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plutoswritingplanet · 3 months

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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt. 2

a/n: re-uploaded cause tumblr wouldn't show it in the tags for some reason Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con, Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atriedes, Horny Violence, and some angsty family relations (lmao)

Summary: The courting becomes more and more complicated, as both you and the Na-Baron discover something about each other.

Part.1, Part 3. Part 4.(finale)

- He's a beast.

Lady Jessica stops in her tracks, her hands sliding gently across the fabric of your nightgown. It's your Mother, that puts it out on the table next to your bed. But the person, who turns back towards you with an unreadable expression, is most definitely not her. You're talking to a Bene Gesserit sister now. A freezing chill runs up your spine, and you start picking at the skin around your fingernails, a nervous habit you've picked up a long time ago.

- Have you forgotten all that I have taught you? - she asks, turning to face you fully, in the dimly lit space of your bedroom

Subconsciously you retreat into yourself, body leaning further away from her, as if that distance might save you from whatever unpleasant revelation will most likely fall upon you. Lady Jessica takes a deep breath, her lips pulling back into an easy, soothing smile. In the past, you would look for expressions such as this, fish them out for comfort. Now, as you look upon your Mother's face, it all seems to be a trap made specifically for you.

- Men like him, beastly men, are the weakest ones - she explains, taking slow steps towards your hunched form - They need the power and the blood to feel worthy of existing, which makes them easy to manipulate. Keep them pliant under your hands like fresh dough.

She sits beside you, your mattress dipping under her weight, and your eyes are immediately drawn to your Mother's elegant hands, folded neatly in her lap. You wish you could put your head there. Have her pull your running thoughts out with gentle caresses. A hairbrush lays abandoned on the vanity in front of you, and silently you contemplate, whether you'll ever have the opportunity to have your hair brushed by her.

- You must find his weakness, what drives him to do what he does. And then control it.

- I don't want to control my husband - the words spill out of your lips, before you have the chance to stop them - I want to love him, to support him. To give him children he'll love, children I'll love.

Tears fall in heavy waterfalls down your cheeks. You haven't had the luxury of a good cry since your betrothed had arrived, and it feels divine. Letting your body shake and shiver, wrecked by uninhibited sobs, as your Mother looks down upon you, torn between the two roles she must fulfill.

The more you've thought about your situation, the more hopeless you felt. The Harkonnens will never let you see your family again, you're sure of it. You'll have to deal with all the horrors of Giedi Prime entirely on your own, with no support from your husband, no friends, no family. And your children, as they are sure to come, will be taken away from you. Thrown into the black and white, until there's no love left in them.

The Emperror is a cruel man, you think. An execution would've been a kinder end.

- Why did you have to make me a Daughter? - the way your voice breaks in desperation fills you with shame - Why couldn't you give Father another Son?

You know you've overstepped, as soon as the accusatory tone registers in your brain. It is far too late by then, and the hands, which just moments before you've fantasized about running through your hair, grip you tightly. Your Mother's face, a constant image of beauty, twists into something darker, something you don't recognize, and you gasp, as her dull fingernails dig into the skin of your wrist.

- Your Father has Paul - her voice is barely above a whisper, blue eyes stabbing you with the intensity of her gaze - I gave him a son, because he asked for a son. Because I loved him enough to give him one. And he can have him. He can fill him with lessons of male leadership, of short-sighted plans. You. You are my Daughter. You are mine, and I've trained you well enough to conquer this task.

A hopeless pit settles itself in the void of your stomach.

You've always known your destiny would be to marry well, to further House Atreides' legacy. And yet, somehow, there was a sliver of hope, treacherously worming itself into your brain. Your Father had Paul, the perfect heir. Surely, he could send him off for the greater good and leave you to your own devices. Let you find someone to care for you, someone you'd do anything for. The thought sits in the pit of your stomach, turning your insides in shame. Still, you can't shake the sinking feeling, that if the universe was kind, you would've been born a Son.

Your Mother, or more likely, the Bene Gesserit, stands up, a cold chill filling the space where her body used to sit. She regards you once, a stern, unwavering gaze.

- Wear black tomorrow.

Perhaps, you'll die in your sleep tonight. Perhaps the universe will bring you this small mercy.

*** Perhaps you did die.

Through the haze of dreams, you can see him. Bare, as the day he was born, body gleaming white in the darkness of your room.

You can't move, can't see his face, and when he approaches, every single one of your muscles tense. You shift under the covers, cold tendrills of fear engulfing you entirely. He comes closer, moves like a wild cat, stands at the foot of your bed.

The need to run is overwhelming, but your body refuses to listen, as slowly, torturously slowly, he climbs on top of you, defined muscles moving under his skin in a way that reminds you of some cursed demon, rather than a man. His scent fills your nostrils, a mixture of something heady and metalic, and, like a little child scared of the dark, you try to hide your face under the covers.

This demon version of your betrothed sits down, sculpted thighs squeezing around your sides, and with rising panic you realize, he's slowly choking the life out of you. A fitting end, a welcomed one. Perhaps it would be better to die right now, before you discover what atrocities he plans to commit on your body and mind, after you're wedded.

Then, his hand reaches behind his back, full lips pull upwards, exposing blackened out teeth. You barely register the glint of his sword, not until he holds it high up, above his hand. You're not allowed a moment to wallow in your confusion, as your future husband brings the weapon down, sinking it with brutal force into your beating heart.

You awake screaming.

***

In the morning, you pull a black tunic over your head, remnants of your dream clinging to you like an unwanted shadow.

Every move of the silky fabric against your skin feels like a small defeat, and with your head hung low, you make your way towards the dining hall. Truly, you're not hungry, stomach turning and twisting, a steady presence of nerves keeping your body on edge. Your attendance is required however, such are customs, and it is entirely too eaarly for another lecture about your behaviour.

As you enter the room, your mask of tired indifference slips just for a second, a mixture of fear and anger flickering in, and out of existence.

There, opposite of your Father you can see him. Your future husband, the love of your miserable, ending life. Slow horror washes over you, as you suddenly realize that this demonic, otherwordly version of him, which visited you in your nightmares is just how he looks. He greets you with a polite inclination of his smooth head, and you consider not showing any outward sign of repulsion, a small victory on your part. Your Mother doesn't think so, but you dodge her sharp eyes in favor of greeting your brother.

It doesn't go unnoticed, the way Feyd Rautha's eyes drink in greedily the sight of you embracing Paul. His gaze lingers on your smile, and he raises his cup to his lips, scrunching his nose ever so slightly at the unfamiliar drink he's been offered. You want to ask, if they have coffee on Giedi Prime, but the question is forcefully swallowed down. You will not talk to this man. He will never know anything more than contempt from you. Curse your Mother's words, you'll fight this battle every day, on your own, if you have to.

- My Daughter will show you around the training barracks after breakfast - Duke Leto announces, and you freeze with a cup of coffee half-way to your lips.

- Will I? - you ask, trying to control the edge in your voice.

- Na-Baron has made inquires about a place to train - your Father explains, giving you a meaningful side eye - You'll accompany him.

The coffee tastes like rot in your mouth, and you place your cup down with a note of finality. You won't look at him, you don't have to. That knowing smirk could be felt through the very particles flowing in the air, every single one laughing at your predicament.

Despite your best efforts, the breakfast comes to an end, your family slowly rising to attend to their duties. Your Father, ever the cordial man, bids his farewells to the unwelcomed guest. Your Mother does the same, albeit sounding more honest. Paul lingers as long as Lady Jessica allows him, until he is forced to retreat by a slender hand tugging mercilessly on his elbow. A gesture both of you know intimately from your childhoods.

Before you know it, you're left alone with the pale imitation of a man. He arises slowly from his seat, smoothly making his way towards you, each of his footsteps echoing in the dining room.

- Shall we, my Lady?

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his offered hand, like a white spider living just outside of your vision. With a shudder, you slip out of your chair, trying very hard not to touch him, and failing immediately, when his broad chest nearly pushes you back into your seat.

He smells nice, your brain betrays you, the scent bringing back images from your night terror, causing an involuntary shiver to run up your spine. With averted gaze, you turn to leave, ignoring his still extended hand. He follows you like a shadow, catching up to you in no time, as you slide through the corridors of the Palace. It's uncomfortable, to say the least, walking with him behind your back. His eyes bear into you, a prickly feeling at the base of your neck making you roll your shoulders.

It follows you, as he follows, right to the very destination. All in blessed silence, a small miracle to save this already dreadful morning.

The men, launging about at the training barracks freeze in their spots, and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, when Duncan Idaho catches your eyes. His skin has a beautiful, warm tone, highlighted by the morning sun flowing into the room through the windows. You nod, he nods back, an unspoken understanding blooming between the two of you. There could be no suspicion of any closer bond, lest this engagement would be called off. A result, perhaps favorable to you personally, but your family would never live down the shame. And you would never jeopardize Paul's future, no matter how hollow yours looked.

- You have a warrior's body - your betrothed comments, as he inspects the blades laid out on a small table - Do you train here as well?

Small talk, you could do small talk. With a sigh, you tear your gaze away from Duncan, and turn to the Harkonnen, forcing something resembling a polite smile to bloom onto your features.

- Yes, I do - you answer curtly, eyes falling onto elegant, white fingers, sliding over a shiny metal blade.

- It is not a common practice here, is it? - he looks at you, eyes gliding over your stature - Women being trained to fight?

Suddenly very much aware of your body, you cross your arms on your chest, hugging yourself tightly. You don't miss the way his gaze seems to linger on the low neckline of your tunic, and with bitterness on your tongue you wonder, has this man ever felt ashamed.

- Not common, but it does happen - your voice betrays your emotions, a sharp edge settling over your tone, causing the man to arch an eyebrow.

Finally, he settles onto a chosen blade, bringing it up to the light and with laser focus observing the way particles dance on the steel surface. Then, he looks back at you, catching you in the act of observing the prominent, lean muscles on his neck. You ignore the knowing smirk and will your blushing cheeks to suddenly become devoid of color.

They don't, of course, and you scurry to the side of the table, to fiddle with the rest of the weaponry. Your favorite training blade is there, and instinctually, your hand reaches for it.

- Train with me.

The request catches you off guard, and you shoot him a questioning look, one he deflects with a nonchalant shrug.

Your muscles flinch, as you drag your hand back from the blade.

- It would hardly be appropriate - you counter, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your tunic.

To that, he tilts his head, light eyes studying you for a longer moment, until you truly feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny.

- And suddenly you're worried about what the court says? - he cuts you off, before you have the chance to ask, just what exactly does he mean by that - Perhaps you're too soft to fight me.

- I know what you're doing - you point an accusatory finger at his chest, and the man smiles, blackened teeth peaking between his full lips.

- And what am I doing? - it's hard to ignore the teasing timbre in his voice, and you swallow thickly.

- You're trying to get under my skin.

Shivering under the expected cruel glint in his eye, as another, most likely filthy innuendo purses his lips, you turn to him fully, a serious expression on your features.

- I've seen you fight, Na-Baron - his jaw tightens at the sound of your voice curling around his title - I know you're a force to be reckoned with, I'm not scared to admit that.

He straightens, regards you with furrowed brows for a longer second, until, yet again you start to fidget under his gaze.

- Perhaps then, you're scared you'll hurt me - the mere idea is so preposterous, your head snaps in his direction - If I had known, you liked me that much...

- That is entirely not true, and you know it - you deflect again, although annoyance begins to paint your voice.

Then, his hand shoots out, gripping your arm and pulling you closer. Air seems to thicken around you, as you look up at him, with surprise quickly morphing into outrage. His breath mingles with yours, and you can't seem to look away from his eyes, pupils nearly drowned in the overwhelming blue of his irises.

- Stop hiding, my viper. Fight me.

The command, spoken in a harsh whisper just shy of your lips, turns your insides into molasses.

His taller form leans down to tower over yours, an intense expression settling over his sharp features. Close to excitement, much too close to desire, even closer to a murderous curiosity. Your throat feels entirely too dry, and before you can stop yourself, you swallow thickly, tongue darting out to lick your lips. His eyes snap almost immediately downwards, and your heart stops beating. You can't see anymore blue in his irises, only black. Darkness covers his eyes reflecting his thoughts, and you feel like you have to flee right now, before something terrible happens to you.

So you do just that. Ripping yourself away from his closeness, you return to the table, hand finding your chosen blade without really looking.

Another flash of black teeth, as the Na-Baron realizes what you're doing, and the both of you enable the shields surrounding your bodies.

The gathered soldiers watch on, as you march towards the center of the room, determination filling every step to the brim. Duncan gives you a look, which you choose to ignore. You can't think about him now, not when you have your honor to defend against this Harkonnen monster of a man.

Feyd Rautha rolls his shoulders, discards the thin fabric of his dress shirt, and once again you are stricken with his almost god-like physique. The blade looks like an extension of his hand, as he weighs it and slashes the air in front of him. Then, he fixes you with a challenging expression, as if he expects you to do the same, to try and best him at some shameless display.

You decide to keep your clothes on, blade held high, ready to strike.

He jumps from one leg to another, and immediately an orchestra of alarm bells rings out in your brain. Should a man really be this excited at the prospect of fighting his future wife? Should you be this excited? Questions without answers, and before any of you make a move, another one absent-midedly floats to the surface. Just how much can you hurt each other, before the wedding is concluded? How much you'll inevitably hurt each other after?

The darkness he has brought on the ship with him must be contagious, because despite your better judgement, you smile. A sharp smirk, that makes your eyes look less like a human and more like a wild animal. And he drinks it all in, as he begins to circle you.

You'd never show him your back, never again. He's a tried and true predator, the only instinct he has, is a killer one. A fact you quickly get aquatinted with, as he unleashes a series of lightning fast strikes your way.

Immediately you realize, that small show of cruelty he organized at your grandfather's theatre was nothing, compared to what he could truly do. And still, you suspect he's holding back, as you barely dodge a nasty stab, right under your ribs. Another one is blocked against your sheild, and before you have a chance to collect yourself, third one sends you back a couple of steps.

He doesn't let you get away, with confident steps pushing you further and further out of the center of the training floor.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Duncan Idaho stand up from his place. Thinking back to your last training session, you shudder bitterly. "Never fight in anger" is easy to say, when you're not forced to marry, bed and sunsequently give children to the man you're fighting.

Panting and sweating, you give Feyd Rautha your all, twirling in place, sliding on your feet. A different kind of choreography, which seems to work surprisingly well, with his almost animalistic force. Gurney taught you how to be powerful, how to land strikes which were as effective, as they were cunning. Duncan, on the other hand, taught you how to dance. So that's what you do.

Finally, you manage to grab at his free hand, locking your feet between his and bringing him closer to your blade. It stops just short of his artery, blocked by his dagger, the clash of metal reverberating through the halls.

The smirk he gives you is beyond nasty, and forcefully, you push away from him, as if the very idea of skin to skin contact repulsed you. And it does, it truly does, especially now that adrenaline mixed with frustration boils in your head.

- Again - you snarl his way, assuming your fighting stance.

- As my Lady commands - his voice has a natural growl to it, made even more prominent by the exertion of the fight, and he twists his body into a perversion of a curtsy.

This time you're the one to attack first, ignoring your menthor's words and relying on pure rage to guide your steps. A stab to his thigh, which he deflects with seemingly childish ease. Your tunic slips through his fingers, as you slide under his arm. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his blade, when he hides it into his belt. Confusion hits you suddenly. Was he giving up, why was he hiding his weapon? None of the questions get answered, as a foot curls itself around your ankle.

Your balance leaves you with a gasp of surprise, and soon, your back is on the floor, Feyd Rautha following closely behind. Your heated gaze meets his, as one hand wrenches the blade from your grasp and pins both your arms above your head. The other one supports his weight, as he hovers above you, light bleeding behind him in an unfitting image of a halo.

Your chest heaves, sweat rolling down your collarbones, and the Harkonnen doesn't even try to hide the way his gaze follows a stray drop of salt, as it disappears between your breasts.

- You fought well - he complements in a hushed tone, and you writhe desperately under his body.

The night terror rears its ugly head again, as you feel his tighs press onto your sides, almost as if he wants to shape your flesh into the imprint of his body.

- I think I prefer you like this - he whispers, face coming closer to the exposed column of your neck - You belong under me.

That's what does it. Your face twists into an expression of equal parts disgust, and fury. You won't give him this victory, you'd rather die. Legs tangle themselves around his calves, and you use all your strength fueled by the burning need to fucking hurt him.

The world spins, two bodies rolling on the floor, and suddenly you're on top of him, legs biting into his hip bones. While one hand supports your weight on his naked shoulder, the other finds the dagger hidden in his belt. The surprised gasp, which leaves his lips feels like music to your ears, and you don't even try to fight the awful smirk splitting your mouth.

The shield on his neck glows an angry red, as you press the tip of the blade down, right under his bobbing Adam's apple. He swallows, for just a second letting you see the mask of self confidence slip. He has quite long eyelashes, you notice, as his eyelids flutter, a low hum reverbating through his chest. Eyes that are neither blue nor completely black drink in the sight of you. The halo of your hair, the snarl on your lips, the curve of your waist, where one of his hands settle.

Missing all of this, too enraptured by your own fury, you push the blade further down until it pricks his alabaster skin. He hisses through his blackened teeth and you want more, you want him to scream. A thin streak of red begins to flow down his neck, and God help you, it looks like art.

His grip on your waist tightens, all five fingers digging into your flesh through the thin tunic. Feyd Rautha bares his teeth at you in a cruel smile, one that makes you question whether you're the one in control.

And then his hips roll upwards.

A barely noticable movement, easily mistaken for a spasm of the muscles, but you know better. You can read it all from his expression, his pupils blown wide, the quickened breaths of air slipping past his lips. From the quickly hardening length pressing against your inner thigh.

Your stomach flutters with a well known feeling, and that terrifies you more than any pain-motivated erection ever could. Because he sees it, he sees the beginning flames of desire taking root in your center, and the realization looks like ecstasy on his face. Humiliation washes through you, fills you completely. There is no awkward blush on your face, no. All you feel is white, freezing terror, as all your defences seem to crumble all at once.

Like a scared animal, you're off of him in a split-second, and he doesn't chase you, as you all but run from the training barracks. Doesn't have to, he already has everything he needs.

#my writing #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune part 2 #dune 2024 #they try to silence me again on tumblr dot com but i won't let them

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i-cant-sing · 1 month

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Time Traveller AU pt 4

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. AU masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more.

Part 5 is here.

Two weeks had passed since you and Baldwin had met Salauddin. As much as you tried to stay in your room to try and work on your time machine a bit, Sibylla was far too excited with the wedding preparations and was dragging you along. Even the maids were too eager to do everything, be it dressing you up or accompanying you around the castle. You suppose it was their way of trying to get in your good graces so that you'll choose them to be your court ladies. Its all politics really. The few moments that you did try to have for yourself, they'd be with Baldwin. You cant ever have meals without him, even if you were sneaky. You theorised that Baldwin probably had someone in the kitchen to inform him the moment you're having a meal made so that he can join you too (and proceed to handfeed you the first and last bite from his plate).

You decide its finally time to bring up the agenda you had in mind. "Baldwin?" You call softly, earning a surprised look from him because he's used to your admonishing tone. "Yes, princess?" he quickly closes his book, giving you his full attention.

"Do you think... it could be arranged for me to travel?" He raised a brow. "Travel? Where?"

You mustered up the courage. "Egypt."

"Egypt? Why?" Of course he was alarmed because at the time Egypt was under Muslim rule, and Salauddin was the sultan of Egypt. It was his territory and it was far too.

"Why not? I thought you said you would show me the world." You reminded him of his promise when he was trying to bribe you into marrying him.

He sighed and nodded. "That can be arranged. Come on, now." He took your hand and pulled you towards him as he moved towards the corner of his room, keeping you facing him. "I always keep my promises, princess." He whispered kissing your chin before turning you around to face the mirror.

"See? Now you've seen the world. In fact-" He spins you back to him before turning you towards the mirror again. "-ooh! Now you've seen the world twice!" He keeps on spinning you back and forth a couple of more times making you laugh before you get dizzy and lightly smack his arm.

"Be serious for once, Baldwin!" You glare at him. "Dont you get tired from your flirting attempts?"

His eyes twinkled as he cupped your face with his hands. "Never!"

With your face still in his hands, you repeated your request. "I want to go to Egypt, Baldwin." "But why? Do you want something from there? Because I can have it brought here-"

"No." You cant believe you have to manipulate him. Eh, he'll get over it. "I... I dont have a family, Baldwin. I was an orphan and well- things werent great at my orphanage, so I ran away. I wanted to find out about my family, about my parents. What happened to them. So I've been travelling here and there. I suppose thats how I developed an interest in history." You could seem his resolve melting with the way his eyes softened, so you continued on. "Please, let me go to Egypt. I think... I think I might find some clues about my family there. And if I dont..." you chuckled. "Well, I could always write something on Salauddin."

"Do you really want to go?" You nodded eagerly. He smiled. "Alright. I'll talk to Salauddin. If he gives permission, then you can go. I dont think I could accompany you there. Guy has been stirring up some problems here and I cant have him try to start a rebellion."

"Its okay, I can go alone." "Well, not alone. I'll send my best knights along." Shit. Oh well. Better them than Baldwin.

Breaking the pattern for once, you decided to initiate affection and gave him a hug. "Thank you, Baldwin!" You heard him inhale sharply, his body stilling for a moment before his arms slowly but surely wrapped around your frame, and you felt him melt into you a bit. This is psychology 101, okay? Pavlov's dog experiment, if you reward him for "good behaviour", he is more prone to be "good".

If only you knew this may have been the first time in more than a decade that he's been hugged. And now that he has... it only cements more in his mind that your hugs are his- you are his.

As expected, Salauddin agreed and allowed you to come to Egypt. However, Baldwin still delayed your trip by almost a week under the pretence to make "necessary arrangements for your trip".

It was just him trying to find excuses to make you stay longer, or even change your mind about leaving at all.

"You know it's going to be soooo hot in Egypt? What if you get a heat stroke?"

"I'm going with Salauddin. He's been living in the desert for so long, I'm sure he'll teach me how to protect myself from the sun."

"You- what if you get thirsty? You won't get cold water!"

You looked at him baffled. "Salauddin literally had a box of ice in the desert- he served us ice water. Did you forget? I'm beginning to think you might be suffering from a heat stroke."

He huffed. "Surely, you cant be safe in Egypt without me by your side. People will attack you for being my weakness!"

Your heart skipped a beat. I'm his weakness?

You shake your head. Not the time. "How would they even recognise me? I'd be in a niqaab! Besides, I thought you were sending your "best knights" with me." You said turning around to fold your clothes.

Baldwin's hand reached for your wrist and he pulled you back to him, your body stiffening against his hard chest. Damn, how long did he work out for? Just a few weeks ago, he couldnt even stand for long without passing out.

He rested his chin on your shoulder. "I'll miss you." He mumbled, and the corner of your mouth quirked up. "I know." You replied as you tried to break out of his arms and return to your packing. But Baldwin spun you around, his brows furrowed. "You wont miss me?" His eyes held deep concern, while his voice reminded you of a scared child.

He's adorable.

His grip on your arms tightened the longer you stayed silent. Fearing he'd change his mind about the trip, you cupped his face and brought it closer to yours, staring into his eyes.

"No." Hurt flashed through across those blue pools, but you continued. "Because the mere thought that you would be waiting here for me will make me want to return home early." His face softened.

"Home? You consider this your home?" He whispered, clearly affected by your words.

Oh, he's about to die when he hears what you've got next.

Your eyes smiled. "You're my home, Baldwin." You knew if this was an anime, then right now Baldwin would be animated with a pink background with halo behind him, and probably cupids shooting arrows and crying.

His reaction proved you right. Baldwin pulled you in for a tight hug, hiding his head into your shoulder and before you either of you could react, you both fell on your bed, though Baldwin didnt let go of you.

When he finally pulled away, he caressed your cheek with one hand. "What?" you asked with a lazy smile. He didnt say anything, just kept tracing your face with his fingers, looking at you as if he was in a trance. Considering you were leaving tomorrow, you didnt move from the bed. You didnt want to break whatever fantasy Baldwin was in (truthfully, you didnt have the heart for it. He looked like something was healing inside him.) So you stayed there next to him, letting Baldwin run his fingers though your hair and falling asleep to that.

"How did I get so lucky?" He whispered to himself, still looking at you in awe.

Baldwin didnt sleep that night. No, he wanted to memorise your face.

The next morning, you were sent off with a small entourage, even though Baldwin wanted to send you with a bigger one, but you reasoned with him that a large group of people would only draw more attention to you.

"Be safe, princess." Baldwin said, pressing his lips to your forehead. You smiled and nodded. "I'll be back before you know it." He gave you a lopsided smile before pulling out a pouch and placing it in your hands. It was heavy. "I have given the knight commander gold to cater to your every need, buy anything you like but- I still want you to have this. Just in case." You peeked into the pouch and your eyes bulged out at the gold coins in there. "Its too much, Baldwin. I cant take-" He cupped your cheek. "I insist. If- God forbid, things go wrong, I want you to use this to get out." You leaned into his touch. "Nothing will happen to me, Baldwin." He prays so (he and his church is praying for your safe journey). "I know, but please- keep it. For my peace of mind." You finally conceded, giving him a hug before starting your journey.

From Jerusalem, you first reached Salauddin's caravan in the desert, where the Kurdish leader was waiting for you.

"So, have you come up with a plan to leave Baldwin?" He asked, guiding you inside his tent, taking note of the niqaab you were wearing. It was the one Baldwin had helped embroirdered for you- he recognised the ugly flower on your sleeve.

"Its not a priority at the moment." You lied, deciding it wouldnt be good to reveal all your cards to him. After all, he is a conquerer. You dont know what kind of games he may be playing.

He raised a brow at you, setting up the chess board. "Then why are you going to Egypt?" He wanted to gauge your expressions, but your eyes were solely focused on the chess board as you made the first move.

"I have some matters to take care of. Personal matters." You watched him move his black pawn.

"Anything I could help with?" He asked. You took his bishop. "No, you have already helped a lot. Thank you. But I must ask- how did you just agree to Baldwin when he asked if I could go to Egypt?"

He scoffed, taking your knight. "You think I did this for free? Please, your husband had to pay a pretty penny to take his "little heaven's angel" through the desert safely. Honestly, how have you bewitched him?" Salauddin gazed at you. "Either he's too stupid or you're much smarter than you look, the latter is something I highly doubt, so it only leads to one conclusion- Baldwin is stupid." He mocked.

"Hey! Dont insult my fiance." You admonished, looking back at the board to make your next move. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table, looking at you expectantly. "Or else what?"

Your eyes finally made contact with his, and he could feel he had insulted you somehow. "Or else... you'll regret it." You threatened, which he didnt take seriously, because- why would he? You're nobody.

His eyes lit up. "If you were any less threatening, Y/n, you'd be a dandelion." You rolled your eyes, clearly not amused. "Say whatever you want, but you and I both know you didnt do it for the money."

"What do you mean?"

"Mmhm, I dont know. Dont you have enough money already? I think- oh, you made a mistake there." you smirked taking his queen and now his king was left wide open for attack. "I think... you were scared to say no."

"Excuse me?" He moved his king. You chased him with your knight.

"You heard me." Your rook pushed his king into the corner. Frustratedly, he tries to escape by moving his king diagonally, but you were quicker with your bishop.

"Why would I be afraid of a man whose own brother-in-law is starting a rebellion against him and he's been allowing him to do so just because his sister claims to love him?" He taunted at the messed up family dynamics. Of course he knew how ready Baldwin was to give his kingdom away to Guy to be perished, but that was before he was cured of his leprosy.

You had boxed his king from all sides. No escape. "Why wouldnt you be? The same man was only just a 16 year old when he defeated you on the battlefield devastatingly. And that too, when he was so sick, his face was melting off." You knocked down his king. "Can you imagine how strong he is now that he's cured?"

His anger was subtle. Eyes glaring at you, mouth pulled into a thin line, his nostrils flared ever so slightly.

Clearly, you had struck a nerve.

"You shouldn't play with fire." He warned. You twirled his king between your fingers. "Who said I was playing?"

You both sat in silence for a few more moments, with you mostly relishing in your victory. "So, what do I get for winning again?"

His eyes narrowed, though they werent as hostile as they were a few moments ago, "You get to keep your head."

"Am I always playing for my life everytime we play chess?" "Yes." "Huh. So how does it feel to know that I will outlive you?" You teased, making him roll his eyes as he stood up, leading you out of his tent.

"My men are going to accompany you to Egypt. They're ready, so-" he looked at you with a scowl. "Leave."

"Aww, thank you, aljedu!" You waved, leaving before he could get mad at you for calling him "grandpa".

The journey to Egypt took a little over 4 days, but you really cant complain with the small army of people at your service. Even the men and women Salauddin had sent with you made sure to cater your every need, and more importantly, help you and your entourage survive the desert.

The pyramids were still as magnificent as in the future, though the area was now surrouded by a bustling market of sorts. As your caravan moved further into the town, you saw a large centre built that had the traditional Islamic architecure elements- huge domes, minarets, white pillars. The colourful tile works (prominents turqoise and dark blue themes) and a few gothic arches displayed the catholic influence as well.

"What's that?" You had asked one of the knights. "Thats the madarasas." You nodded as you recalled reading about it in "the golden age of Islam" era. Madarasa was essentially an educational institution that were devoted to the study of law, maths, science, medicine, religion, philosphy and other subjects. The complex itself consisted of a mosque, a library, a boarding house. They were home to both students and professors, and were maintained by charitable endowments and unlike a modern day college, it lacked a specific curriculum or institutionalise system of certification. Information was usually passed on informally from teacher to student, and both men and women were able to attend.

It was heaven for anyone who seeked to learn, and this was exactly where you would be going to get help for your time machine.

But that would have to wait, as you were now lead to Salauddin's palace for rest. It was massive and just like the madarasa, it was also beautifully constructed. The palace spread over on a large area of land, and although it was was around 80-100 feet in height with those humongous pillars at each corner, the palace was largest in horizontal dimensions. Inside, after passing a throng of soldiers stationed who kept their gaze lowered even though she and most of the females were completely veiled, you saw a huge pool that continued throughout the palace, even through sharp corners. It almost looked like the castle was built around the turquoise pool. Despite it being hot as hell outside, the palace was cool and insulated even though there were no air conditioners or fans and was open enough to be well ventilated. You had seen the palm date trees through the city, but there was a huge new variety of exotic plants inside that you dont think would be able to survive in the desert.

Egyptians were truly ahead of their time.

After dinner, you were sitting in your room with your maids. They were talking about the hospitality of Muslims and all, helping you unpack and get ready for bed.

"Alright, time to sleep." You said with a yawn and they all immediately began leaving. All but one maid, who had to stay by your side at all times even when you were bathing. Apparently, Baldwin had ordered her to do so because he didnt trust anyone in the foreign lands.

"You can go to your chambers with the others, Isabella." You smiled politely at the blonde girl, no older than 19. She shook her head, her brows furrowing in concern. "No, princess. It is my duty to be with you at all times. What if you need me for something?"

"I wont." You smiled tightly. The sooner she left, the sooner you could sneak out of here and go to the madarasa. "You must be tired from all the travel. Please, go rest. I insist." But it was like she couldnt imagine committing a grave sin like this.

Fine. If she's not going to leave then-

"Isabella..." you come close to her, fiddling with your thumbs. "Can I trust you, Isabella?"

She nodded obediently. "Of course, my princess."

"I need to get out of the palace for some time." You tell her slowly, letting her absorb the words. Automatically, she responds. "I can have them arrange a tour tomorrow-"

"No, Isabella-" you let out a distressed sigh, rubbing your forehead as you paused for a dramatic effect. "I need to go out right now."

"Now? At night time?" The young girl wondered what possible emergency you could possibly have. "Oh, um- well, I can have the guards prepare a-"

"No!" You turned around, reaching for her hands. Isabella's eyes widened. A princess- royalty is touching her? You tilted your head sligtly, eyes making a desperate plea.

"I have business that I need to take care of on my own. I-" you sigh dramatically before looking at her with most remorseful eyes. "I have to find my family. I need to- I cant get married without them attending. I- I- just need them and I know! I know they're here! I can feel it!" Isabella's face softened at your "distress" but you can still see her hesitance, and so before she could protest, you squeezed her hands. "I tell everyone I am an orphan but- the the truth is... I was a slave. I was stolen from my family and- and I was raised with other slaves. It wasnt until I was 8 that I had ran away. I've been running from my owners for a long time, all while trying to find my family. I dont care if they're dead but- I need to know. I need to know, Isabella. You... you understand why, right?"

Tears slipped from Isabella's eyes as she nodded her head feverently.

"Of course I do, princess!"

You pulled your shawl around you tighter. Temperatures really did drop significantly at night in deserts. You were now standing outside the madarasa you had seen earlier in the day after convincing Isabella to stay behind and pretend to be you under the covers in bed while you went out.

The building was much more quiet now, although the market was still alive but people were less and everyone was mindful of how much noise they made.

You quietly walked into the madarasa, pretending to be one of the several servants who were entering the place. Inside, the area was designed in the shape of a rectangle without a roof in the center. The moon light illuminated the common ground in the middle while lanterns were lit all around the 4 sides, numerous doors on each side.

Keeping your veiled head down, you walked past many scholars and students. You wanted to enter a room, but with all the doors closed, you feared you'd enter the wrong room with someone who wouldnt be as forgiving to a stranger entering this place.

But luck was on your side tonight, as your eyes finally caught sight of an ajar door, and you slipped in once you noticed no one was currently in the room. The room was far more spacious than you had anticipated and even though the equipment was far too old, you recognised it to be a sort of lab. Nearing the desk in the corner, you noticed some papers spread around with some maths done. Even though the numbers were in Arabic, you recognised it- algebra.

"What are you doing here, woman?" You look upto find a man in his late 30s with a white turban and a black beard looking at you angrily. "Who sent you here? By Allah! Leave right now or I will have you punished for trespassing and attempting to seduce a pious man you devil-"

"I'll leave but I cant go without correcting your error." You said pointing to his papers.

He blinked at you. "What error?"

You laughed tauntingly. "Im surprised you dont see it." The man's brows furrowed as he marched over to you. "There is no error! I am the finest mathematician of this decade, if not century! I study astrology, biology, physics, alchemy, philosophy and you dare tell me that I made an error?! I am Al-Abbas ibn Bashir! Who are you to correct me woman?!"

You stared at him unamused. "The square root of 8 is not equal to the square root of 4 + square root of 4." You said pointing at his paper. He squinted at you, trying to process your words before looking where you were pointing.

"Yes, it is. It is additive-"

"Not everything is additive." You sighed, pulling out a blank sheet of paper and solving the question step by step for him. "See? Square root of 8 is 2.818 while square root of 4 is 2, so since we have two square roots if 4, it'll be 2 plus 2, which adds to 4."

You sat down on his chair while he looked over your explanation, trying to find an error in your work. There were none.

Abbas looked at you, brows still furrowed. "You- fine, you are correct. I made a small error-" "Small?" You teased. "Yes, small!" He snapped back as you chuckled. He continued. "But that doesnt explain what youre doing in my office. Who are you?"

You rested your head on your palm and stared at him. "I have work for you."

"And what might that be?"

"Hmm, depends. Are your studies purely theory based or... experimental as well?"

Abbas gave you a nod. "I like to mainly focus on theories, but I like to test my theories as well, so from time to time, I do have to conduct experiments as well."

"Fantastic!" You straightened up and grabbed a paper as you began drawing a tool. "Here, I have mentioned the dimensions and I need you to engineer this for me." He took the paper from you. "What exactly is it?"

"I cannot tell you." "Why?" "Well, I'm a scientist too, and I dont want you to stealing my work." You replied as you pulled out your coin purse that Baldwin had given you. "I suppose this would be sufficient for you?" You placed 5 gold coins in front of him.

Abbas scoffed. "You think you can buy me? I dont care for money!" He stood up, turning away from you.

You raised your brow. "Name your price."

He shook his head. "I cannot be bought, woman. I am a man of science. I have far more important things to be doing with my time-"

"Like making more mistakes?" He glared at you. "One small error. Thats all it was. Besides, just because I made a small miscalculation doesnt mean youre smarter than me."

You smiled under your veil.

"Wanna test that?"

Abbas had decided to work for you after you had outsmarted him in every subject he presented. I mean you only had to touch the basics of what you had learned in 6th grade science class but he was- bamboozled.

After he had recovered from his shock, he had agreed to work for you on the condition that you check his work for mistakes and impart some of you teachings. He swears he wont copy any of your "works". You gave him the gold coins and told him to work under complete discretion and that you'd meet him again in 3 days time, when you're ready to return to Jerusalem.

The plan was to collect your tool from him and then give him a couple more tools to design which you would collect 2 weeks later when you visited Egypt again. Because while you do need to work on your time machine, you also need to find ways for Baldwin to go to war with Salauddin again, because originally Baldwin dies of leprosy, but since you already cured that... you need to find a way for Baldwin to die and so far, a war seems to be the only answer.

But youve seen their relationship... Baldwin and Salauddin wouldn't simply jeopardise everything like that. They have a good bond, a strong friendship even.

However, if highschool has taught you anything, even the closest friendships end because of misunderstandings.

And so, a week later, you were back in Jerusalem with your new tool and a new plan in mind.

You walked up the stairs and towards Baldwin's office. Since you had arrived earlier than he was expecting, you wanted to surprise him. Honestly, you missed him and his adorable expressions-

You stopped at the foot of the door, your heart dropping at the sight.

Baldwin and a woman... kissing.

Thoughts? Also send asks

#yandere baldwin #yandere king baldwin #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere boyfriend #obsessive yandere #baldwin iv #king baldwin iv #koh #yandere salauddin

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hoeforhao · 10 months

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🏷 Kidult ▪︎ Choi Seungcheol Fic ▪︎

↷ pairing: dad!seungcheol × fem!reader (feat!jeonghan)

↷ genre: heavy angst, fluff towards the end, mentions of childhood trauma, sort of arranged marriage? cheol and reader have a daughter together, lots of dad seungcheol content!!!

↷ summary: can trying to relive the childhood you never got to experience, through your daughter be the reason of your husband's irk?

↷ part: 1/4 pt.2, pt.3, pt.4

↷ w.c: 2.5k

↷ author's note: part 1 is here finally!! will try to post part 2 by the end of this week, and part 3 will be a bonus smut which will be published on cheol's birthday♡

If you want to be added to this fic's taglist, drop a comment under this post ; my ask box is open too♡

Motherhood was truly a blissful chapter of every woman's life. Seeing your child growing up in your arms, her little legs stomping through the grass to join her playmates, often tumbling down on her way, her father going completely nuts over the itty bitty scratches on his princess,made you feel a joy not even billion dollars could buy.

But that's definitely not something you believed in before getting married to seungcheol or even when you announced to all of your family, that you were about to birth a small little version of your husband and their son.

While his child swelled in your belly, his ignorance and indifference towards you, swelled in your heart. Although it would be downright selfish to say that seungcheol didn't take care of you during your pregnancy, but you surely weren't that naive to not understand it was all for the wellbeing of his daughter.

Well some people unlike others are just destined to go through life like a soldier, bound to only their duty without the luxury of enjoying worldly pleasures - that's what you've been telling yourself since your childhood, all throughout your marriage but now...now it's different.

As selfish as it may sound, your daughter Hana's childhood now gave you a newfound hope of reliving those years of your life that you never got to cherish....being as carefree and jolly like a two year old, sleeping every night with a teddy tucked under your arms without any thoughts about how to deal with this cruel world.

You were so consumed in your thoughts that you failed to notice the cinnamon pie set in the oven being slightly overcooked along its edges.

"Shit shit shit you cannot mess this up y/n!!! Cheol and Hana are crazy over your cinnamon pie and the last thing you wanna do is disappoint your daughter and his father" you mentally cuss at yourself while taking out the pie pot from the oven as quick as possible....mildly burning your fingers in the attempt.

A thud of the main door shitts your concentration from your burned fingers to your hall, which is now being adorned by Hana's giggles upon seeing her father.

"Dada is home princess! What has my girl been doing all day without her daddy huh" seungcheol literally throws his coat on the couch before hopping towards his beloved daughter, taking her up in his arms in one quick lift and peppering the little ball's mochi cheeks with kisses.

"I played a lot with momma today daddy, and you know you know we even threw a birthday party for Bella hehe" Hana started blabbering out her entire day's routine to her father, sitting on his lap, her head resting on his chest,as seungcheol kept on playing with his daughter's silken locks.

"That's why my cupcake is all dolled up right now huh, I see" seungcheol's arms wrap around Hana's waist tightly while patting her hair. "Do I look like a princess dwaddy?"

"When does my Hana doesn't look like a princess, baby! You're royalty, my little highness" you were watching such a dreamy cinematic sequence of a perfect loving family being played out infront of you, from behind the kitchen counter....the catch being you were just a part of this trio only for a show to others.

"Daddy daddy can we go to the park tomorrow pwease" your daughter surely knew that her puppy eyes was cheol's biggest weakness and that's what she used everytime to make her father tend to all the tantrums.

"Anything for my babygirl. But first you've to stop looking at me with those eyes or dadda's heart will burst from cuteness babie" hana's adorable beads were now paired with her dad's dimples making your heart swell at the view. Two of your cutest dumplings.

"Come on now enough talking you two! Who wants to have the first bite of the pie?" you break off your glare from the duo and bring out the piping hot plate of freshly baked crust from the kitchen and set it on the table before them.

"Me me me" "No me" "No daddy me. Won't you let your princess have the first bite" one pout from Hana and seungcheol melts into a puddle, stuffing her small cheeks with the first bite of the pie by himself. "Next time dadda will win for sure!!!" a small hmph leaves your 27 year old husband's lips.

"So when are we going out tomorrow?" you press your lips into a smile like an excited puppy, putting a halt to the father daughter's playtime...your eyes glistening up at the thought of the beautiful day ahead.

"We'll leave after breakfast" seungcheol's stern voice echoes around the hall, awaring you of the void of emotions he has dug out only for you, his wife and the mother of his child.

"Oh okay! Come on Hana it's bedtime bub." you swing her up into your arms, marking your steps towards her bedroom. "No mowmmy I wanna play more with daddy please"

"No baby. We gotta wake up early tomorrow for the park right? There you can play with dad all throughout the day. Okay love?" you plant a goodnight kiss to your daughter's temples before tucking her into her soft Cinderella sheets.

"My cute round munchkin" one last loving glance at Hana and you put off the lights of her room to let her drift into the happiest dream ever, without any tension of the cruelties of the outside world.

Changing into a soft satin robe and tying your hair up into a bun, you finally settle yourself under the duvet of your shared bedroom with seungcheol, your back facing him, wishing ever passing moment, that at least once he wraps you around his arms. But you know better, that he never will.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ・・・・☆・・・・

"YAH CHOI HANA WALK SLOW!" screaming at

that poodle of sunshine waddling away in utter haste, you try to match her pace, literally all breathless and panting.

After a fruitless attempt to follow your spawn of Satan going absolutely haywire about being in a park with her daddy, you curve up your back, sweating like a pig looking for some air ; a pair of cold petite hands lands on the crook of your neck.

"Who the fuc - oh my god Mr notepad ass what are you doing here!!" your face instantly harbors the biggest smile upon seeing your childhood bestfriend after literally months.

"Come on girl, you meet the heartthrob of the town, and this is how you greet him? Girls swoon over m - ah ouch y/n lord my future gen " hearing jeonghan blabber 'bout being a hot cake was downright torture for you, when the man literally had no cake to offer!!!

"Yeah yeah sure that's why you used to ask me to find you a girl, pheww!!" a big smug visible clear in your eyes.

"sigh Is this how you welcome your bestfriend after almost an year??!!" han knew that him giving you those angel eyes will make your composure melt in a matter of seconds and that's exactly what happened.

"Oh come on! I was joking! You know I love you, you little bunny" you instantly wrap your arms around han's waist tightly, while pouting like a puppy yourself, as he returns the gesture in a blink.

"Except the cake part tho, hehe!" a slight pinch lands on his butt as you free yourself from him to walk to the ride's counter, hand in hand. Your heart was fluttering like a flock of doves, because you could let your true self take control only when with jeonghan, from laughing like a five year old, being a naughty tease to smiling wide like the sun. Why so? Because apparently seeing you letting your inner child out in the open, irked your 'husband'.

"Oh the main question! Why are you here? That too at a theme park!!!" shooting an interrogative glare towards jeonghan you march away through the crowd like a happy squirrel.

"I'm here with Nabi, and my little bunbun Byul. She literally manipulated me into taking her to this park. ME! THE YOON JEONGHAN BEING MANIPULATED. CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT! I guess she learnt it from her dad only" jeonghan blurted out almost an entire verse within seconds, and you felt nothing but sheer joy being reunited with the only who who cherished your presence, after so long.

"There they are" you look over the thick mass to see Seungcheol and Hana standing by the ride, her little pinky entwined with her father's dainty yet strong digits, while pulling onto jeonghan's arms to run towards your family.

Cheol's face turns slightly dark watching you beaming with joy being arm tied with another man, that was not him. He knew jeonghan was your bestfriend from the time your wedding bells rang but....there was this feeling in his heart against Han, that he could never justify.

"Hey Seungcheol. How you've been? Grown quite buff huh!" Jeonghan playfully slaps Cheol's muscles, earning a sort of irritated groan and a tight smile from him.

"Looks like someone's jealous!" you lean your body over jeonghan's shoulder, whispering into his ears which lands you into being tickled by him like crazy, in public.

"Okay okay I'm sorry, s-stop!" Han's devilish hands finally leaves your body, as yout chest heaves up and down, breathless from laughing an entire year's worth.

"Umm hmm" cheol clears his throat as he tries to break off the *not so desirable scene rolling out infront of him* "we should get Hana going on the ride now, she's growing quite impatient"

"Omg yes so sorry baby mom got distracted" you take Hana from her father's grip. "Cheol cheol let us get on the ride too na? Pls!!! Pls!!" pulling onto your husband's biceps, being in a trance of happiness and forgetting that he's Choi Seungcheol and not your buddy, Jeonghan -

"Stop behaving like a kid y/n! You're twenty seven and a mother to a two year old! Fuckin act like one" each and every word that left cheol's lips carved out a new wound in your heart. Though he's right anyways....you don't deserve to fool around like a happy child....you never did....

"I'll call Nabi and Byul too. Both of them can enjoy their visit that way then" jeonghan steps in to somewhat chase away the cloud that was near to pouring down over the four of you "and Byul is herself quite fond of her bestfriend Hana anyways. They would love this set up" Han's lips curl up into a forced smile as he walks off to fetch his own family.

"I i'm sorry" you let go off Hana's tiny fingers, as soon as jeonghan leaves,leading her to the ride's entrance. "Hold on tightly to the bars, okay? Mom will be right here" your soft sweaty hands cup her cheeks before she turns around to go get seated on her most awaited part of the day.

Seungcheol's face is painted with guilt and regret, as he watches over his small family - while her daughter is glaring brighter than the sun with soulful joy, his wife is standing all gloomy beside the long sheep haired guy he have always envied.

"Mommy the ride was amazing. You know Byul was scared hehe. She was holding onto my arms" your daughter waddles down the metal stairs, her bestfriend following soon after, both of their faces all sweaty and glinting from the little adventure.

"N-no i was not, i i just tried to k-keep Hana safe" the two year old blurts out, trying to protect her pride, while her dad scoops her up into his arms, drying off her face with his shirt.

"Yes you're my strong and brave bun, I know that baby" jeonghan places open mouth kisses on his daughter's face, shifting her to her mother's arms gently, placing a gentle kiss on his wife's forehead in the process.

Such a beautiful family. A word that would never fit your own -

"I - I'm taking the girls to have some ice cream" seungcheol breaks the silence that has now creeped up onto your face. "Wanna j-join us, y/n?" no matter how much he tries to act cool or indifferent, the words he threw at your merry face just few minutes back, refuses to leave his mind, engulfing his form in severe shame and agony.

"No I would like to stay back. You three go ahead" the change in your tone was clear enough for even a stranger to notice....and jeonghan has known you for twenty whole years.

"Nabi you accompany the girls and seungcheol. We two will be waiting for y'all by the carousel" surprising right? How jeonghan was the one having your back and not your husband!!!

"Seungcheol was being an absolute dick back there you know. A very annoying, lumpy and dumbass dick " han's hands curl up against your shoulder as he pulls your head to rest on his nape, while both of you were seated on a bench shining under the dreamiest luminaire.

"Hmm" you hum into his skin, warm salty drops slowly making their way down his silk shirt "or maybe he was actually right"

Pulling yourself up from Han's embrace, you focus your eyes onto your lap, while fidgeting with your fingers, when you feel a warm pair of hands cupping your cheek, fingers pushing off any drop of water that dared to pass by your supple skin.

"Just because someone doesn't appreciate your presence in their life and treat you as nothing but a person their daughter calls 'mom', doesn't mean that you are allowed to downgrade yourself" his hands traveling down your face to now engulf your palms into his, "You have every right to be yourself y/n. I know how you've been fighting all your life, how you never had anything what people call carefree childhood these days....don't let anyone murder the soulful kid within you. Understood, Ms Thumper Paws" jeonghan settles his speech with a finishing pinch on your dumpling cheeks.

"Aye aye sir! Noted!!" you finally flash him with the smile he has been trying to bring out since 'someone' decided to slash it.

To both of your oblivion, seungcheol was watching his wife, his partner being all giggly like a beaming ray of sunshine, her bunny teeth making its way out for the world to see, but-

not in his arms, not on his jokes, instead because of her bestfriend....the person he has always been jealous of, for making you smile so wide and bringing out the adorable kid in you!!!something only he wishes to do you for you.....

all this while the caramel ice cream he brought for you melting away in his hands, as he takes in the sight before him with gritted teeth and hurt eyes

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lilacstro · 6 days

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Astro observations pt 3

Trying to be a little consistent haha! Also, I suggest using astrology as a self development tool. While I do believe in fate and predictive astrology, I believe you still have free will for most parts in your life and how the cosmic energies playout for you can be hard to pin down since one single placement can have multiple meanings on how it is interpreted. If you have challenging aspects, you can DEFINATELY work your way through them and NO aspect or placement is bad or life ending ! phew, here we go

1.I think, Uranus Trine Sun can give someone a very unpredictable nature.

2.Uranus in your Second house SR can give you an unpredictable year in your finances. But, if uranus is in harmonious aspects with Jupiter, you will be able to arrange money when needed.

3. I have heard to check the major themes of your year, check where does your chart ruler(ruling planet of ascendant) lie in your SR.

4.Mars in 7th house in synastry can mean the relationship could be very passionate, things could go fast, but it may end fast or unpredictable. (you can just subscribe to the first part if you like, nothing is absolutely set to happen :) )

5.I always have an urge to become a professor after some point in my life regardless of the career i choose , and i found my asteroid academia(829) lies in my 10th house.

6.Speaking of which, if you are considering to choose a major but struggle or are confused, it might be worth looking at where does your asteroid academia overall lie in your chart. I have found it to be useful. I can make a separate post on this one !

7.People with Sun and Jupiter in 10th house// sun and jupiter in positive aspects could do really well in careers like Public policy and international law.

8. The house and planet in your 5th house can determine the nature of you child/one of your children. Mars in 5th house? A physically active child, Sun in 5th house? An outgoing easy child. However, PLEASE CHECK THE DEGREES, I can make a post on weak degrees for each planet if you all like :)

9. Mars square Sun people can have so much restlessness, like they cant be still. My brother has this placement and well, it is not easy to match his energy most of the times lol. Also, very impulsive.

10.Mars in inharmonious aspects with Mercury could show you having problems expressing anger overall. for example

Opposition:

are probably passive aggressive. You might like lashing out? giving silent treatment? saying things you don't mean?

Square:

not saying anything at all, letting things slide even when they bother you? letting your anger build until you can't take it no more.

11. Sun in 3rd/10th/6th/11th could be really talked about. Also can get fame on social media at some point in their life, or get easily famous on social media.

12.Sun in 6th house could mean your co workers may see you in high regard and may like working under you.

13.Jupiter in harmonious aspects with uranus grants you unexpected luck. Places you did not expect to have luck at. I have seen this manifest with my own eyes.

14.Saturn in 7th house people give me the types people go to advice for. My sister has this. Another example of what different placements can mean. 7th house rules your relationship with people while Saturn is wisdom, discipline and guidance, your father in your birth chart.

15.I have seen this analogy that, in your natal chart Saturn is the father, moon is the mother, while sun is the child. How to use this information? Want guidance, your most confident self? Your Saturn sign.

who you turn to when you are down? emotional? who you are on the inside as your most vulnerable self? how to take care of yourself when you are down? Your moon sign. I can make a post on this too, i think it should help? idk, y'all tell.

16. Water mercuries may like writing poems and journals.

17. I have this theory that your Jupiter placements and aspects can show you how to manifest things for yourself. This observation has worked for people in my family, but I can give examples. You can couple this information to create a manifestation ritual maybe.

Jupiter in 10th house: If someone close asks you, what are your plans? or what do you want? tell them (dont breach your privacy or if you dont feel like it DONT lmao, im talking about what ive seen working). Talk about your manifestation.

Jupiter in 8th house: Keep it hidden, dont tell anyone until it manifests, have a positive self talk

Jupiter in 12th house: Visualize it, meditate, think about it as if you have it

Jupiter 3rd house: maybe create a manifestation journal and forget

Jupiter in 9th house: Pray if you believe. Be extremely optimistic about it, fake it till you make it thing.

Jupiter at mercurial signs/degrees/positively aspecting mercury: speak it in existence

I can again make a post on this if you all like.

18. Your chiron placement in your SR is very important. The house it is in would tell you where you will hurt BUT grow. I read someone saying the North Node represents this part of learning, but i respectfully disagree.

I had Neptune AND chiron in my 11th house in SR, and this really amplified the learning experience that came regrading my deceiving friends, how i use social media, and who am i choosing to entertain, all at once. Its scary.

I am really considering making a SR series but i am unsure if its relevant dont know why. (not me giving myself post recommendations all throughout this post lol)

thats all for today, i am very sleepy, I hope you enjoyed this <33

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samkerrworshipper · 8 months

Text

My Masterlist

Leah Williamson -

seeing her tonight, it's a bad idea right?

just some friends with benefits smut that’s ends with confessions of love

medication

r stops taking their anxiety medications during the euros finals to get rid of three side effects… but what happens when it seriously effects them on the pitch

let me love you

r struggles after her and leah break up after some drunken kisses with other people… can they mend it all before r’s health is seriously affected?

the call up

when r gets the news notification from the Spanish federation regarding the forced call up the espwnt

safe and sound

r having suicidal thoughts and leah just being there to support them and be there for them

playgirl

friends to lovers smut w cocky as fuck playgirl leah who secretly only has eyes on r

losing

what happens when r loses for the first time?

asthma attacks

what happens when r has a asthma attack whilst Leah’s out for the night?

i will wait for you.

r gets injured in the champions league final and finds herself pushing out everyone, is it to late to make up with the people that matter most?

lost cause

r doesn’t want to do life anymore… leah’s there to make it all better and let her know how loved she is

tourniquet

r struggles with self harm and Leah helps her with it in theee different examples

pain, sweet, pain.

leah’s return from her acl injury is nothing like what she wanted nor expected, but her team are there to help her up when she’s down.

beautiful girl series (leah + jordan as coparents)

part 1 -> close you’re eyes: leah and jordan’s daughter is struggling after their breakup

part 2 -> have no fear: jordan and r have a heart to heart and somethings are revealed

part 3 -> the monsters gone: leah confronts her daughter

part 4 -> she’s on the run: r runs away

part 5 -> and your moms are here: reconciliation

part 6 -> beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful girl: final part

Lucy Bronze -

mamacita

jersey smut with lucy after winning

daddy?…. sorry

just a little drabble about dom daddy lucy

a shoulder to cry on

lucy is there for r after she has a career shattering injury

euro champs and abs

lucy’s prize for winning the euros

leg shakes and body aches pt.2^

after care for the fic above

epiphany

random grief drabble - more r focused then lucy tbh but if u want a good cry then readdd

Alexia Putellas -

movie night

cheek voyeurism smut with r and alexia at team movie night

lap dance

stripper smut with Alexia after the world cup

on the sidelines

wag Alexia on the sidelines for wnba girlfriend

i remember everything

r struggles with eating disorder… alexis is to absorbed in her own life to notice.. what are th consequences?

the party

songfic based off the song the party & the after party by the weeknd… pure filthy smut

exile

songfic based off the song exile by taylor swift

the last time (pt.2^)

Alexia tries to apologise to r after what happened at the club… another songfic based off the song the last time by taylor swift

between thighs

just a little quickie fic

back between villages

alexia tears her acl.

sugar, baby

u have a little arrangement with la reina

bar-ca

babyfic with newborn alexia and r as parents

Sam Kerr -

cock blocked

team night with the arsenal girls who r keeping you from being thoroughly fucked by your girlfriend

smut headcanons

just smutty dom headcanons with sammy k

a whore’s punishment

literal smutty porn without plot… that’s it.

concealed

little drabble about sam concealing a strap during a photo shoot

the phone call

based off the scene in the uswnt doc with the different call ups except sam x reader coded

acls

based off sam’s acl injury :(

Katie Mccabe -

nails

katie comes home from ireland camp with a new set of nails and she shows you just how much she can do even without using her hands or

Mapi Leon -

massage therapy

mapi gets injured… reader tries to resolve some of the tension in her body

warmed

cockwarming… that’s about it

las 15

based off of the spanish players boycott pre world cup

Alexia Putellas x Reader x Lucy Bronze -

twos a company, threes a crowd

| pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4 |

pure filth between my three girlies

Leah Williamson x reader x Lia Wälti -

all yours

just a little friends to lovers angsty fic about lia and leah getting together when the three have always been best friends and r struggling with it

Mapi Leon x Reader x Ingrid Engen -

long distance

touch starved and anxious reader who’s been away from mapi and ingrid for a while and needs a reminder just how much the love her

Vivianne Miedema x Beth Mead -

bad days

Viv has a bad anxiety day… Beth’s there for her no matter what

Kristie Mewis x Sam Kerr -

pinky promise?

little anxiety fic about kristie stressing about meeting Sam’s parents for the first time

wet dream

kristie can’t sleep.. sam has a wet dream..

Lia Wälti x Alexia Putellas -

captains connection

sometiems the captains are the ones who need the most help after games..

auswnt -

togetherness

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3

just some tillies angst and fluff

arsenal women -

found family

r goes out in the snow and gets really sick, but is scared to bother their arsenal teammates, two captains show up at their door after them not showing up to training for a few days and help them out and show them just how much the team loves them

homework help

when r moves to england she struggles with the adjustment of new school… arsenal team are there for her though

sticker chart

r and kyra r the pranksters of the team… but what happens when they take it too far and the arsenal parents seperate them as a result

revival

arsenal reader has been struggling more than she’d ever admit.. when it becomes to much she attempts to take her life but her teammates refuse to let her kill herself when she has so much more to live for.

hard times

arsenal reader struggles with PTSD and new year’s eve is a particular struggle… but the arsenal girlies are there for her even if she doesn’t know she needs them

narcotics

reader has a drug problem.. her arsenal teammates help her to realise and overcome it

how did it end?

suicidal ex-arsenal reader who retired after leaving the club

barca women -

suffer in silence

r struggles with self harm after the problems with the spanish federation.. mapi, ingrid, lucy and alexia are there to pick up the broken pieces

exhausted

insomnia reader with concerned alexia

initiation orgy universe

initiation:

pt.1 -> pt.2 -> pt.3

celebrations:

pt.1 ->

#woso #woso community #lionesses #leah williamson #marry me rn #sam kerr #kristie mewis #lucy bronze #sam kerr x reader #auswnt #lucy bronze x reader #leah williamson x reader #alexia putellas #katie mccabe #mapi leon

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souliebird · 4 months

Text

[[and then i met you || ch 16]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Words: 4.4k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

You dream of hands.

They are strong, calloused, and scarred, but they are so gentle with you. They dance over your skin, tracing over your belly to your sides and go down to your thighs. They come back up, pushing your panties to the side and examine your most intimate areas, and though you feel desire radiating from them, they do not cross the line into deviant behavior. They do not tease - they explore and memorize and make you feel like something precious.

Once they have soaked themselves in the slick your body can't help but produce, they slide up to just under your belly button and rest there. Everything inside you flutters at the gesture and your body craves to be full - for the hands to feel the push back of a life moving inside you.

They don't linger long - only enough to make you squirm and gasp - before they are moving again. They drag up your center, skirting your breast like they dare not indulge.

They wrap around your throat and give a small squeeze. They are powerful and could crush you without a thought, but they don't. They release you and continue upward. They brush your cheeks, and when a thick digit pushes past your lips and you begin to suckle at it, you finally wake.

Your bedroom is filled with bright sunlight, and you groan with disappointment.

Your instinct tells you to roll into your pillow and try to continue sleeping but your mind is faster than your body and groggy memories of the day before beat against your skull.

Your ear has no problems reminding you that you are ill. As you come more into consciousness, you become aware of how much it aches and how overly warm you feel. You vaguely remember being woken up to have ear drops put in and to coaxed into drinking water. There are flashes of sweet words and praise and being held while you drift back to sleep and gentle little kisses all over your face.

You force your eyes to open and are greeted by the cartoonishly large ones of Scooby. He's right beside your pillow, like he's watching over you, and he's been maneuvered into wearing Minnie’s miniature doctor's coat with her bright pink toy stethoscope clamped around his neck. Your heart sings with love for your little girl and you hug the stuffed dog to your chest, burying your nose in his oversized head.

How in the world did you get a daughter who is so pure and full of compassion and love? It certainly isn't genetic - you don't think your parents knew what compassion was. If this is from what you have taught her, then maybe, just maybe, you have finally done something right with your life.

You stay hugging Doctor Scooby until your bladder complains and you force yourself out of bed.

Your phone is nowhere to be seen, but you don't worry about it too much - you only wanted to check the time. You have a feeling it's around midday, but you can't be too sure - all you know is it feels like you slept forever.

You grab a change of clothes, then head to the bathroom, bringing your toddler assigned guardian with you. After you take care of business, you take the time to clean yourself up a bit before changing into fresh clothing. It does wonders to improve how you feel. Your ear still throbs, and you feel stiff, but you don't feel like you've been wallowing in your own sweat.

As you clean up your small mess, you note the carefully arranged bottles in your bathtub have been switched around. Minnie’s shampoo is in the wrong place and instead of any annoyance, you find yourself smiling.

Matt must have given her a bath. You can imagine how it went, as your daughter enjoys getting clean and playing with all her water-based toys. She also adores helping and following directions, and you can picture her instructing her Daddy on how to wash her hair just right.

You would have thought you'd never trust Minnie with someone so soon after meeting them - there's no way you'd let any of your friends give her a bath - but with Matt it is so easy. He wants so much to be a good father and he and Mouse already have such a good bond. You are just sad you missed their first bath time together.

You take Doctor Scooby and your dirty clothes and leave the bathroom. Your clothes go into the hamper, then you and the toy dog make your way to the living room. You can hear the television going, but it's too low to make out what is playing, and your daughter giggling. The noise warms your heart, and you yearn for her.

The scene you come upon is something you don't expect - Matt is sitting cross legged on the ground, back facing you, with Minnie standing right in front of him. On the coffee table beside her, her toy makeup kit is laid out, with all the different brushes scattered everywhere. Your daughter has a look of pure concentration on her face as she examines her father, a tube of what you know to be roll on glitter clutched in her little fist.

Matt must be getting his first princess makeover.

You can't hold back the delighted noise that comes from your soul at the realization and that of course catches both of their attention.

“Mommy!”

A rocket made of brown curls and a yellow sundress crashes into your waiting arms. You squeeze her tight, trying to absorb her into your being, along with the Scooby plush. The hug only lasts a moment, as she quickly pulls back, slaps her little hands onto your cheeks, and declares, “You're still sick!”

You push your face into her touch, and give a sad laugh, guilt bubbling in your belly, “I am, I'm sorry, Mouse. But I feel better now, I promise.”

She purses her lips at you before dropping her hands from your face and says in an authoritative voice, “Doctor Scooby says you need more sleep.”

You look down at the toy still in your arms, then hold him up to be face to face with Minnie, “My body doesn't want to sleep anymore. Do you think it would be okay if I came out here to be with my family, Doctor Scooby?”

She takes the dog from you and jams his mouth to her ear. She pouts and goes, “uh-huh. Uh-huh. Okay,” before turning him so he is looking at you and you feel like you're being judged by him. “He says you have to stay on the couch. And no cookies!”

“No cookies?” Matt asks from behind Minnie, and you finally tear your eyes away from her to look at him. You have to bite your lip, so you don't laugh.

Mouse has gone above and beyond with her princess makeover.

Baby pink eyeshadow has been smeared over his eyelids, up to his thick eyebrows, and blended out to have a border of blue sparkles. His cheeks are rouged enough to make a flapper jealous, and a deep purplely-red stain has been carefully applied to his lips. Or as carefully as a three-year-old can do, which means the scruff around his mouth now has a nice tint to it. To top off his look, stick-on gems have been placed around his eyes, and the deep red color and shape of them mimic the glasses he typically wears.

He looks absolutely fabulous, and you need to find your phone so you can send pictures to Foggy and Karen.

“No cookies,” Minnie confirms, waving her plush at you to get your attention back onto her.

“Okay, no cookies,” you agree. You don't know if you actually have any cookies in the pantry to eat, anyways, so this will be an easy rule to follow. “And I have to stay on the couch?”

Minnie nods vigorously, “Doctor's orders!”

“Okay, if the doctor says so.”

You push yourself back into standing and your daughter takes your hand to practically march you over to the couch. You plop down in your corner and not a moment later, Scooby is back in your arms. Then, Minnie is zooming away from you and to the kitchen, calling back, “Daddy, I need help, please, thank you!”

Matt beams at you as he stands up and even with his face used as a coloring book, he looks handsome as ever, “I'm coming, my love.” His voice is full of joy and pride, and while you feel guilty, he is stuck babysitting while you're recovering, he clearly doesn't feel the same. You have the suspicion that every time Minnie calls him ‘Daddy’, his heart grows bigger.

You don't turn to spy as Matt disappears from your view. Your phone is on the table behind Minnie’s make up kit, so you grab that then pull the throw blanket off the back of the couch and wrap yourself in it after adjusting to get a little more comfortable.

There are no urgent or interesting notifications waiting for you - a few emails about sales and calendar reminders about upcoming bills that need to be paid. You swipe them away then turn your focus to the television. It is one of the educational videos about animals your little one has started watching in preparation for her birthday trip to the zoo. The date is coming up fast and you wonder if she's been telling Matt about all the animals she's excited to see. You can't wait to take her to the park for her special day.

Minnie brings you from your thoughts with another yell of, “Mommy!” She hurries into your view and your heart swells with love. She's holding your water bottle, which she shoves at you, “Doctor Scooby says…he says you have to stay hide-rated. I asked Daddy what that means and he said you gotta drink lots of water! I got you water!”

You take your bottle and have to resist the urge to take her up in your lap as well. Your little angel is so sweet and thoughtful, and you very much want to wrap her up in your arms and never let go.

“Thank you so much, sweetie, I'll make sure to keep hydrated. Promise,” you tell her, fully meaning to do just that. You try to drink a lot of water anyways, so it shouldn't be hard to accomplish.

Minnie, however, either doesn't believe you or is over eager to take care of you. She grabs a hold of one of your legs and shakes it as hard as she can, demanding “Drink!” She drags out the word in a way only a toddler can and to soothe her, you take a long sip of water.

“What else did Doctor Scooby say?” Matt asks as he returns from the kitchen, and you can feel the grin in his words.

Mouse takes in the question, swaying slightly as she thinks, then breaks out into a big grin as she recites, “Lots of rest and…and a ...a towel on her ear! To help the ickies!”

“Exactly,” Matt practically cooes as he scoops up his daughter, swinging her around before securing her on his hips. He tilts his head towards you, looking proud as can be, “I think we have a little doctor on our hands.”

“I'm gonna be a veteran!” Minnie declares, puffing up her chest.

You know she means veterinarian and decide you aren't going to correct her. Instead, you're going to tease her about her past career goals, “I thought you wanted to be a hot dog vendor?”

Her eyes get wide at the reminder, and she quickly amends, “I'm gonna do that on the weekend!”

“So, veteran during the week and hot dog vendor on the weekend?” Matt confirms, blue sparkly eyebrows raised.

“Yeah!”

You and Matt both huff in laughter and your little one beams at the attention.

You take in Matt's appearance, with his devastatingly handsome face and boyish charm and a warmth churns in your belly. To push away those feelings, you ask, “are you still going to have time to give Daddy makeovers with all that work?”

Minnie looks at Matt and analyzes him, before starting to wiggle to be put down, “you need says-or-eases!” You guess she isn't done with him yet and talks of her future will have to wait.

He sets her on the ground, asking, “I need what?” but she doesn't acknowledge him, running off to the bedroom to grab more of her toys. You watch as he moves his head in minute movements, brow wrinkling up. He must be trying to figure out what his daughter is fetching.

“What is she getting?” Matt finally asks you and you take a sip of water so swallow down any smugness you have.

“Accessories,” you clarify. “You can't have a makeover without getting some new accessories.”

He mouths the word, and you know he has no idea what is to come - Foggy’s nieces must be too old for dress up and makeovers. He remains standing until Minnie comes waddling back. She's carrying one of the purses you've gotten for her, and she's stuffed it full of costume jewelry and hair clips. She dumps it all out on the ground by Matt's feet with a demand of, “Sit, please, thank you!”

Bewildered, he does as he's told, and your daughter wastes no time trying to determine what looks best with his makeup. She holds a necklace up, looking between it and him before setting it aside with a ‘no!’ This happens again and again as she goes through her necklaces, then clip-on earrings and bangles - none of which fit over Matt's hands and are abandoned - and finally hair clips.

You enjoy the process, sitting back and letting yourself wake up as Minnie describes each accessory to her Daddy as she decides if it matches the aesthetic. You snap photos to send to your new friends and Matt is good enough to even pose for a few.

The final look consists of a giant yellow heart necklace, blue teardrop dangle earrings, and Beauty and the Beast hair bow. He looks very dashing, and you tell him as much as you send the end product over to Foggy and Karen.

“If hot dog vending doesn't work out, your side hustle can be as a stylist,” you tease and Minnie beams at you, enjoying the praise. Matt examines what he is wearing, carefully touching the plastic jewelry to better understand what he looks like as Mouse reminds him of the colors.

As they do that, you check the time. It is a little past Nap Time, so once the conversation starts to change, you address your daughter, “Would you like to clean up your toys and get some juice?”

You know she knows this transition and she doesn't hesitate to nod and start to act. She starts with the things on the floor, stuffing them back into her purse and Matt jumps into Dad-mode.

“What type of juice do you want, Mouse?”

“Apple juice, please, thank you.”

“Half juice, half water,” you advise as he carefully navigates out of the living area.

“Is the cup from last night, okay? The sippy one?”

“The bunny one!” Is the almost haughty reply. The pink bunny is the pre-nap juice cup, and you think a fit might be thrown if tradition isn't followed, so you untangle yourself from the blanket and go to the kitchen. Luckily, no one calls you out for leaving the couch.

You smile at Matt as you pass him, and explain, “I ordered water resistant Braille label stickers but haven't finished putting them on all her things yet.” You open the cabinet that holds all of her various cups and pull out the correct one, then pass it over. “This one I did label.”

Matt takes it and runs his fingers over the surface until he finds the Braille, “Pink with bunnies. For Juice. Nap Time.” His face relaxes into something soft as he retraces the words. You don't know how descriptive you need to be with everything, but you know you don't need to spell everything out for him. His lips twitch into a smile and he whispers to you, “thank you,” before turning to the fridge to get out the juice.

You don't want to make things awkward by lingering, so you shuffle back to the couch and reclaim your spot. Matt joins you a minute later, setting the sippy cup on the table.

Mouse finishes cleaning up her toys rather quickly, then grabs her juice and crawls up to be between the two of you. You change the television over to one of the Pre-Nap shows - something calming to help everyone wind down - and out of the corner of your eye, you see your daughter snuggle into her Daddy's side and begin to sip her juice. Matt wraps his arm around her shoulders and begins to oh so gently pet over her arm.

She's out before she finishes her juice.

You don't miss the opportunity to take more pictures of Matt looking down at Minnie. You know he can't see her with his eyes, but you wonder what input he is getting and if he knows how sweet the pair of them look.

You sit silently and wait until you're sure she won't wake up, then reach to gently touch Matt's shoulders, “Do you want to put her in her bed?”

He nods slowly, his whole being screaming with love for his little girl. You take the sippy cup away as he carefully picks her up after standing and you watch as he cradles her to his chest. He stands there for a moment, holding her close, and you think he must be savoring the moment.

You don't disturb him and after a minute, he starts towards the bedroom. You wait until he's disappeared down the hallway to get up and go pour out the remainder of Minnie’s juice. You clean the cup, then grab some skin friendly wet wipes - you have the feeling Matt may not want to keep wearing his makeup. It feels gummy on your skin so you can't imagine how irritating he finds it.

You resettle on the couch and change from sleepy television to soul crushing television - the midday news.

You usually like to catch the top stories and the weather before switching away, but given Nap Time came a little late today, you miss those. Instead, you tune into the host interviewing some politician and the headline bar tells you he's a senator and they are discussing the Connecticut explosion. You turn up the volume slightly, so you can actually hear it.

“- leaked report states this was not an attack, but the attempted arrest of an Enhanced individual gone wrong. Allegedly, the destruction of a neighborhood and the 634 deaths, dozens of which were children, was all caused by one man with powers. What are your thoughts on this, Senator Kelly?”

You frown at the new information. One person caused all that pain? Or are they just blaming one individual?

“Thank you for having me, Vicki,” the Senator says, and you already don't like him. He gives off a slimy vibe - like he doesn't care about anyone but himself. “I've read the report and I've been on the ground, talking to the people whose lives were destroyed, and I've got one question in mind: why were the good people of Stamford not made aware they were living next to a bomb? This individual, whose identity is still being hidden, only released one attack. One!”

Your eyes go wide at the statement. That can't be true. Can someone really have that much power inside of them? You can understand people like Iron Man with a bunch of missiles strapped to him, but someone who is Enhanced?

“What do you propose, Senator?” Vicki asks and something like dread turns in your stomach.

Matt reenters the room just as the vile man begins speaking again. He comes to stand by the couch, putting his hand on the cushion behind your shoulder.

“The American people deserve to know who they are living next to. We implemented this policy for sexual deviants, and we should do the same for these so-called Enhanced Individuals! The Sokovia Accords talks about registering ‘super heroes’,” Kelly uses air quotes around the word, a disgusted look on his face, “but this man wasn't a hero. He was a literal ticking time bomb and who knows how many more Enhanced Individuals are out there just like him. How would you feel if your neighbor could blow up your house with a wave of their arm, or walk through your walls, or Heaven-forbid, control you with their mind? S.H.I.E.L.D showed us all those people existed! How are we supposed to protect ourselves against that? Whose stopping those people from causing the next Sokovia, or Lagos, or Stamfo-”

You turn off the television. You can't hear any more of that man's rancid words and implications.

You tilt your head up to look at Matt and your heart pangs for him. He's openly scowling and in the corner of your eye, you see him gripping the couch cushion tightly.

Your body acts without thought and you reach up to squeeze his bicep, “Matt...?”

“He's talking about people like they are uncontrollable weapons,” he grinds out, “this is McCarthy Era ‘everyone who isn't you is a threat’ bullshit.”

“I know,” you say to try to soothe some of the anger you see boiling in him. You understand the anger and you are angry, too. You think Matt falls under the umbrella of ‘Enhanced Individuals’ and if so, Minnie does as well. It terrifies you that someone who is supposed to be running the country is spitting out such words, but you want to believe he's in the fringe. You want to believe your government doesn't think your daughter is a threat just because she's different. “He's vile.”

With his free hand, Matt wipes at his mouth, still looking furious, “everything he is saying goes against the Constitution. People have the right to privacy.”

You gently tug on his arm, and he takes the signal to come around and sit beside you. You turn to face him, and he does the same, and you decide to take the initiative. You want him to feel better.

You are slow with your movements, so he can figure out your intentions, and unclip the bow from his hair. His eyes flutter shut before he takes a deep, calming breath, “I can't believe they let people like him on the news.”

You hum, then remove his necklace before going for the earrings, “I can. They love to stir the pot and giving those horrible people airtime gets them more views. They don't care about what's being said, only how much money they are getting for it “

“That's bleak,” he grumbles.

“It's better than the networks believing that bullshit,” you reply, as you pluck the red gems from his face. That makes him huff and a little smile form on his lips.

“You're good at this.”

“At what?” You ask as you set aside the jewelry on the table and grab the wet wipes.

“Defusing the situation, turning the negative into a positive,” he says. He keeps his eyes closed as you start to wipe away the makeup Minnie caked onto him, starting with his rouge.

“Is it a positive the news wants money instead of spewing hate?” You counter, a little bit of a tease in your voice. He reaches out and squeezes your knee and you can't help but smile. “Though, I guess it is better to be a capitalist than a Nazi.”

“That's the American way of thinking,” Matt jokes and you have to stop cleaning away the makeup so you can both laugh.

You fall back into silence as you start in on his eye shadow. He keeps his hand on your knee, slowly beginning to rub his thumb back and forth over your sweats. You can practically see the tension bleeding out of his shoulders and a bit of pride swirls in your chest. You feel guilty for turning on and listening to the news in the first place.

When it comes time for you to wipe away the stain on Matt's lips, you hesitate.

You've been trying to ignore the feelings that have been slowly growing inside you. You thought of them as weeds - byproducts of Matt being naturally charming and kind and the father of your child. You know you are attracted to him - you slept with him, after all - but emotionally?

You're terrified of that.

You're terrified of him not returning the feelings.

You're terrified you only see what he allows you to see, and when the facade drops, someone else will appear.

You're terrified of messing everything up - for yourself. For Minnie.

You don't want to think of your dreams, where you know it's him you are imagining. You don't want to think about how perfect it felt to be held by him and know you were safe. You don't want to think about how he still hasn't left you since you had to be taken to the hospital.

You can't fall down that rabbit hole. It's too much for you.

So, you try to rip away the things growing inside you before they bloom and push forward. You fold the wet wipe in half and begin to remove the last of the makeup. You don't rush, taking just as much care as you had getting rid of the blue sparkles.

“All done,” you say as you finish and pull away from him, turning purposefully so his hand slides off your leg. You pretend to not notice and focus on balling up the used wipes.

“Thank you,” he responds quietly, turning as well so he's facing the television once again. You fear things are going to dip into awkwardness, but Matt speaks again before you get to say something stupid. His words are soft and steady, but strike fear into your heart.

“There was something I wanted to talk with you about.”

You try to swallow down your anxiety and tell yourself that this isn't about your silly emotions - whatever Matt has to say must be regarding Minnie. It's the only thing that makes sense, so you come out a small “Yeah?”

“I wanted to talk to you about my mother.”

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#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then i met you

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spicycinnabun · 4 months

Text

pt. 2 3 4 5 6 7 💐

The first time Eddie visited Harrington Floral at Starcourt Mall, it was after he’d finished band practice and had a craving for an Orange Julius. If Californians were good for one thing, it was making smoothies.

It was the mountain of flowers being assembled in the window display that caught his attention, stopping him in his tracks on his way out. Eddie stood there with his guitar case slung over his back, slurping his way through frothy orange goodness as he watched.

The florist was biting his lip as he carefully adjusted the position of a baby blue delphinium. A strand of hair fell into his eyes. The arrangement was called Take My Breath Away, according to the cue card in front of it.

Eddie’s breath certainly had been. He was completely enthralled as the florist’s huge hands expertly handled those delicate little flowers. He hadn’t bent a single petal.

The florist seemed to realize somebody was staring and glanced up—and weren’t those some of the warmest, puppy dog brown eyes Eddie had ever been caught by?

“Gorgeous,” he mouthed, winking and gesturing towards the arrangement, though he was talking about both man and flower.

The florist squinted and frowned at him, pointing at his ear and shaking his head.

Eddie grinned and shrugged. Ah, well.

A customer in the store caught the florist’s attention because he suddenly glanced behind himself, wiped his hands off on his green apron, and then left the window.

Rocking on his heels, Eddie turned to leave, but he spent the rest of the day thinking about the cute brunet and his pretty blooms.

🌷🪻🌻🌹

co-writing this with @batty4steddie 💕

#fic #wybmb #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie au #florist au #flower shop #florist!steve harrington #eddie i can buy myself flowers munson #💐

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written-in-flowers · 6 months

Text

Be the Light: Pt. 5 (seongjoongxFem!reader)

Pairing: Hongjoong x Seonghwa x Fem!reader | Side pairing(s): Ateez x Fem!reader.

Word count: 5k

Genre: fluff, smut/ AU: historical au, arranged marriage au, polyamorous, royalty au

Summary: YN has spent her entire life in service of Han Sookmyung, Queen of Hanseong. She never dreamed above her station, or that she'd ever be in reach of Sookmyung's concubines, 'The Golden Ones'. But, when secrets are brought to life, her world is turned upside-down.

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, heavily referenced torture (briefly), heavily referenced abuse (briefly), heavily referenced sexual abuse (briefly), enslavement, slight gaslighting, lost sibling, political drama, historical drama, joseon!au, concubine!ateez, nsfw content, virgin!reader, polyamory, polygamous, throuple, threesome m/m/f, oral sex (m. and f. receiving/giving), group sex, multiple positions, multiple partners, cunnlingus, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, virgin sex, virginity discussed.

And a huge, huge thanks to my beta @daesukiii !!! Without them, this wouldn't be as good lol

Taglist: @scarfac3 @tunaasan @lelaleleb @sevngmin148 @meljoongiee @puppyminnnie @sunasmoke22 @kyourixr @yoongiigolden @lynnsqueendom @atinycafe @soocore @ethereally-lyann @blackbutterfly133 @ddaeing @pearlytinyy @iweirdthingsblog @huachengsbestie01 @glintneon123 @watamotee33 @n3atjok3r246 @sousydive @ashrocker123 @baekmond @escape-from-realitys-stuff @yunpointe @Silentcry329 @st4rcig4r @kaaytea @c4tboyxiao @ppprimary

Part 4 < > Part 6

****

They combed the entire palace, but Hongjoong knew they'd never find her. Sookymung lived here her entire life, knowing the secret passages and exits. With her supporters aiding her, she is likely on her way out of the city. Still, Hongjoong and San searched in the northern part of the palace grounds; Yunho and Yeosang searched the west while Jongho and Wooyoung took men to the east. He knew you were safe with Seonghwa in the harem, but he couldn’t help thinking of Sookmyung finding her way in there. Whether it is true or not, Sookmyung will believe you had a hand in this and come for you. She'd told him repeatedly how deeply she trusted you, bordering on being in "love" with you. Hongjoong couldn't stop himself from picturing her sneaking into your chambers, and plunging a knife into you like she'd done to his mother. He couldn't protect her, but he can protect you.

This fight was far from over.

By the time they returned to the harem, he found the other conspirators in the main room awaiting him. Jisoo spotted him first.

"Did you find her?"

"No," he shook his head. "She must have fled into the city. The city watch is on alert, but they won't find her." He looked at Wonshik, "We were betrayed. You said we had support on our side," he snapped at him angrily, "You said they'd stand with us against her. I don't know if you've noticed, but at least half of them defended Sookmyung instead of arresting her."

"It was the Dukes of Daegu, Gongju, and Ulleungdo who defected," Wonshik said. "I am not surprised by this. They have much to lose if Sookmyung is not on the throne. I should have foreseen this outcome-"

"-Yes, you should have," he looked about the room for you, "Where is YN?" He needed to see you.

"She's asleep, Your Grace," Chaewon told him.

"Alone?" His eyebrows raised at this serious oversight. "When Sookmyung is out there?"

"She's being closely guarded," said Jisoo.

"By who?"

"Seojoon and Minho-"

"-No," Hongjoong interrupted, "None of Sookmyung’s old guards. Until they have proven their loyalty to their new queen, I do not want any of the old guards overseeing YN."

"Your Grace," she began, "Seojoon and Minho have proven themselves to be loyal servants to The Crown, not specifically Sookmyung."

"I don't care." He looked to the men behind him. If he should trust any of them, it should be the men who stood at his side. "San, Mingi, I want you to watch over YN."

"Are you-" Mingi began to say, but Hongjoong cut him off.

"-I am. San, you used to be an army captain. Mingi, you worked for pirate hunters. I trust you both to keep her safe."

There are so few people he can trust, he realized. Sookmyung knew about this coupe. Someone within their circle whispered their treason, and she gathered people loyal to her. It is the only explanation. She’d known they’d come for her eventually, but you being revealed as her sister distracted her. Even if she does not get her throne back, she will make sure you suffer. Hongjoong saw, watching San and Mingi leave the room, that he cannot simply let anyone be around you. Sookmyung’s allies may have stationed spies within the palace. One of them might even be ordered to kill you. He’d do everything in his power to make sure that never happened.

“What of the lords from Daegu, Gongju and Ulleungdo?” asked Seonghwa. “They’ll likely still be in the palace, if not already in the city.”

“I vote we round whoever remains,” said Advisor Junhan, “And hold them as hostages. We will send word to their families that unless they bend the knee to Queen YN, their children will continue to be imprisoned here.”

“No,” Wonshik disagreed, “If we do such a thing, we are no better than Sookmyung. We must continue searching for her.”

“But how?” asked Seonghwa. “We don’t have the men to spare for such a search. Besides, a whole host of men is a lot harder to hide.”

“I will write to Changbin,” Jisoo suggested. “He has plenty of connections and people to send about the kingdom for us.”

“Can they be trusted to not speak if captured?” asked Advisor Heechul. “Sookmyung’s methods of interrogation are horrendous. She may discover all she needs to know if she apprehends one of them.”

“They won’t talk,” said Hongjoong quietly. He thought of Naeun, who remained loyal until the very end. “Sookmyung tortured Naeun for hours, and she never said a word. Send word to Changbin,” he told Jisoo, “And tell him to plant his spies in the courts of Daegu, Gongju, and Ulleungdo. If Sookmyung is anywhere near those places, they might find out where.”

“Sookmyung will not make this an easy task,” noted Advisor Junhan. “I personally trained her in combat and martial arts. She is an excellent strategist-”

“-No, she is not,” argued Hongjoong. “She’s built her reputation as a great war strategist on lies and fear. It does not take military know-how to storm a castle and put it to the torch. Sookmyung only succeeded in war because she had advisors much more talented and knowledgeable than herself. Her conquest succeeded because she killed anybody who could possibly oppose her in the future, and installed people loyal to her in their place. That won’t happen again.”

“And what makes you so sure of this?” asked Wonshik, not challenging but curious.

“Because we’re on equal footing this time,” he told him. "She won’t have the support she had before. She's going to be outnumbered and surrounded.” If he's lucky, Sookmyung’s paranoia will cause her to lash out and behave rashly.

“And she’ll have you to contend with now,” added Seonghwa with a small grin.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” interjected Advisor Junhan, “But you were a concubine for several years. I don’t think the people will-”

“-Hongjoong is the King of Wonju,” Seonghwa snapped. “He is the person the resistance wanted to lead them. He is a skilled swordsman, marksman, horse rider, and combat strategist. He knows Sookmyung just as well as anyone else in this room. If anybody could lead our armies to victory, it would be Hongjoong.”

“Us being her sex slaves will only endear us to the people more.”

It was Yunho who’d spoken. He stepped out from the shadowy doorway, pensive and serious. The healer. The physician. Yunho spent the past eight years personally attending to Sookmyung and her “flowers”. He’d also been the most kind-hearted of them all.

“Everything we know about Sookmyung is not a fact in the kingdom,” he continued. “Those who have witnessed her cruelty only saw a percentage of it. When word reaches the masses that everything they’ve ever heard about her is true, as possibly worse than they believed, they won’t be so hasty to follow her. Just because the dukes who betrayed us side with her does not mean their bannermen or lords under their rule will.”

“Are you suggesting we let the truth come out?”

“Why not? By morning, everyone will know YN is her sister and will be crowned the new queen soon. I think it will do well to tarnish Sookmyung’s reputation a bit further.”

“We could also let it be released that Sookmyung forced YN to participate in her wrongdoings,” Yeosang said from his window perch nearby. “It may cause them to sympathize with her.”

“YN will need all the support she can gather,” said Jisoo. “Sookmyung may have military strength, but the support of the people is a powerful thing. If they see YN is someone they can rally around, they will stand with her.”

Yes, they will. Hongjoong knew the people of Wonju will follow him, and if you’re his wife and he’s your king consort, they will follow you too.

“We must coronate YN as soon as possible,” insisted Wonshik. “The sooner we have a crown on her head and official documents in place, the sooner we can gain support.”

“And when do you suggest we do this, Wonshik?” asked Hongjoong with a challenge in his voice. “Tomorrow morning? We cannot stage a coronation in a day. Besides, a public event might put YN in harm’s way. No, it is too soon.”

“YN must be given time to take in all of this,” Chaewon said from behind Jisoo. “If I may, Your Grace, suggest that we take a small grace period in the meantime? The council can set coronation plans and we can focus on other matters.”

“Other matters?” questioned Hongjoong.

“There is also another event that needs attention,” Jisoo answered. “Your marriage.”

“I would rather we focus our efforts on Sookmyung-” he began, but she intervened.

“A marriage between Hanseong and Wonju will be the distraction we need to buy us time.”

“And an opportunity for her to strike,” he retorted. “I do not want YN anywhere that Sookmyung could reach her.”

“And neither do we,” she said. “The wedding will be held in the palace behind closed doors and heavily guarded, if that pleases you.”

He thought for a moment, then said, “Let us put this to rest for now. I’d like to discuss this further with YN present.”

You likely do not even know about the arrangement. He knew you'd gone through enough for one night, and he wouldn't make it worse. The council, Queen Jisoo and Chaewon left the harem at his dismissal, bowing to him before making their exit. It felt odd having people bow to him. There'd been a time in his life where everybody knew when he was entering or leaving a room. But, they hadn't done that for years. It would be another thing he must get used to again.

He turned to look at the men left in the room: Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, Wooyoung, San, and Jongho. He noticed they each held their veils in their hands. His hands clenched into fists whenever he wore the golden veil, which became a symbol of enslavement. He'd removed the red headband she'd given to single him out from the rest; a token of her affection, she’d claimed. Hongjoong knew better. Hongjoong withdrew the veil tucked into a pocket, and walked over to a nearby brazier. Hongjoong examined the long, sheer material dotted in gold and silver pieces. He remembered when Sookmyung gave it to him.

"You're mine now," he said to himself, recalling that moment in her tent. "And everyone will know it."

Hongjoong thought of his dead mother, laying lifeless and bloody on the floor of their family room. Sookmyung told him if his men laid down their arms, she'd spare his mother and siblings. She didn't. She cut them down without hesitation. Hongjoong's heart ached in his chest, and he breathed deeply. Sookmyung took everything from him: his family, his life, and his dignity. He replayed every awful moment in his mind, and swallowed back his tears. Running his thumb over the smooth jewels, taking in their shape and size, he realized he'd never wear this again. Even if somehow they lost, and she reclaimed her throne, he'd rather die than be her slave. He'll never wear this veil or this headband again. Angrily, Hongjoong threw the two articles into the fire. Standing by the fire, he watched the silk start to singe at the edges. The veil's mesh material began curling outward in certain parts. It felt cleansing, standing beside the burning coals and watching his chains melt. He is his own person.

Then another veil joined the fire. Then another, another, and another. Soon, all eight veils burned in the fire. Hongjoong glanced up to see tears welled up in Yeosang and Yunho's eyes, while Jongho and Seonghwa remained as stoic as himself. They're free now. They might not know what their futures hold, but they are their own men again.

"We will not be slaves again," he promised them, gulping the lump in his throat. "I swear it."

He felt a hand grab his gently, long fingers sliding between his own. Hongjoong looked to see tears escaping Seonghwa's lashes, falling down his cheeks to his sharp jawline. He couldn't help wiping them away with his sleeve.

"You'll never wear those masks again," he told him.

"I'd die first," said Jongho stiffly, gazing into the fire with watery eyes. "I'll slit my own throat before being her property again."

"Do not say such insane things," Yeosang frowned, taking his hand in his own.

"The only throat I want to slit is hers," Wooyoung said through gritted teeth, hands curling into fists at his sides. "She's hurt too many people to stay alive. She's too dangerous." He looked up at Hongjoong, "We have to win, we must stop her."

"We will," he assured him, unable to stop his own tears now.

He stared at them as they cried in the flames. Hongjoong vowed to succeed.

They must succeed.

****

Waking up the next morning felt surreal. You thought you might be lying somewhere between reality and sleep before you sensed a presence near your bed. Panic immediately struck you, and you clutched the sheets around you. The image of Sookmyung standing over your bed, eyes blazing with fury and holding a long knife made you tremble. You knew they wouldn't find her. Sookmyung always got her way, regardless of who she killed to get it. A thousand pleas for mercy bundled in your throat, and you screamed when you felt a hand touch your shoulder.

"Your Majesty, your Majesty!" a soft, gentle voice said over your panicked screams. You swatted at the figure, eyes closed to avoid meeting her eyes.

"Get away! Get away!" you cried, your heart pounding in your ears as the person managed to grab hold of your arms.

Then you felt somebody else at your opposite side, and you moved away from them. It took several minutes to register the white hanboks and the worried expressions of Sookmyung's former handmaidens. Aro, Saehee, Boram, and Dasom stood all around the bed, a bit frightened but mostly concerned. You never realized how similar the women looked. Short and skinny, Sookmyung made them wear their hair in long braids with the red colored daeng'gi at the end. In their pure white hanbok, they became almost indistinguishable. Sookmyung did this on purpose. Not only would she stand out against their white backdrop, but also stand taller and therefore appear more intimidating. Heat filled your cheeks, and you tucked a piece of hair behind your head, feeling embarrassed.

"Forgive me," you coughed, sitting up properly and covering your chest. "I...I didn't..."

"It's alright, Your Majesty," soothed Saehee. The eldest of the four, you often put her in charge of managing the other handmaidens in your absence. She sat beside you, taking your clammy hand in hers, "It's only us here. Nobody is going to hurt you."

"We wanted to see you," admitted Aro. Only fourteen-years-old, you'd spent a good amount of time training her to serve Sookmyung, but she still made mistakes as children do. Something Sookmyung did not forgive easily. "We heard what happened yesterday, and wanted to see if you were alright."

"I had breakfast brought for you," Boram told you, taking a seat on the bed. "You hadn't eaten properly since yesterday, and I knew you'd be hungry." Boram, always considerate and motherly in that sense. Due to her close relationship with the chef's son and her culinary knowledge, you let her handle Sookmyung's meals.

You supposed she'd be preparing your meals now.

“Did you know Mingi and San are outside your door?" whispered Dosam, who crawled onto the bed close to you. "I think they've been there all night." Dosam, while sweet, never hesitated to indulge in gossip. You knew Sookmyung often used her as a spy in the servant's quarters, but Dosam usually lied or told a half-truth. "They almost didn't let us in until we said Queen Jisoo ordered us to come here."

"It's like they didn't trust us!" huffed Boram, arms crossed. "What did they think we'd do? Strangle you?"

"I'm sure they meant no offense, Boram," you assured her. "They're only being cautious." You looked at Dosam, "Did they find her?"

They all shook their heads, and dread filled your stomach. Sookmyung was likely already out of the city, plotting your death as you sit there. You hugged your sheets around your torso, and shuddered. She knew all the passageways into the palace, and you're sure her allies across the city would help her. She could come at any moment, drag you into the dungeon, and torture you to death. The phantom sensation of nails being pulled from your fingers or needles pierced into your skin one by one sickened you. She'd delight in throwing you into The Box, since your discomfort of it amused her. The possibility caused you to flinch at Saehee's touch again.

"But you're safe here," she insisted, rubbing your back gently, "Hongjoong will make sure you're safe."

"Hongjoong?"

"Yes, he's been working closely with the advisors and Queen Jisoo," said Dosam. "I saw him with the Queen when she summoned us to her apartments. They looked like they were having a pretty serious conversation if you ask me.”

"Was my mother there?"

The women paused for a moment. "Which one?" asked Boram, cautiously.

You then remembered the most shocking part of the whole evening. All the confusion from the previous night returned, and added itself into the anxiousness rolling in your stomach. Queen Jisoo and King Siwon were your birth parents. They'd given you to their servants to keep a succession dispute. They'd done it in vain, since it is happening regardless of their efforts. You tried thinking of happy moments you had with the king and queen, but you only saw your mother and father when you did. Chaewon sang you lullabies whenever you had nightmares. Hyungshik always brought you pretty flowers or stones he'd found while tending to the gardens. They made sure you always ate well, and kept up with your studies. You knew you could turn to them in uncertain times. You didn't feel that way with Queen Jisoo, even if she was always kind and considerate of you.

"My mother," you repeated a bit more firmly. "Park Chaewon."

"She's with the queen," said Saehee.

"She was sitting with her and Hongjoong," Dosam told you.

"Did you hear what they were talking about?" asked Aro.

"No," she shook her head. "They stopped talking when I entered the room." You then saw the wayward glance she gave, "But I did hear them at the door."

"What did you hear?" you asked her, somewhat nervous to hear the answer.

Dosam did not answer right away. You recognized her hesitancy, since it was the same cower she'd give Sookmyung. She closed her eyes as if forced to say it, "They were talking about you marrying Hongjoong!"

Everyone on the bed gasped. You sat frozen in place, your brain trying to comprehend what she'd said. For a moment, you worried you may have heard her wrong. "What?"

"I heard Queen Jisoo say that a marriage between Wonju and Hanseong will be good for the future," she said hurriedly, "And that together you and Hongjoong can rebuild the kingdom."

"What? No...No, there's no way she's honestly considering..."

Hongjoong belonged to Sookmyung. He is her favorite flower, her most prized possession. If you married him, whatever plans she had will become especially heinous. Hongjoong's face came to the forefront of your mind. You thought about your conversation with him during the party. He'd told you that you worried so much about others, and rarely yourself. He'd said it in an amused tone, almost as if he found it cute. Hongjoong possibly thinking of you in any capacity outside of formality made your insides churn. You supposed a marriage between you made sense on paper, since he is a prince of Wonju and you're now a queen. But, thinking of marrying Hongjoong made your cheeks burn.

"He is handsome," Saehee noted, "And tender-hearted. I think he will make a fine husband."

"And he's a prince!" added Aro. "Now that Sookmyung isn't around, he can be a prince again."

"He's a king," Saehee corrected her. "His family is dead, right? That means he's King of Wonju now."

"Do you think you'll be his queen consort?" she asked you, bright eyed.

"Maybe," you shrugged. "I'm meant to be the Queen of Hanseong. I don't think we can both marry if we have separate thrones. Who will look over Wonju, if Hongjoong is far away?"

“They can find somebody," Saehee said. "You never know. Perhaps he has a cousin or distant relative somewhere who can handle Wonju for him?"

"Perhaps."

Marrying Hongjoong was meant to be a fantasy of yours. Thinking about being his wife, his closest friend, and confidant was supposed to remain in your head. You'd do your best to avoid looking at or talking to him because you know if you did, you'd fall deeper in love with him. It's similar to your feelings for Seonghwa, who showed you gentleness and reassurance last night. You knew showing too much attention towards them would upset Sookmyung. With her out of way, and word of a possible marriage in the air, the possibilities felt endless.

“Let us get you dressed,” concluded Saehee. “The Queen wishes to speak with you.”

“I can dress myself, Saehee,” you told her, wrapping yourself in the sheets and fixing your hair from your face. “It’s not necessary.”

“You’re going to be The Queen,” she said. “A queen always has handmaidens.”

“Unless…” Aro fiddled with the ribbon in her hair, “You wish to dismiss us?”

You saw the uncertainty show on their faces. None of them looked directly at you, and you frowned.

“Of course, I wouldn’t dismiss any of you,” you implored. “Why would I do such a thing? We have gone through so much together, and I care about each of you deeply.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “You might not wish to have a stupid cry baby as you handmaiden,” she sniffled, and you saw her eyes water. “I’m always so clumsy and-”

“-And when have I shown annoyance at that?” you asked her gently. “When?”

“Never,” she sniffed. “You’re always so kind and patient with me.”

“I’m not a virgin!” Boram blurted out. When you all whipped your heads to her, she winced. “I’m not. I have not been for a long time. I knew the punishment for that, so I never said anything, but I am now. Vernon and I are in love,” she said to you in particular, “And he wants to marry me. I hope that it won’t upset or displease you.”

“Not at all,” you told her, taking her hand in your own. “You are not my property. All of you are free to love and marry freely.” You stood up from the bed, standing straight as you said, “My first order to all of you is to live as you wish. You are all going to remain my handmaidens, but you can do what you please outside of your duties. Wear whatever hanbok you like. Wear your hair however you wish. You belong to yourselves, not me.”

Their smiles lifted your spirits. You picked at the breakfast Boram placed in front of you while she and Dosam prepared a bath nearby. As good as it tasted, you found it hard to enjoy the food. Sookmyung slowly crept her way back into your mind, and you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking of her. Where did she go when she ran from the city guards? Who housed her right now? Did they know she liked to eat before she bathed? That she liked her soup piping hot, and her rice cooked to the perfect softness? You pitied whoever they put in charge of attending her. The poor girl won’t know the danger until it comes. You thought of the serving girl from a few nights ago who’d accidentally spilled wine. The girl lived, but you remember the long lashes on her bare skin and her painful sobs. Sookmyung found pleasure in her pain, but you did not.

“Your Majesty,” Saehee appeared from the hall with a long box and you immediately shook your head.

“-No, I won’t wear that,” you stopped her. “I won’t wear anything that’s hers.” It sounded almost like bringing yourself bad luck.

“This isn’t hers,” the woman insisted. “Queen Jisoo said she had some of her old hanboks stored away, and she thought you may like this one.”

“Oh…”

You watched her remove the top lid as you finished your breakfast. Red with gold cranes circled on the shoulders, several royal seals were painted into the long draped sleeves. The royal dragon emblem was part of the sash over the top coat; pond scenes with cranes and flowers painted along the stripes down the skirt. You recognized it at once. Queen Jisoo wore it at the last royal event she attended before King Siwon’s passing. She’d look regal and elegant. You spotted the same floral pins she’d worn in her hair that day, tucked into the braided bun at the nape of her neck.

“She wants me to wear this?” you asked, reaching forward to touch the soft satin fabric.

“Yes,” she nodded. “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”

She’d chosen this one for a reason. If there’s anyone you should be emulating, it should be The Peoples’ Queen, Queen Han Jisoo. You left the bed for the bath, sinking into the warm water and beginning to scrub yourself. Dosam moved to take the sponge from you, but you held it from her.

“I can bathe myself, Dosam,” you told her with a soft giggle.

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

The words sounded weird when directed at you. You enjoyed the jasmine scented water as you contemplated the day. People everywhere must know the truth by now. What would things be like when you left the safety of this room? You finished your bath quickly, though you knew you could’ve taken as long as you wanted, and began drying and dressing yourself. Before you could pick up the undergarment layers, Saehee snatched it first.

“Let us at least dress you,” she said. “You’re a queen now. It’s considered an honor to attend to royalty.”

Was it? You certainly never felt honored when you dressed Sookmyung. Still, you allowed the four women to dress you. With each piece they slid onto you, you felt yourself slowly melting away. You’d never worn such finery before, and wearing the eoyeo meori felt different. Slowly, YN the Handmaiden became YN the Queen, and you didn’t know if you liked the queen yet. Sitting in front of the long mirror, looking yourself over as Dosam finished applying lip paint, you realize this is something you’ll be doing every morning. It didn’t matter if you wanted this or not. You must go through with this now, or otherwise all the effort put into it will be in vain.

“You look magnificent,” smiled Aro, who stood aside to look at you. “Hongjoong won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

“I don’t look like myself,” you touched the smooth skirt between your fingers. “I don’t feel like myself.”

“It’ll take some adjustment, I expect,” assured Saehee. “But, a nice hanbok and a wig doesn’t mean you’re not still YN. You’re YN with a title, that’s all.”

You didn’t know how to explain that it’s more than that. Your sole responsibilities used to only be the handmaidens and Sookmyung. As a queen, everyone in the kingdom is your responsibility. How can you possibly accommodate and please so many people? Particularly people once ruled over by fear and anguish. You liked to think you had your mother, the advisors and Jisoo helping you. They wouldn’t allow you to fail.

“Think of all the good things you can do now that you’re queen,” Aro said, smiling. “You can help so many people.”

You knew she meant well, but that only filled you with more dread.

“And you’ll have Hongjoong beside you,” Dosam smirked, “He’s quite fond of you. I don’t think he’d let you fail.”

‘Fond of you’. Was he? Yes, Hongjoong made kind passive gestures towards you before, but nothing indicating ‘fondness’. As they led you out of your dressing room, you couldn’t imagine Hongjoong being ‘fond’ of you. Every time you thought of his soft giggle or the crinkle of his eyes, Sookmyung's face came up right behind it. You thought of his lips lightly brushing against yours, one hand holding your hand and the other around your waist. He’d taste like mint and smell of cinnamon, a combination that would unravel you in seconds, melting any guard you may have up around him. Hongjoong and you may have not spoken often, yet you could not help imagining that fondness being present.

“Good morning, Your Majesty.”

Seonghwa stood in the main room of the harem with San and Mingi. Yeosang, Yunho, Wooyoung and Jongho all sat around, enjoying a light breakfast spread put out for them. They all stood from their seats when you entered, and you immediately remembered you’d fallen asleep in the harem. Embarrassment filled your cheeks, and you did your best not to look away.

“I’d ask if you slept well,” he said, “But I’m afraid not many of us did.”

“I slept well,” you replied. You felt his eyes taking in every inch of your face, and this did not stop the daydreams from expanding further. Seonghwa and Hongjoong. Sookmyung could have two lovers. Why couldn’t you? “Thank you. I assume it was my mother who asked you to keep watch over me?”

“In fact, it was Hongjoong who insisted we keep you here,” he answered, “I only seconded it.” He approached you, “They’re waiting for you in Queen Jisoo’s residence. San and Mingi are sleeping off their guard duty, but Wooyoung, Yunho and myself will walk you there.”

“What about the other palace guards?”

“Hongjoong said he wasn’t comfortable with any of Sookmyung’s old guards watching over you,” he said. “We’ll be watching over you until you’ve chosen a suitable guard for yourself.”

“Does that displease you, Your Majesty?”

Wooyoung asked this with worry in his voice. You stared at him for a moment. His slim build made it easy for him to slip between trees and scurry through dense bushes like a shadow. You remembered Sookmyung complaining about how he can be so loud, but still able to pass through unnoticed. It’d taken them a week to find him when he’d escaped camp during the war. He’d also been the hardest for Sookmyung to break.

“Not at all, Wooyoung,” you answered him honestly. “I don’t believe I’d feel comfortable around anyone who pledged allegiance to Sookmyung, to be truthful.”

You then noticed the most obvious thing about the men: they did not wear their veils. They’d rid themselves of their shackles, and you smiled softly at them. “Shall we go now?” you asked, taking a timid step forward, “I don’t wish to keep my mother or The Queen waiting any longer.”

“Of course, when you wish, Your Majesty.”

Right. You’re meant to lead. Taking another step, you kept putting one foot in front of the other as the group followed you outside. Yunho and Wooyoung walked ahead, wearing swords at their sides and no longer hiding their faces behind veils. Your handmaidens flanked you, keeping their heads down, while Seonghwa came into step beside you.

“May I accompany you there, Your Majesty?” he asked.

“Yes,” you nodded. “It’s still so odd.”

“What is?”

“To be called ‘Your Majesty’,” you said. “It feels…wrong. It doesn’t suit me.”

“You’re the queen. It’s your title.”

“I still don’t know if I like it.”

“Then, what do you wish to be called?” he asked, “Give me a title and I’ll gladly call you by it.”

You gave it a thought, “Hm, I don’t know.”

“Alright, ‘I-Don’t-Know’,” he smirked, giving you an amused smile.

You laughed at his joke, some of the tension inside you deflating as you reached the harem entrance. The world felt different to you, but you weren’t sure how. You thought you might have woken up in a dream, and you’ll wake up any moment.

“I imagine it will take a while to adjust,” he said when you reached the palanquin. “A lot has changed overnight, and it must be a lot to take in for you.”

“It is,” you admitted with a sigh. You anxiously picked at the inside of your sleeve, standing in front of the palanquin. It wasn’t Sookmyung’s palanquin. Hers had been larger. “Hongjoong is with my mother?”

“He is,” he nodded. “He went ahead with her to talk to the advisors and discuss our next move. I’m sure they’ll inform you once you arrive.”��

He let you climb into the palanquin first, then followed you in. Being in a close, intimate space with Seonghwa put you on edge. Light whiffs of sandalwood came from his clothes, which you came to enjoy very quickly. Once the footmen began moving towards the queen’s residency, you spoke.

“Has he slept at all?”

“A bit,” he said. “As I said, not all of us slept very well. The guards are still combing the city for Sookmyung, and word about last night is beginning to spread outside the capital. I imagine everyone will know about you, Sookmyung, and the throne by week’s end.” When saw the anxiousness in your face, he added, “I’m sorry this has happened so quickly, YN, and that you’re not being given sufficient time to adjust. It isn’t fair to anyone, but most of all you.”

“Thank you, Seonghwa,” you gave a soft smile, trying not to notice his round eyes gazing so intently at you. “Thank you for being here.”

“You’re my queen now,” he grinned, “I will be wherever you wish me to be.”

You smiled for a moment, before it instantly faded. “What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned. “Did I say something to offend you?”

“No, no, forgive me. It’s not you,” you insisted. “It’s…” you sighed, “Even with her gone, I still see you as hers. She kept you at such a far distance that it’s almost as if she still owns you.”

“She doesn’t,” he said firmly. “And she doesn’t own you either. We are our own people now. We can be whoever we choose to be,” he then added, “And be with whoever we wish.”

You bit your inner cheek to keep from smiling.

*****

A/N: I'm super sorry I kept everyone waiting so long in between chapters! My mental health, work, and life things really just kept me from really focusing on a single project at a time. I hope this chapter makes up for it! <3

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #ateez x reader #seongjoong x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #ateez fluff #ateez smut

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freedomfireflies · 1 year

Text

The Mine Masterlist

MafiaBoss!Harry x You

*Contains Mature and Explicit content, so please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*

~ Mine* (Pt. 1)

Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession. But he's found the perfect way to make it right.

~ Ours* (Pt. 2)

Harry has arranged a phone-call with one of his most notorious enemies. Lucky for you, you’ve got a front row seat to the show. His cock.

~ Yours* (Pt. 3)

Harry is out of town when you need him most. And Harry is never one to leave you unsatisfied. So, he calls in his right-hand man to help.

~ Theirs* (Pt. 4)

Harry has returned home after being away. The first thing on his agenda? Your punishment.

~ Hers* (Final Part)

Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has made you a deal. Two cocks for the price of one. He'll share you with Asher. For one night. And one night only. And all you have to do? Be good and take it.

The Extras:

~ Remedy*

You've been feeling a little empty and needy lately. Thankfully, your mafia boss boyfriend happens to have the perfect remedy.

~ Pillowtalk*

Save a horse, ride a pillow. Turns out, Harry isn't always so forgiving.

~ Red*

The one where your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, comes home covered in wounds and bruises. And the sight is more than you can handle.

(CW: Use of a safeword!)

~ Lost

Harry's worst nightmare has finally come true: You've been taken. And he plans to do everything in his power to find you.

~ Found

The one where Harry has to put you in danger in order to keep you safe.

~ Home

The one where your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has finally gotten you back. But everything is about to change.

~ Scream* (Halloween Extra)

The one where your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, plans out a Fall Day of Fun. Scary movies included.

The Blurbs:

~ The one where Harry makes you ride his thigh in the middle of a crowded restaurant*

~ The one where Harry is determined to make you pay, Christmas Trees be damned*

~ The one where you aren't feeling so hot and Harry and Asher just want to help*

#harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry edward styles #mafiarry #mafia!harry #harry styles mafia #harry and asher #masterlist #harry styles masterlist

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xzaddyzanakinx · 7 months

Text

I So, So, Right I pt.4

Stepbro! Anakin × innocent reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: smut, inappropriate relationships, oral sex, public/semi-public, demeaning/condescending words toward reader, fingering, dom/sub dynamics, dd/lg dynamics (implied), daddy kink

Info: Modern AU, Anakin is whipped, Anakin literally worships the ground you walk on, reader is accidentally a brat, reader has oral fixation

NOT PROOFREAD

The next few hours of your day were agonizingly boring, you had already paced around the entire house, called your friend to confirm she was still up for your hangout tomorrow, and taken a shower just to have something to do. Your hair wrapped up in a towel and a thin robe wrapped around your frame as you wondered back into the kitchen.

Opening and closing the fridge in hopes that the next time you open it a yummy treat will have magically manifested. Unfortunately the fridge had failed to conjure something, anything appetizing so you settled for leftover lasagna.

With your belly full you retired to your room, scanning your bookshelf and selecting a classic. Tossing it on the bed before digging through your dresser for something comfortable to wear.

“Cozy.” You mumbled to yourself as you pulled out some fuzzy shorts, pushing aside everything else to find the matching shirt.

Huffing in aggravation you slipped on your underwear and the shorts while making the trip from your room to Anakin’s. It wasn’t uncommon for your clothes to get misplaced, sometimes when Anakin puts away the laundry he gets -alittle- impatient with folding. So he often ends up scooping what’s left in the basket into his arms and dropping it in the nearest dresser drawer.

Shuffling through the clothes you felt your hand touch something cool, curious to see what it was you pulled it from its hiding place. It seemed to be a trinket box, a deep blue hard plastic box with a very small latch. You popped it open and immediately recognized some of the items inside.

Movie ticket stubs, rocks you’d collected, the fancy coaster from the restaurant where you’d first met. A box of memories, a box of all things you. Your heart swelled as you picked up the items immediately remembering each moment connected to each precious keepsake.

At the bottom of the shallow box you found one thing that was unfamiliar. A tiny black velvet drawstring bag, hesitant to open it since you’d already invaded his privacy by opening the box in the first place. But what’s the harm right? You’d come this far… might as well take a look.

Carefully opening the bag, you turned it upside down above your open palm. Two metallic items clanked together as they fell into your hand. A simple but elegant ring and a tiny pendant meant for a dainty necklace. You clapped your hand over your mouth with the bag still between your fingers.

Hurriedly tucking the precious jewelry safely back into the bag and arranging the items in the box in the same places you’d found them. You tucked it back into its hiding place, shoving the drawer shut as if it burned you. Shaking out your hands you opened the next drawer and saw the shirt you were looking for laying right on top. Why couldn’t you have opened that one first?

Though the questions you really wanted to ask were ‘Why is his mother’s engagement ring in a box filled with things meant to represent you?’ ‘Where did the pendant come from? Who did it belong to?’

It had been two hours since your discovery and your nerves had finally subsided. You willed your mind to tuck those thoughts into the crevasses of your brain. It’s a trinket box, of course he’d put things like that in there! How silly of you to react in such a way!

You’d tried to read to put your focus into something else, but the words melted together on every page. You groaned in frustration, if only you’d done your own laundry last time! You wouldn’t have ever had a reason to dig through his clothes and you would’ve never seen the box.

Pressing the heel of your palms into your eyes and scrubbing until you saw colored dots. A nap. Yes, that’s what you need. A nice little nap to forget about your invasion of privacy and the troublesome things you’d discovered because of it.

You hopped up to close the curtains then got right back in bed. Pulling the blanket up to your neck and tucking your favorite stuffed animal under your arm, you tried your best to let sleep consume you.

Your blankets rustled, the mattress dipping under the weight of someone slipping into bed with you. Stirring slightly at the feeling of warm skin against your back, a hand stroking your upper arm slowly brought you back to consciousness. Your eyes adjusted to the dark room, only lit by the evening’s sun beams sneaking around your curtains and the bathroom light. Revealing the most beautiful soft smile on the lips of your love.

“Little sleepyhead.” He whispered, pressing his soft plump lips to your forehead.

You breathed in deeply, tucking yourself under his arm and pressing your nose to his neck. Drowning in the scent of his freshly washed hair and still damp body.

“Have you been home long?” You yawned.

“Nah, just about an hour. I didn’t wanna wake you up just yet so I had a bite to eat and a shower.” He nuzzled into your hair, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head.

“You were gone soooo looong.” You groaned, “I was so bored.”

“My poor girl.” He laughed.

“Don’t make fun of me!” You pouted, pulling back to see his grinning face.

He leaned forward quickly to catch your protruding bottom lip between his teeth. Scrunching his nose and pulling gently, after releasing your lip he placed a soothing kiss over it.

“But it’s so fun.” He laughed.

“Yeah, for you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey, no attitude.” He raised his eyebrows in a challenge, while his gaze stayed stern.

“M’sorry.” Looking up at him with puppy eyes.

“I know you are princess.” he smoothed your hair back, twirling a lock around his finger and bringing it up to tickle your nose.

Something about his tone of voice, how he sounded so confident in that statement, made heat pool between your legs. You felt your cheeks blush, stomach swirling with nerves. Just as you were forming a sentence through the muddy waters of your mind, a noise made you both jump.

“Shit.” Anakin scrambled out of the bed, an obvious erection tenting his loose boxers.

It was Obi-Wan, treading down the hall, quickly glancing at your bedroom door you realized it was unlocked. Anakin had slipped into the bathroom, closing the door as quietly as possible. You laid there, frozen in confusion, why had he run away like that?

Though you didn’t have too much time to wonder, because Obi-Wan’s fist was knocking on your door.

“Come in.” You said, leaning over to turn on your lamp light.

“Hey,” he peeked in, “you feelin’ okay?”

“Mhm, I was just tired is all.” You answered, sitting up.

“Sorry to wake you sweets, your mom sent me up, dinner is ready. Do you know where-“ he started, interrupted by Anakin’s hand coming down on his shoulder.

“There he is!” He laughed, bringing an arm across his body to ruffled his -now fully dressed- son’s hair.

Anakin gave you a sly wink over Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Reaching around to flick on your over head light, flashing it a few times for good measure and earning a light scolding from his dad.

“C’mon, leave her be.” Obi-Wan laughed, headed back down the hall.

Anakin stayed in your doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.

“You heard the man, gotta leave ya be.” He shrugged, hiding a smile.

“Don’t say things like that!” You threw the nearest weapon you could find, a stuffed animal.

He caught it effortlessly, tossing it to the floor, his playful attitude dwindling. He walked over to you, holding his hand out for you to take. You accepted and let him pull you out of the bed, enveloping you in what would’ve been a sweet and comforting embrace if not for the words he whispered in your ear.

“Are you trying to get in trouble?” His lips brushing your earlobe, “cause it seems like you are.”

“N-no! No I don’t want to!” You whisper shouted, eyebrows turned up in concern.

“My little good girl,” he tutted, gripping the back of your neck, “turned bratty the minute I showed you how I could make you feel.”

His face buried in the gentle slope of your neck, his fingers intwined in your hair tugging gently. His free hand sliding down your back to grip your ass and knead the doughy flesh. His tongue darting out to glide along the soft flesh, drawing a mewl from your eager body.

“I-I’m not a br-brat.” You protested, feeling weak in the knees already.

“Yeah you are.” He growled, pulling your head back by your hair, “but you’re my brat.”

A whimper escaped you, earning a dark chuckle from Anakin.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’ll help you be good again.” He released you from his strong hands.

“You will?” You asked, hopeful, disappointed with yourself for misbehaving.

“Of course babydoll.” He grinned, pointer finger hooked under your chin. “That’s what Daddy’s here for.”

Oh fuck, a gush of slick dripped from your cunt, wetting your panties. Daddy? Your eyes widened, in awe of how Anakin saying just one word could make you feel so, so many things all at once. He had a knowing look on his face, as if he expected this to be your response. His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you with him down the hall.

Dinner concluded without any hiccups, that was until your mother suggested a ‘family movie night’. You couldn’t really say no, Anakin had bumped your foot and very slightly shook his head when you began to protest. Catching you at the sink where you stood scraping off the bits from your plate.

“If we both told them no they’d be suspicious.” He whispered, a hand sneaking to your plump backside, rubbing soothing circles with his knuckles.

“Why?” You asked, hearing the clink of your plate against the silverware in the sink.

“Baby,” he drew the word out, pain in his eyes, “you know we can’t let anyone find out about us.”

“But why?” You pouted, crossing your arms and stomping one foot.

His expression hardened at your defiance which you quickly recognized, fixing your posture and dropping your arms.

“Good girl.” He nodded, adding a sigh, “they won’t understand. No one would understand.”

“Is that why you ran away earlier?” You questioned, his hand coming up to rest against your cheek.

“I want to shout from the rooftops and let everyone know just how much I love you, but I can’t.” He pulled you in close for a tight embrace, cradling your head to his chest protectively.

A soft sniffle met his ears and his heart broke, shattered to a million pieces. This was so selfish of him and he knew it, he knew the consequences, he knew it was wrong. He couldn’t help it though, not when it comes to you. You with the gorgeous smile, the laugh that reminded him of fairy bells, the softness of your voice when you spoke to him in the cover of night.

That’s all you’d be able to enjoy, love under the blanket of darkness.

“Please don’t cry.” He whined and squeezed you tighter, “please, I can’t stand it.”

You simply nodded, rubbing your eyes and nose against his chest to wipe away the tears.

“I’ll find a way.” His voice strong and resolute, “I’ll make sure of it, I promise.”

You both had missed the sound of slippered feet on the kitchen tile, only being alerted to the presence of another person when they let out a sharp breath. You felt Anakin’s muscles tighten, his heart quicken under the warm fabric of his shirt.

He was wracking his brain, to find an excuse and settling on the first thing that surfaced in the waters of panic. He twisted his body and yours in the direction of the noise, you could feel his chest heave in relief. He lifted his arm and brought his finger to his lips, half mouthing and half whispering to his father.

“Boy problems.” He wasn’t lying, he was just omitting that he was the offending boy.

Obi-wan tutted, coming forward to place a loving hand between your shoulders.

“It’ll be alright. Let’s go get your mind off it huh?” He suggested, motioning to the living room.

You peeled yourself out of Anakin’s arms, allowing him to guide you to the living room, taking a seat on the plush carpet in front of the couch.

“I’ll get your mind off it.” He whispered, nipping your earlobe.

You giggled through one more sniffle, and Anakin left your side to grab two throw blankets. Throwing one over you and tucking himself under the other, with his back leaned against the front of the couch he took the remote and flipped through the streaming services.

With your parents settling in above you, you managed to enjoy your time. But of course, half way through the movie you let your head fall back against the couch cushion. Soon after your eyes fluttered closed, Anakin smiled softly at the sound of your tiny snores.

You were jostled around, feeling arms scooping you up. Anakin’s forearm hooked beneath your butt to support your weight and his other pressing your upper body to his securely. You stirred halfway through the journey up the stairs.

“Hmm?” You sleepily took in your surroundings.

“Shh baby, I’m just taking you to bed.” He whispered, pushing open the bedroom door, momentarily removing his arm to lock the door.

Gently he laid you down, rolling you to your side. Hazily opening your eyes you recognized that this was not your bed and you were not in your room. Anakin had put you in his bed, and he was now walking through the bathroom to your room, locking the door in there as well.

You sat up, yawning and wiping the sleep from your eyes, groggy but conscious enough to speak when he re-entered his room.

“M’sorry I fell asleep.” You mumbled, holding out your arms and flapping your hands to beckon him closer.

He of course happily obliged, shedding his tshirt and pants on his way. Slipping into the bed next to you with a comforting hand to your cheek which you gratefully leaned into.

“My poor baby.” He cooed, leaning in to kiss the sleep away.

His lips slotted against yours and you tentatively returned the kiss, soon allowing him to deepen it when your body begged your brain to catch up. Snaking your arms around his neck earned a groan from his lips that were wrapped around your tongue, sucking gently.

Without breaking contact with your sweet mouth he pushed you into the mattress so that he was hovering above you. He spread your legs with a bump of his knee and you eagerly obeyed, allowing him to lower himself against your heated core. A sinful moan of yours was trapped in his mouth when pressed his already throbbing length into the apex of your thighs.

“Just woke up and already begging for my touch.” He snickered, sloppy kisses along your jawline as he snuck his hands under your shirt.

He placed a firm hand on your breast, palming and massaging it while using the other to guide your shirt over your head. With both breasts exposed he descended on them, peppering them with hungry kisses, suckling and nibbling on both nipples, unable to let one go without his attention for too long.

Keening and rolling your hips against him as he attacked your chest provided not relief at all, your body screaming for his eager mouth to travel lower.

“Ani.” You whined, pushing his shoulders gently.

“Not now sweet girl.” He mumbled against your supple flesh.

He smiled as he brought his teeth back down to the gentle slope of your breast, biting and closing his lips around you, tongue flicking against the skin once he released it from his teeth. He let his hands roam, exploring every inch of you. Making sure to find your hand often and give you a reassuring squeeze. His mouth finally delved lower, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake while it traveled the expanse of your abdomen.

“Gotta taste my sweet little pussy.” He groaned, hooking his finger in the waistband of your shorts and yanking them down your legs along with your panties.

The animalistic noise he made when he spread your cunt open for him to see was nothing short of pornographic. Just the sound of him pining over your wetness was enough to make your hole flutter around nothing, making you feel hopelessly empty.

“Please Anakin, please I need it.” You begged.

“Need what princess?” He teased, his hot breath blowing against your cunt.

“Ani!” You pouted, slamming your fists down on either side of you.

“Hey.” He said in a gruff voice, warning you.

You stayed silent, gazing into his softening eyes, hoping your stare would be enough to sway him into giving you what you wanted. Slowly he did, introducing his lips first, chaste kisses from your mound down to your dripping hole. The tip of his tongue retracing those steps to elicit a soft and drawn out ‘oh’ from your kiss swollen mouth.

He gently delved deeper into your folds, humming at the taste of you. It was as if he enjoyed this more than you did if that was possible. From the way his breathing got heavier and the death grip he held on your hips you’d think he was the one writhing beneath you. Eating you wouldn’t be a good enough descriptor, he was - devouring- you, insatiable and aggressive.

His hot wet tongue breached your pussy and dove as deeply as possible, moaning in sync with you. His grip of your hips loosened, freeing up his thumbs to press into your hips, massaging them in circles, adding another layer of pleasure for you. You couldn’t help the trashing of your body, your fist abused by your own teeth and you bit down in hopes to stifle your cries.

“So good baby,” he groaned, suckling your clit, “doing so fuckin’ good f’me.”

“Mhm!” You squirmed, “I wanna be good for you Ani.”

“Shit. I’ll cum before you do if you keep talking like that.” He shivered, rutting into the bed.

He couldn’t let that happen, he needed your cum, he needed his lips coated in your juices like he needed air to breathe. He doubled down, rolling your clit between his teeth in such a way that the white heat in your lower stomach flashed with electricity, shocking your nerves with the sudden and harsh orgasm.

Your body convulsed as you buried your face into the pillow beside you. Painfully swallowing your cries, feeling your hot tears staining the softness of the pillow. Anakin lapped up everything you gave him, every drop coating his chin was licked up by his greedy tongue.

“God I could do this for hours.” He moaned, giving you no down time at all before starting again, the sensitivity made you hiss, kicking your legs involuntarily.

“M’not done.” He growled, holding your legs still.

He reached up beside you, taking the pillow from your face and folding it in half. Lifting your bottom with no effort and sliding the pillow under your lower back.

“What’re you doing?” You whined, trying to close your legs.

“Working this tight cunt open.” he moaned, his middle finger toying with your soaked core.

“Just one okay baby doll?” He asked, tearing his blown out pupils from your glistening cunt to look at you for permission.

Sighing in relief at your eager nod, he dipped the tip of his finger past your folds. Circling the hole gently, and moaning as he oh so slowly pushed into your virgin pussy.

“God.” He grunted through clenched teeth. “Look at my pretty pussy, all f’me.”

“All for you Ani.” You bucked up into his hand, begging for him to pump his thick digit into you.

“You want it? My baby girl wants me to fuck her open with my fingers?” He wasn’t asking, he was just trying to humiliate you.

“Yes!” You whimpered, clenching around him at his condescending tone.

“Squeezing me so tight darlin’.” He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Couldn’t even get another finger in.”

“Anakin, please.” You whined, “please I need more.”

At that he hooked his finger and began dragging the tip across the spongey wall of your pussy, drawing circles as he pumped in and out. Keening at the new sensation had you gripping the sheets hard enough to rip them.

“Can’t baby,” he moaned, “just gotta wait, be patient.”

“No. Anakin!” You whined, reaching down to grab his wrist.

His free hand blocking yours before you could even get halfway.

“Did you just tell me no?” He growled, you shook your head, desperate to shove those words back in your mouth and swallow them.

“You want more? Fine.” He said sternly, “I’ll give you more.”

He immediately started fucking his long digit into your soaked cunt with such fervor that you had to reach above you and grab the head board for support. Without missing a beat he came up from his resting position and towered over your small frame.

“Where did my sweet little girl go huh? It’s like you’re trying to get punished.” He sighed, as if disappointed.

Attacking your mouth with his, you could taste yourself on his tongue as it forced its way past your teeth.

And just like that, with your tongue trapped between his teeth to prevent you from screaming he wrapped his large hand around your neck, cutting off your air supply the second he felt your cunt clamp down on him. Drawing out your second orgasm with a ridiculous amount of force. Your thighs closing when he didn’t remove his hand, still pumping his finger at jackhammer pace.

“Don’t.” He broke away from your lips and wrenched your legs back apart. “You wanted more, so take it you fucking brat.”

“M’sorry Ani!” You whined, pulling him closer with your arms around his neck. “So sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

Anakin dove into your neck, sucking in the gentle slope near your shoulder. He was ignoring you in hopes you’d keep apologizing, as disgusting as it was he was getting off on the sounds of your worried voice, it made him feel powerful. You were just his little puppet right now, and he was your puppeteer.

“I wanna be your good girl, please!” You wrapped your legs around his waist. “Please don’t be mad with me Daddy, please I promise to be good.”

Just as he was feeling on top of the world with his baby girl trapped under his thumb, he was shrinking, melting from the one word you’d uttered like a prayer. His eyebrows shot up along with his head, eyes wide as he looked down at you. He softened immediately, and you held back a smirk now that you’d discovered this was his weakness.

“Oh my pretty baby,” he cooed, his hand caressing your side lightly, “you are a good girl.” He leaned down catching your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Really?” You sniffled.

“Yes really,” he sighed, “my baby doesn’t need punishment does she?”

You agreed, shaking your head with a pouty lip and gripping his sandy locks between your fingers.

“Just need Daddy’s cock don’t you baby doll?”

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#anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #sw anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x you #darth vader #darth vader smut #star wars #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #darth vader x you #darth vader x reader #skywalker family #star wars fanfiction #starwars fandom

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plutoswritingplanet · 3 months

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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x Female!Reader) pt.1

a/n: i had a "no bald men" rule before he licked a knife... so y'all know my priorities are in order. Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con (as per usual), Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atreides (it's just such a good prompt i couldn't help myself),

Summary: A month-long engagement to the na-Baron Harkonnen makes you question, whether a marriage can bloom on the grounds of hate. Loosely based on "Special Death" by Mirah.

Pt.2, Pt.3 Pt.4 (finale)

The message comes from the Emperor himself. An indisputable order that renders your Father speechless. You've never seen him quite as distraught, as when he has visited you in your chambers to deliver the news. Hands fidgeting, eyes refusing to meet yours, heavy shadows falling across his face. He seems to expect your reaction, not giving you as much as a flinch, when you scream your protests at him. And he should've expected as much, you were always the more impulsive of Duke Leto's children.

- But the Harkonnens are beasts - you argue, voice breaking - You've said it yourself, many times.

- Actually, I think that was Gurney...

- You've never denied it!

And he doesn't deny it now, head hung low. Never, not once in your life, have you seen your Father give up. Until today.

Your Mother enters just a few seconds after him, her dress flowing around her ankles as if she had floated in on a cloud. She stands to the side of your bed, hands folded, and an impassive expression embedded onto her features. And the more she speaks of the centuries of breeding, the importance of an union and the powers beyond your understanding, the less you see of your mother. What stands before you, instead, is a Bene Gesserit sister, veiled in schemes and dark plans, which were in the making before you were even born. You curse yourself for not noticing this stranger sooner, and storm off, out of your room, your shawl blowing out behind you like bat wings.

Paul doesn't visit you, but you can hear him, even through the effort of swallowing down your tears. He fights for you against your Father. He would fight for you against the whole Empire if he had to, and your heart swells, as he throws a particularly nasty curse into the air of your Father's study. It doesn't change anything. According to the decree of the Emperror, the oldest daughter of the Duke Leto Atreides will marry Feyd Rautha, an heir to the Baron Harkonnen. A centuries long dispute is about to be put to an end, and all thanks to the small sacrifice, which is your life. All would be well in the galaxy. Really, you should be honored, to be tasked with such a monumental peace treaty.

Everyone in the court seems to know about your situation. Mournful looks follow you, as you walk into the training barracks, ridding yourself of layers upon layers of flowing fabrics, leaving you in a rather tight costume, light enough to beat your frustrations out on someone.

Duncan Idaho meets your searching eyes, and you know he is aware as well. All it takes is one inclination of your chin, and he's up on his feet, sword in hand. Loyal as ever, he stands in front of you, watches with mixed feelings as you enable your shield, no questions asked. None needed.

He barely has time to put his defenses up, when you charge at him, fury and despair pushing your movements into stances which are clumsy and ill though out. Still, there's power within your strikes, a strength of someone who needs to move, unless they break. So he lets you, for a couple of minutes. He dodges your attacks, pairing some of them, never moving quite into the offense.

The rest of the soldiers scurry off somewhere, for which you will be thankful in the future. They might hear your cries of anger, but they will not see you break. They will not see the way your blade smashes into Duncan's shield over and over again, with no regard for the slow attacks, which would penetrate it. Likewise, they don't see your sparring partner fall to his knees and swipe you off your feet in a split-second movement, making you hit the floor with a frustrated snarl. And they don't see you finally give up, and cry, hugging your blade to your chest, the severity of your circumstance falling onto you, crushing you down.

- Never fight in anger, Princess - Duncan reminds you, voice cautious, and you growl at him like a wild animal - It dulls your instincts, makes you distracted.

- Did you know? - you demand, your sharp voice cutting through his half-assed lecture.

For a moment he looks truly remorseful. His eyes float around the room, and your heart sinks when he sighs deeply.

- I found out not long ago - he confesses - Your Father told me.

Your blade slides against the floor as you throw it, a raw scream tearing through your throat. Duncan takes a step towards you, hand extended towards your shaking form. But, before he can attempt to touch you, you're up, rolling your shoulders forcefully. Tears stain your cheeks, and you wipe them roughly with the back of your hand, skin becoming irritated almost instantly. There are swords laid out on a small table, just beside you, your fingers grip the cold handle so hard, your knuckles seem to creak under the pressure. Duncan readies himself as well, dusting off his trousers.

He's not good at comforting, but he's the best at fighting, and if that's what you need in this cold morning, he'll oblige.

- You'll make it through, you know - he says, his voice genuine, and you laugh without any mirth.

Your blades clash, faces coming closer as you absentmindedly notice small scars adorning his cheeks.

- You can adapt to anything - you strike against his shoulder, the shield pushes your blade away - We could send you to Arrakis right now, and a week later you'd be riding a damned Sandworm into battle.

To that, you laugh, this time your smile reaching your eyes. The idea is preposterous, but it renders your footsteps lighter, and you twist to dodge a nasty blow to the right arm. Duncan huffs a laugh as well, as you slip through his fingers. He points his blade in your direction, a smirk playing across his lips, and you bare your teeth in a playful display of wildness.

- Careful, Princess, you might scare your betrothed away - Duncan teases, as you roll your dagger in your hand.

- Scare a damned Harkonnen? Do you find me that intimidating? - the idea thrills you just a little bit, you're woman enough to admit it.

- I think you're fucking terrifying.

- Duncan Idaho, you better not be swearing at my Daughter.

Your face falls immediately, as your Father approaches the two of you, shooting Duncan a stern gaze which holds no real threat. Still, your sparring partner raises his hands, his blade tucked away safely into his belt. There's sweat clinging to your skin from all the training, mingling with drying tears on your cheeks, and Duke Leto tries very hard not to comment on your choice of processing recent events. Still, he nods at you, and like a good daughter, you put your blade away, walking from the barracks after him.

***

The Emperor has called for a traditional, Atreides engagement. A mercy, which you're eternally grateful for. You're not too aware of Harkonnen customs regarding marriage, but given the House's reputation, it couldn't have been pleasant. House Atreides however, took to such matters much more ceremonially, old-fashioned to some.

Soon, a ship is arriving, with your betrothed onboard, and a month-long courting period willcommence. After that, official engagement and soon after, a wedding. Then, you will be transported back on Geidis Prime, where a life of misery awaits. That's all the time you have. A month.

The dress, which was picked out for you, is uncomfortable and shows both too much and too little skin at the same time. While your legs are bare and exposed to an almost scandalous degree, a high, stiff collar nearly chokes the life out of you. This whole getup was the idea of your mother, as an attempt to highlight your best features and hide all that might be considered less desirable.

You have no idea what's wrong with your neck. Perhaps, by cutting off your airflow, your mother aimed to keep you docile.

She frowns deeply as you tug on the fabric, nerves climbing up your spine, growing more desperate every second. She swats at your hand, and you throw her a look. Out of the corner of your eye Paul smiles at your antics, your only consolation in this hopeless place.

- Stop fidgeting, you'll tear the dress - Lady Jessica scolds you, and you can sense actual worry underlining her stern voice.

The Harkonnen ship slowly glides into the atmosphere of your home planet, a black, awful thing. Like all things on Geidis Prime, dark and miserable. Soon, you'll join them, adorned in equally black and lifeless clothing, never to see your family again. Never to see the Ocean. Your nails bite into the collar of the dress, you can hear a stitch tear.

- Stop that.

Your hands fall uselessly against your body, as your mother uses the Voice on you. Wouldn't be the first time, you were quite the unruly daughter and Lady Jessica was determined to make a Lady out of you no matter the means. Still, this time, the unnatural tone feels more like a panicked plea, than a light-hearted scolding.

- Relax Mother - your voice is sharp, despite the slight tremble - In a months time I'll be gone from here forever, stuck in some blackened cell, wistfully sighing "ooh" "aah".

You place your hand on your forehead in a dramatic display of doubtful acting abilities. When you were younger, your mother would laugh at you, as you enacted scenes from romance books. You would throw yourself at a nearby piece of furniture, pretending to be some wronged lover, or an unhappy bride waiting for someone to liberate her. And your mother would clap her hands, thoroughly entertained.

Today however, she doesn't even crack a smile.

- I don't expect you to be happy about all this - she whispers - But I do expect you to wear your grief with some grace.

A slap would've been kinder, you think, and stare ahead, as the Harkonnen ship opens, and a group of people dressed in black spill out of it like ants from a drowning anthill. Your heart is thrumming hard in your chest, and your hand reaches out, despite all your apprehension, towards your mother. A force of habit, to search consolation within her disregarding the fact, that it was her meddling that put you here.

Her fingers lace with yours, thumb stroking your palm in an attempt to soothe you.

Immediately, you know which one of the bald headed Harkonnen is your betrothed.

He's much taller than you, an imposing figure even despite his rather lean built. His skin is almost completely white, as expected, his teeth are blackened out, as expected as well, and his eyes are bearing into you with an intensity so oppressing, you almost look away. Almost.

- I present to you, Feyd Rautha, the na-Baron of House Harkonnen.

The pale man steps forward, releasing you from his gaze for only just a moment, to trade pleasantries with your Father, who looks beyond miserable as he fixes your soon-to-be husband with a tired look. Then, Feyd Rautha is brought before you.

There's grace to his movements you did not expect, as he pushes his black cloak aside, and kneels in front of you. Harkonnen were known for their bulky ruthlessness, but this one... This one reminded you of a panther, the way his eyes travelled the length of your body, full lips pulling upward into a barely noticable smirk.

Customs, you remind yourself, as your mother's hand squeezes your fingers. You don't want to let her go, but you do, slowly, with so many mixed thoughts rattling around your brain, it makes your head swim.

Feyd Rautha grabs your extended hand in such a gentle manner, you're almost convinced the Harkonnens have shaved some poor bastard and dropped him off instead of the real na-Baron. Then, he lifts your palm up, until his lips press against your fingertips, a gesture so tender, your heart does a flip in your chest. And then, it stops all together, when his grip on your palm tightens, and he pulls your hand closer, to kiss it properly. As if he can't help himself, he looks up at you, and you realize.

You almost got yourself caught, but reading people's intentions have been taught to you as fervently as reading texts, and you can see right through this facade of chivalry. There's darkness in this man, a swirling void, which brings a wave of cold fear upon you. This cunning, depraved creature will soon enough become your husband, and you'll be stuck with him forever. How long will he keep up this impeccable appearence? Was this performence for you, your Father, his own twisted fun, or all the things combined?

With a furrowed brow, you tear your hand out of his grasp, a full body shiver running up your spine at the sight of his self-satisfied smirk. He drinks up your reactions like a man parched, and you fight hard to put on a mask of indifference, as he rises from his knees to stand before you in all his imposing glory.

***

You can feel his eyes follow you, as the welcome committee retreats into the Palace. He doesn't let you out of his sight throughout the feast, which takes place immediately after his arrival, and even now, as he gets ready to "entertain" the court by indulging in some barbaric ceremony of his, his eyes are trained only on you.

It's uncomfortable, to say the least, having him stare at you, while you sit surrounded by your family, who, for the most part, say nothing. Except Paul. Your dear baby brother, your protector in all this madness. As Feyd Rautha throws his coat to the side, showing off his (admittedly impressive) muscles, Paul leans towards you.

- He looks like a hard boiled egg, don't you think sister? - he whispers and subsequently ends your vow of silence.

The giggle you let out is caught quickly by everyone around, your betrothed included, before you press an open palm against your lips.

- Behave - your mother warns, and you try, you really do.

But in the serene light of the fading sun, your soon-to-be husband's head does look frighteningly egg-ish. God, you'll get yourself killed, before the wedding ceremony is even resolved if you keep this up.

You're seated high in an outdoor theater. One of your grandfather's favorite places, where he used to dance with bulls for sport. Where he met his demise.

Feyd Rautha presents his knives to you and your family, their blades glint ominously in the setting sun. Again, you are struck with the sheer grace this man exudes. His movements, despite being forceful and wild, have a beauty to them, as if he was rehearsing ancient dance moves, rather than killing blows.

And, despite your brother's earlier comment, there is something enticing in the way his pale skin catches the rays of bleeding sunshine, slowly creeping towards the horizon. He's almost beautiful, almost handsome enough to consider.

The thought leaves your head almost immediately, as the Harkonnen servants bring in his apparent opponent. Your heart drops to your stomach at the sight of a beaten, dark skinned warrior. Immediately you recognize a Fremen, you've read so much about them in your free time. You know how they filter water, what they eat, how they move through the sands, and despite your knowledge you can't fathom, why this poor man has been brought here.

At your side, Paul shifts in his seat, all jokes leaving him in a hurry. The both of you watch, as the man you're promised to toys with a clearly drugged victim. Slashes bloom on the prisoners skin, blood sprays in the air. You refuse to look away, to show such weakness, even as Feyd Rautha grabs the poor man by his hair and with a forceful push impales his throat on the blade. Blood pours down onto the sand, paints the Harkonnen's face and chest a deep shade of red.

It's a brutal display of power, of cruelty and wildness the Harkonnens are known for. Suddenly, everything Gurney has warned you about, while training your fighting skills, rings like a thousand of bells in your ears. This is who you will marry, who you will spend your entire life with.

You swallow down an urge to throw up, and stand up from your seat.

The show must go on, you think, throwing your Mother one, venomous look, trying to force her to understand your pain. Then, you lock eyes with your betrothed, who watches you from below with a cruel smile, blackened teeth on full display. You meant to congratulate him, to play the part as instructed, but you can do nothing of the sort. Instead, you stare back at him, disgust flowing from your features like a broken faucet.

Lady Jessica opens her mouth, but before she can, without a doubt, scold you again, you're out of the seating area, your footsteps echoing in the halls.

Once you're sufficiently tucked away from prying eyes, your back hits the wall, and you allow yourself feel the luxury of unbridled panic. Your breathing comes out in fast, shallow pants, as cold sweat forms on your forehead. Thoughts racing, your fingers tangle into your hair, tugging at the roots. This is your future, the only future waiting for you, and it's filled wth pain and blood.

- Have you enjoyed the fight, my Lady? - you immediately know it's him, despite not hearing him speak before.

A gasp of surprise leaves you before you can catch it, and your back straightens almost painfully fast.

There he stands, tall and lean, and terrifying. Blood still decorates his torso creating a contrast that is both terrifying and hypnotizing. He watches you, curiosity and humor swirling behind his eyes. You can't decide whether they are completely blackened out, or if they hold a blue, almost serene hue.

- No - you answer, finding your voice entirely too shaky for your liking - I did not enjoy it.

He laughs, a guttural, low sound that makes the hair stand at the back of your neck. You know he wouldn't dare try anything here, right under your Father's nose while the engagement is still in the making. Yet, as you stand frozen, just you, him and the marble walls around you, dread finds home in the pit of your stomach.

- Was that man Fremen? - you ask, partially to fill the silence, partially because you're genuinely curious.

The man shrugs, you can see muscles moving under his white skin. He takes a step towards you and you will yourself not to run.

- Sometimes we bring a couple of captured desert rats home - he explains with a nonchalant tone - Mostly for entertainment.

The almost bored intonation he uses to describe this barbaric ritual makes something boil deep inside you.

- That's cruel - you counter, emotions flowing freely onto your face, much to the man's delight - To deny those men the honor of dying on their home planet. To drag them into a completely foreign place, just to kill them for sport, like some animals... It's...

- Some of them live - he cuts you off, taking another couple of steps towards you, but in your growing outrage, you barely notice - Our brothels are filled with Fremen whores.

Your face twist into an expression of utter repulsion, and Feyd Rautha raises his eyebrows in a pathetic mask of confusion, almost childlike giddiness lighting up his eyes as he looks down at you.

- Oh, don't give me that look, my Lady. - he cooes, and you've never felt a stronger urge to slap the daylights out of someone - I know for a fact there are brothels on your planet filled with hungry soldiers.

- Yes - you bark back at him - but the people there are working prostitutes, not slaves!

He shrugs, looking somewhere to the side of your face.

- A waste of money, if you'd ask me.

- Good thing no one has - there's venom in your voice, and your betrothed sucks a breath through his teeth.

You curse yourself for leaving your dagger, for not concealing it somewhere in this ridiculous dress, because the way the Harkonnen's expression shifts freezes blood right in your veins.

He looks at you, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, while something much darker lurks in his eyes. His bloodied hand comes up, finger making contact with the exposed skin of your shoulder. You can feel the thick liquid stick to your flesh, as he drags his hand down, painting you, marking you.

- You're quite the little viper, my Lady.

Watching him silently, you don't respond. Don't know how to, when he closes the distance between your bodies enough to make you feel the heat radiating off of his chest, while the smell of blood and sweat completely assaults your senses. It's sickening, the way he looks at you, like you're a new toy, just waiting to be unpacked and destroyed by too eager hands.

- My Uncle, the Baron, has instructed me, to be the utmost gentleman to you. To woo you completely - his voice is low, barely above a whisper, as he grins down at you - But I just can't lie to my future wife like that, can I?

He leans closer and finally, you take a step back, sliding out of his space, assessing a cautious stance. His hand almost follows you, the skin of your shoulder feels conflictingly cold without him.

- Once we're wed, I will possess you completely - this time you stand your ground, as he approaches, circling you like a lion stalking it's prey - And then...

He leans down beside you, shoulder to your shoulder, close enough for you to feel his hot breath graze your ear.

- Like the bull that took your grandfather's life, I shall pierce you.

The violent innuendo doesn't slip past you, and with hatred brewing behind your eyes, you look straight at him, forcing your fear to lay dormant.

- You're disgusting.

- And you're blushing like a lovely, virgin bride should - he concludes, sending an awful wink your way, before withdrawing from you completely.

Your veins burn hot, as you watch him leave, a selfish confidence painting his steps, and you beg every God in existence to grant you a sword in your hand. Or a dagger. A kitchen knife would do as well. Anything, that would help you cut this unbeatable, patronizing, infuriatingly handsome smirk from Feyd Rauthas face.

Alas, you're left with nothing, only a small glimmer of hope dangling in front of you, after your damned betrothed's words fully register in your brain.

A bride you might be, but certainly not a virgin one. Duncan Idaho made sure of that many years ago. The thought makes you smile, despite nerves wreaking havoc in your body. At least that's the one thing Feyd Rautha won't be able to take from you.

#my writing #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune 2024 #dune movie #dune part 2 #feyd rautha smut #dune smut #dune x reader #he looks insane what the hell am i writing

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i-cant-sing · 3 days

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Time Traveller AU pt 6

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Time Traveller AU masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Its been a week since Baldwin finally came clean about the kiss with Charlotte, a week since you cleared of him "cheating on you", not that you cared if he did, and a week since you realised Guy tried and failed miserably to sabotage Baldwin through Charlotte.

Its also been a week over the due date you were supposed to return to Egypt to get your tools from Abbas, but its been hard to leave when Baldwin insists on spending time with you 24/7 because wants to make up to you for "suspecting his devotion to you".

He draped himself over your shoulders, caging you in his arms as he pecks your temple. "I'm sorry for making you doubt my love for you, princess. No, no- clearly, I'm the one at fault! Let me make it upto you~" Ugh, sometimes him being such a green flag is making it seem like a red flag. But you cant argue because... well, if you dont let Baldwin shower you in affection, then he might stop chanting "its my fault, princess" and change the narrative into "its your fault, princess and you need to be punished for doubting me- the KING, for slapping me- the KING, for thinking yourself so highly that you think i cant have all the women i want, me- the KING! To the dungeons you go, darling!"

Anyways, you both were now sitting down in the royal gardens, Baldwin's head laid in your lap as you worked your fingers through his luscious locks, absentmindedly braiding his hair while he made you tell some stories.

"And so, she found out her husband was cheating on her because she found out a jar of strawb- a jar of lard in her house." You looked down at his face, finding him already staring up at you, eyes full of awe. "And she doesnt eat lard. She hates it, so she never allowed it in the house."

Baldwin let out a small gasp. "And then what did this- Sharkerilla lady do?"

"Shakarina left Pickle. Divorced him." You told him, adding in small daisies in his hair. His face displayed pity. "Wow. And how do you know these people?"

You paused for a second. You cant explain to him how Shakira and Pique were celebrities and the concept of drama channels on youtube.

"We were neighbours." You hummed, patting his head. "There, I did your hair. Now I'm going-"

"No. Come on, we havent spent enough time." He whined, blue eyes looking at you pleadingly.

You scoff. "Baldwin, we've spent the entire day together. We ate breakfast and lunch together, we read books in the library, we looked at tiaras and crowns for the wedding, we even played chess." He lifted his head up from your lap and rested it on his palm as he leaned on his shoulder.

"And you lost all 5 games." Baldwin grinned, making you smack his forehead gently.

"I need to go-"

"Why?"

"Because I need to make arrangements for my trip to Egypt." You explained as Baldwin groaned, plopping his head face-first into your lap. "No." He mumbled against your dress.

"No?"

"No." He raised his head, pouting at you. "You're not going to Egypt. I miss you too much."

You gave him a lazy smile. "I'll be back soon."

"Not soon enough." He argued. "I have to go find my family, Baldwin." You continued on with your lie, raising a hand to caress his cheek. He sighed and leaned into your touch. "I can send the knights to find them." "They wont be able to. Only I will. Besides, I need to know what theyre like, if its even best to let them back into my life again, hm?"

He pondered over for a moment. "Then I will come along?" "What? Why?" He gave you a charming smile. "Because I dont want to part from you. Not for weeks, not for days, not even for-" He leaned up close to your face, eyes darting from your eyes to your lips back to your eyes. "-a minute."

Your face flushed and you looked to your side, using your hand to push his face away, making him chuckle as he grabbed the same hand and pressed a kiss to it. "You're so adorable, my little prude."

You shot him a glare. "I- I'm not a prude. But at least one of us should have a little shame."

He gave a chuckle, poking your still flushed cheek. "Shame? Whatever for? I love you." His eyes lit up in amusement as your head whipped towards him. Baldwin raised a brow at you. Its not the first time he's confessed, but... it still catches you offguard everytime.

"Did you hear me? I love you." He repeated, eyes still twinkling at how you continued to become flustered.

You opened your mouth and then closed it like an idiot, not knowing how to reply.

"Thank you." You finally said, looking anywhere but at him. He burst into a fit of laughter. "Oh god- I tell you- I love you and you say "thank you"? You really are something out of this world!" Baldwin teased you, making you huff.

"Lets not get off topic, Baldwin. You cant come with me to Egypt because you cant abandon Jerusalem. If your throne is empty, Guy- though he doesnt have the brain for it, or Salauddin or someone else will attempt to take your throne from you! You have a responsibility to your people! Keep them safe." You reminded him.

Baldwin stared at you before sighing, leaning back and resting his head on his arms. "You're always so smart, aren't you?" He smiled with his eyes closed. "I suppose it is a good thing that you care so much for your future subjects."

Next day, you were all set to leave for Egypt again. Baldwin and you stood at the gates of the castle as the kingdom all gathered around to bid you safe travels. You were ignoring Baldwin's stupid lovey dovey eyes boring holes into you, because there are people here and you dont want this blue orbed man to embarrass you.

But alas, he took your hand in his, making you look at him. He flashed you his dimples, bringing up your hand to press a kiss to it, the crowd cooing while you blushed (though it could be mistaken for anger with how hard you were frowning).

Tearing his eyes away from you, he addressed his people. "O people of Jerusalem! Your princess is going on an important journey. I ask you all to pray for her safety and well being!" The crowd looked on you two with awe, or more at Baldwin for being such a doting husband-to-be.

"While I know that your hearts must ache to see your princess depart from us for some time, I bring you good news to keep your hearts at peace as well." You looked at Baldwin in confusion. Good news? What is he talking about?

Baldwin smiled at you, the sunlight hitting his face at angle that made him look majestic.

"In 3 weeks time, the princess and I will marry!" Your eyes widened as the crowd erupted in cheer.

Baldwin hugged you close, and you whispered. "Three weeks? But I'll be gone for at least two! I wont have enough time to make-"

"Dont worry about a thing, princess. Sibylla and I will make all the arrangements necessary and trust me, it'll be a wedding for generations to remember." He pulled back, grinning at you as he pecked your forehead. "You just focus on returning safely, okay?"

Sibylla, Guy and their son were also there to bid you farewell. Sibylla pulled you in for a tight hug, promising to give you a grand wedding and that she'll keep your prefrences in mind. Their son ran off and Sibylla went to chase after him, leaving you alone with Guy.

"Bye." Guy gruffly said while you smiled tightly at him. "I know what you did, you buffoon." He looked at you slighted. "What the hell are you-"

"Charlotte? The letters? Yeah, we'll talk when I return. And you better not cause anymore trouble for me or else-" You turned to look at Baldwin, waving sweetly at him. Guy gulped, taking in your threat.

As usual, your first stop was at Salauddin's camp. You would go without stopping here, the knights Baldwin sent with you claimed to know the way but... you dont trust them to know how to survive the desert. And you knew you were right when some people from your caravan started feeling faint.

"Return to Jerusalem and take care of yourself." "But we cant just leave you, princess-" "You are not going to be able to serve me if you dont survive the desert. Salauddin's camp is near and with his guards combined with mine, I'll be more than safe. Go now. And tell the king that I insisted you returned." You assured them, commanding a few knights to guard them on their way back.

Looking ahead, you saw the sand hill beyond which Salauddin's camp was. Isabella, your lady-in-waiting, gave you your niqaab and chaddar.

"And then, he told me about who Charlotte was and what really happened. It was all a big misunderstanding." You told Salauddin as he moved his pawn.

"You believed him?" He raises a brow as you made your move.

"Of course! I already knew Guy was behind it. I figured it from the letters, and his face practically gave it all away when I confronted him about it." You reached under your veil to fan yourself. "Is it burning in here or am I just imagining it?"

Salauddin turned and brought you some cold water. "Guy could be a threat to you. Dont trust him."

You turned your head to the side, barely lifting your veil before bringing the glass underneath it to your lips, gulping it down as you let out a relieved sigh. "I know. Guy is a tool, and tools are meant to be used."

His lips quirked slightly at your words. Sitting back down, he played his move. "When do you plan on leaving Baldwin?"

"Soon. The plan is in motion." You took some time before moving your knight. Salauddin wasnt making this game easy for you this time and neither was the hot temperature.

He leaned forward, taking your knight with his bishop. "And how do you plan on doing that when your fiance has just announced your wedding date?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. "How did you- spies?" Salauddin's silence confirmed how news travelled so fast. "You dont need to worry. I'll be long gone before the wedding day."

"Care to indulge me on your plan?" He popped a date in his mouth.

"No." You replied making him glare at you. "If your plan involves relying on Guy, then you're even stupider than you look."

You scoff, pushing his king down. "I'm sorry, how many rounds have you won against me?" He smirks, though you suspect that he's just trying to cover up for being a sore loser.

"Maybe I just let you win so that you get to live." Of course, how can you forget his "win or you die" version of chess.

"Whatever you say, grandpa." His jaw clenched, making you chuckle. "Your existence gives me a headache. Leave."

As you walked out, you're suddenly hit with a wave of dizziness. Under your veil, your face is sweaty, you cant even use your hands to wipe it away because of how clammy they are, you even feel beads of sweat rolling down from your neck to your leg.

"Are you alright?" Salauddin came up behind you, eyes studying you stumbling a bit.

"Yeah- I'm just- hot..." You muttered, sweat gathering around your upper lip while your mouth felt like cotton. He watched you blink slowly as the sun hit you in the face, making you raise your hand to shield yourself, even though your muscle cramped.

"Y/n?" You heard him call you, but black dots clouded your vision and then in a second, you fainted.

You woke up to the sound of drums playing outside. Looking around, you recognised this to be the women's tent you had been in the first time Baldwin brought you here.

Isabella walked in, halting for a moment when she realised you were awake before rushing towards you. "Princess? Are you okay?" She poured you a glass of water, helping you drink it. "What happened?"

"You fainted from the heat. We were going to take you back to the kingdom but Sultan Salauddin advised us all to stay put here because the air was only going to get hotter for the rest of the day. And by night, it would be too cold for us to make it back." She smiled gently. "He was kind enough to offer us stay here."

You nodded and sighed. For sure none of you wouldve survived if you were to return to Jerusalem today.

You walked out of the tent to see it was night now. The drums you heard earlier were being played by some men of Salauddin's, accompanied by few women clapping and having an overall merry time around the bonfire.

You didnt spot Salauddin with them, but you suppose he's probably either working or resting.

The temperature had indeed dropped as night fell, and you wrapped a shawl around before joining the camp fire. You sat down on the ground with some women, smiling as they immeadiately welcomed you warmly. The one on your right was quick to show you her baby, and you recognised him to be the one you saved.

"Jibrael." She told you his name. The baby was almost a month old, and his chubby cheeks made you coo. Jibrael- or Gabriel, is an angel who acted as an intermediary between God and humans and as bearer of revelation to the prophets, most notably to Muhammad (PBUH). In Christianity, Gabriel was the archangel announcing the coming birth of Jesus Christ and John the Baptist. In Judaism, Gabriel is a helper to Daniel and a warrior angel for God's cause.

You played with the baby for a while before handing him back to his mother to be put down for sleep. It was getting cold now and most had already left to go to bed now. You wrapped the shawl around you closer, snuggling into it as your eyes gazed at the dancing flames. You felt someone sit next to you.

"How are you feeling now?" Salauddin asked, keeping his eyes ahead.

"I'm fine. Thank you for catching me."

"I didnt. You fell. It was funny." You turned to glare at him (the respectable gap between you two did not go unnoticed... or unappreciated by you.) and perhaps for the first time you saw him smiling. Genuinely.

Though his thick beard covered most of his lower third of the face, you could see his sharp jawline that sculpted his face. Strong. Hard. His lips, bottom one appearing to be plumper than the upper one, were resting in a relaxed smile.

The moonlight seemed to soften his sharp features, but his kohl lined eyes adorned with luscious lashes shone with amusement and... something in the orange hue of the bonfire.

He turned his head to you. "What?" You were thankful for your veil covering your expression for being caught staring at him like an idiot. You shake your head, dismissing him, turning your head back towards the dying fire.

"What are you going to do once you leave Baldwin?" Salauddin asked, stoking the fire.

"Leave."

"To where?" You shrug. "Anywhere. Maybe try finding my family. Or venture somewhere else."

"He wont give up so easily." You rolled your eyes. "Yeah yeah, because he loves me and all-"

"He wont forgive your betrayal." Salauddin cut you off. "He wont forgive you for the embarrasment. He wont forgive you for the insult of rejecting a king. He wont just- let you go." He looked at you, his tone haunting as he uttered the next words.

"Baldwin will hunt you down. And he will make you wish you were dead."

You stared at him, processing his words. Baldwin would... hurt me?

"Are we talking about the same man?" You ask him with a light chuckle, though your throat has ran dry.

He nods. "I know he seems like he couldnt hurt a fly, and physically, he couldnt until you cured him. But I've seen him on the battlefield. I've had him as my enemy and I've observed him obliterate people who just tick him off." He offered you some dates, and you took a few. You were hungry, and these looked pretty good right now.

"Baldwin is smart, calculating. He's the king, he has the power to end his enemy very easily. At the drop of a hat. But he doesn't. He waits for the perfect moment, or rather creates the perfect chance to torture any man who had the misfortune to be on the receiving end of his anger. And he does it with a completely cool, clear mind." And even though Salauddin has fought Baldwin many times, they both know they're only fighting for their people, for their religion. Its nothing personal, so they're technically not enemies.

"So what do you suggest I do to not piss him off so badly? I've already tried rejecting him respectfully."

He stayed quiet for a few moments, stoking the fire. He smiled when he felt your curious eyes on him.

"There is a way." He said.

"Which is...?"

His smile widened even more. "You're not ready for it yet." You frowned. "Drop the act, Salauddin. You came here by yourself because you wanted to tell me the plan. Stop teasing and just tell me." He chuckled hearing you become frustrated.

"In due time, Y/n. In due time." You roll your eyes, standing up. "I'm not going to beg you to tell me. But your "plan", which I dont think exists, it better not mess with my escape." You stomped back inside your tent, and Salauddin snickered as you tripped a bit on your chadar on the way in.

He stood up, giving a nod to the rest as they all settled in for the night.

"Salauddin!" You cried out, your eyes full of tears that he could see from a mile away, even if your were wearing a niqaab. He could feel your agony, your distress. You were standing in the middle of the desert alone, the boiling sun along with your black chadar covering you from head-to-toe, would only be increasing your body temperature. Why were you all alone? He left you with his caravan. Or did Baldwin leave you in this harsh enviorment to die? Did he find out you were going to leave him?

"Salauddin!" You called out to him again, your voice wet from all the crying. This time, he rode his horse towards you. Fast. He needed to get to you, even though the galloping hurt his shoulder. Yes, he got wounded while he was fighting. He sustained many injuries, many gashes, so much so that by the time he reached you, his white armour had turned bloody. But he was not bothered by it, no. He needed to reach you. You. How long have you been out here? Arent you dying of thirst?

Your arms were still wide open, though drooping from the lack of energy. He could hear you sobbing as you called him again, and he all but ran towards you, bodies colliding as he pulled you into a strong embrace. Muscled arms wrapped around you, comforting you that he's here now. You're safe now.

Salauddin looked around as you bawled into his chest, trying to see if everyone had really abandoned you here and... left you die.

You pulled away from him, but Salauddin didnt remove his hands from you. And thats when he felt the cloth you were wearing. It was too thin. The sun must've burned your skin now. Is that why you're crying? You're in pain?

In a blink, he removed his own thick black chadar that rested on his shoulders and wrapped it around you, pulling it over your head to stop more heat damage.

"Y/n?" He spoke softly as you continued to cry so brokenly as he adjusted the cloth over your body. "What happened?"

"Y-you left me!" You blubbered. He shook his head. "No. I- I left to go in battle. I couldnt take you along. It was dangerous-"

"You left me, Salauddin! You left me here! Baldwin- he hurt me! He hurt me so badly! And you weren't here to protect me!" You sobbed out, your eyes red and swollen from the tears. "I am a part of the ummah! I am a Muslim! You- you were supposed to keep me safe! On your honour, I was in your care! Why didnt you save me, Salauddin?"

Salauddin felt his heart being crushed at your words. He failed to keep you safe? But... he was at war. What was he supposed to do?

He grabbed your shoulders, pulling you to his chest as he rubbed circles into your back. "I'm sorry." He whispered, shushing you as your body shook from tears. "I'm here now. I promise to keep you safe, Y/n. I will never leave you again. I will never let anyone hurt you again. I swear, Allah as my witness, I will do everything to keep you safe." You pulled your head back from his chest, your red eyes looking at him weakly.

"You're too late, Salauddin." You whispered and a sharp sound whooshed through the air, making your body jolt in his arms. You both looked down and thats when he saw it-

An arrow. Poking through your chest.

"Y/n?" His voice trembled, watching the life drain out of your eyes.

You fell, and so did Salauddin, catching your body. He couldnt- he couldnt believe it. He cradled you in his arms, readjusting the chadar over you again, softly calling your name.

Wake up. Wake up, Y/n. Return to me.

Footsteps approached him, though he couldnt bare to tear his eyes from you. He already knew who it was.

"Why?" Salauddin asked him.

Baldwin kneeled down to his level, staring at you for a moment before yanking his arrow out of you, making a stream of blood gush out. Salauddin panicked, tried to cover the gaping wound with his hand. He looked at Baldwin in disbelief. This... this was not the Baldwin he knew. Baldwin was never so cruel- so heartless.

"She deserved it." Baldwin stated before stabbing him in the chest.

Salauddin continued to hold you in his arms, watching Baldwin leave on his horse as you two bled out to your deaths in the middle of the desert.

Salauddin woke up with a jolt, his forehead sweaty as he breathed fast. He could feel his heart beating against his chest loudly.

Nightmare. Thats all it was. He was still in his bed, in his tent.

He got up to fetch himself some water, taking sips to slow down his heart. Judging from the darkness, he knew it was still nighttime. It was quiet, everyone was asleep except for a few men he left to guard them.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Salauddin whipped around just in time to knock the shadowy figure standing behind him with a sword. In a second, Salauddin had overpowered and snapped his neck, only then realising more shadows moving outside his tent.

"We're under attack! WAKE UP!" He yelled before grabbing his two swords and running out to defend his caravan.

You woke up to screaming and Isabella pulling you out of bed.

"We're under attack!" She says, yanking you out of the women's camp that was set on fire. Your eyes were wide and for a moment, you were frozen as you took the scene in front of you.

Fire. There was fire everywhere. All the camps were ablaze, along with some people being burned alive. Haunting screams echoed the entire area. Time slowed down as you saw Salauddin's men fighting... some people. You couldnt figure out who they were, but you knew they werent the knights Baldwin had assigned for you. No, you saw them fighting these mysterious figures as well. They were covered in dark clothes to blend in with the night, had hoods and masks covering their faces but they fought skilfully and very fast.

"Princess, we must leave!" Isabella caught your attention again, dragging you away from the chaos. You saw her following a knight- your knight, who led you towards a horse for you to escape with.

Salauddin... where's Salauddin?

You looked back frantically and you spotted him in the sea of flames, cutting through multiple armed one with his two swords slicing them brutally.

For a moment, your eyes met and then in the next, he screamed your name.

Isabella had pushed you away just in time as two men came at you with swords. You knight yelled at you to run. Again, Isabella pulled you to make an escape but it wasnt long before you two got separated by a woman who was on fire, running in between you two.

"H-help her." You told Isabella who took of her shawl to put out the fire. In the middle of all this commotion, you heard a distinct cry.

A baby's cry.

Jibrael!

It was coming from one of the tents. You ran in, looking around for the baby before spotting the bassinet. You grabbed the crying baby and held it close to your chest, trying to shush it as you walked towards the exit only to halt when you saw who was blocking it.

The shadowy figure. He was wearing dark hood and mask, while the rest of his armour was made of leather. He was armed with swords, daggers and a satchel.

It clicked. Assassin.

The assassin stared at you with dark eyes taking a step forward. You backed away, holding the crying baby protectively to your chest. He tilted his head at you, and for a second, you thought you saw amusement in his eyes.

Slowly, he walked out of the tent without saying a word but he stood right behind the curtain of the tent. You saw his shadow pull out his sword before standing there still.

What is he doing?

You turned around, hoping to find another exit but thats when you saw it. Two more shadows stood outside the tent and then they dropped something on the tent walls.

Fire. They lit the entire tent on fire and stood outside with their swords, giving you the choice to either die by their swords or burn yourself alive.

The fire spread fast, burning the flammable tent easily. Dark smoke started to surround you making you cough. The baby continued to cry harshly and you pulled him under your chadar to protect him from the fire and smoke.

But you didnt realise it until it was too late. Your chadar, your clothes had caught on fire as well. You screamed for help, screamed in agony as your skin burned. It felt like you were being branded, felt like someone was ripping your skin off.

Is this it? Is this how it all ends for you? Suffocated, skin charred, body naked? In a period where no one knows who you really are?

You fell to your knees before hunching over the baby, cradling it in your arms as its harsh cries burst your ears, protecting him from being burned for as long as you can.

Allah... Allah... Allah...

Through the thick smoke, a figure ran and covered your body with a thick cloth, patting down to put out the flames.

He picked your trembling body up, your arms still wrapped around the baby protectively. He walked through the ablaze tent, his face still covered by the smoke, or perhaps your vision was too blurry.

He exited the tent, the smoke cleared out and a gush of air filled your lungs. But you were burned, suffocated and exhausted.

The last thing you saw before your world faded to black was Salauddin's face.

You woke up to the sound of Quran recitation. A gentle, steady voice read the words beautifully.

Fluttering your eyes open, you looked around the room for the source. To your side, you found Salauddin reciting the Quran with his eyes closed in concentration. Was he a hafidh? (Hafidh is someone who has memorised the Quran completely).

He opened his eyes when finished reciting, looking stunned for a second to find you awake before a small smile graced his lips.

"We're in Egypt now." He informed you before concern washed over his face. "How are you feeling now? I changed your bandages in the morning, but I think its time to replace them." He grabbed the bowl of water and bandages on your side.

"B-bandages?" He stopped before understanding your confusion.

"You were in the tent when the assassins set it on fire. Your... clothes caught on fire, which stuck to your skin and burned it as well. I had to remove the remains of your clothes to treat your burns-"

"What?!" Your eyes looked down to confirm his words, he had indeed changed your clothes. "Why did you-" Your hands touched your face, heart sinking as you realised your veil was not there.

"You removed my niqaab?! My clothes?!" Your fury was only a disguise for your fear of what he'd seen, what he'd done to you in your vulnerable state.

He shook his head. "I had to do it as soon as we were safe. You were hurt-"

"Why? Why did you have to do it? Why not Isabella or any of the other women?!"

His face turned solemn. "Isabella... was gravely injured. She was in no position to look after you. Most people- most women from my tribe did not survive. The few who did were also wounded. The men... I just thought you wouldnt prefer someone you didnt know to look at you in such state." Salauddin looked at you, his eyes clear. "I did not do anything unbecoming of a man. Allah as my witness, I did not touch you with ill intent."

Perhaps it was the way he said it, or perhaps you just wanted to keep your mind at peace but... you believed him.

"How's Isabella now?" You let him change the dressings on your arms, watching him like a hawk as he moved quickly and carefully, no unnecessary touches or lingering that would make you uncomfortable. Even when he treated the the burns on the back of your legs, he worked fast, applying some balm on the red areas. The balm was like a cool gel against your irritated skin.

"She's better now. Just needed some rest." He replied as he finished wrapping the bandage on your legs. "Your back." Salauddin softly asked. You hesitated.

He sighed. "Y/n... I need to apply the balm or your skin will scar." You slowly turned around, holding your breath as you removed the robe from your back partially.

If he wanted to, he could've done anything when you were unconcious. You calmed yourself.

Again, Salauddin's hand worked fast, applying the balm quickly and placing some gauze over the marks. He pulled your robe over your back again, letting you turn around with a flushed face.

"My... my face?" You asked cautiously. You did not know if damage had been done there as well.

Salauddin understood you. "Fortunately, your face was save from the flames." He stood up and went over to the wardrobe to grab you a white chadar, handing it to you so that you cover your head with it. "Maybe when you were ducking over Jibrael, your arms covered both you and him from the fire."

"Jibrael...?" You asked. He smiled assuringly. "He's fine. You saved him... again." You sigh in relief. At least this wasnt all for naught.

Salauddin sits back down in the chair and though you've covered your hair with the shawl, he keeps his eyes trailed down on his hands in his lap. "I must ask you of one thing." You peeked at him before keeping your eyes focused on your lap as well.

"Will you... tell Baldwin about this incident?" Why would you when it would only cause Baldwin to panic and prevent you from leaving the castle, or his sight at all? You still need to come here to get parts for your time machine and even if the machine was working, you need to be able to use it without Baldwin or his army of knights breathing down your neck.

"No. It will only cause misunderstandings between you and him and I need to punish the real culprit for it."

He frowned but didn't raise his gaze. "And who might that be?"

"Those men... they were assassins, right?" He hummed. "Judging by how vicious they were, I think they were Ismailis."

Ismailis were a sect of Shia Muslims. Basically, like the great schism of Christianity into Orthodox and Catholic Church, Islam also had a schism that divided it into Sunni and Shia Islam. Shia Islam further had divided into different sects, of which one was Ismailis.

Sunni and Shia Muslims have been at war with each other since the beginning over religious differences. And considering Salauddin was not only Sunni Muslim but also targeted many Ismaili assassins so that they would not oppose his rule, it would be an understatement that they wanted Salauddin dead.

But... you know Salauddin had already gotten rid of most of the assassins and established his dominance over them. You're sure he's already had a peace treaty with them.

"Salauddin, you have an agreement with the Ismailis, don't you?" You watched his eyes widen slightly. "You're on peaceful terms with them at the moment?"

"How did you know?" Of course, the great Sultan Salauddin, an orthodox Sunni, wouldn't want the world to know that he spared the Ismailis. No, that would stir rumours that Salauddin has empathy for Ismailis, for the Shias, and which would lead to the rumours of hum being a Shiite Muslim.

You waved him off. "I know your character. I know of your mercy. Besides, I know both you and the Ismailis have a bigger common enemy- the Christians. Its more than likely that the Ismailis are supporting you so that you defeat Baldwin and claim Jerusalem, then they can focus on you. Plus, if the Ismailis wanted to kill you, why wait until now? They know you've been camping outside Jerusalem for months now." Salauddin was... impressed by your deduction skills to say the least. How are you connecting the dots so fast? Just who are you, Y/n?

You rubbed your chin. "So that means that someone not only hired the assassins but also wants us to think that the Ismailis were behind it all." Who could it be? Someone who wants to harm Salauddin but... they also wanted to harm you. It couldnt be the Roman Catholics or other Christians. No, they'd know better than to interfere with Baldwin, their Holy Emperor's war. Especially not with his wife-to-be in harms way. Who... who would know that you're with Salauddin and still attempt an assassination-

"Guy." You muttered, pinching the nose of your bridge. Of course, its fucking Guy, shit for brains Guy who cant sit still and wait his turn to play king.

"Guy? Why would he attack me when you're still here?" Salauddin's mind immeadiately gives an answer as soon as he asks out loud.

"Because I am here." You groan. "He's trying to eliminate us both, or at the very least- me, while I'm with you so that he can provoke Baldwin to go to war with you because you "killed" his future wife. He would tell Baldwin that it doesnt matter if they were Ismailis or not, we were all Muslims and this is just how Muslims are! He'd send Baldwin off to not only go to war with you but rather go to war with Muslims everywhere! And knowing Guy, he probably hopes that Baldwin dies in the process of his rampage. If you, me or Baldwin are all dead, or even one of us is, then Guy will only have to worry about dealing with one less person. His best bet was probably to get rid of me and you both, then have Baldwin go to war with all the Muslims who killed his fiancee. He's using all of us as pawns so that he gets to sneak on to the throne and be king!"

You heard Salauddin sigh. Perhaps he agreed with your theory. Perhaps he didnt. Whatever he may think, you know he will still conduct a thorough investigation of his own to find out who the real culprit is,

"Dont worry, I will deal with Guy. In fact, I'll let you have him to slaughter as you please." Of course, Salauddin will kill Guy. He has to pay for the blood of all his people.

Salauddin watched you get up from the bed and walk towards the vanity. "How long will these take to heal?" You asked, referring to your burns. "Usually take about a month, but the balm I used will significantly fade the marks." Good. You dont need Baldwin freaking out over them.

He stood up to take his leave. "I'll check on what information they've been able to gather from the assassin we caught. You-" He pointed towards the bed. "Rest. I mean it. These burns will only get worse in the heat outside, thats why I gave you the coolest room in the palace." He continued to glare at you until you finally sighed and sat on the bed. "I have to go see Isabelle-" You tried but he raised his hand. "No. You are to stay here, in your room. No one gets in, and no one gets out. I dont trust anyone to not try to kill you, not even in your own entourage- whatever is left of them. My men are stationed right outside. If you need anything, you tell them. But you are not to leave your chambers."

"I'll see you at dinner." He left and you saw the guards stationed outside your door.

The great thing about Egyptian palaces was that they had big windows to allow for ventilation. So you were already out of the window and climbing along the edge. You were about to jump when you heard someone call you.

"P-princess?!" Isabelle looked at you in horror. Apparently, you had climbed down near the balcony of her room. "Oh hey, Isabelle! How are you now?"

"I- I'm fine- princess, please get down from there!" She practically begged, fearing for your life. You climbed over her balcony and hugged her. "I'm so glad you're okay! Because I need you to do me a favour." You gave her a sweet smile while she looked at you in confusion. "See, I need to go out for a bit but Salauddin has told me to stay in and rest. So... I need you to cover for me again, just like last time."

"I- what- princess-"

"I wouldnt ask you if it wasnt of grave importance." You pleaded, finally making her give in. "Okay, I'll go to your room-" You stop her when she begins walking away.

"You cant just walk in there. There's guards stationed there and they wont let you in."

"Then how am I supposed to get in?"

You smiled at her. She didnt like that smile. It wasnt... well meaning.

"Well..." You looked at the balcony and she followed your gaze, almost immediately coming to tears.

"Princess please-"

"I am right here. I will help you, I promise Isabelle! I wont let you fall."

After helping a trembling Isabelle climb into your room, you had finally made your way to the madrassa. You had covered your face with your chadar and sneaking inside was no feat.

Abbas jumped out of his seat the moment you entered.

"Y/n! I thought you forgot all about me- wait what happened to your hands?" He referred to the bandages.

"I had an accident while conducting an experiment." "What experiment? Can I be a part of it? Please please please-"

"Abbas." You silenced him. "Business first. Did you make the tools I asked you to?" He quickly ran to his desk and pulled them out from the drawer. You examined them. They werent the best but you could make do with them. You nodded before asking for a paper so that you could draw the last few bits you needed.

"I need these by the end of this week." Abbas chuckled. "Oh I thought you were joking. How do you expect me to build- whatever this is! in a week? No way. I would need to get all the material and-"

"Abbas. I need it this week. I dont care how, but you have to do it."

He looked at you suspiciously. "Maybe if you could just tell me what it is that you're making-"

"No. I cant. And you will make me this by the end of the week, if not earlier because I have a very good reward waiting for you."

Abbas rolled his eyes. "I dont need your money-"

"I will let you ask me anything you want. Any question on any topic you'd like." You knew Abbas's thirst for knowledge.

You saw the twinkle in his eyes. "I will still take the money." "Of course, but I'll pay you after you make me this." He sighed and agreed.

"Wait- check this please?" He handed you his journal that had some math equations. You huffed, grabbing his pen and working on the mistakes. "I'm doing this just so that you do my work." You gave him some other math problems you did in grade 8 and handed it back to him.

You turned to leave before pausing.

"Abbas?" He hummed. "I think... we should set some security measures." You whispered.

"Whatever for?"

"Just in case someone came looking for me or my work. You know you're not supposed to tell anyone about this."

"I couldnt even if I wanted to." He tilted his head. "Why would someone come looking for you? Are you in trouble?"

You shake your head. "No. But you're aware of how other... scholars are eager to steal ideas." He nodded, being a victim of such crime.

"What do you have in mind?"

Salauddin was informed when you had returned to the palace. Of course he knew the moment you left. This was his Egypt. Not a bird flies without his knowledge here.

He sent out a spy after you, both to keep you safe and to follow you around. He couldnt help but let out a huff when he was told of your daring climb out of the window. Didnt he tell you to stay in bed?

"This girl..." He grumbles.

The spy told him that you went inside the madrassa. Why? What business could you possibly have there?

Perhaps you're creating a poison? To kill Baldwin? No, there would be easier ways to get poison. You did tell him and Baldwin that you were going to Egypt to find your family, but he has a hard time believing that.

Just what were you upto?

He'll find out soon enough. This is his kingdom, he finds out things. And he'll find out your secret too.

He knocked on your door before entering. You were sitting on your bed, your face now covered with a niqaab and your hair with his white chadar. His clothes. He felt something warm in his heart at the thought.

"How are you now?" He asked, his hands clasped behind his back.

"I'm fine. Just bored waiting here all day." You sighed exasperatedly.

Such a liar.

"I apologise for not being able to entertain you. I was busy with the assassin." You looked at him in anticipation. "He didn't reveal much but he did say that they were hired. I suppose that would bring us closer to your theory."

He watched your eyes narrow in thought. "It has to be Guy. He knew I was going to the desert to you first. He needed to get rid of me without anything to come back on him. Coward."

The door was knocked.

"I hope you dont mind- I had them bring dinner up here." Salauddin explained, letting the servants in. They set down a dastarkhawan in the balcony. A red table cloth was set on the ground, onto which many dishes were placed. You both sat down on cushions, the area was lit up with candles placed. You were busy admiring the view of the pyramids from your seat while Salauddin poured you some ginger kehwa.

"Here." You lifted your niqaab a bit to sip the hot tea, a sigh escaping your lips. Salauddin's lips quirked a bit but he, like you, kept his eyes focused on the pyramids.

You picked up the plate of dates from your side, knowing how fond he is of them. "Here." You mimicked his voice, making him smile as he grabbed a piece.

You both silently ate, admiring the view and enjoying each others presence.

Some time later, you were both done with dinner and just sat in silence. That is until Salauddin spoke.

"I'm sorry." You looked at him. "For letting you get hurt."

You exhaled, trailing your eyes back towards the night sky that was littered with gleaming stars.

"I know. But you shouldnt be, Salauddin. I'm not made of porcelain."

I know. I saw you jumping off the palace walls with the confidence of an assassin and the grace of a headless chicken.

"Still, you're under my care. I am responsible for you-"

"I free you of this burden." You're not a burden. "I am not that hurt and I am not scarred for life. If anything, all that incident made me question is just how far would man go?" Your eyes glazed over as you recalled the incident in the tent, where the assassin left you and the baby to burn to death. You could understand killing you, but a baby? He was willing to let a baby burn?

"It makes me believe just how barbaric people were to the Ahl al-Bayt (family of Prophet Muhammad PBUH). How easy it was for them to slaughter his lineage, how easy it was for them to keep water from them, how their hearts did not halt for a moment when they heard the cries of Ali Asghar- who they killed with an arrow in the neck." Your eyes glistened. "A baby. He was just a baby. How would've his father felt in that moment, holding his dead son in his arms, knowing he had to bring him home to his wife?" The battle of Karbala was one of the most heart wrenching tragedies of Islam and whats worse is that Prophet Muhammad knew of it years before it happened. He knew his own grandsons will face martyrdom years before it actually happened, when they were just little children in his arms.

"Man is cruel." Salauddin stated.

"But Allah made man. Why... would he allow man to be so cruel? Even animals are not this merciless." You wondered.

"Because man cannot see God." He says. "There are signs of His existence, signs for those who wish to be guided. Animals can see God. Angels can see God. Humans... Allah has made us with the ability to think, to choose. Man chooses to be cruel when he forgets that Allah is watching, that these things- the stones, the trees, everything around him? They're all living beings who will testify against man." He smiles. "But that is why the true believers also have a greater reward in the hereafter. What do you think of the reward, of what you'll get when you enter heaven? You dream of wealth, of food, of all luxuries. But there's a greater reward waiting for us. Do you know what that is?"

You gave a slight shake of your head.

"The true believers will see Allah. They will get to meet their Lord, their Creator, the One who saw them through it all, the One who knows their secrets and kept them hidden, the One continued to shower His blessings upon them even when they were not grateful." Those words... they comforted you. How peaceful it is to the heart to hear that your Creator waits for you. The One who has seen you shed tears and took care of you in this world will also take care of you in the next. And at the same time, this is such devastating news for the sinners too. Those who act selfishly, who forget who their Lord is, they will end up in hell and will never get the opportunity to see their Creator again, to ask of mercy from the most Merciful.

"Still..." You mumbled, wanting to find an excuse for such wickedness.

"It is not our place to ask why, Y/n. Allah does not owe us answers, explanations. He already has given us His book for guidance, his prophets for example. But know this- everything happens for a reason. Maybe the battle of Karbala was just to show us how quick man can turn on his own. Perhaps in the future, a time will come when people will kill many women and children, slaughter men so brutally while the entire world watches and yet... no one does anything. And then people will wonder- surely, man is not so evil. Surely, man wouldn't kill innocent children. Perhaps then they will remember history."

Salauddin woke up with a sigh. He had gone to sleep after he left your room last night, but he woke up from yet another dream he had of you. You. You. You. Since that night in the desert, he's been having constant dreams about you. Its either you dying at the hands of Baldwin or Guy, or its you asking him to help you. Tonight, he dreamt of you two celebrating Ramadan together, with you picking up the plate and offering him dates, however unlike dinner, you were sitting much closer to him in his dream, by his side. So close, he could see himself in your eyes.

Salauddin wasnt vain enough to admit it to himself- he had feelings for you. But what were they?

Lust? Not really, he's seen far prettier women than you. Beauty... is subjective and Salauddin is a firm believer in "beauty is in the eye of the beholder".

Admiration? No. He admires your intelligence and your wit but Salauddin also has those qualities.

Infatuation? Sure he does think about you often during the day but not enough to call it obsession.

No, its love. It has to be. His heart doesnt know what exactly it is about you that draws him in. His mind doesnt comprehend why he feels like you belong with him but his soul, every fibre of his being screams that you do.

Allah has created someone for someone. He created Eve for Adam, He creates a woman from the rib of the man.

Salauddin touches the side of his chest, just above his abdomen.

Perhaps you're his missing rib.

You were smart, you were daring, you were also stupid enough to put yourself in harms way but it was... endearing. More importantly, you were the only person who could bicker with him, stand your ground against him and get away with it too.

He sat down on a chair, looking out at the pyramids. Like the man he's named after (Prophet Yusuf/Joseph), Salauddin believes in dreams having meaning. Perhaps its a way for God to talk to you, to warn you or guide you.

And from all his dreams about you, he's come to interpret it that he must save you from Baldwin... and everyone else. And he can save you- he can save you without you having to go through the trouble to be plotting against Baldwin and endangering yourself by working with Guy.

He could marry you.

If you were to marry Salauddin, you would become the queen of Egypt and the wife of the strongest Muslim leader of the time. Not only that but the entire ummah, Muslims around the world will come together as one to fight against Baldwin, against anyone who dares to harm you. You would be safe, you would be secure by his side as his wife.

But the plan is easier said than done.

Baldwin wouldnt backdown so easily. He would wreak havoc and if he's as obsessed with you as Salauddin has seen him, then he wouldnt stop at nothing to get you back. Baldwin will have to be dead for you to be safe from him.

Besides Baldwin, you yourself also are a hurdle. You havent shown any interest in him (which is understandable because you're engaged) but he doubts you're interested in marrying anyone at all. You're not one to be affected his wealth or status, you dont go for materialistic things. He's sure if he were to ask your hand, you would laugh hysterically and then maybe try mocking him. And Salauddin does not want to force you to marry him. He wants you to want him.

There is a way he could convince you. All he has to do is make himself look better than any man, especially Baldwin because you do seem to have a soft spot for him despite trying to sabotage him.

A sinister idea comes to mind.

What if Baldwin breaks up with you?

If Baldwin, for any reason, decides not to marry you then not only will you be free from him but a war will be avoided.

All Salauddin has to do is give Baldwin a reason to break up with you. He could send some concubines to him, but he doubts Baldwin would use them. And even if he did, it isnt reason enough for him to call off things with you. No, the only way Baldwin would break up with you is... if you're unfaithful to him. You dont need to cheat, dont need to sleep with any man. No, you dont have to do anything at all. All he has to do is make sure you're in the right place at the right time and Baldwin's there too, just enough to create doubt in his mind. And the ball will roll from there. Baldwin will continue to second guess your loyalty to him until he's driven himself insane. Then he'd leave you without ever punishing you for a crime he thinks you committed but has no proof of. Thats when Salauddin will swoop in as your knight in shining armour and you'll see that all men but him are shit and you'll say yes to his proposal-

No.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. Despite it being a perfect plan, the safest plan- Salauddin cant bare to stain your character. He cannot spread a rumor about you being unfaithful. He cannot have anyone talk badly of you, even if it will end up with you in his arms. You're important to him. And if you ever figure out that Salauddin was the one behind it all, you'd never forgive him. You would never trust him.

The thought of you not trusting him, just like you dont trust him enough to tell him why you sneaked out of the palace, it hurts him. He doesnt know why but he wants you to trust him- trust him enough that you come to him with your problems and have faith that he will solve them for you. He will keep you safe. He will protect you.

He will have to find another way.

Salauddin offered the morning prayer before reciting the Quran, asking Allah for guidance for his problems and good health for you.

He walked out of his room and turned to the corridor where your room was, only to find you sneaking out of the room with Isabelle. You were still wearing his white chaddar, and it engulfed your small body like a blanket as you hurriedly walked down-

You tripped on the bottom of the long chaddar and fell face first.

"Princess!" Isabelle cried out as she helped you up, but you quickly dusted yourself off and continued talking her ear off as if nothing had happened, the tail of the chaddar trailing behind you as Isabelle walked beside you to keep up with what you were saying.

"Idiot..." He whispered to himself, though he was smiling. He called a servant and ordered him to bring the finest chaddars and niqaabs for you. He cant have you tripping all over the place because you wear his chaddar that was too big for you, despite how adorable you looked in it.

You knocked on his door.

"Salauddin, I was going to the market-"

"And you came to ask for permission? Okay, granted." He waved you off with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes. "Where do you get the audacity- nevermind. I came to ask if you'd lend me a few gold coins? I need to buy some things, souvenirs if you will." You had lost your coin purse in the desert and you need to pay Abbas.

He raised a brow. "What do you need? I can have it brought to you here."

You pursed your lips. Why is he being difficult? "I dont know what I need until I look. Just give me some money, I promise to pay you back as soon as I can."

He stood up, walking upto you but you neither backed away nor moved your eyes from him. "Its not about the money." He pulled out a pouch and dropped it in your hands. "I worry for your safety. Who knows how many others Guy has hired to kill you? I'm coming along."

"Aww, you're worried about me? That's so sweet-"

"I wouldnt want my image to tarnish because a guest died in my care." Your smile dropped as you grumbled something under your breath.

"Whatever. I still dont need you to tag along-"

"Good thing about being the sultan is that I dont need anyone's permission." He cut you off before walking past you. You stomped after him. "Salauddin, dont you have work-"

"You can either come with me or stay in your room for the rest of your stay here." He stated.

"What?" He heard you snicker beside him. Your eyes twinkled with amusement. "Oh, its just these rags suit you a lot." Salauddin and his guards had worn disguises to blend in with the commoners. He didnt want to draw attention to you two.

He rolled his eyes. "I have to blend in for your safety-" "I have never looked more in danger than I do right now. Look around and see people staring at a lady dressed so modestly is surrounded by brooding men wearing rags." You giggled as Salauddin looked around to see some people were indeed looking your way.

You stopped at a small stall that was selling some jewellery. You were looking at some rings, trying to choose something for Sibylla. The shopkeeper, an old man must've seen Salauddin standing over your shoulder looking around for any suspicious men.

"Son, why dont you help your wife pick something? Focus on her!" The shopkeeper said, catching you both off guard. You looked at Salauddin and laughed at his surprised face. Continuing to pull his leg, you stared up at him and batted your lashes. "Well, husband? What do you think would suit me?" You asked raising two different earrings to your face. One had a ruby in it, the other had sapphire.

He looked at you for a moment.

"Neither."

Your smile underneath your veil vanished, and you placed the earrings back on the table.

"The blue opal ones." He nodded his head as the shopkeeper handed him the tear drop gold earrings that had the precious stones fixed in it. He brought the earrings near your face, never touching it as his eyes assessed his pick.

"They bring out your eyes." He said before paying the old man and giving them to you, all while you were looking at him in awe.

"Wait! Why did you pay? I had the money." You two had begun walking again. "You mean the money I gave you?" You frowned. "I'm gonna pay you back." He smiled. "You dont need to. I have enough. As for the earrings... consider them a gift."

"Gift?"

He hummed, his chest puffed up. "Part of the hospitality of the sultan."

You glared at him before smiling. "Thanks." You two continued to walk around the market, Salauddin gave alms to the poor he encountered. You were standing at another stall, watching in fascination as the man ground up the black powder and mixed it with oils to make kohl. He filled it up in a beautiful vessel before asking if you'd like to try it.

"Oh, I dont know how to." Especially not without a mirror, which the man didnt have. But he was persistent to sell his product and when he looked at Salauddin's kohl lined eyes, he offered it to him.

"Would you apply it on your wife?" This time, Salauddin didnt react like he did the earlier when he was associated with you. He took the wooden stick dipped in the kohl and looked at you for permission.

You gave a nod. He walked upto you, gently cupping your veil covered face. You thanked God for the niqaab, or else he would've seen how violently you were blushing.

"Chin up." He whispered before tilting your chin up. Your eyes shifted as they stared into his brown ones. "Open wide." He ordered, even though your eyes were already saucer shaped from the close proximity.

He began tracing the soft edge of the stick along the waterline of your right eye. He seemed to have noticed that you were holding your breath. "Relax." He softly commanded, patting your cheek with his thumb. That broke you out of your trance as you narrowed your eyes at him.

"Dont tell me what to do." You grumbled. "Open wide." He ordered again bringing the stick up to your left eye for a second coat. You hated the way he commanded you, hated that he seemed to be having his fun with this.

"Dont order-"

"If you dont listen to me, I will marry you today." Your eyes blew wide open in shock.

"What-?!"

"Hush." He smiled placing kohl on your now wide eyes. "Whats wrong? You seemed to enjoy playing my wife but when I joke to marry you, you dont like it."

He's... joking?

Without realising, you blinked causing the still wet kohl to spread in your eyes. Salauddin had pulled the stick back just in time to not poke your eye out.

You hissed in pain, raising your hand to rub your eyes but Salauddin caught your wrist pushing it down.

"Open your eyes, Y/n. Look at me. I said- look at me." You opened your eyes to stare at him, your vision blurry from the mixture of tears and kohl.

Salauddin grabbed his handkerchief and began to dab the excess away as he tutted at you to stay still. Once he was done wiping the excess away, he blew cold air on your irritated eyes gently.

"I swear... if you dont sit still, I really will marry you today." He threatened you as he watched your red eyes glare at him. He didnt like that you were in pain, even if your own stupidity was the cause of it. This time when he applied kohl, you didnt dare to move an inch.

Fortunately, he worked faster this time around.

He gave a nod of approval when he was done. You dont know whether it was because he liked how your eyes looked now or if he was admiring his own work.

Salauddin handed the man money before taking a few bottles of kohl.

For the next hour, you two walked around in silence mostly. The image of your kohl lined eyes occupied his mind, not only because of how beautiful they were but also all the emotions that switched in a matter of seconds. You could try and hide your feelings all you want but your eyes tell. The eyes... they're the window to one's soul.

He saw attraction, anger, mesmerisation, disgust and pain in your eyes. Or maybe he's overthinking this. Maybe it was all just momentary and you really do hate the idea of being married to him.

You were both standing at yet another shop, this one was selling dates. Salauddin walked inside the shop a little more to inspect the quality of the dates, expecting you to be following behind him but when he turned around, you were gone. He walked outside the shop, hoping to find you there but it seemed like you had vanished. Even his guards hadnt seen you.

And then, as Salauddin whipped his head around, he saw the silloutte of your chadar disappearing around the corner. He ran after you, hoping to not lose you in the crowd but as soon as he turned around the corner, he couldnt spot you anywhere. He ran down the street, looking left and right but you werent there.

Where are you, Y/n?

He began walking back towards the main street when in the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of a familiar chadar. He turned his head to the right and there you were, standing with your back to him under the shadow of the large canopy of the shop talking to some man.

He walked up behind you, the man you were talking to seeing him first.

"Y/n." He snapped. You turned startled before your shoulders relaxed at the sight of him. "Oh, its just you. Did you buy the dates?"

Dates? You're asking him about dates after you just made his heart stop for a few minutes?

"Why did you leave me?" Ya Allah, that came out way more desperate than he wanted it to.

"I was getting something from this man." He raised a brow, almost as if he didnt believe you. You sighed. "This is Abbas. I hired him to make some things for me?"

"Such as?" You narrowed your eyes at his accusatory tone before nodding at Abbas, who then pulled out a heaxagonal shaped board that looked somewhat similar to a-

"Its 3 people chess!" You exclaimed, bouncing on your feet as you handed it to Salauddin. "I designed it and had Abbas make it for you!"

"For me?" He asked, turning the board around as he tried to understand how it would work.

"Yeah. I wanted to thank you for saving my life. And for your hospitality. And for lending me money."

His eyes softened slightly. "You dont need to thank me, Y/n. Its... my duty. I'm responsible for you." You waved him off. "Yeah yeah. Look, just take this and I'll teach you how to play so that one day you could play it with your wife and... kid? Or maybe with your wife and Baldwin? Or two wives-?"

"Y/n, I appreciate the gift but I would appreciate your silence more now." You pouted at his words but never the less, you both left to return to the palace, unaware of the eyes watching you two.

The mysterious figure wrote down what he'd seen before using messenger eagle to deliver the note to Jerusalem.

It had almost been a week in Egypt. You and Salauddin were having lunch together when a guard came to him and whispered something in his ear, the sultan frowning.

"Whats wrong?" You asked him.

He looked at you. "Baldwin... he's coming to Egypt."

"What? When?"

"He's crossed the desert. He should be getting here today, in a few hours." Salauddin was still frowning. Why is Baldwin coming to Egypt?

You shook your head. "Baldwin wouldnt ever leave Jerusalem, not unless..." Your eyes widened at the realisation.

"He's coming for a war." Salauddin confirmed.

Fuck.

#yandere baldwin #yandere salauddin #baldwin iv #the leper king #king baldwin iv #salauddin #time traveller au #male yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n

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minkiverse · 8 days

Text

PARK SEONGHWA FIC RECS

Poly!Ateez Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Kim Hongjoong - Jeong Yunho - Kang Yeosang - Choi San - Song Mingi - Jung Wooyoung - Choi Jongho

HWA TIME!! A man who is so earth shatteringly gorgeous of course gets written incredibly by atiny 😩 like this man is just art!! As always, I hope you enjoy and support these authors!!

Dividers by @iluvpooks

DISCLAIMER none of these works are mine and majority are MATURE 18+, please read all warnings before reading!!!

Key:

✨ - My Favs

🔥 - Smut (MINORS DNI)

⛈️ - Angst

💗 - Fluff

🍑 - Humor

SERIES

New Horizons - @fivestar-outlaw 🔥⛈️💗 Idol AU

this is just the cutest series!! like meeting him through animal crossing is the most adorable meet cute i want to cry 😭😭 we all deserve a lil bit of delusion as a treat asfgdssfgdf

The Way to His Heart - @edenesth ⛈️💗Joseon Period ✧ Arranged Marriage AU

im a big BIG fan of historical au's and i just loved reading hwa falling for the mc and then doing everything he can to destroy the people that hurt her 😩😩 that kind of devotion is just soooooooo attractive😍😍 it kinda reminds me of the anime My Happy Marriage (which i did not finish OTL) but if you enjoyed that i think you will love this~~

Wallflower pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 - @tenelkadjowrites 🔥⛈️💗 Office AU

seonghwa is mc's nerdy coworker but boy can he fuck 😩😩😩 the smut in this is 🤌🤌 but honestly this fic is so much more than that and how the mc changes and grows as a person because of hwa's influence is so enjoyable to read i just love them 🥹🥹

Sans - @songmingisthighs ⛈️💗🍑 SMAU ✧ Childhood Friends AU

this author really knows how to break my heart 😭😭😭 definitely be aware of trigger warnings for some chapters!!! but this fic was also so wholesome?? like i just love the mc and how they grow from the events of the story 🥹🥹 SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO SAN AND WOO!!!!

ONE SHOTS/DRABBLES/ETC

sycophant - @ncteez ✨🔥 Business AU

there will always be boss x employee fics BUT this take on it 🤌🤌🤌 hwa is just so attractively straight forward and him teaching the mc on how to dom him is truly just so fucking hot i could scream 😩😩

Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Hybrid AU

The Thing About Pretty Boys - @wonusite ✨🔥 Friends to Lovers AU

never say seonghwa can't fuck.... or maybe do bcs this man goes fucking feral 😵‍💫😵‍💫 i had like a full body physical reaction to how hwa is written in this fic 😩😩 like this is so filthy in the hottest way possible

Dune - @hongism 🔥 Outlaw AU ✧ Biker AU

Untitled - @orgverse 🔥 Sci-fi AU

Warning Signs EP. 1: The Showman - @mphountitled 🔥Rebellion AU

Everyday at the Bus Stop - @tenelkadjowrites 🔥💗

persistent desire - @bro-atz 🔥 College AU

Untitled - @k-hotchoisan 🔥

Red Dress - @wooyoungiewritings ✨🔥⛈️💗 Enemies to Lovers AU

i love a holiday/winter themed fic ok sue me 🫵🫵 its just COZY and this hwa drives me up the wall 😩😩 he's such a charming lil shit and the banter is soooooo good 🫠🫠 i looooooooove this couple!!!!!!!

Scattered bunny!seonghwa thoughts - @thetypingpup 🔥 Hybrid AU

Morning sex with Seonghwa - @k-hotchoisan 🔥

Untitled - @sxcret-garden 🔥

realistic sex with seonghwa - @byuntrash101 🔥

VIP Access - @hwashotcheeto 🔥 Idol AU

multiple??? - @lomlhwa 🔥 Hybrid AU

I Can See You - @daemour 🔥⛈️💗 Single Father!Hwa

Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Hybrid AU

heavy and sticky - @k-hotchoisan 🔥

Untitled - @cheollipop 🔥

Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥

belong to me - @ateezscupid 🔥⛈️ Idol AU

Untiled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Dragon!Teez ✧ Sugar Mommy AU

Untitled - @bombuni 💗

Honest (But Happy) Accident - @ad0rechuu 💗College AU

amazing grace - @yoongiseesawmp3 🔥⛈️💗 Church Boy!Hwa

Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Bad Boy!Hwa

paradigm - @yoongiseesawmp3 ✨🔥 Bartender AU

switch!hwa nuff said 🤤🤤🤤 no but how this author does banter is just so good like idk even know how explain it because it feels so natural and charming and the smut is so fucking good like im in love with hwa and the mc ?????

The Heart's Filthy Lesson - @tenelkadjowrites 🔥⛈️ Toxic BFF!Hwa

Untitled - @hee0soo 🔥

Damnation of a Saint - @byuntrash101 🔥 7 Deadly Sins AU

My Little Empress - @holybibly 🔥 Historical AU ✧ Arranged Marriage AU

the lamb and the wolf - @seonghwaddict 🔥💗 Hades!Hwa

Make Me Water - @bangtanintotheroom 🔥 Friends to Lovers AU

Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Cyberpunk AU

mirror mirror on the wall, who's the filthiest of them all - @almightyddeonghwa 🔥 Idol AU

boyfriend texts - @beenbaanbuun 🍑

#ateez #ateez fic recs #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez smut #ateez fluff #park seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #hi me from the future what was your favorite song off of golden hour #my current guess is blind or siren #merengue makes lists

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lilacsandpetals · 8 months

Text

Frozen Blossoms Pt. 4

Bi-Han x F! reader

Tags and notes: Arranged marriage AU, SFW, slow burn, Pre-MK1/MK1 AU

Last part here.

Next part here.

You don’t know what you should do. If you move, you might wake him up.

It’s interesting to see him like this, you haven’t seen him so relaxed before, it always seemed as if he walked around with a scowl on his face or at the very least, a blank expression. His eyebrows were often furrowed, ever in a state of concern or disapproval. It almost caught you off guard not seeing that wrinkle on his forehead. You reach out gently to touch the spot, almost to check if this is real. Some part of you still believed you were dreaming, especially since you don’t remember falling asleep like this.

The second your fingertips are mere centimeters from him, he wakes up and grabs your hand, hard. You gasp and he immediately lets go before sitting up, “do not do that,” he scowls. You rub your hand sheepishly and look at him, ‘there is that familiar facial expression again.’ “I didn’t think you’d wake up,” you groan.

“Have you forgotten who I am? I’ve been trained to be hyper-aware of my surroundings since I was a child, I am not a light sleeper.”

“I didn’t think of it like that.” ‘So much for starting off on the right foot today.’

“I am rarely at ease, and you prodding at me does not help.”

So he wasn’t relaxed with you. You’re not totally surprised, you two have still only known each other for a limited time, however, you were beginning to grow fond of him.

His words do sting a little.

He watches you rubbing your hand, you appear… sad to him. He didn’t mean to snap like that. He wants to cringe at the guilt that begins to rear its ugly head again.“Give me your hand,” he commands. You place your hand in his and he holds it gently, turning it from one side to the other. It’s cold and there were a few bruises. He felt slightly embarrassed. You weren’t a threat to him, so why did he react like that? Maybe he wasn’t used to the intimacy. He did fall asleep rather close to you. It was uncharted territory for him.

“Give me a moment.” He goes to rummage through his drawer and pulls out some sort of ointment. You sit up before he takes your hand. He uses his fingertips to grab some of the ointment and puts it on your hand. He keeps his gaze focused on your hand and carefully massages it. Soon enough your hand begins to feel better. You watch him carefully, he’s concentrated. When he’s done he looks up and you both lock eyes before he looks away. “Does it feel any better?”

“It does,” you reach out your other hand and place it on his. “Thank you.”

“Consider it repaying a favor.” You seem confused for a moment but are reminded of how you tended to his arm. You smile briefly, you didn’t know he had appreciated that after he left so abruptly, but maybe you’d ask about it at a later time.

“I don’t mean to come off as rude, but I didn’t expect you to be here?” It was certainly well into the morning, practically noon.

‘Neither did I.’ “I am attempting to make amends.”

“Meaning?” His response didn’t quite answer your question.

“I failed to accompany you at the festivities in the village yesterday, but I will accompany you today.”

Only, if you’d still have him.

Some semblance of his being still resisted any attempts to get close to you, yet the desire for you had become increasingly evident. He couldn’t quite see ‘loving’ interactions occurring between you two, not now. And he couldn’t grasp the concept of using such interactions or the thought of it to drive him to improve in his endeavors yet. But he aches for your attention, he longs for you to desire him.

Perhaps he needs to alter his perspective. If he could manage to pursue these actions in a manner akin to a requirement, then it could be seen as a matter of fulfilling another responsibility. Partaking in conversation and activities with you as his wife, it was just another duty for him to maintain. That was manageable.

But even so, how would he properly associate with you? Prior he had only assumed that the main duty you’d serve as his wife, and him as your husband, was maintaining social etiquettes and producing an heir, eventually. But even when that was all he thought of his role as a husband, you managed to snake your way into his subconscious.

Your gentle determination to get closer to him, your adamantly kind nature, your beauty, it intrigued him. Did he entice you as well?

You watch him seem somewhat lost in thought. He was always so reserved when it came to you, it was difficult to pinpoint what he was ever thinking about. You’re pleasantly surprised that he’s brought up an offer of spending time with you. Thinking it over, some petty part of you wants to decline the proposition, but you aren’t going to throw away last night’s progress for the sake of frivolous revenge.

“Okay, let's get ready and we’ll be on our way.”

—------------------

You had never seen Bi-Han in casual clothing before, it was nearly unsettling. The sleepwear he was in this morning retained a dark shade, you felt like it was fitting for him. So this current informal attire was something to get used to. Yet you couldn’t deny that he appeared rather attractive like this. The tunic was a lighter color, the sleeves were cut just below his shoulders, leaving his muscles available for your eyes to feast over. The pants contrasted with the shirt, being a darker shade of gray.

Right now you wanted your morning tea. Did your husband even drink tea? You weren’t too knowledgeable on his eating preferences, he just seemed to eat whatever was in front of him at mealtimes.

He had followed you to the kitchen, leaning up against the wall and watching your every move as you walked about, searching for a teapot. You slid open a cabinet only to be met with the pot sitting on a shelf just out of your reach. You strain to reach the pot before Bi-Han puts a hand on your arm, “Stop struggling, I am able to reach it.” He hands it to you and you thank him. “I’ll make you a cup as well.”

“Sure.”

So he does like tea.

He doesn’t sit at the table but goes back to his spot up against the wall. You boil the water and throw the tea leaves into the pot. “Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Okay.” You bite your lip, it won’t hurt to ask more questions, right? The conversations between you two tended to end as fast as they started. They were brief in nature. Well, all except that argument last night. Maybe he wouldn’t mind you talking more; he said he’d make the effort to engage with you. So you shall hold him to that.

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t you get hungry later on then?”

“If I do, I’ll take care of it.”

You shrug, “fine.” Pouring the tea into your cups, you make sure to blow on it before setting it on the table. Bi-Han quietly sits across from you. Usually, at dinner, he’d sit by your side so you wouldn’t really look at him much. He’d be in your peripheral vision, sure, but that didn’t count. It’s an entirely different ordeal when he sits directly across from you, his eyes are downturned towards the teacup. Slowly the steam subsides from drifting into the air.

You push your cups toward him, “can you cool down mine too? Only a bit.”

He obliges and stares down at his own cup again for what feels like too long. You don’t know what he’s thinking about. He was such a mystery to decipher. It promoted the ever-looming feeling of discomfort. Perhaps today could help remedy that?

“You know, I barely know anything about you.”

“Likewise.”

“Then let’s get to actually know each other, like you promised. I don’t want to spend my life with a stranger.”

He nods his head, he can understand your sentiment. He’ll fulfill his responsibility.

“Okay, where were you when you heard the news of our betrothal?”

“Other than whispers of it at clan meetings, I was in my

bedroom when my parents came in and broke the news to me.”

He takes a small sip of his tea, “and how did you react?”

You pause, “I assume you’re a man who admires honesty. I was nervous.”

He raises an eyebrow, but as if he’s amused at you, “And why is that?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “As if you don’t know.”

“Enlighten me.”

You shoot him an annoyed look while you place your cup down. “Well, future Grandmaster, you must be skilled in reading people. So I’d assume you know why.”

“A very observant claim. And of course, you found it nerve-wracking at the prospect of spending out your days in the presence of my power.”

You cross your arms, was he teasing you on purpose? “Yes, that’s correct, it wasn’t as If my husband-to-be appeared like he could care less. Then suddenly at the engagement, he looked at me like he wanted to drive a stake through my chest.”

Memories of betrothal discussions flash through your mind. His indifference would twist into eyes of vile disdain. Anxiety would rise up within you back then for days on end, and a twinge of it emerged now. Why had you blurted all that out? Perhaps you would have spoken on such a topic if you two had reached a higher level of companionship. But the trepidation of what you had just uttered is calmed when your husband does not appear angered.

Bi-Han can’t help himself. He is slightly satisfied that he was able to evoke a sense of fear within you when you two had first met. Yet that sense of satisfaction derives itself from a point in time where he did not care for you, you had been akin to an inconvenience in his mind and the fact that you had looked upon him as if he were some sort of beast only drove his ego. However, had you felt that way about him currently, well, he would be displeased.

Your husband appears contemplative to you, tapping his finger against the table, miniscule shards of ice emerge where his finger hits the table. “And what am I in your eyes now?”

You take a moment to think it over, “I think I’ll have a concrete answer at the end of the day. My turn to ask the questions.” Thoughts run through your mind as you debate on what to bring up. Maybe it would be helpful to start at the beginning.

“What was life like growing up? From what I’ve heard and seen, I assume it was intense.”

Bi-Han tilted his head. “Perhaps, yes. I didn’t like it when I was very young, but I consider it a blessing now.”

You rest your head in the palm of your hand and take in the sight of his well-sculpted arms and broad shoulders. “It must’ve been a lot of hard work, I wouldn’t know if I’d be able to maintain that.”

“Discipline from a young age is essential and the work required of any Lin Keui, anything less is unworthy of the title.” You frown slightly, but quickly catch yourself.

His childhood was laden with heavy burdens: strict schedules, relentless training, and endless lessons. It helped refine him. He’d never admit it, but it was exhausting at times. he’d take solace in the moments he’d be able to elude it all. Fleeting memories dance within his mind. Memories of a time when perhaps he was a bit happier, when he was kinder, when his view of the realm wasn’t so cold.

But that was long ago, things were different now.

“You acknowledge that our child will endure a similar upbringing.” His face seems serious when he says it. To be honest, since the wedding night, you haven’t even thought about producing an heir. The idea of it always felt like a distant afterthought, something you could push off thinking about.

Your childhood was not as strenuous as your husband’s, so the thought that your own child would have to deal with such burdens frightened you.

Your husband’s face appears analytical and you sigh “I understand how a child would be raised here, but surely there were moments of rest or enjoyment? I feel as if that’d be a concern of mine, it would be for any mother, correct?”

Bi-Han’s jaw tenses slightly and you fear you may have struck a nerve. You’ve never heard him mention his mother. You are aware that she passed many years ago, but nothing more than that. You are about to change the subject when your husband speaks up once more.

“My mother gave me the pleasure of tending to me when I needed her. You will be allowed to do the same.”

You nod your head slowly. He was quite vague, so you decide it may be best to halt your questioning about the subject. Just then your stomach grumbles and you clear your throat, slightly embarrassed. Bi-Han leans forward onto the table, “If you’re hungry, go eat. Do not wait for my sake.” You pick a piece of fruit from the bowl sitting on the table and take a small bite. “I was going to make soup for myself later since it’s been getting colder.”

His interest is piqued.“Which kind?”

You rest your chin on your hand, “I’m not sure yet.”

He appears contemplative, “chicken and mushroom is satiating.”

You smile, “I can make that.”

—------------------

You needed some ingredients, and you had informed your husband of that. He offered to retrieve them while you remained at home, but you reminded him of his vow today. So here you are, walking about in the village with him. It’s oddly domestic. You make sure to savor this moment. The village is still lively today, reeling down from the prior festivities.

Bi-Han’s hand is wrapped around yours while you two walk into the marketplace, you move your hand and it feels as if your husband held on for a moment too long. “I only need a few things.” “Go ahead,” and so you begin your search. You stop at different vendors, weaving through the marketplace to acquire your needed Ingredients. Your husband follows closely behind, paying for whatever you happen to grab.

Bi-Han likes watching you operate. These tasks are simple, yet you seem entirely focused. Your eyebrows furrow and you slightly purse your lips when you examine a vegetable before happily tossing it into your bag. He found it somewhat endearing. Since when did he think of you like that? He shakes his head to himself and looks back up to keep an eye on you. You were moving through the shops with ease, and he was keen on not losing you in the crowd. His eyes narrow when a man comes up to you to speak.

It’s easy to decipher when an individual comes up to you for genuine inquiries, versus when they would have ulterior intentions. A few of them were nervous, he could tell by the way they failed to maintain eye contact or tripped over their words. On the other hand, some seemed all too confident in their approach.

He didn’t know if you acted so kindly just to get a rise out of him or if you truly were oblivious. The desire to rip those men apart was present, but he could maintain his cool. So instead he would hover closer to you and shoot a distasteful glare at anyone whom he deemed a nuisance. His hand would hover over the small of your back. He longed to move his hand only an inch closer but the realization that he’s never touched you there before keeps such an act at bay.

You can practically feel his eyes starting a hole through the back of your head whenever those types of interactions occur. Yet you pretend not to notice.

Your bags fill up quickly and keep both of your hands occupied. Suddenly, Bi-Han takes them out of your hands.“Thank you,” you respond, only to hear a grunt in response. “I think I have everything, we may head back.” He nods and leads you back, keeping a small pace ahead of you. You quietly follow along, glancing at his form again before keeping your eyes trained on the path ahead. The trip itself was brief and unimportant, but even so, you appreciated his company.

—------------------

You were decent, but you were not an accomplished cook. You had merely helped your mother in making the soup on occasion, so you prayed that you remembered the recipe well enough.

Bi-Han hovered nearby as you set the ingredients out in front of you. You looked at him and then back at the needed items. He seemed so focused on your every move. Cooking for yourself was one thing, but preparing food for another was an uncertain affair. You hoped you would not disappoint.

Your knife slices through the meat, “you’re making me nervous.”

Bi-Han crossed his arms, “how?”

“You’re watching me like you’re about to tally points for an exam.”

“I’m curious as to how you prepare it, I’m simply observing.”

You motion over to the rest of the ingredients on the table, “doing triumphs observing.”

He wants to counter your claim, but something within him quiets the retort. He grabs some of the vegetables you’ve put aside and creates a precise blade of ice. He finds himself enjoying slicing through the needed components. The precision in maintaining a consistent width is something he’s keen on.

The atmosphere in the kitchen is calm. And you again take silent delight at the domestic feel. Soon enough you’ve thrown every ingredient into the pot on the stove and you both quietly clean up. “It’ll take a while to cook.” You catch sight of an exit to the kitchen that leads out into a quaint veranda. Bi-Han follows your gaze and starts towards it, you follow him and sit down on the bench. Dusk has already arrived and you close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. Your husband is leaning up against a wooden beam so you gently pat the open spot next to you. Not a word leaves his mouth but he obliges to your request. You want to hold his hand, but instead, you hook your arm around his. You can feel him tense up. You try to drown out the sense of slight disappointment, was he still so opposed to your touch? Still, he hasn’t pulled away so you don’t breach the topic.

He wants to wrap an arm around you, draw you nearer to him, but you beat him to it when your arm wraps around his, and before he knows it your head is resting against his shoulder.

Your fingertips gently trace up his forearm to his bicep. His arm tenses just enough for you to notice but the more time that passes, the more relaxed he becomes. You don’t know how long you repeat the motion, lost in the serene ambiance that accompanies you both this evening.

Bi-Han has rarely allowed himself a simple pleasure like this. Your effortless touch has indulged an unspoken desire of his.

“You’re strong.”

He glances down towards you, you seem so small compared to him. “Of course I am.”

You let out a small laugh “Yes, but I am increasingly reminded of it when I look at your physique.” Your nails gently run down his arm and he feels the hair on the back of his neck rise. You turn your face to look up at him, you’re both rather close. He is inclined to look away, turn from the object of his temptations, but you draw him in nonetheless. For once, he wants to lean forward ever so slightly, but the opportunity evades him when you turn away.

Your heart is beating fast, you haven’t gotten this close to him before. “I have to go to check the soup.” You stand up quickly. And although he mourns the loss of your touch, he lets you go.

You return to the kitchen, stirring the pot while attempting to cool yourself down.

‘What was that?’ Both of you are left slightly surprised at the sense of longing that has seeped into the two of you, unbeknownst to the other.

—------------------

He remained outside. Against his own perceived notions, he had enjoyed today.

You continued the task of preparing the soup, carefully pouring it into a bowl for each of you before placing it on the table. The chill in the air reaches you as you venture out to retrieve your husband. He hasn’t spoken since you went back to the kitchen, keeping his eyes trained on the sky above.

“Bi-Han, the soup is done.”

He turns back to look at you, the moonlight is illuminating your face. Your eyes hold a softness within them that he finds himself yearning for. “I’ll be there.” He turns his back towards you again. You could nag him, but you find yourself placing a hand on his shoulder instead, “Come on.” Something unspoken lays between you two, but he doesn’t utter a word. His hand just barely brushes up against yours as if he meant to pat it. He gets up and sits at the table. You resume your place across from him.“Try it. I’m not promising anything amazing, but something decent.” You push the bowl towards him and cross your arms on the table, anticipating his response.

He takes a sip, it’s somewhat bitter, more savory. It reminds him of his mother’s meals. She wasn’t the best cook. Yet when it came to him and his brother, she wanted to ensure at least one meal of the day was of her hands. His mother was strict, and dedicated to the stern and rigorous ways of Lin Keui.

But still, she loved him in her own way. Whether it was ensuring he ate well, binding up his wounds from training, or staying by his side as he fell asleep. The loss of his mother and its repercussions haunted him. No matter how many days, weeks, or years went by, there would always be something rendering his life incomplete. But here, even if it’s just for a moment, the burden of evading her memory is lifted. He allows himself to be taken back to a simpler time.

You eat the soup in silence with him. Any attempt to obtain feedback on your cooking lies unspoken on your tongue. You are eager to ask, but something about him seems relaxed. Genuinely relaxed. So you decide you’ll wait for him to voice his opinions, but that never comes.

He finishes the meal quietly.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

—------------------

To be honest, you don’t even like chicken and mushroom soup that much. You wouldn’t have chosen to make it, but you decide that he doesn’t need to know that. It’ll remain your secret.

—------------------

You both retire to your quarters soon after, taking solace in a newfound sense of familiarity.

You both are yet to change in front of one another, but that’s not at the forefront of your mind. You’re content with the fact that you’ve chipped away at part of the invisible wall that resides between you both.

The bed seems softer today, and more welcoming. And you know it’s because your husband has finally come to bed with you. Under the comforting veil of night, you dare to lay facing him and he returns the sentiment. For now, he allows himself the quaint pleasure of being able to look at you without loathsome yearning.

You made him feel odd, dragging him out of his usual state of being to the point where it slightly unnerved him. The realization clawed its way to the forefront of his brain; that as the day went on, he didn’t find being in your company as a responsibility to be fulfilled. Your presence was comforting.

You were tired. Your eyes start to feel heavy before a knock sounds at the door. “Who is that?”

Bi-Han gets up, ignoring your question, and goes off to speak to someone in the hallway. You can barely make out the words being exchanged, but suddenly you’re watching your husband move about the room. You avert your eyes when he gets changed, although you do sneak a glance this time. You snap out of it when he’s grabbing his mask. Your feet scramble to get out of bed and catch him when he gets to the door. Your hand grasps his forearm.

“Wait! You have to leave now?”

“Yes.” You intake a sharp breath of air, and he seems to notice your startled state. “What?” He says in a more lighthearted tone than you’re used to, “Did you foolishly assume the Lin Keui only operated in the morning?”

“No…” You took a deep breath. You’d expect him to pull away from you and leave, but he didn’t. It seemed like he was waiting for you to lift your hand. You’ve never seen him off like this. You knew this was part of what he did, what their clan did, and still a part of you felt worried. You looked up to meet his gaze, his eyes expressed more than his mouth ever could. When you first met him, you found his eyes to be cold and calculating, but something was different now.

“Be safe.” You said softly. Your hand gently finds its way down to his before you pull away. He gives you a small nod and moves to go out the door. You see him pause and think that maybe he’s forgotten something. But before you can ask he returns to you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward. He leans down and hastily places a kiss on your forehead, “I’ll return soon.” And like that, he’s off.

You watch him leave and wonder how such a simple interaction could evoke so much warmth within you.

—------------------

Thanks for reading 💙

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chlorinecake · 10 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐏’𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 — a yang jungwon fanfic

𖦹 ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: from the sweet boy you met at your cafe job to an obsessive psycho, yandere!yang jungwon goes to extreme measures to ensure that you’re his.

➳ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: mentions of food, abduction and yandere themes, swearing, violence, crying, angst, hickeys, non-con kissing and touching, nudity ~

𖦹 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.4k | read pt. 2 , 3 , and 4 here

"I brought you some treats! I hope you’re hungry!" Jungwon placed the woven basket of freshly made delights before you on the center of the picnic mat, his cheerful voice snatching your focus from the daunting thoughts clouding your mind.

"Thank you, Won-ah," you smiled, feigning a sense of gratitude towards his unusual gesture.

"So," he began, revealing the goodie’s hidden beneath the white cloth of the basket. "What do you think of my garden?"

"Well, it’s a change that I’ll have to learn to get used to," you admitted, too timid to meet his curious feline eyes. "My life in the city followed a work-sleep-repeat schedule," you went on. "Where I’m from, no one really cared to spend their free time outdoors. Your garden, though... it’s rather strange at best, especially considering that you’ve maintained it all by yourself."

Jungwon simply nodded in response as he arranged a few sandwiches and a bowl of sweet cream and sugar-soaked strawberries for the two of you on a sharing platter, savoring one of the bright red berries in his mouth.

"Jungwon?"

He swallowed and said, "Yes, my love?"

"Are you going to keep me here forever?"

Chirping birds in the distance temporarily filled the silence.

"Hmm… When you’re deeply in love with someone, you often like to think that time is an irrelevant variable. I would say that forever is quite a strong word, yet, a perfect one to describe my infinite love for you." His eyes lit up at the mere thought of infinity and beyond with you, the love of his life.

You nodded in response, taking a corner of one of the sandwiches Jungwon had prepared into your mouth, sinking your teeth into the soft white bread.

"I’m not much of a cook, but I tried to recreate the little sandwiches you used to make me at the cafe to the best of my ability. I remember when you recommended that I try them because they were your favorite lunch item on the menu." He smiled to himself at the memory before searching your features for any clue as to what was going on in your head.

"It’s not identical, but I almost prefer your version of the treat," you admitted, trying to mask the awkwardness between you two. "It’s sweeter. Softer. Unlike the stale bread and recycled fruit I’d make them with at the cafe,"

Jungwon chuckled in response, and your lips couldn’t help but tug upward at each corner. Deep down, you wanted to believe that somewhere in Jungwon’s twisted brain, he was the same shy and innocent boy you previously met at your cafe job on a slow Tuesday morning.

The boy you wanted to learn more about at your own pace and on your own terms.

The boy you used to dream would somehow save you from the mundane patterns of your exhausting city life.

Though, in an odd way, you got what you asked for.

"Jungwon?"

"Yes," he answered, yet asked, slightly curious about your reasons for wanting to question him again.

"Are you anything like the ‘you’ I met before all this?"

It had only been three days since Jungwon had abducted you, hiding you away in his garden of arcane wonders. Before today, you and him had hardly made any conversation since you arrived here, as he didn’t see any need for chatting given the fact that you two had already gotten to know each other personally. Just yesterday, he offered to give you a tour of one of the smaller greenhouses he owned, saying that you would have to wait a while before he showed you the rest of his field. Presently, this is your first time leaving your "room" since day one, mostly for Jungwon’s selfish desires of wanting to have a little picnic date with you. Perhaps this was all a ploy to manipulate your trust. Nonetheless, you wanted to use this time with Jungwon as an opportunity to ask him to clarify his deeper intentions. The only things Jungwon had made verbally clear to you were a set of rules for you to follow and that you were his and his only.

He cleared his throat before saying, "Yes. I am the same Jungwon that you met at the cafe as I am now and always will be. The only thing that’s changed are my feelings for you. They’ve grown since I brought you here with me. Since I’ve shared this part of my life with you." A forlorn expression waved over his features for a moment. He looked into your weak eyes as if speaking to your soul.

"I love you."

You felt obligated to say a set of three words back to him, but they were caught in your throat. You swallowed your own resistance and blurted out a shaky, "I love you, too, Jungwon," hoping that you sounded as sincere as you wanted him to believe you were. It’s not that you were incapable of ever loving Jungwon. At one point, you felt like you almost did. Unfortunately, all of those "what ifs" went out the window after the garden. Even after considering Jungwon’s plea for innocence, you felt in your gut that you still couldn’t trust him. Rightfully so, given that he had already betrayed your trust on such a level. Your false confession of love rang true to Jungwon’s ears, and the forlorn look on his face faltered, being replaced with his familiar smile. It startled you to see how the smile of his that used to comfort you had already become one of fright.

"Come here," he said, motioning for you to sit on his lap in a lotus position. He braced the small of your back with his larger hand, the other hand alternating between exploring either your thigh, cheek, or loose baby hairs. You could hardly keep eye contact with him, missing the close proximity you two had once enjoyed on the checkered picnic mat.

"I think it’s only fair that I ask you a question of my own, seeing that you’ve interrogated me twice thus far."

In that moment, Jungwon somehow made you feel guilty for not trusting him. It's been a few days, and you’ve been alright as rain under his sheltering. He certainly had been as sweet as the boy you first met, but you still couldn’t let his words disregard the facts. Jungwon had kidnapped you and never intended on letting you go. He lured you in like a fish in water, and you took the bait. Trying to avoid asking him what he wanted to know, as that would be yet another question on your behalf, you confessed, saying: "Whatever the question may be, I promise to answer you truthfully this time. I’m sorry for lying to you about certain things in the past."

You looked so submissive in Jungwon’s eyes while situated in his lap with your legs wrapped around him, his greedy hands left to explore your soft skin and every curve of your anxious body. You regained some ability to maintain eye contact with him while you awaited his question, your docile doe eyes opening a gate to Jungwon’s wildest fantasies of you, as your two hearts were the only beats present in this lonely field. You noticed Jungwon’s previously innocent aura falter into a darker, more lustful one upon feeling the sensation of his length growing harder beneath you. Your eyes fell to his lap and widened at the sight of his bulge.

"Jungwo-" he stopped you mid-sentence by taking your chin in his free hand, forcing you to meet his eyes. He remembered your previous confession of dishonesty regarding your past interactions with him, inspiring a catalog of questions he wanted to ask you before settling on the one most important to him.

"____," he sighed, feeling his body tingle all over at the mere contact with your now goosebump-bathed skin. This state had you both scared for different reasons. For him, it was the closeness of the moment—an obedient you cradled in his embrace like he’d always dreamed of. For you, it was also the closeness, coupled with the sight of an obsessed and hungry Jungwon biting back every will in his body to ravish you on the spot. The dainty meal he had prepared was long forgotten, likely to be left to insects and other wild life to feast upon in the meantime. He smoothed the tiny bumps on your nervous arm with a hard hand, hoping to ease your apparent nerves that only grew with the delay of his question.

"Were you lying to me when you said you weren’t a virgin?"

The question caused a pit to form in your stomach. It was written all over your face. However, as in most cases, Jungwon was more concerned with your answer than how his question made you feel. The fact that he was already hard just made the situation even more painful. He seemed to be patient for your response, but you didn’t want to push your luck and forced yourself to answer, but only with a soft mumble.

"Yes, I- I'm a virgin," you regretfully admitted, looking away from his face again, feeling some sort of strange shame. Silence filled the air as you awaited a sentence from Jungwon that never came. Only his pouty lips linked with yours, not exactly according to the way you previously would’ve preferred your first kiss with him to be, and certainly not under such circumstances. You instinctively pulled away in disgust, but luckily, with him being caught up in his own delusions, he saw your resistance to his kiss as a break for air. Suddenly, the dreamy boy you met in the cafe lost all of his charm, looking no different from a casual pervert.

"You’re mine. From the moment I saw you, I fucking knew your soul belonged to me. It’s hard to believe a beautiful girl like you is so intimately pure." He laved at his own lips, trying to steady his breathing.

"Were you waiting for me? Love?"

You struggled in his grip, senselessly trying to get away from him, knowing that you wouldn’t get very far.

"What is it, _____? I thought you loved me," his voice cracked, almost in a confused cry.

"Eugh!" you squirmed as he held you tighter.

"You can’t force me to love you back!"

That comment stung like a needle in his heart.

"Force you? So you lied to me. Again?"

"I can learn to love you, Jungwon! Just not like this!" You pleaded with him, your eyes beginning to well with tears. Though his despair soon returned to its original lustful desires. He pushed you off of his lap and pinned you by your hands to the picnic mat, your arms framing your head so gracefully.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this—to be so close to you that we’re breathing each other’s air," he confessed in between a trail of wet kisses, his sugary pink saliva glistening on your neck and collarbone under the sunlight peeking through the trees. He hungrily nibbled on your exposed skin, causing a moan to erupt from your throat unintentionally. The vibrations from your throat tantalized his lips, forcing a low grunt from him as he smirked against your flesh, the once-uncomfortable nips turning into painful pinches. His hand focused on kneading your hip before gripping your waist, the other curiously hovering over one of your breasts before taking hold of it like his life depended on it.

"Please, Jungwon-ah," you whimpered, your tears still too shy to fully come out, or perhaps it was the newfound anger and hate you’d developed for him that hindered your tears from flowing. He stopped his ministrations to your neck and chest momentarily, his elbows caging you beneath him. He stared at you with an uncanny fondness, thinking to himself how much he’d like to force those bashful tears out of your eyes with his greedy dick alone.

"Shh, my flower... You have nothing to be afraid of. You’re safe here with me," he said in a soft voice, causing you to spiral in your head, a thick tear finally daring to tip over the damp edge of your lower eyelid. His eyes followed the tear, sliding down your cheeks before resting in the crook of your chest. He dove down to catch the liquid with his tongue, but was halted by a harsh slap planted right across his face. ‘Why did I do that?’ you thought to yourself.

"You little bitch," he cursed, flipping you on your stomach and restraining your movements with much greater success than before. He unzipped his pants and pressed his hardness on your back, leaning close enough to your ear so you could hear the sick nothings he whispered to you.

"Do you feel that, love? That’s how much power you have over me. My manhood has always been my weakest member. It submits to you in ways I both love and hate. But I have control over your entire body, and don’t you ever fucking forget that," he ordered, sitting on your legs as he hurriedly stammered to remove your clothing. You knew that at this point, fighting wouldn’t help you, but the haste with which your clothes were flying off your body only added fuel to your rage. You felt foolish, used, and soon to be abused under his tight grip. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and you damned yourself for not seeing it any sooner. A cacophony of thoughts ran through your head, making you feel much more than half-crazy. You wanted to cry, and you did. You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t. The only sound that escaped your mouth was a weak, raspy sentence:

"I’m not a flower, Jungwon."

He stopped abruptly, staring at your bare and bruised figure beneath him, glistening in a sheen of sweat. Your rebuttal rang true in his ears, and he said to himself, yes, you were indeed far from a flower. For now, that is. His aggressive demeanor switched to that of a more calm and understanding one. He leaned down to gently peck an appealing corner of your neck that he had previously marked, a cherry red hue rising to the surface of your skin. He then trailed a finger down your spine, saying something that you didn’t know was either to you or himself.

"Why didn’t I think of that before? Every flower ought to have petals." You were very confused yet grateful that the abuse didn’t go any further, with Jungwon leaping off of your tired body and running off to his personal shed, leaving a naked, crying you sprawled upon the checkered picnic mat alone under the sun. The once tasty delights had become the second most disgusting thing in the dreaded garden, with Jungwon placing first.

………………………………………………………………………………….

✎ ᴀ/ɴ: in no way, shape, or form does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. i simply write for entertainment and creative purposes. thus, reader discretion is always advised.

☆ ᴘ.ꜱ: this is my first fanfic, so i really hope you all enjoyed this short story! if it seems like i got a little carried away with myself here, it’s because i originally wrote this idea about someone else but changed my mind last minute haha… feel free to put in any requests for future works and provide feedback! love always <3

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