Atreides - and whatever else is to come.

"Just tell me. How concerned do I need to be?" You ask; this was not what he'd thought you would say, and it takes him a second to think of anything to respond with. The truth is a thousand pieces scattered through dust and sand, and he cannot stop slipping through it.

"I don't know." He says, candor dripping through his exasperation. "I was visited by the Reverend Mother this morning." He admits, relief finding his shoulders. If you are to be by his side in the upcoming months, you'll surely learn of all of this sooner or later; It's better to come from him than elsewhere.

Your face darkens slightly at the mention and you raise a brow.

"What did she want with you?" You ask.

"I've been having dreams." He admits to yet another person he'd rather not; "Dreams about... Sabberon. In them, I feel like..." He exhales, "I feel like I have to go there. I'm meant to." He finishes, not wishing to delve any further into what the dreams entail. You look completely shocked, though; ghostly, uneasy.

He has no answers and so instead he tells you most of what he knows; Your expression turns more grim as he continues, describing his interaction with the Reverend Mother that morning. Your eyes flick to his in shock when he mentions the previous meeting with her years prior.

"The Gom Jabbar?" You say suddenly, sitting up straighter. He nods, "Yes. It was a test-"

"-No, I know what it is. I also received it." you swallow, brows furrowing. "But I don't understand why she would give it to you."

A deep, pregnant pause in the room, where Paul debates what he's about to say. Knowledge is a weapon and a burden.

"My mother has trained me in the ways of the Bene Gesserit too."

Your face morphs for only a moment as you stare at him in disbelief. Schooling yourself, you're quieted by this revelation; Paul waits patiently for you to respond. You gather your thoughts within a few moments.

"She warned me," You say, eyes swimming through his; he feels scrutinized under your intense stare. "She said that continuing as Bene Gesserit is not out of obligation but necessity." You add, "That continuing is the key to understanding the path that lies before me. That dreams could have more meaning than we think."

His stomach drops that the phrasing. You must ensure they go down the right path. That manipulative crone; playing you, his mother, and him all as she wants for the benefit of her sisterhood. Fury boils within him, but he knows what you need is an explanation. "There's a prophecy that my mother mentioned to my father once. I was young, eavesdropping-" He shakes off the sly look you give him at this, his cheeks heating up, "- and I didn't hear all of it, but I heard parts."

He's not sure how else to piece it together than to just tell you everything he's thinking. "When the Reverend Mother administered the Gom Jabbar, she told my mother there would be two candidates for something. That I may be one of them. Today, she told me to trust my dreams, that they may be the key to unlocking something important. Which is... troubling."

The bitter laugh you let out surprises him, and he lowers himself to sit on the chaise longue beside yours. "Troubling." You mutter, shaking your head. It's the exact thing Lady Jessica implied with you.

"I'm not sure if it means anything," Your tone suggests otherwise, "but I have also been having dreams about Sabberon." You admit - his eyes snake to yours, hands clenched together; stomach dropping, dread fills him. He worried this, too; having the same dreams, however alike or different they may be, are foreboding.

"-On a mountain I do not recognize. My house has a sacred Pine, you know? It represents the Harvest. I dream that I'm there... with you." You let out a sigh, and Paul swears he hears it shake. "I haven't told anybody, not even your mother." Your eyes are sharp - fearful, he realizes.

For a beat, he feels less alone. Another soul, trapped in this web of visions and politics and power; He's sympathizing with you, a foreign and unexpected emotion. Paul is starting to nurse a sharp headache; closing his eyes, he exhales and nods, "You're there in my dreams, too." He admits.

The two of you sit, then; Paul, slumped with consternation and you, back rigid with stress.

A moment of silence in which Paul is overthinking and you likely are too.

"Do you trust her?" You ask; A foolish thing to ask one of one's mother - yet his hesitation shocks not just you, but himself as well.

He starts hesitantly. "I believe that she loves me and my father, and by extension, she cares for you." He is well-aware of the vagueness behind his words. He licks his lips, "I know that the sisterhood instructed her to have a daughter. But instead, for my father, she bore him a son. The Reverend Mother is still unhappy about it."

You stare, but you say nothing. Uneasy with the intensity of your attention, he plays with a spare thread poking from the chaise longue. "This morning, I overheard the Reverend Mother telling my mother to ensure we are on the right path. Both of us."

You, sharp as ever, nod thoughtfully, "Which is why she decided so abruptly to offer for me to train again."

He nods in affirmation, biting his lip; a bad stress habit, one he got from his father. Your voice is almost dreamy as it comes out, his eyes staring off at the small bull figurine that sits on his table. You ask, "How do we know which path is the right one?"

He laughs bitterly, shaking his head as he stares ahead. He has no clue. "I wish I had an answer," he admits, his voice tinged with frustration. "All we can do is trust our instincts, but even then, there are no guarantees. Not if we don't believe them."

You nod in understanding, a solemn but signature expression painting your features. "It's a heavy burden to bear," you remark softly, your voice echoing his sentiments; Heavy, yes. But you seem used to burdens. "All things are known because we want to believe in them." You say. He perks up, looking at you; That's something his mother has said during skills training training before - but in your voice, now, next to him - it sounds much different.

Weary and exhausted, Paul sighs. "Perhaps if I'd had a sister, this wouldn't be happening."

You snort softly from your nose, a gentle exhale that is becoming quite familiar to his ears. "I had three. They were a handful." You say, hugging yourself.

He hums. For a moment, he can almost picture it; You, ten years smaller, just a young teen - fighting in a snow field with three sisters, a little boy chasing after you. He almost hears your screams when your younger sister jumps into a half-frozen lake, the water green as emeralds against the white fields and evergreens in the distance. The laughter that leaves you as you plunge, dress and all, into the icy depths besides her and pull your sisters with you; Handmaids wearing furs and soldiers boasting roaring wolf armor run to fish you out. They almost feel real. "What was it like, growing up with siblings?" he asks, seeking to reciprocate the gesture of openness that you've surrendered in the dark.

Your demeanor shifts slightly, your guard momentarily lowering as you reflect on your upbringing. "It was...complicated," your voice is contemplative, small. "We were close in some ways, but distant in others. There was always a sense of competition between us even when we were young, especially between me and my sisters. My mother was Bene Gesserit and was very strict."

He's studied so much about Sabberon, learned about your House's old customs and traditions - but yet, he realizes how little he truly knows about you; A pang of guilt washes over him for his previous assumptions and judgments.

Your boots look foreign against the rug on his bed chamber floor as you drag the tip of one. "They were like having built-in friends." You acquiesce, "They made me laugh all the time."

It's hard for Paul to picture you joking or laughing at all. "I don't have siblings," He states - obviously - "but I've always wanted to be a brother."

He knows the bittersweet territory he's crossed, and does not wish to upset you or remind you of all you have lost. But instead, you just send him a kind smile; one that's almost shy. "You'd be a good one." Your eyes are nostalgic and sincere; he has to look away.

Clearing his throat, he notices your hands as they sit in your lap. "It looks better," He says, nodding to your hand, where the sting had been reduced to a mere blemish. You smile, a sheepish thing, but it still brightens Paul's dark room. "I thought you'd been tricking me." You admit, face flushed as he lifts a brow, "Trying to make me look foolish."

He hums at this, tilting his head. "I assumed you'd thought I was trying to poison you." He admits, smiling just as sheepishly. Speaking with you feels surprisingly relieving - perhaps he is more tired than he thought.

"The possibility did cross my mind." Your voice, keenly serious, makes him chuckle slightly. He shakes his head, "I wouldn't have tricked you. I know how bad those crabs sting." He recalls one day lathering the chewed root onto his toe, fighting tears as his father watched with an amused sternness. If you disrespect them, he'd said, they'll disrespect you.

"I was considering amputating my hand before you showed up." Another attempt at a joke, from you? You're opening up; despite himself, he grins. Your eyes are deep - under the dim lighting, they shine in a way he hadn't expected; staring, he loses his track of thought. You seem to have as well, clearing your throat awkwardly.

"Is this your book?" You ask suddenly, rising to pad over towards his bedside, tilting your head to run your spine over the book that sits, embarrassingly, on his bedside table. The Noble Lineage: Exploring the Customs and Cultures of the Houses Major of Landsraad: House Bourbon. He nods, "If you'd like to read it, help yourself."

Craning your neck back you look at him, lifting a brow, "Is it interesting?"

For a second, he stares, unsure what to say - it dawns on him that you're teasing, and he cracks a small smile. Odd as it is to see a woman who was a mere shell open up, he's glad to have the priviledge of your trust, no matter how small or weak it may be.

"Haven't decided yet." He retorts, the feeling foreign.

"Maybe I will borrow it, then." You muse, "Perhaps it'll finally be the thing to lull me to sleep."

He stands to meet you; three steps over and he stands before you, taking in - not for the first time - your height and how your neck moves to look into his eyes. "You should get some rest if you can tonight." He agrees, "We've got to be at the Strategy Council tomorrow morning."

You nod, clearing your throat, "Oh- Yes, apologies." You sigh, "It's been a long day."

He hadn't meant to insinuate you should leave, but as he escorts you to the main hall, his eyes are drooping. Mercifully, though he tries to, you insist he need not walk you to your room.

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Alone back in his room, he stares at the book; Despite the barriers that still exist between he and you, there's a shared humanity that binds you together— funny enough that fear and reluctance is the thing that has made him realize such an obvious sentiment. He falls asleep and dreams within minutes.

You return to your chambers, the warmth of the last few minutes wearing off of you slower than molasses.

Alone, you are left with haunting thoughts; What do the Bene Gesserit have in store for you if you do choose to continue? Looming further is the prospect of galactic war should the Harkonnens leverage their petroleum reserves. The implications of you and Paul's shared visions; despite yourself, your cheeks flush with heat - how similar are these dreams of yours...?

And Paul - his eyes are very green.

He keeps his room neater than you'd thought - and with a bit of shock you'd seen all of the books on planets, flora and fauna, biology, culture. You secretly wished you could have observed them all closer - there were ones you've never heard of, and even one that had struck you right in the chest - Giedi Prime. Their culture was horror, after all.

You shake off the warm feeling of conversation - though the subject had left you on edge, it was terribly reassuring to have someone who not only you could speak freely with about your dreams and the Bene Gesserit, but who seems to hold similar opinions as you. Emotional whiplash has given you a staunch headache - you still believe that respecting someone is not the same as enjoying someone's company... but perhaps it doesn't always have to be mutually exclusive.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes; you can't get the smell of his bedroom off your clothes. You change into your robe. Before drifting to sleep, you catch sight of your bureau, the daunting metal that stares at you gleaming from across the room.

Yawning, you pad over to it.

The message remains on your desk, where it's been since being delivered a few days ago. You'd read it already, yes - read, cried, raged, and accepted it. Now, you suppose, it is time to respond. And in due time, it's finished.

My Dearest Aunt Ginaz,

Your letter arrived at a very uncertain time for me and for that, I am profoundly grateful. I apologize for the delayed response, it has been quite an adjustment for me after leaving Giedi Prime; Before that, as you've suspected, my keepers preferred I did not receive or send messages. There wasn't a day that passed where I didn't wish to read them.

For my betrothal to Paul Atreides, your kind words of congratulations reassure me; Truthfully, the prospect of marrying into such a noble family is daunting, yet they have been quick to assure I have felt welcomed. It is a sharp change from my previous engagement.

The loss of my family continues to weigh heavily upon my heart, and there are days when the pain feels unbearable. Yet, every day I am learning to live again. I can walk to the sea - the sea, which I have never before seen in my life. I spend my days educating, training with Swordmaster and your old friend Duncan Idaho, and have begun to sit in on the Duke's Strategy Councils. I believe I will live well here.

The final arraignment at the referendum is nearing, and I wonder if you will be attending alongside Lord Ginaz - Even if you are not able to attend, I will face the challenges that lie ahead knowing I have you on my side.

Your offer of sanctuary is a gift beyond measure, and I cannot express how much it means to me. I long for the day when we can be reunited and I might hear more of your life. In the meantime, know that I am safe and well, and that I carry your love and affection with me always.

With all my gratitude,

Your loving Niece

You almost feel guilty for the lies you've woven through your message - though not explicit, they are little and white and still deceiving. Your mother's bastarded sister, who succeeded your mother's parents when they died, inherited the noble last name as one of her father's dying wishes. They'd had several daughters - all married off to other houses, like your mother - and she had been left to learn to run the Swordmaster School. She now rules over their house with her husband, who took the name Ginaz when they wed.

You smirk, thinking of this: Paul Bourbon - it has a poor ring to it, you decide, wiping away the thought before it can blossom. You blink deliriously, knowing you are in acute need of sleep, and sigh.

You'll have Hestia send the message out in the morning; for now, all you can do is try not to dream as you curl up on your bed, eyes heavy with the weight of the day.

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You know you're dreaming this time.

The clouds are too fluffy, sounds muted as if you'd stuffed cotton into your ear canals. The hands that are on you are Paul's, you know this. But you're not embracing, no - there is no pleasure; his hands are slippery against your flesh and you're gasping in pain, gasping for breath. You are bleeding.

Or, is that his blood?

You squint, trying to find the ground, but all you see is the hilt of your nameday blade glinting in the sun, blood dripping from the tip. Who wields it? You let out a short groan, filled with pain - Paul leans against you, his weight heavy. The air is heavy with snow - no, not snow, ash. Ash that rains from the sky in flurries, fighter ships booming above your heads.

Another flash of your knife, this time in a hand. Gasping,Your hand comes away from your own abdomen, tainted black - black as the sun you once lived under.

"Hello?" A fuzzy voice, laced with pain, but you could pick it out of millions. You look into his eyes and see green; hands cup your cheeks, staining handprints over your trembling skin. An explosion somewhere in the distance -

"Paul." You breathe, fear lacing every fiber of you. You're dreaming, you're dreaming. You can't breathe.

But then, Paul's face changes - a sickening recognition flickers over his features when you speak, and something shifts. There is something wrong; He says your name as if he's surprised to see you, as if... as if you were in the wrong dream.

He looks down, as if expecting to see something between the two of you. But with his head tilted down, you squint, just barely making out the glint of another figure; glowing skin, sickeningly pale. A black smile.

There is someone behind Paul, and he is holding your knife.

It has the blood of your husband on it.

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follow @tremendumnotifs for updates.

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#paul atreides x reader smut #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides smut #paul atreides x you #paul x reader #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #feyd smut #feyd rautha #dune smut #dune fanfiction

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superficialdomina · 5 months

Text

Fray (Into Submission, Part 4)

Part 3: Lost

Series masterlist

AN: An Avengers training session gives you a chance to show Loki how fun it would be to let you win.

As always, an enormous thank you to @acidcasualties for making this whole series happen. Special thanks to @lokisgoodgirl for checking the accuracy of my swordplay!

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: 18+; minors DNI. Thirsty with some reminiscing, but nothing explicit in this one. Inaccurate descriptions of combat training. Mostly just lurid descriptions of Loki's smoking hot bod in workout wear, with a touch of plot development.

Days. You hadn’t seen him in days.

There were hints of him; you knew he was still in the Tower. You’d heard his voice a couple of times, and yesterday when you’d stepped into the elevator you could smell that he’d been there minutes before. But he’d upped his avoidance game. It made you sad, and a little afraid.

The look of anguish he’d worn as he’d cast you out of his apartment remained etched in your memory, leaving the subtle ache of guilt in your chest. Had you gone too far?

You mulled it over as you pulled on your gym gear. Loki might still refuse to talk to you this morning, but you were confident that you would at least see him. After several of your coworkers had missed Saturday afternoon’s impromptu training session, Rogers had rescheduled for first thing Monday morning, with strongly worded insistence that everyone be in attendance. His WhatsApp message didn’t quite single Loki out by name, but none of you was in any doubt about its intended target.

The spacious training hall gleamed with the sunlight that streamed through the large 26th story windows, casting a warm glow on the polished mats. The luxury of the Tower was as prominent here as on every other floor. The gym was loaded with state-of-the-art equipment and comprehensive accessories, all meticulously maintained - as though getting your arse kicked by a handful of superheroes would hurt less because there wasn’t a speck of dust on the yoga mats, you thought wryly. You peered hopefully around the room as you entered. I just need to know that he’s OK, you told yourself.

Loki and Thor were sparring hand-to-hand in the open rink, the soft thudding of their bare feet resonating as they moved around one another. Occasional grunts carried as one of the pair landed a strike. Despite Thor’s size advantage, they were evenly matched; Loki was always a fraction faster, seeming to know exactly where Thor would move next, as though each step were choreographed and practiced to perfection. Observing them was like watching an ancient dance. Which is exactly what it is, you thought, momentarily awed. A fierce, millennium-old dance.

Thor’s bare chest, though impressive, was still somehow less appealing than Loki’s lithe form, clad in workout wear that clung tightly to his broad back. You let your eyes blatantly traverse him. His elegant ankles smoothed into perfectly sculpted calf muscles; his Godly hamstrings flexed under the hem of his training shorts, which in turn restrained his flawlessly rounded glutes. His body was utterly splendid. A delight of form and function, forged by centuries of practice and power. A work of art.

If he would just put that phenomenal dedication and discipline to good use in service to you…

“Time!” Rogers called loudly, and the brothers stepped back, arms lowered, chests heaving. Thor clapped Loki on the back amicably, and for the briefest moment, you saw Loki wince. The small movement made your blood run hot.

Pain.

“Three minutes, everyone!” Rogers continued, before consulting the pairs listed in the complicated run sheet on his ridiculous clipboard. “Two and eight,” he began. “Three and twelve. Four and… Sixteen.”

You groaned inwardly, pushing thoughts of your recalcitrant conquest from your mind. The Black Widow. Not exactly a leisurely start to the morning, then.

“Come on, sixteen,” Natasha laughed. “Show me what you’ve got.”

The room filled with the sounds of Avengers in practice: thudding boots, wordless shouts, the familiar hum of mutual respect and collective, focused power. As you sparred, you began to relax into the collaborative energy, muscle memory activating as your training partner led with her familiar fighting style. Nat feinted here, and you responded there; the two of you were strong, and graceful, and -

Thump. You landed flat on your back on the hard mat. Again. At least this time you’d seen it coming. Your body just… didn’t move that way. Or that fast.

“You’re getting better,” Nat insisted as she hauled you to your feet. “You almost avoided that one.”

“I saw what you were doing,” you agreed, somewhat reluctantly. “I just couldn’t do anything to stop you.”

“They rarely can,” she winked, as Steve’s obnoxious whistle sounded again.

“Drinks!” he shouted, “then re-pair for weapons.” He returned to his spreadsheet, muttering numbers to himself, as you reached for your water bottle and your thoughts – and eyes – returned to Loki.

He was sauntering towards the group with Bucky, shoulders thrown back in haughty masculinity, animatedly wiping sweat from his brow with his sinewy forearm. Whore, you thought lustily. They looked almost amicable. You gazed at him, curious; confused. He seemed… fine? Loki caught you watching him and gave you a wink. A wink. Almost like…

Like old times, you thought. What is going on?

You turned away, chugging water, then wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He seems fine. Was it real? If he was truly so nonchalant, why the vanishing act over the past few days?

You were still standing there, bemused, when the team began to pair off again. In your distracted state, you’d missed the next call. Who…?

Only one person remained by your side, and his imperious gaze left you in no doubt as to your next partner.

Loki.

You moved together to one end of the training mats. This close, you could see the fine trails of fresh sweat across his bare shoulders; smell the sweet scent of it heavy around you when he raised his arms to pull his curls back into a messy plait. You imagined the saltiness of it gathered in the valleys of his muscular, sinewy body, with which you had so recently become better acquainted; the way it would pool and concentrate in the deep hollow of his jugular notch.

I could make you sweat like that.

He continued to smirk at you mischievously as he moved into position, as grandiose and egomaniacal as ever. “Short swords, Agent?” he drawled, a short, thick blade appearing in each hand with a flicker of green.

“Just one, Laufeyson!” Rogers shouted, before you could respond. Loki raised an eyebrow at you, flirting with the idea of arguing; but he wordlessly vanished the weapon on his left.

“You didn’t want to lend that to me?”

“Darling, they are hundreds of years old,” he drawled coolly. “I don’t lend them to anyone.” Turning to fetch a training sword, you hid a smile at his words. Had he forgiven you?

Or he’s just feeling cocky.

The gym’s practice swords were hung neatly at the far wall. You tried to pick one that was long enough to be effective, but not so long as to be cumbersome. It was highly irrelevant; he was faster, stronger, and infinitely more skilful than you. You selected a narrow doge sword that at least felt comfortable in your grip.

The gym echoed with the ring of steel on steel as your peers sparred. How many rounds had it been? Each time you lasted barely a minute before he outdid you, the sharp edges of his blade finding their mark at your shoulder, your thigh, and once, your collar bone. Despite your budding fatigue, you found yourself mesmerised by him. He wielded the ancient sword with harmony and fluidity, so fluent was he in its unwritten language, so familiar with its little quirks. Like an old lover, you thought madly, as you struggled to steady the vibrations of the blade with each parry and clash.

His weapon whistled again; this time the flat of his blade struck your hand, and you dropped your own sword. He stepped back to patiently wait for you to ready yourself again.

His fitness was phenomenal - you were breathing hard, your arms burning, and he barely seemed to have slowed. The smirk he’d given you earlier was once again pasted across his beautiful, pretentious face. Patient, but smug.

“Where have you been, Loki?” you asked as you retrieved your weapon, buying time to catch your breath. Dammit, your knuckles stung; you hoped it wasn’t obvious.

“Here and there,” he replied easily. No denial this time. “Are you ready?”

“I was worried about you.”

“If you mean that you feared for my safety, I am most able to defend myself.”

“That’s not what I meant.” For a second you thought you saw a flicker of vulnerability return to his features. If you did, it was quickly swallowed by his traditional haughty confidence. “I just… Well, as long as you’re OK.” Ready, you lifted your blade - and a thought occurred to you.

The timing had to be perfect; if he hadn’t been looking directly at your mouth, he might have missed it. Provocatively raking your eyes down over his long body, you bit your lower lip, and gave a tiny, breathy moan.

It was horribly overdone, but it worked. Loki hesitated for a fraction of a second, his eyes widening, and you took advantage of his momentary distraction to slip below his guard; the steel of your sword captured his, and you pushed - hard. There was the harsh sing of metal-on-metal as you slid down the blade, checking his weapon against his chest. His move was forfeit. He stepped backwards off the edge of the mat, losing his balance - and you pinned him against the wall.

You pressed your body into his, your mediocre blade below his chin, and carefully assessed his face. Was he irritated by your trick? If anything, he seemed… amused.

“That,” he said lightly, looking down at you over his long, regal nose, “was an interesting tactic.”

“You know what they say,” you muttered, still breathing hard. “If you can’t beat them…”

“I dare say it would not be widely effective,” he added.

“More than you think, perhaps.”

And then you noticed it: the slight flush to his cheeks, which could be excused by the workout. The twitch of a muscle at the corner of his jaw. The feel of his perfect cock swelling slowly under his training shorts.

Not amused… Aroused.

Loki knew the moment you’d realised his state of mind. Or rather, state of body.

You’d opened your mouth in mock astonishment, your eyes bright with barely contained glee.

“Are you enjoying this?” you had asked, quietly delighted. The crossed swords had still been pressed unrelentingly against his chest, his blade locked tight under yours. It made his pulse quicken pleasantly.

Loki had given a small, wordless huff, but he didn’t trust himself to speak. In truth, he’d found it highly enjoyable; your control, your audacity, your erotically mischievous little decoy. His own powerlessness. But how could he admit that to you?

The sounds of water splashing off bathroom tile brought him back to the present. Gingerly, he stepped under the heavy jets; steam enveloped him. Lathered soap formed clouds of bubbles that washed away the training-hall grime, the sticky salt that clung to his skin like a fragrance. The precious soreness that assured him that he had worked for this. That he had earned it.

How could he admit that to you? The question turned over in his mind like the soap in his hands, slippery and fraught. It should be simple, really; the evidence was laid bare before him, stripped of illusion and ego in the privacy of his mind. The chamber. The Genuflexa. The young man, beautifully bound. The way your body had risen in his mind's eye to bring him undone, not just then but so many times since…

He let the water run through his long hair, raking his fingernails to help it penetrate all the way to his scalp. He liked the way their sharpness felt on the sensitive skin.

… And in counterpoint, the betrayals of his youth. The early memories of hurt and rejection that had sown the seeds of distrust. The expectations of masculinity and dominance, and the familiarity of the long-worn mask.

Loki lifted his chin to shake the heavy, saturated mass of slick curls out behind him, squeezing the last of the water from it. He thought of you; of how much he would like to tend to your sore muscles, to soothe the bruises you would surely have sustained in combat today. To gently run his fingertips over your scalp, and hear you sigh with contentment.

There was only one sensible question, he decided as he stepped from the lustrous shower recess. Steam was clearing to reveal his glistening face in the bathroom mirror. Did he trust you?

He dried his hands, and picked up his cell phone.

Alright, Agent. Prove me wrong.

Almost immediately, he received your reply. The tone of it sent a little shiver down Loki’s spine.

9pm, my apartment. Be punctual.

Before he could interrogate his feelings about it, his phone gave another gentle ping.

Wear your cape.

Tags: @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @infinitystoner @lady-rose-moon @coldnique @thomase1 @kats72 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @tomlugirl @lokisninerealms @missmushroomsstuff @ladyloki3 @fandxmslxt69 @sinsandguilt @sarahscribbles @lunarnights95 @meowmeow-motherfucker @simplyholl @divine-knight-hand @gigglingtiggerv2 @eleniblue @loz-3 @redfoxwritesstuff @wolfsmom1 @beksib @nyx2021 @lokischambermaid

#sub!loki/femdom!reader #sub loki #loki fic

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