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#because that wasn’t her future . that wasn’t her fate
kuroshika · 6 months
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gifs from @existingcharactersdiehorribly // poetry by me
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sansaorgana · 1 month
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— THROWN TO THE WOLVES (IX)
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PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE PART FOUR || PART FIVE || PART SIX PART SEVEN || PART EIGHT || PART TEN
PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Atreides!OC
SUMMARY — Feyd-Rautha focuses on bringing back the spice production to full efficency while his wife plots against The Baron. The ghosts of her past are haunting her in the Arrakeen Palace where her family lived and died.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is Paul Atreides’ half-sister. This chapter is quite long so I think the next one will be the last...? Of course I am open to write some additional chapters with these characters in the future 👀 Thank you everyone supporting my work 🙏🏻😭 I don't know when I'll post the next / last chapter. Next week I hope but it might take me more time than usual because I have to catch up with uni work finally lol
WARNINGS — arranged marriage, mentions of sexual activities (no actual smut), violent behaviour, death
WORD COUNT — 8,170
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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THROWN TO THE WOLVES (IX)
Feyd-Rautha was barely able to hide his excitement on that day. Becoming the Governor of Arrakis was a huge deal – not only it proved that he was his uncle’s worthy successor if he was given such responsibility, but also Arrakis remained the most important planet under the Harkonnen rule due to the spice resources. Controlling this planet was like controlling the universe.
Before the official ceremony would begin, he had to deal with the formalities, all dressed up in the accurate black leather attire and pride on his face. Then his wife entered the throne room accompanied by the guards and from that moment he could only focus on her.
Her black leather dress’ design was mimicking his uniform’s one and her face was hidden by the veil made of chains and gemstones. She walked past him and bowed down in front of his uncle. Feyd knew that was the custom but it still made him clench his jaw and blood boil.
She straightened herself and fixed her dress on her abdomen as it was getting too tight in that area. Feyd smirked at the sight of her womb getting visibly swollen with his child. With his heir.
His wife signed the contract about him becoming the new Governor of Arrakis as the Atreides signet ring sparkled on her pinky finger. The truth was, her signature was not required there at all but the Baron loved to humiliate her in this way. However, she managed to do it with such dignity. Feyd wondered if she still felt like an Atreides. That signet ring wasn’t leaving her pinky finger at all ever since it had been adjusted to her size.
He wondered if it was a symbol of power for her or did she keep it for sentimental reasons.
Sentiment. That word was new in Feyd-Rautha’s dictionary. But now, when he watched his wife standing behind him with her hands clasped on her womb, he swore he could feel it.
He couldn’t explain most of the things happening inside his body at the sight of her. It was more than plain desire or sexual attraction. In fact, he had had lovers more adventurous than her and surely more experienced. But he had never met a woman like that.
She made him think of his mother, especially now, when she was expecting his child. He wondered what kind of mother she would be. Would she… love… his son? Or would he be another pawn in her court games…?
His mother was cold and distant but only recently Feyd had realised it was no reason to kill her. Was it possible that some part of him regretted it? His uncle had manipulated him into doing something he couldn’t truly understand back in the day – an act impossible to undo and sealing his murderous fate.
But even his mother had never touched him so gently like his wife. And he knew that it was weak to crave that but he did – he craved more from her and her only. He would kill anyone looking at her the wrong way but she could disrespect him in any way and he’d still be on his knees for her. He had never been as obedient to his uncle. He had feared him as a little boy and then he had hated him, waiting for his turn on the Harkonnen throne. The obedience to his wife was dictated by admiration and… sentiment.
Yes, that was a new word in his dictionary.
And his harpies… Well, he had been attached to them but killing them had felt cold – he hadn't even felt sorry.
The room slowly filled with people who were to witness his nomination for the Governor of Arrakis. Feyd stood proudly and already imagined the day he would be nominated The Baron Harkonnen.
And when his uncle officially named him the Governor, Feyd grabbed his face and brought it down for an angry kiss that was a mockery of gratitude. In that kiss there was a promise of the upcoming succession of the much more important title. In that kiss there was the Harkonnen poison and everyone cheered but the Baron knew.
He knew.
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You were laying on your bed on the ship inside your cabin and playing with the Atreides signet ring on your pinky finger. It felt surreal to realise that under different circumstances you would had made the same journey a few months earlier with your family when your father had been gifted Arrakis.
Your stream of thoughts was interrupted abruptly by Feyd walking inside the cabin.
“Apparently, Rabban has no idea we are coming,” he announced with a smirk and sat on the bed next to you, waiting for your approval like a little boy after telling his mother exciting news.
“Why do you hate him so?” You only asked and his smirk dropped in an instant. “Is he not your brother?”
“Do you love yours?” Feyd tilted his head a little as he watched you carefully.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you smiled sadly at him and caressed your bump. “He is dead and so is his older sister. But in that relationship, I was Rabban and Paul was you.”
“I am better than Rabban. He means nothing,” Feyd shrugged his arms, visibly annoyed at the fact that you scolded him and started asking questions instead of sharing his excitement.
“Do you think you will catch a tan on Arrakis?” You changed the subject and chuckled at the confused glance he gave you.
“I’m not going there for vacation,” he moved closer to you on the bed and placed his hand on your womb. You felt its warmth spreading all over your body. “And neither are you,” he reminded you.
“I know.”
“The medic says that the Arrakis might do you good. The sun and all,” Feyd explained, a bit awkwardly.
“Yes, I know. But it is also not a very pleasant environment. It is hot and dry,” you sighed. “And full of spice.”
“You will have everything you want and need there, my Baroness,” Feyd leaned in to suck on your neck – his idea of a romantic kiss. You leaned back and sighed at the pleasure.
“How big do you think he is now?” You caressed your husband’s hand gently and he moved away from the crook of your neck to look into your eyes. “Our son. Do you think he is still smaller than your hand?” You bit on your lower lip. “I like to imagine him so little that your hand covers him whole when you place it on my womb.”
“Do you think of him often?” Feyd asked and you furrowed your brows at his question.
“Of our son?” You wanted to make sure and he nodded. “All the time,” you answered with all honesty. “And you…?” You asked, carefully.
“All the time,” Feyd nodded and looked down at his hand caressing your bump.
“And what do you think?” You were scared to know the answer but you needed to know it.
“I’m proud to have a son. He will be the Baron one day and I will train his body to become even stronger than mine. And you will train his mind to be sharp like yours,” Feyd looked at you. He was serious but you chuckled at that as you caressed his cheek with your thumb.
“Just promise me that you won’t do to him what has been done to you,” you whispered as the smile disappeared from your face. “Please,” you pleaded.
“It has to be done,” was all he said as his jaw clenched.
“No, it doesn’t,” you shook your head. You could feel the tears forming in your eyes. Thinking of what your husband had gone through was painful enough but imagining your son going through the same thing was even worse.
“How else do you want him to be a great warrior?” Feyd laughed at you. “He will need discipline.”
“Discipline does not have to mean abuse. I want him to follow your steps out of admiration and respect. Do you want your own son to feel the same way towards you that you feel towards your uncle?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you want your son to plot how to get rid of you? To wait impatiently for you to finally die and rot?”
“No, I do not,” he admitted after a short while of hesitation.
“Then we will do it my way,” you stated.
“I don’t want my children to be weaklings,” Feyd drawled as his hand squeezed your womb possessively.
“Neither do I,” you assured him. “And it insults me greatly that you think that I would raise them to be weak. I hate weakness,” you gave him a stern look.
“There’s your answer why I hate my brother,” he said and moved down to lay his head on your womb. You carefully caressed his temples in a soothing manner.
You still had to play little games with him sometimes, you assumed it would always be like this one way or another. But you loved him. Yes, you loved him.
Princess Atreides would rather die than admit that. For the Harkonnen na-baroness it was difficult to admit her feelings, too. But you didn’t mind giving up and finally allowing yourself to confess the truth. It was making you feel less lonely in the world. Perhaps it was love dictated by the fact you had no one else around. Perhaps you loved the way he worshipped you. Perhaps you loved him for the way he was making you feel so powerful and important. But at the end of the day, it was love. Not that you planned to say it out loud.
It was true that you hated weakness but Feyd-Rautha was yours. If he was to die, you’d die, too. You had no home to go to, no family member to turn to. All you had was him. Him and the dream of the life you two were supposed to live one day.
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You knew that the black colour was a bad choice for the planet like Arrakis. But you couldn’t imagine wearing anything else. As a Harkonnen you had to establish dominance in your House’s way. Your arrival dress had to be black and made of a flowy material with a semi-transparent veil to protect your skin from the hot rays of sunshine and the wind full of harsh sand and spice.
The very first step you took outside the ship nearly made you dizzy. It felt so odd after so many months to feel the sunlight on your skin and to see the colours while not being inside any building – even if the colours of Arrakis were not many.
“My Lady,” Astra and Cara followed you outside, both widening their big, black Harkonnen eyes at the sight of the desert, “are you alright?”
“Yes, my girls, I am,” you held their hands.
“Let’s go inside, na-baroness,” the medic joined you. “At this time of the day it is recommended not to go out,” he explained and you nodded before following him with your girls, guards and all the servants carrying your things. Feyd was already inside the palace with his uncle and dealing with an embarrassed and humiliated Rabban.
You looked up through your veil and examined the sight of the building in front of you. It was not much cosier than the Harkonnen fortress on Giedi Prime. On the inside the design was raw as well, but some part of you was already used to such an environment.
“My Lady,” one of the servants approached you. He had already been living there for quite some time now as he had come to Arrakis with Count Rabban. “Shall we prepare the rooms for you and na-baron or will you take the room that belonged to the previous Duke? Count Rabban did not take it, therefore we left it untouched,” he informed you and you froze for a second.
“My father’s room? It is left untouched?” You gasped.
“Yes, my Lady na-baroness, Duchess Atreides,” the man was bowing down so low you became concerned about his spine.
“Enough of the titles, take me there,” you ordered and then you turned around at your servants. “Wait here. I will let you know what room I am taking.”
“My Lady,” they all nodded as you followed the man alone. You didn’t want even Astra and Cara around you because you couldn’t tell what your reaction to your father’s chambers would be.
“Behind that door, na-baroness,” the servant bowed down and pointed at the doors. You pushed them and let them close behind you as your body trembled at the sight. You lifted the veil off of your face and looked around.
The room was arranged in a similar way as your father’s chamber back on Caladan. Duke Leto hated any form of mess and he had everything always put in its place. You wandered around and touched all the personal belongings – his chair, his desk… You froze at the sight of the pictures he had there. One picture was of him and Lady Jessica, the other one was of you and Paul. There was even a tiny picture from his wedding day with your mother. You remembered that picture very well as you had once asked him about it. He had told you he kept it out of respect for her and for you.
You had no idea he would still keep it even if you weren’t around.
You opened the desk. Someone had been rummaging inside – most likely to take the jewellery and the important documents. But the personal letters stayed. Personal letters and… a small doll.
You had given it to him at the age of four and asked him to take care of it. You didn’t expect he had been keeping it all these years.
“Oh, father…” you whispered and brought the doll close to your heart. “One day, it will be my daughter’s,” you decided and were about to walk away from the desk when you spotted an unfinished letter.
Carefully and curiously, you picked the paper up and read the few sentences that he had written down before taking a break and never being able to go back to it again.
Dear Daughter, I am aware of the anger and all the resentment you must be holding in your heart towards me. I am not asking for much but please, write back to us. If not for me, then do it for Paul. We both miss you dearly and we are worried when you are not answering our letters personally. All we want to know is if you are safe and…
Your eyes widened and your heart skipped a beat. So, they had been writing to you. All this time... And only Baron Harkonnen knew how many letters had been kept away from you. Of course he had lied to you. How could you be so stupid…?
You clenched your fist and then threw the crumpled paper back into the drawer. It didn’t change anything now. It brought you some peace, deep down, but it didn’t mean anything anymore. It wouldn't take back time.
You approached your father’s bed and spotted a robe laying there, discarded. He would wear that over his nightwear when he was leaving the room in the middle of the night due to an emergency. You assumed that the Harkonnen invasion was an emergency so sudden and violent that he had no time to put it on.
The robe was silk and dark green with the Atreides emblem on the chest. You sat on the edge of the bed and put the doll down on your lap before taking the robe in your hands and squeezing it as you brought it to your face. It still faintly smelled like him. It smelled like your father.
You buried your face in the silk and closed your eyes, remembering his embrace. For a short while it was almost as if he was still there, holding you and telling you it would be alright.
But it wasn’t alright. It hadn’t been alright and his daughter had died. You couldn’t tell when it happened exactly. Had Princess Atreides die in that cell on the night before her wedding? Or when she had been locked up after the Baron had told her about going to Arrakis and killing her family? Or maybe she had died somewhere in the meantime. Perhaps when she had seen Feyd taking an innocent life for the first time. It was really hard to tell but she was definitely gone now.
You startled at the sound of someone entering the room without knocking. It was Feyd – no one else would dare to do that.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said and froze at the sight of you holding your father’s robe. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” you stood up and threw the robe on the floor as you picked the doll up. “Burn it,” you ordered. “And we’ll take a different room. They can clean up this one,” you approached him and handed him the doll in your hands. He took it, confused.
“What is this?” He asked.
“Our next child will be a daughter and you will give it to her when she is born,” you told him sternly.
He snorted at first but then he realised that you had been dead serious. The doll held lots of significance and meaning to you and he didn’t even have any idea how much you trusted him with it.
Feyd nodded his head after a long while and he looked down at the doll, awkwardly holding her in his pale hands.
“My Lady, what is your decision?” The servant knocked upon the door and joined you.
“I don’t want this room, clean it up,” you told him.
“Do you want a room next to your husband’s, na-baroness?” He asked.
“No, we will share one room,” you told him and he bowed down before leaving you quietly. “Unless you want your own,” you laid your eyes on Feyd.
“I want what you want.”
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You were walking through the endless desert. It was like the oceans back on Caladan but instead of the water there was sand. The heat did not bother you and you did not feel tired at all. However, all this walking seemed pointless. You didn’t know where you were or where to go.
And then you spotted someone on the horizon. A tiny figure in a stillsuit and your heart skipped a beat. Was it one of the Fremen? You didn’t want to find out but your legs kept walking anyway as if you had no control over your body.
The figure remained motionless. After a while you spotted it was a man. You wondered why he was not reacting at all, seeing you walking towards him. Perhaps he was waiting for you. But why?
When you were close enough to see his face, you gasped. It was your brother, Paul Atreides, with his eyes blue from the spice, wearing a Fremen armour and he seemed to stare in the distance. Now you realised that he couldn’t see you even though you were facing him.
“Paul?” You asked as your body stopped walking with your face inches away from his. “Brother?”
He startled a little and furrowed his brows. Did he hear you…?
“Paul,” you said again and his eyes found yours.
“Sister,” his voice was different now. It was rough and held no affection. It made your blood run cold.
“What are we doing here?” You asked sadly. “Let’s go back home.”
“What is home now?”
“Caladan,” you explained.
“We cannot.”
You woke up abruptly and sat up, breathing heavily as you felt the sweat running down your spine and forehead. You had never experienced a dream so vivid and realistic as this one.
You assumed it was because of Arrakis. The heat could cause such a vision or perhaps it was all that buried deep down grief after losing your family. Being here now, in that palace where they had lived and died, it was making you feel odd.
Feyd woke up as well and you heard him reaching out for the knife underneath his pillow.
“It’s alright,” you told him. “I’ve just had a bad dream.”
“It’s your first night on Arrakis. Maybe it’s the spice messing with your head,” you felt his hand rubbing your back. “Lay down, come to me,” he whispered and you did.
You laid your head on his chest and hugged him tight like a scared child. Your heart was pounding and you felt dizzy. But you didn’t want to tell your husband what the dream was. He didn’t ask anyway.
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On the next day you were gathered in a conference room. Everyone was there, the Baron and Count Rabban, too. You hoped that they would go back to Giedi Prime but it seemed like they wanted to stay and ensure that the spice production would go back to normal. You tried not to make a face at that as you watched the hologram globe of Arrakis in front of you on display.
“Shouldn’t the Fremen delegation greet the new Governor of Arrakis?” You asked.
“The Fremen do not have negotiations with us anymore. We are in the state of war, na-baroness,” one of the engineers answered you with a nod of his head.
“Let it be war, then,” you nodded back.
“What is causing the biggest problems?” Your husband asked as he gave his brother a contemptuous look. “Apart from the bad governing of the resources.”
“The Fremen have a new leader, a mysterious Muad’Dib,” The Baron explained and for some reason a shiver went down your spine at the mention of the name. You didn’t know why because it didn’t sound sinister or dangerous.
“And what about him?” Feyd asked. You could hear he was bored of the meeting and wanted real action as soon as possible.
“They are destroying our machinery and killing our soldiers, slowing down the production. He is unstoppable. Like a shadow,” Rabban explained and Feyd snorted at him.
“My big scary brother failed to deal with one Fremen savage,” he drawled. “Instead of slaughtering them all.”
“And what would our Baroness do?” The Baron interrupted Feyd and stared at you with a smirk. Suddenly, the whole room laid their eyes on you and you blinked a few times, surprised.
“Why would you ask a woman that?” Rabban inquired and Feyd hissed at him for that remark.
“Because I want to know her insight. Our Baroness happens to have interesting ideas,” Baron teased, his squinted eyes never leaving yours.
“I would oppose slaughtering the Fremen,” you stated.
“I’ve told you, she’s just a woman,” Rabban laughed.
“She is the Governess of Arrakis and your na-baroness and you will respect her,” Feyd barked.
“Enough!” You banged the fist on the table and the sound echoed through the chamber full of the Harkonnen servants and engineers widening their eyes at you. “Both of you!” You snapped. “Acting like children,” you scolded. “I am not the Governess of Arrakis, Feyd,” you laid your eyes on him and he looked a bit taken aback by your outburst. “That title does not work that way. You’re the Governor and I am your wife. However,” you looked at the Baron again. He was smirking all that time. “I do not think slaughtering them will bring us profit. They know the desert and the spice more than we do. We need them as obedient allies. But in order to have them as allies, we have to defeat them and their will to fight. We need to hit them with aggression that they have not yet seen nor experienced in their worst nightmares,” you raised your chin up.
“And that aggression is Feyd-Rautha,” Baron nodded at your husband.
“If we have negotiations with the Fremen in the future, I’d like to be there,” you announced and Rabban snorted. You knew that he did not mean these things personally, he was just frustrated that he was being replaced by his brother and seeing that an off-world woman was holding more influence than him had to be rough for his ego.
“What’s so funny, brother?” Feyd asked him and you rolled your eyes. They were at it again. “The only thing I find funny is how my wife has more brains than you.”
“And why is that funny?” You asked him, irritated.
“That is enough indeed,” Baron raised his hand. “We all have better things to do,” he announced and everyone bowed their heads as he left the room.
You watched your husband and his brother leaving right behind him, still having an argument like little children. Then you took a deep breath in and stood up to go back to Astra and Cara.
However, when you left the room, Feyd grabbed his brother’s neck and pushed him down on the floor. He basically threw him at your feet and you were surprised that he had managed it so easily since Rabban was a big and strong man.
“You will kiss her shoe and show your na-baroness respect,” Feyd ordered, “as you beg for her forgiveness.”
You looked down as Rabban looked up, scared. As much as it brought you some satisfaction to have a big, strong Harkonnen count who was called Beast Rabban at your feet, you felt sorry for him, too. 
“Feyd, there is no need,” you looked at your husband.
“No, there is, because I say so,” he insisted and kicked his brother’s head. “He will kiss your shoe or die.”
“I said, there is no need,” you repeated, more sternly this time. “Your brother is not my enemy like he is not yours either,” you pointed out. “Stand up, Count Rabban,” you ordered the man.
Carefully and hesitantly he moved up, trying to avoid looking into your eyes.
“You shall remember the kindness I have given you,” you told him and he nodded. “Now, leave.”
You watched him walk away as fast as possible and then you looked at your husband. He wasn’t pleased but he was trying to hide it. You could tell when he was angry very easily from his facial expressions by now.
“Do not torment him. He might be useful,” you told him.
“He will do anything to keep his pathetic head on. He’s got no honour,” Feyd snorted at that. “He would kiss anyone’s shoe if his life depended on it.”
“Then he is more like me than I have expected,” you only said and walked past him, leaving him behind, surprised.
“You are not like him,” Feyd followed you as he grabbed your wrist. “You have honour.”
“Do I?” You chuckled and turned around to face him. “I did everything to survive. It had nothing to do with honour. I became a Harkonnen instead of doing what my Atreides pride was telling me to do and that was to kill myself before letting any of you hurt me or change me.”
“It is different,” he was trying to deny your words. You were confusing him now.
“You also do not have honour, Feyd-Rautha. The way you used to fight drugged warriors in the arena. It has nothing to do with honour,” you reminded him as his jaw clenched. “And you know what? I don’t care,” you shrugged your arms. “My father, he was an honourable man. And look where it has gotten him. We are too cunning for honour.”
“We?” Feyd asked.
“The Harkonnens,” you explained and cupped his face to pull his head down and place a kiss upon his forehead. “Now, go, weren’t you supposed to terrorise the poor Fremen?”
He smirked at you and leaned in to place a hungry kiss upon your lips as his hand caressed your womb.
“Be careful, my darling, come back to me in one piece from the treacherous desert,” you bid him farewell and kissed him one last time before going back to your chambers.
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Weeks had passed and the mysterious Muad’Dib remained uncaught, however the spice production came back to full efficiency. It was difficult to celebrate such victory, though, because you weren’t even sure if it was because of Feyd-Rautha being a good Governor or was it because of his uncle who still was present on Arrakis. Both him and Rabban. You wondered how things had been back on Giedi Prime – especially now, when all the important Harkonnens were on Arrakis.
You had your girls and your medic and much less nosy guards following you everywhere. The Arrakeen Palace was giving you lots of freedom and safety but it was also a much more boring place than the fortress on Giedi Prime. It was full of ghosts, too – you couldn’t stop thinking your family had been slayed in that very place.
You kept dreaming of Paul each and every night. It was making you feel weary and frustrated at this point. You didn’t want Feyd to know so you often would leave the bed quietly in the middle of the night and walk outside to sit on the balcony. There was something fascinating about the desert; it was so calm yet dangerous. By day it was too hot to just stare and admire but at night it was peaceful and with no one around to bother you.
Tonight you were standing and admiring the moon in your nightgown, with your hand caressing your swollen womb. It was getting bigger and bigger each day and you could feel the child move now. The medic assured you he was placed properly and growing healthy. You wondered if your son would be born on Arrakis.
“What’s wrong?” Feyd’s voice made you turn around. He was standing by the entrance to the balcony and staring at you.
“I can’t sleep,” you lied. You could but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to dream of Paul.
“Again?” Feyd sighed and approached you. He stood behind you and leaned your body on his chest. It made you sigh out of relief and he placed his hands on your abdomen. “Perhaps the spice is doing you harm.”
“No, the medic would have noticed that,” you shook your head. “Perhaps it’s your son keeping me awake,” you made up a believable excuse and Feyd chuckled.
“And what are you doing here? Staring at the sand?”
“I don’t expect you to understand the beauty of the desert,” you teased. “But yes, the sand, the moon, everything.”
“When I will become the Baron, we will have a little tour and visit every planet under Harkonnen rule,” he whispered into your ear. “You will see many beautiful things, my darling pet.”
“And when will that be?” You snapped, frustrated. “In ten years? A hundred?” You snorted.
“What are you talking about?” Feyd took a step back and leaned on the railing to take a better look at your face but you remained staring in the distance.
“What is he still doing here? I thought Arrakis was ours. Yet, he is here and it feels as if we are being supervised. Meanwhile, Giedi Prime remains without protection,” you drawled through gritted teeth.
“If you were him, would you leave us two to each other?” Feyd asked.
“Are you by his side again?” You finally looked at him, angrily. “He gave you the planet to govern and you’re defending him again?”
“I am not defending him,” Feyd got angry, too, at your words. “But it is obvious why he stayed here. He knows we might be plotting. He needs to keep an eye on things.”
“I have already plotted,” you lowered your voice and went back to staring at the moon.
Feyd kept looking at you in silence for a while before he finally spoke up again.
“And what is that?”
“He shall be slayed by night alongside most of the guards and servants. We will say it was a nighttime assassination attack by Muad’Dib and his people. They targeted the Harkonnen nobility and you were too busy saving your pregnant wife to help your uncle,” you whispered.
“Everyone will know the truth, it's too obvious,” Feyd told you. “It's only giving us an alibi for those who want to believe in it.”
“Of course they will suspect what really happened but they will not care. You showed them your worth in the arena and you brought back the full efficiency of the spice production. The Harkonnen lords will give you a chance. I am sure they’ve already grown tired and weary of the Baron,” you kept convincing him.
“What if Muad’Dib suddenly decides to show up and deny?”
You sighed and looked at him again, furiously.
“Just admit that you don’t want him dead, because in some way I cannot understand… you love him,” you hissed at him.
“Love?” It was the first time you heard him use that word and it brought a chill down your spine. It sounded so off and scary when your husband said it out loud. “I don’t know what that pathetic feeling is,” he assured you.
“I can see that,” you raised an eyebrow at him and walked away to leave the balcony and go back to your bedroom.
You were hurt, angry and frustrated and it was starting to bring tears to your eyes but you didn’t want him to see that.
Your husband followed you to the bedroom. In the way his footsteps were even heavier than usual, you spotted his annoyance as well.
“What do you expect of me? You’re so impatient, woman,” he started once the doors closed behind him. “You want everything and you want it now. I said I’d do it, I swore I’d do it but you admitted yourself we have to wait longer. If he dies here at night, do you think the noble lords of Giedi Prime will accept that so easily?”
“Then slay the ones who refuse to accept you as the successor!” You turned around with the rage making your blood boil. “Slay everyone standing in our way, as you promised. Do you want our son to be born in a world that he is manipulating for his own gain? Do you want to be his dog following the orders for the next few years? I am tired of playing the games with him on his own chess board. I want to make my own game, my own rules, my own board!” You tried to keep your voice down in case someone would spy on you but it was difficult with all that anger pouring out of you.
In one swift move, Feyd grabbed your chin and squeezed your cheeks as he brought your face so close to his that your noses were rubbing each other. There was so much anger in his eyes that the old you would start trembling out of fear for her life but the new you didn’t even flinch.
“Keep your voice down, we will do it,” he spat out.
“No,” you mumbled. “You will do it. You’re the hand that slays,” you reminded him and he kissed you so hungrily that you became breathless.
“I still want to kill you sometimes,” he confessed between one kiss and another as he led you back to your bed and laid you down on the mattress. “Choke you, slit your pretty little throat, watch you squirm under me as you bleed to death.”
“Whatever turns you on, my darling,” you chuckled at him as he looked at you sternly.
“If I hurt you, I’d kill myself right after. I’m bound to you forever,” he confessed and you smiled gently.
You didn’t want to tease him that after all, he did know what love was. After all, he did feel it. But you knew that he’d hate being confronted with the truth.
“If something happened to you, I would want to die alongside you, too,” you told him. “You’re the only one I have and none of my ambitions matter without you by my side.”
It was true. You didn't want to rule alone. In fact, you didn't want to ever feel lonely in your life again.
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You were sitting next to Paul and watching the sunset in silence. In your dreams you would always meet him in the desert. Nothing else seemed to exist on Arrakis in the dreamworld – except for you and him.
“Why do you haunt me?” You asked and laid your eyes on his angry face. He was always so angry these days.
You hated Paul from your dreams. He was different. There was no kindness and gentleness about him anymore. If you were supposed to be haunted by his ghost, you’d rather be haunted by the brother you had remembered instead.
“I am not here for you,” Paul snorted and you furrowed your brows. Then he looked down at your swollen womb and you instinctively protected it with your hands.
“What do you mean?” You gasped.
“The spawn inside you shares my blood on both sides,” he answered mysteriously, which confused you greatly but you decided not to give it a second thought. After all, it was just a dream. “No, it is not,” Paul smirked viciously at you, as if he was able to read your thoughts.
“Get up,” you heard Feyd’s rough voice as his hand shook your arm. You woke up abruptly and sat up, trying to calm yourself after the dream.
“What’s going on?” You asked and looked around the dark room.
“Come with me,” your husband looked very pleased with himself as he pulled you out of the bed.
“What are you–”
“Shh,” he put his finger over his mouth as he led you outside.
You gasped at the sight of the bodies scattered all over the corridor of the palace. Servants and guards with their throats slit, laying in poodles of their own blood.
“Have you done that?” You asked quietly and Feyd nodded. “My girls…” you gasped.
“I haven’t touched your pets,” he assured you and stopped in front of the doors leading to the Baron’s chambers.
“Have you killed him…?” You were both excited and terrified of the outcome if the answer was yes. But, most importantly, you were in shock.
“Not yet,” Feyd answered as he pushed the doors open in front of you.
Not sure what his words meant, you entered the chamber carefully and spotted the Baron on his bed, letting out loud and raspy breaths. His life support machinery was no longer attached to him; you assumed Feyd had decided to give him a slow death.
You looked at your husband and spotted a sadistic sparkle in his eye as he was visibly enjoying the sounds and the view. He put his arm around you and walked you closer to the Baron’s bed.
That old and sick man looked pathetic at that moment and for a short while you even felt sorry for him. His eyes widened even further at the sight of you as he raised one of his hands towards you but you took a step back.
You didn’t know what to expect of him on his deathbed. Some part of you craved for him to admit his defeat and name you a worthy successor of the Harkonnen throne. Some other part of you expected him to curse you and your whole bloodline, which would be quite justified.
However, you certainly did not expect the sheer desperation and debasement.
“P-please…” He could barely speak. “Please, help me,” he tried to reach out for you.
You didn’t feel sorry for him anymore. You felt disgusted.
“You’re a weakling,” you smirked at him. “You called my father weak but I am sure that he did not beg like a dog on his deathbed. I am sure he died with dignity.”
“Please, help me…” He coughed out. “Help me and I will make your son an Emperor…”
“I do not need you to make my son an Emperor,” you laughed with contempt. “I am to become The Baroness Harkonnen; commanding the largest army and possessing the biggest wealth in the galaxy.”
“F-Feyd, I was like a father to you…” He searched for his nephew’s cruel eyes now, giving up on asking for your compassion and pity. “My boy…”
“Like a father, you say,” Feyd drawled. “I couldn’t wait to kill you for so many years now.”
“Please…”
“Oh, shut him up, how long will it take for him to die?” You sighed with an eye-roll as Feyd nodded his head at you and grabbed the short knife attached to his hip.
“Farewell, dear uncle,” he smiled smugly as he slit the Baron’s throat.
You watched mesmerised, without even blinking. It felt like a dream more than reality.
“The Arrakeen Palace will be considered cursed for all the Barons and Dukes from now on,” you only said.
Without a word, Feyd dropped the blade and fell on his knees in front of you, pulling you close by your hips and burying his face in the fabric of your nightgown right where your womb was. You knew what he wanted. A praise, an approval, a blessing.
“My Baroness,” he breathed out.
“Stand tall, my Baron,” you caressed his head and he looked up. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight and you cupped his chin to caress his full lips with your thumb. “You’ve made me proud and happy, my darling,” you assured him. 
He nodded at you and collected the discarded blade from the floor. It was important not to leave any trace. You both went back to your chambers and laid down in bed, pretending to be asleep – too excited to actually be able to drift off. This time you didn’t feel guilty even a little bit like after the death of the harpies. This time it didn’t even feel like murder or taking another human being’s life. This time it felt like nothing but relief.
You watched the sunrise through the window with your head on your husband’s chest and his hand rubbing your back, waiting for the remaining servants’ screams to signal the beginning of the new era.
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There were screams indeed. People were running, yelling, banging on your door. Both Feyd and you acted surprised and startled at the news but Astra and Cara had to be the only people in the palace who actually believed your story. The medic inspected the Baron’s body and started to wonder if it really had been Muad’Dib’s work since the cuts did not remind of the Fremen weapons. Feyd only hissed at him so the medic stopped any further insinuations.
Count Rabban’s behaviour surprised you the most as he was following his brother around and seeming to act like the most loyal and obedient subject. He had quickly realised it was the best chance of survival for him. He hadn’t questioned anything so far and simply followed every word leaving his younger brother’s mouth.
Everything was a mess and chaos on that day but it was mostly Feyd dealing with it, basking in his new title and glory, as you were sitting on your bed with terrified Astra and Cara, holding them both and assuring them of their safety.
“How can you not be worried, na-baroness? I mean, Baroness?” Astra widened her eyes. “If Muad’Dib was here last night… Oh, I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if he went inside your chambers instead…”
“My husband would defend me,” you kissed her forehead and then you kissed Cara’s.
“What if he comes back?” Cara was shaking out of fear and you felt bad for making them feel like this but you couldn’t tell them the truth. “Now, when they know that we have fewer guards around?”
“We will be prepared this time,” you squeezed their hands. “My girls, I am sorry for being insensitive but I shall get dressed in mourning attire now and finally join my husband to help him with the officialties.”
Every lady travelled with a mourning dress just in case. Yours was a combination of black silk and black armour pieces with chains, connected to the matching headpiece. It looked dignified and intimidating – exactly how you wanted it to look like. You had already dreamt of The Baron’s death while planning your trip. Therefore the mourning dress you had chosen was accurate to your new role of The Baroness.
It sounded so good. For the upcoming days you would get drunk on the way people would address you. And then, when you'd finally be back on Giedi Prime, there would be a lavish celebration and official event for you two becoming the new Baron and Baroness. You couldn't wait for that day.
You smiled to yourself in the mirror and fixed the headpiece for one last time as you adjusted the Atreides signet ring on your pinky finger. On your pointing finger there was a huge ring with the Harkonnen emblem. And hidden between the folds of your dress and attached to the armour piece on your hip was the blade your husband had given you on the day of his birthday. No one could see it but you could reach for it swiftly in the case of emergency.
You joined Feyd in the conference room and everyone straightened at the sight of you. They always would but this time it felt different. You were the one holding the power – and they respected you for you, not for the fact that you were under protection of The Baron.
“Baroness,” they bowed down and went back to work, avoiding your gaze.
“How are things going?” You approached Feyd as he looked you up and down with a smirk. You put your hand on his chest.
“I sent Rabban back on Giedi Prime with our uncle’s body,” he told you and held your hand to lay a kiss upon it. “He will take care of the affairs there until we finish our business on Arrakis. I want to take care of that Muad’Dib rat before returning home and finding someone worthy to replace me as the Governor here. Rabban will also send us more Harkonnen troops since we have lost many guards last night,” he informed you in an official manner.
“We must avenge our late Lord Baron,” you clenched your jaw as you nodded. His eyes sparkled with mockery as he pretended to look worried.
You were sure that most people in that room had known the truth but they kept their poker faces on and allowed you to play out this little scene.
“My Lord,” one of the engineers raised his voice, concerned. Feyd turned around and you both stared at the hologram of the Arrakis globe. Red dots started to appear on the orbit. “We have guests,” the engineer explained. “The ships are definitely not ours.”
“Who is it?” Feyd barked at him. “Find that out, we are not expecting anyone,” he looked at you, a little concerned.
You were not pleased with the idea of guests now, out of all times, either. 
“Who dares to interrupt our peace unannounced on the day after our late Lord Baron’s tragic death?” You asked out loud, playing your mourning role the best you could.
What a mockery it was that you had to be hiding all the grief after your actual family but had to display fake tears for the man you had hated with every fibre of your being.
“M-my Lord, my Lady…” the engineer turned around with his eyes widened, “it’s the Emperor himself… The whole imperial delegation.”
You and Feyd looked at each other.
“It took them days to get here. There is no way they are here because of last night’s incident,” Feyd pointed out. “Still, I do not understand. I have brought the spice production back to full efficiency. What could be the reason for his visit?”
You moved uncomfortably as your son kicked your rib. As if he too knew of the importance of this sudden imperial audience. It would be the first time you’d greet someone of such importance as The Harkonnen Baroness and it would be the first time you’d see the Emperor face to face. He had visited your father a few times on Caladan but children had not been allowed near their meetings.
“We have to greet him and find out,” you took a deep breath in, preparing yourself mentally for the first challenge in your new role.
You shot Feyd a glance and he nodded at you, reassuringly. With him by your side, it couldn’t go that bad, you tried to convince yourself. His presence was equipping you with courage and determination you had not known before.
Everything you were doing now, you were doing for the two of you and your future. Nothing else mattered.
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MASTERLIST
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januaryembrs · 21 days
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CROSS MY HEART | Spencer Reid x wife!Reader
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Request: read here
description: Spencer's wife struggles with the aftermath of JJ's confession
length: 1.5k
warnings: JJ's 14x15 confession spoilers (big ick, pull yourself together Jennifer) infidelity, thoughts of worthlessness, reader thinks Spencer is going to leave her for JJ.
authors note: I have loved JJ for all of fourteen seasons and fourteen episodes. this was a BIG ICK for me watching this won't lie
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She should have known something was wrong the minute they left that damn store. 
It took her all of two seconds to throw herself into her husband’s arms, her voice choked with tears that had threatened to spill when she’d seen the video of Casey shooting at him, and she swore Spencer had never grabbed her so tight. 
“I thought you,” She sniffled, running her fingers through the back of his scalp, the entire spanse of his huge hands ran along her spine, counting every vertebra to make sure she was still intact, despite the fact he had been the one held hostage, “I thought he’d shot you- it came so close,” 
He hushed her mewls, a hand reaching to the back of her head and tucked her into his neck further, the sob rattling through her ribcage almost, almost, taking his mind entirely off what JJ had said in that stupid game of truth or dare. 
What the fuck did she mean she had always loved him? She had a husband and children who doted on her; Will, who loved every shred of her being like it was his only purpose in the world. His godsons who had known him as uncle Spencer since he’d held them in the hospital, covered in goop and looking like the cutest little aliens he’d ever seen. 
And yet JJ, his friend, perhaps one of his longest friends, was willing to throw it away for him? He, who had a wife he adored more than there were birds in the wind, leaves on an Autumn floor, more than there were galaxies in the damn cosmos. His wife, who had been there for him since the moment they’d met, who he’d known was the one since that first day she’d ran into him in the lobby, their files mixing together because neither of them had been watching where they were going, like one of those romcoms she forced him to watch and he pretended to hate, or like the silly thing she called fate that she insisted was very much real. 
Spencer was a man of statistics and numbers and facts; things he could see. But he was sure there was nothing in any textbook that could have ever made sense of how the one person so perfectly created for him, the blob of cells that made up his wife that seemed to call to his own as if they were coming home to one another, would have just so happened to bump into him on a random Tuesday in August. 
Most people waited decades for that kind of love, or something close, and he’d managed to get it at the ripe age of thirty three. 
And yet in the space of ten seconds, of four little words in a wretched game, he felt like the carpet had been pulled from beneath him. Because why would JJ, who saw as clearly as anyone else how much he cherished his wife and the future they were planning together, try to take that away from him?
And as if his own odd spiral of thoughts wasn’t a kick to the gut enough, his sweet wife had quickly released him from her grasp and thrown herself at JJ, who seemed to just now be understanding the gravity of her words as she looked around with wide eyes, tear stains wetting her cheeks, the guilt gnawing in her gut already. 
“JJ! Are you okay? Oh, you poor thing, you must have been so scared,” She sobbed, wrapping her friend in a loving hug that was shakily reciprocated, like JJ was waiting for the second she would get a fat shiner to the nose for confessing such a thing. 
But that never happened. Instead, she pulled away from the frozen blonde woman, who looked like she could burst into tears then and there and apologise for everything until her face turned blue, and ran a kind hand over the JJ's hair, stroking it behind her ear tenderly as she tried to quell her cries because she wasn't the one who had been held at gunpoint. 
She didn’t know. It hit them both at the same time. She didn’t know what JJ had said, hadn’t even got an inkling into what had happened, and god did it make the sinking feeling in Spencer’s chest swallow itself up into something the size of the Mariana Trench. 
And what was left, what had for a second been a horrid mix of confusion, shock, fear and then another big dollop of confusion for good measure, quickly was dragged away by the current and replaced with anger. 
Anger that JJ could do something like this to his wife; he frankly didn’t care how her words had affected him, that if he had been single he would have been left feeling unworthy of her affection the first time it had been offered around, like there was something so disgustingly wrong with him this was what it took for her to say anything. He didn’t care about any of that. He cared that this would absolutely destroy his wife. 
And it was for that reason Spencer hurried the paramedics into fixing the small graze on his palm as he watched with boiling blood his wife tend to JJ like she would any other time her close friend was hurt in the field. He seethed whenever Jennifer would simper and avoid her friend's eyes, how his beautiful, caring, devoted wife would stroke the woman’s back and will her to talk, to tell her what to do to make it better.
Because it was her who should be fussing over his sweet wife, certainly not the other way around. 
But he couldn’t say that, not there at least, and so he didn’t, not until he had got the greenlight from the medics to leave and he had all but cut off the circulation in her fingers with how tight he’d held her hand as he led her to the car. 
Spencer said nothing, not wanting to fight when she forced him to sit shotgun as she climbed behind the wheel, not wanting to cause a commotion when there was a much bigger bombshell he was sitting on that he knew would change her feelings entirely. 
-
“What?” Her voice was soft still, a murmur in the quiet night air of their bedroom. She sat, fresh faced, minty breathed, kevlar vest long gone and replaced with one of his old Dr Who shirts and comfy bottoms.
She said the word again, like she hadn’t heard him, but judging by the way her expression had fallen into something dejected, he knew that wasn’t the case. 
Sighing, drawing gentle motions up and down her legs with his warm hands, shuffled closer where he kneeled down in front of her submittingly. “JJ said that she has always loved me; that was her ‘truth’ in the game,”
“Well, she-she was lying right?” His wife said quickly, her voice shaking, trying to make sense of it herself. She didn’t get an answer right away, just her husband’s eyes casting down as he tried to think of the best thing to say, “Right, Spencer?” 
“I don’t know,” He said earnestly, and he saw immediately the way tears sprung to her eyes, her bottom lip trembling, her face warming in wet-anger, “But it doesn’t change anything, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter, to me- baby, please don’t cry,”
“Ofcourse it changes things, Spencer, it’s JJ. She’s literally the hottest woman to walk the earth, Pen said you were like in love with her when you started the BAU, and now you have your chance,” She whimpered, fat tears rolling over her freshly moisturised cheeks, and he swore he felt his chest concave at her words. 
“My chance? I don’t want a chance, I want you,” Spencer said in earnest, his hands rubbing further and further up her legs until his hands went under her night shirt, grabbing onto the soft of her hips with pleading tenderness, “I want you forever, no matter what JJ or any other woman feels about me,” 
She sniffled pitifully, her eyes still unsure and he took it as a sign she needed more, so he leaned in fully to hug her to him. 
“But it’s JJ,” She said again, like that was going to change anything, and he shook his head, stroking over the back of her hair softly.
“I don't care,” He said, and she sniffed gently into the crook of his neck, his skin wetting with the contact. She finally wrapped her arms around him, and he knew he was close to getting it through to her, “I had the smallest crush on JJ, what, fifteen years ago? Honey, I want you for the rest of my life, and nothing and no one is going to change my mind about that, not even you.” 
“Really?” His sweet wife whispered tearfully, and he chuckled sadly, hating how hard she had cried that it had ripped the life from her voice. 
“Cross my heart,” He kissed her hairline softly, tipping her head upwards with one long, warm finger under her chin, pressing a gentle kiss to her wetted lips, “Hope I never die,”
She smiled sorrowfully, kissing her husband as if it was the last time she could ever do so, hoping it made up for how puffy and ugly her tears had made her face. But he didn’t care, he never had, he thought she was perfect just the way she was.
And he’d remind her of that any time she thought otherwise. 
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bomber-grl · 6 months
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Mike Schmidt relationship headcannons !
Pairing(s): Mike Schmidt x Gn!Reader
Note! Has some plot | This is my relationship headcannons for movie Mike, stating this because I just might make video game Michael Afton headcannons aswell in the near future
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Very closed off and not looking for a relationship
He had hired you to take care of Abby when he was away and that’s how you two began getting closer.
Not the best conversation starter, however when you gave him the opportunity to speak about the dream theory he starts going on about it.
Then he apologizes and begins feeling a bit unsure and awkward.
It never really advanced from there and he’d almost constantly apologize and reassure that he’d pay you soon, but you never really cared for it.
Really peaked his interest when he realized that Abby had really grown to like you and began inviting you to do things with the both of them.
You, of course accepted and eventually Mike had started developing feelings for you.
Just as you did for him.
He didnt act on them at first.
Primarily Because he doesn’t see himself in a relationship, especially not with someone like you with him.
You were amazing, and he was a sad grown man who had to care for his little sister, and not even in a way he saw proper.
So of course he shuts it down, telling himself it’d be better off that way.
However, some way, somehow you got involved with Freddy’s pizzeria and you not only managed to save him but also Abby.
Then from there it just went uphill.
He got a better job, better pay, and is able to connect with Abby easier.
Not only that but the custody battle has been leaning in his favor.
He had no one to thank but you.
You’d take Abby to school, occasionally cook for them, and you were always reliable.
One fateful evening you and Mike were just hanging out in the living room.
Talking and just watching whatever was on TV.
Then he brought up your relationship, and stated that he’d really like to start one with you, a romantic one, that is.
You of course, said yes, and he was relieved and happy at your reaction.
But then Abby came to mind, what would she think?
You asked him this almost immediately.
But he reassured and said that the final push was actually when Abby hinted/teased her older brother about your potential relationship, then ran off.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and an awkward atmosphere hung in the air but then Mike went to hold you hand and it made it semi better.
The next morning you almost immediately told Abby and she was so happy.
Which really relieved the both of you.
-
Things had changed, albeit subtly.
And although Mike wasn’t the most physically affectionate, probably due to him being pretty much touched starved and traumatized.
He tried his best to convey his affection towards you with teasing and joking around.
You’d often just enjoy the others company and bond mostly with Abby around.
If you were to ever do something even a little bit flirty around her she’d immediately be grossed out.
Which was funny, and was mentally noted to ever do again in her presence, even if it was just a kid friendly comment.
Your guy’s first kiss was pretty intimate
I mean Mike had never seemed much interested in kissing or doing anything further down the road.
However, after a particularly draining day, and horrible weather outside, Mike had offered you to stay for the night.
Abby was so excited and the three of you played with her just a little bit over her curfew then sent her off to bed.
When you were finally able to be alone, Mike, very awkwardly and a bit bashful, offered for you to sleep in his bed.
You, like the amazing person you were, rejected and said that it was fine and that he should just sleep there.
Not completely understanding that Mike didn’t mean separate, but together.
Once he bashfully explains that all you can do is mutter out an “oh” and go along with it.
Pretty awkward as you both just lay down as stiff as rods in silence.
Then you guys begin talking.
And it’s just you two talking about whatever at like 2 a.m, trying your best to keep it down.
If you decide to be bold and make a move by asking if you could cuddle with him, then he’d hesitantly agree.
Again, not because he hates you, but because he’s an awkward guy.
So once you’re settled in each others arms you start talking about each others traumas and mostly hidden things.
It’s the sleep deprivation getting to you guys.
Well once you’re both finished venting and just being vulnerable you decide to make a move and lean forward, giving him plenty of time to move if it’s not wanted.
But he didn’t, and the clash of your lips followed soon after and how drawed out it was won’t be mentioned by either of you either.
Things not only start changing and he’s side hugging you more (publicly)
Although not really into pda
And be more affectionate (as he can)
I’m sure at one point you get so comfortable with one another that although awkward moments occur, most of them spent together is just you saying cringe stuff and making him regret ever making it out alive of Freddy’s.
From then on, not only do you tease and get a worthwhile reaction but he’s always hugging and giving you cheek kisses in private.
He’s also grown fond of cuddling, just because of how close he gets to be to you.
If you were to ever tell him he’s hot.
He’d get really taken back but then laughs it off and says whatever.
(Saying this because I know those fans of him exist 😭)
Honestly it’s kind of hard for you to tell when he’s being sarcastic or not😔
He’s always making snarky and joking remarks and hard to tell when he’s just being his sassy self.
Honestly home dude is just trying his best and his relationship with you really lightened up his life even more.
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Note! Should I make a pt 2 with Mike as your husband?
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evermoredeluxe · 11 days
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the amount of times taylor was promised a future with marriage and kids, from a older man who is societally at that stage in life (but she wasn’t good enough), to someone who wanted it so bad (in the wrong way) that he almost trapped her, to someone she grew up with for years and thought would love to be with her but that wasn’t true, to someone who came back in her life for a few weeks and promised her everything at her lowest and then ghosted her… built and broken down from the same high, promised what she wants the most and had it taken away repeatedly, and that leading into the prophecy and how she is fated to be left alone forever is just heartbreaking. i think one of the things i feel most in TTPD is resentment of these men making false promises, her hating herself because she always believes them and goes crazy when they leave.
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shegatsby · 1 month
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Love Thy Enemy
Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.
A/N; HI!!! Its been a long time since I wrote a series but i cannot resist Feyd. English isn''t my first language so go easy on me. There will be smut in the future chapters. TAG LIST IS OPEN!!!!!! (Reader has a lover and Feyd's going to find out lol 😉😉😉)
Warnings; None. Female Bene Gesserit Reader x Feyd-Rautha, enemies to lovers! reader is reffered to as she/her.
Words; 1.520K
Chapter 2
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Chapter One – ‘’Meeting in flesh and blood’’
‘’Right behind you!’’ Irulan screamed as she was riding her horse to match Y/N’s. Y/N was a skilled rider, the wind in her long hair, she laughed at Irulan’s attempt of winning the race and focused on the finish line. Planet Kaitian which was the second Capital of the Corrino Empire had so many opportunities for Padishah Emperor Shaddam’s daughter Irulan and his beloved Y/N. The planet had forests, lakes and rivers so Y/N didn’t miss much of her home planet Caladan, she sometimes tossed and turned in her bed thinking of her family members but she was taken to Kaitain years ago. Irulan and Y/N were the same age and when Shaddam couldn’t have more children he asked Duke Leto Atreides to bring his first born daughter to be sisters with Irulan. Leto tried to find so many ways to refuse Padishah Emperor yet he was the ultimate power in the entire galaxy and Leto had no choice but to give his daughter Y/N. She was one years old when the arrangements were made. She could see her family at political events or celebrations, she had been in Caladan few times yet she felt stranger to the planet and she felt stranger to Kaitain as well. She has always wondered if, by any chance one day she would feel the sensation of ‘’being at home’’ nowhere and no one was her home. Maybe this was her fate.
When she finished the race her horse calmed down, Irulan followed behind. ‘’I swear you’re cheating and I am going to find out.’’ She was joking of course, Irulan and Y/N had a close relationship yet Y/N never forgot that she was a princess and there for needed to be treated more cautiously than the other lords and ladies of the galaxy. Together they hopped off of their horses, ‘’Walk with me.’’ Irulan’s  voice was soft yet direct. Her short blonde hair got messy, hem of her white long dress covered in mud, she was carefree when she was with Y/N.
Y/N had the color of her house Atreides. Green. Her green dress felt so light, they were walking on the grass for few minutes in silence., Y/N knew that Irulan wanted to say something.
Palace’s gardens were evergreen, gardeners achieved perfection. Gardens smelled of flowers at any time of the year. Irulan stopped in her tracks, they turned to soak in the scenery before their eyes, the entire planet was under their feet. Servants’ chatters could be heard, no matter what they were never alone. ‘’Soon my father will throw a ball for me.’’ She looked distant, Padishah Emperor Shaddam never had parties without a solid reason, it must be political. Before Y/N could ask Irulan explained simply, ‘’I will meet the man I have to marry.’’ Y/N knew one day that she had to marry someone in order to protect the power they had over the galaxy but she never thought the date would come this quick. Y/N had already a lover, only Irulan knew because he was from a lower house. She had a childish hope that one day she would marry him.
Irulan laughed in sarcasm, ‘’How I wish to be you, sister!’’ it was obvious that Irulan dreaded the situation.
There were no arrangements for Y/N and she was free for a long time or so she thought.
‘’I trust in Emperor’s decision. He won’t wed you to someone unworthy.’’ She tried to encourage her dear friend but Irulan stood there like a stone. ‘’Let’s head back.’’ Y/N said. A hollow silence followed them to the dining hall. Emperor couldn’t attend because he was dealing with preparations of the ball. The white marble fire place was lit and orange colors danced in the room, the dining hall was adorned with lavish furniture and a long wooden table. The wood came from Giedi Prime, it was called Pilingitam.
 Irulan seemed troubled, ‘’What’s on your mind sister?’’ Y/N asked. She was concerned for her, if she knew that she had to be concerned for herself…
She watched Irulan’s palm slithering on the Pilingitam table,’’ Majority of the houses will be at the ball,’’ she looked up to meet Y/N’s curious eyes, ‘’The Harkonnens will be too.’’ Y/N’s blood ran cold, she remembered the times where Emperor used to take them to Giedi Prime for political reasons. They had to sit and watch the games in the black and white arena. Gladiators killing each other…
She remembered a boy with pure blue eyes and full lips, ‘’I will fight there too when I’m old enogh.’’ He was sitting next to Y/N in his black outfit. He closed the tiny gap between him and Y/N, and he spoke quietly, ‘’Will you come and watch me?’’ he was speaking as if killing was a normal act. His knee touching Y/N’s, she remembered distinctly that the boy interlaced his little finger with hers. They were ten and yet Y/N could see Baron Vladimir’s influence on his poor nephew.
Y/N didn’t need to go back in her memories to detest the Harkonnens. Their families were in and out of war for centuries. Thankfully for a long time peace was kept. ‘’I will manage.’’ She insured Irulan with a genuine smile yet it wasn’t enough. Y/N brushed it off, after dinner she had mental training anyways.
Until the day of the ball she corresponded with her lover, Pyramus
He was a tall man with dark curls and jet black eyes. His beard always tickled her face.
She spent her days training and accompanying Irulan. Irulan grew restless as the they approached.
One by one the ships started to arrive, one could look up to the busy blue sky and see. Y/N’s family arrived early to see her and spend time with her. Lady Jessica, her mother, immediately questioned her about Y/N’s Bene Gesserit training, Duke Leto was happy to see her daughter once again. Paul, her one year younger brother gave her a tight hug.
They were united once more, she escorted them to their quarters in the palace and retrieved to get ready for the event. She wore a green dress with emeralds on her chest and waist, her maid braided her hair in Atreides style. She also wore an emerald tiara. Paul Atreides knocked on her door to escort her to the ball room, he looked sharp in his dark green suit. ‘’You seem nervous.’’ He questioned, -Y/N knew that her mother was teaching Bene Gesserit ways to her brother,- yes she was nervous because she was going to be reunited with her lover. ‘’Too many people.’’ She responded. Servants were running with food and wine on the corridors, music could be heard from a distance. Members of houses were having conversations about spice, politics, etc.
The doors of the room were open, inside was lit by the yellow warm lights coming from glowglobes, guests laughing and drinking. Tallest member was Baron Vladimir due to hanging in the air, eating like a mad man but she ignored him.
Her eyes searching for her lover, so blind to an outsider who got her under his radar.
Paul and Y/N walked to the table of their house, ‘’You look lovely my girl.’’ Duke Leto kissed her daughter’s forehead, it didn’t go unnoticed by a certain someone. He was a snake, silently slithering close to his prey.
Padishah Emperor Shaddam and his daughter Princess Irulan were announced and slowly entered the room, everyone bowed. They took their seats and Emperor greeted everyone, thanked them for coming to his feast and he also announced that he would choose the life partner of his daughter among his unmarried male guests. Duke Leto found himself watching his daughter with sad eyes, he wondered if he could see her wedding one day. Would she be happy and fortunate like him? Only time would tell but he prayed quietly.
It was time to dance, couples held each others’ hands and marched to the dance floor, Paul excused himself and went to ask the princess to dance with him. Leto happily asked Jessica to dance with him, Y/N wished that they were officially married but to keep his position as a powerful bachelor, other houses worked for him hoping that one day Duke Leto would marry one of their daughters. It was a well played game of chess on Atreides’s part. Y/N watched Irulan and Paul talking silently and dancing.
Soon Pyramus came with a huge smile. He kissed her hand and winked at her, ‘’My beautiful lady, would you be so kind and accompany me on the dance floor?’’ she tried so hard not to grin, ‘’Of course my lord.’’ He was in his house’s color, yellow. Hand in hand they mingled among the other couples, ‘’I’ve missed you.’’ He whispered. ‘’Not here.’’ She used the voice on him and his mouth closed in a second. Only their eyes talked.
They heard a rough cough and turned to face the intruder, Y/N had no idea that she would meet him in flesh and blood, ‘’Feyd…’’
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donutz · 2 months
Text
Yandere Smiling Critters x male child reader[pt. 2]
Requests from Tumblr and Wattpad—!, but not really
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(Minus the fact I didn't include you being turned)
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—☆You are a human in this
Sadly, you couldn’t stay here forever.
You are home now. Adopted. You did spend your time at Playcare for a couple of years though, everybody knew you, everybody in Playcare that is. The critters and kids knew you, the staff knew you, Miss Delight knew you.
So you had a mark on the place when it was time for you to leave. To get your own house. You were happy to get a home, but sad you had to leave your friends behind.
Maybe you could revisit this place again. Come back. But you couldn’t.
Something happened.
8/8/1995
You don’t know what happened that day, but you guess it was something pretty bad. It caused the whole company to shut down. You no longer saw any commercials of the toys.
Rumors were spread around, maybe somebody died, maybe a toy hurt somebody, maybe.. Maybe an experiment happened.
Anyways. There was a letter. A letter in the mail, something that related to your old home. Find the flower?
.
.
.
Sure. Why not, you were seventeen, you can handle yourself.
Which is something you shouldn’t have ever thought, after what you’ve been through.
It’s been scary. You haven’t died yet, but death has wanted to shake your hand a few times.
You almost bumped your head on a metal pipe while passing through a dark hallway, nearly broke your leg because you wanted to jump off a platform, wanting things to go by faster.
You’ve been chased through vents, and ended up at a dead end. You didn’t know what to do. You almost got shredded. But, were spared.
“.. Huggy?” He stared at you, maybe he recognizes you, even after all these years.
He didn’t kill you. He let you down on the second level of the metal stairways with his arm, and went back to where he originally was.
Then you were solving puzzles, with a particular doll following after you.
But the doll got snatched up, by a spider. Mommy Long Legs. She did remember you, you were the one who wasn’t so good at the games..(for the sake of your life in this story)
But she thought you left her to die, so she still forced you to play the three games. The first game has Bunzo! He was hesitant to kill you, you were the kindest kid to him when you lived here.
And for the first time, you actually beat the game! He was so proud of you! He wasn’t proud of his unfortunate fate in the future, but at least he didn’t need to kill you.
Then the small Huggies. They also remembered you, so they were sparing you. You also beat that game! They were happy, letting out tiny purrs at your success.
Then Pj— Wait. Since when were you so good at these games? The last I checked, you failed every single one of them! Fine. I’ll just sabotage the game for you, to make sure you never leave.
You could see Pj coming out of his pug-a-pillar hole, and you were sweating a little. Hopefully he remembered you too.
He did, once he saw you he stopped in his crawling tracks, taking a pause. He missed your younger adorable face when he gave you a small bump on your back, signifying that the ‘game’ was over.
But he unpaused at the start of the music playing.
You escaped. Out of there. That’s fine. I could just chase you myself
Three chases. You got chased THREE times. How desperate was she to kill you?!
You were putting the blue hand on the scanner, when you heard Mommy’s quick steps towards you.
You looked behind you— Eyes widening from her abrupt appearance. For the fourth time.
The door opened! And.. Mommy got killed, by you, by your hands.
A hand crept out from the thin crevice of a metal door. It took Mommy’s left over body, to wherever. You didn’t know what it was. Where it took her. But thanked god(or not, depends on your thoughts) at the fact that you weren’t Mommy at this moment.
Now you are somewhere. The train crashed, and you could feel the back of your shirt being picked up. You were sliding down a pipe, into somewhere.
You don’t know where it was, but you needed to get out, fast.
Doing some parkour, you looked around, and saw a long tail(plus paws) crawling up inside a vent.
“... Catnap?”
You went through some doors, and ended up seeing where the crashed train was. Going somewhere, you could see the recognizable entrance you went to at age 5. The way to Playcare.
You could hear the sounds of steps. Hurrying up you went inside the much smaller train compared to the one you were originally in.
“My name is Elliot Ludwig.”
Hm. Those words you could remember.
“When you look around at the world today,” You repeated after him.
“what one thing do you think it needs more of?”
“Playcare!”
Even at seventeen years, you were still mesmerized by what was shown.
You looked down, and could see 3— no. Five creatures walking or crawling around, resembling the Smiling Critters.
“Oh.”
Some of the critters could hear Elliot’s voice continue about Playcare, eyeing the moving train.
They saw your shadowed figure. Not knowing who you were. But a light is shown on your face.
Bubba, Dogday, Kickin, Hoppy, and Bobby saw your face. You’re back?
No. They must be seeing things. You were gone. Away from them.
But Dogday could recognize those eyes. Your skin, your curiosity, your hair(if your hair changed colors, or texture after growing up, then.. Yea, he still remembered you).
“Angel?” (Even if you didn’t really save him, he’s going to call you Angel. Because I needed a nickname for you. Y’know, because I can’t list every single name of the people who’re reading this?)
The other critters heard his whisper. … Maybe it was you.
The train stopped. But you were kind of scared, were they like Huggy or Mommy? Were they going to chase you down?
“Ah shit.”
‘Language.’ Dogday thought, dogs have good hearing y’know!
You were trying to find a way for two possible outcomes of being down here.
A) Try to make the train go back if the critters try to kill you
Or
B) Somehow reminisce in meeting your old friends
B sounded a lot more better than A.
And.. B did happen!
The 5 critters went over to the train, while you were standing there. Waiting for whatever will happen to you.
Dogday crawled over to you, it was you! Your scent!
He gave you the biggest hug while his tail wagged(really fast, it’s kind of crazy).
He was still fluffy even after these 10 years.
“Angel I missed you so much—!”
You were trying to hug him back, but a little too scared because of the critters staring into your soul.
Dogday noticed their silence and spoke up—
“Guys! This is Angel!! You don’t recognize him??”
Silence.
“THE ONE WHO WAS HIDING BEHIND PICKY..??”
“OHH”
“YOU’RE BACK?!?”
“I was thinking that it was him but I wasn’t sure…”
“ANGEL!?!?!?”
You were escorted out of the train, and were greeted by a bunch of animals pawing at you.
You couldn’t get a word in!
Picky, Crafty and Catnap came over, hearing all of the excited animal noises.
Now you were crowded by a bunch of animals. You were so tiny compared to them, so they had to be gentle.
So much noises were going on that even the smaller critters came over to see the commotion.
You were back home!
Now you can’t leave.
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sokkadora · 5 months
Text
see you again — mizu x reader
inspired by: see you again; tyler, the creator
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summary: can i get a kiss? and can you make it last forever?
a/n: this came to me in a dream and made me wake up in a cold sweat /j
wc: 2.6k
tags/warning(s): allusions to period typical homophobia, angst, afab reader, fluff, arranged marriage, near death
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸
︿︿︿︿︿︿ ✎ᝰ . . . .
You and Mizu had always been close. You would frequently visit your grandfather out in the thick woods behind Kohama, of whom Mizu was an apprentice of. Your grandfather was grateful of you coming around to give Mizu another outlet, a real friend her age to speak to instead of trailing behind him all day and night.
Mizu was quickly drawn to you the day you first showed up as a small child, but was worried about how you would react to her most potent feature. The first few visits you had that she was there for, she ended up curiously watching you from afar as you would talk to Eiji about your newest skill your mother had taught to you, or watching you play outside in the forest.
The first time you had seen Mizu’s eyes, you were enthralled by them. Of course, you had heard of the onryō haunting Kohama, but you expected them to be taller, have sharp and frightening features. But Mizu was shy and gentle with you, silently greeting you with a small flower every time you came to visit as you started to grow closer. You bonded over your shared want to master a weapon that seemed so far out of reach, you with your bow and Mizu’s sword.
You were her closest friend, the first person beside her mother to know she was a woman. You were never scared or deterred from her or her slowly hardening demeanor, or her sharp blue eyes. She could pinpoint the exact moment she had begun to fall for you; after quietly sharing the fate of her mother on the one day that the bad men had come to take her out of this world.
You were nothing but kind with her, an arm resting on her shoulders as your hand gently carded through her hair that you had helped her tie up so many times. When she turned her head to look at you through nervous eyes and she saw nothing but fondness and warmth, she knew you had her wrapped around your finger.
Your visits started to become more infrequent as your father began preparing you for your duties as a wife in the near future, and Mizu found herself distracting herself from your absence by throwing herself into her sword and fighting techniques. But in the moments before bed, she would lay on her back and stare longingly at the ceiling, wondering what would happen if you and her were to just run off together and start your own life together. But what she yearned for to be possible hurt her, because she knew it could never be. The relationship she so desperately craved to have with you was forbidden; it could get the two of you killed.
So her mind became consumed with her quest for revenge. Her sword was forged from the meteorite she and the swordfather found, and she was marching her way to say goodbye to you. The rain that poured on the day of her departure set the tone for how well the attempt at a goodbye would go. With how stubborn you were when it came to Mizu’s safety, she knew it wasn’t going to be easy.
She stealthily climbed up the tree beside your home, crawling in through a window on the second story floor before quietly in front of your door. Now, she’d never been to your home, but you’d described it to her enough for her to be able to get her bearings. She patted off the front of haori nervously before raising her hand and knocking on your door softly.
She could hear you shuffling around before arriving at the door, opening it and smiling widely at the sight of your friend. She allowed herself to curl her lips into a small smile as you pulled her into your room, the smell of your lavender incense and smoke from the candle crawled it’s way into her nostrils while you shut the door behind the two of you.
While Mizu was glancing around your room for the first time, you smiled before clearing your throat to catch her attention. She turned her head to look over her shoulder at you, her smile dropping at the reminder of what she was here to do. She decided to rip the bandaid off, not bothering with any pleasantries.
“I’ve come to say goodbye.”
Your mood and smile dropped, brows furrowing at Mizu’s sudden words.
You knew of Mizu’s yearning and hunger for revenge, but you figured you’d have more time with her in Kohama before she would depart. You regretted not sneaking out to your grandfather’s when you had the opportunities presented themselves, you felt incredibly guilty for leaving Mizu hanging for so long. She seemed colder now, you wondered what she had been through in the months since you last visited.
You should’ve made time. 
Why didn’t you make time?
Now the one you loved more than anything any rich lord could offer was leaving, and you were stuck here to become a docile wife. The thought of it put a horrible taste in your mouth.
You swallowed thickly, “I’m coming with.”
Mizu blinked in surprise, her eyes widening as you began to gather up your bow and quiver that laid hidden beneath the floorboards in front of your sleeping pad. She swiftly moved over to you, kneeling and placing a hand on your bicep to stop you. She could see the tears glistening in your eyes through your hair that draped over your face, brushing it out of your face and tucking it behind your ear softly.
You paused your frantic movements to grab your weapon, glancing towards Mizu, who continued to be nothing but gentle with you as you began to let the tears trail down your cheeks. You wept, feeling homesick for the person who hadn’t even left yet.
“No, you’re not.” Mizu said quietly, but in such a firm tone you knew there was no room to argue about it. “I need you here. I need to know that you’re safe home, in Kohama. Where I’m going… you could get killed. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you on my watch.”
“But you could get killed, Mizu.” You whispered, turning into her, almost. Your knees touched, Mizu’s strong hands resting on your biceps while you raised your head just enough to stare at the scarf wrapped around her neck. Slowly reaching up, you fidgeted with the standing end of the knot before letting your hand fall to rest against her binded chest. “You could get killed and I’d… I’d never know. I’d be here waiting for you, and you’d never come back. I can’t…” Your voice shook, and Mizu’s hands began to as well. “I can’t live in a world that doesn’t have you in it.”
Mizu’s eyes widened at the admission, her heart swelling sadly.
“Nothing – and I mean, nothing,” she swallowed her anxieties. Should she be admitting this to you now? What if you’re right? What if she doesn’t come back? She paused briefly before deciding to just spit it out. If she was to die while on her journey, she was not going to die without knowing what it felt to be yours.
Even it was for a few fleeting moments.
“will take me from you before I’ve gotten the chance to give you the life you deserve.” She whispered, hands sliding down your arms to take your hands into hers. She rubbed her thumbs over the tops of your knuckles. “I love you,” She admitted, whispering your name as she reached a hand up to cradle the back of your head and pressing a firm, loving kiss you your forehead. “I’ll come home to you. I promise.”
‘She loves me?’ You thought, your brain swirling with excited thoughts as she pressed a kiss your your forehead. Your grip on her top tightened, and you finally mustered the courage to look into her eyes. Oh, how you loved them.
Seeing how this may be the last time you may every get the pleasure of seeing them, you reached your hands up and cupped her cheeks with a heavy sigh, hands shaking. Her eyes stormed with several emotions. Embarrassment? No… Love? Yes, and you were thrilled that it was openly aimed at you. 
With the courage boost of her gaze on you, you shakily traced a thumb over her bottom lip, swallowing down the thick emotions that you felt bottling up. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t shy away from you. She never has.
You slowly leaned up, brushing your lips against her own before finally pressing them together, a mournful whimper leaving Mizu’s throat the second they made contact. Was this the only time she would ever be able to kiss you? She wondered, gripping your wrists softly as she eagerly kissed you back, her stomach flipping.
After what was too soon for either of you, Mizu pulled away, much to her own dismay. It was time.
You swallowed back a cry before pressing your foreheads together, “I love you too.”
———
You didn’t think she’d be gone for so long.
The first day was miserable.
The first month? Miserable.
The first six months? You guessed it!
Miserable.
The first year? Not any better.
You started to visit your grandfather more often to make sure he was cared for and still alive, you often cooked him dinners and stayed the nights to eat with him. He was the only thing besides your concealed weapon that really connected you to Mizu now that she was gone, and your frequent visits to him had interfered with your attempts at an arranged marriage, which resulted in your father doubling down and finally marrying you off to a lord after nearly two years of Mizu’s absence.
He hardly paid any attention to you, which was a blessing for you. It gave you more time to practice your archery and hunting, letting you keep a piece of Mizu with you. It also promised an easier escape for whenever Mizu came back.
Which she did.
Half dead though, which wasn’t ideal.
A man who you now knew as Ringo came crashing into the woods where you practiced archery at the request of your grandfather, and the moment you heard Mizu’s name slip out of his mouth you were sprinting towards your grandfather’s home. He had heard you sprinting through the woods, panting harshly before you slide one of the doors open. He placed the large metal tongs in front of your stomach before you could run to Mizu, guiding you over to the table to grab something to eat.
“You’ll do the boy no good if you cannot take care of yourself while you care for him, child.” He bonked your head with the tool, hobbling away after you walked over to Mizu with the meal, kneeling down beside her and setting it down beside you. 
Your hand didn’t dare make contact with the injury on her forehead, but gently settled against her cheek. Your throat tightened from the overwhelming myriad of emotions washing over you the moment you laid eyes on her pale skin, you reminded yourself that she came home to you. Alive. But the look and thought her physical state worried you beyond anything you could reassure yourself with.
You had politely asked and instructed Ringo to deliver a message to your “husband” (to you, he was just some deadbeat you were legally tied to. He was already close to his deathbed before the few days that had gone on before Mizu’s abrupt arrival) that you were staying with your grandfather for a few days, falsifying an injury that he supposedly sustained that you needed to help him with. Which wasn’t exactly a lie, somebody you cared about was injured, it just wasn’t your grandfather.
Of whom made sure to put you to work while you were there, gathering firewood for him and assisting him to make tea and Ringo to make dinners for the three of you until one of the injured had woken up. It wasn’t the person you wanted to wake up most though.
Taigen, had been the first to rouse from his brief coma. You were not his biggest fan, but you knew him from the years you’d spent growing up by his side in the same village. Mizu never went into depth about what Taigen and his friends had done to her before the two of you met, but she said enough to make you strongly dislike the man.
He was surprised to see you, especially in the getup you were in, dressed similarly to Mizu. In your defense to yourself, how were you supposed to hunt in the kimonos that the women usually wore?
Today, Ringo was tailing your grandfather everywhere, claiming to be his new apprentice and Taigen was off exploring Kohama for the first time in years. You leaned against the building and watched as Ringo rambled while pulling out the firewood your grandfather needed, and your grandfather grumbled under his breath in irritation.
You let yourself chuckle, something you hadn’t done in a long while before your head whipped around at the sound of a groan coming from inside the house. You turned on your heel and jogged inside, your jaw dropping as you gasped at the sight of Mizu. She was sitting up, her hand pressing against the injury that had been stitched up by Ringo before you’d been alerted of her presence in your home.
You quickly ran forward and fell to your knees, engulfing her in a tight embrace. You felt her stiffen as you began to cry into her nape, but she seemed to recognize you quickly and returned the embrace, shutting her eyes tightly.
When you felt her warmth beneath your fingertips, it felt like you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. She came home. To you. And she was alive.
“Mizu…” You laughed through a sob, your hands shakily grabbing the fabric covering her shoulders. Relief flooded through your system as she rested a hand at the small of your back, tugging you closer against her. “You’re alive! Oh my god, you’re alive.” You pulled back, shaky hands cupping her cheeks gently. 
She brought a hand up to grab one of your own to steady your touch, leaning into your hand tenderly before turning into it and pressing a kiss to your palm. It felt good to be home. You were home, still. After all these years, after Mikio, after everything, you remained constant, unmoving. One of the only people that were consistently by her side after everything.
“I missed you,” She mumbled, her right hand coming up to gently rub your chin with her pointer finger while her left hand rested against one of the hands on her face. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long.”
You laughed through continuous tears, shaking your head softly, “I’m just glad you’re back, dumbass.” You held her face a little tighter, sniffling. “Even if you were half dead.”
“I kept my promise, didn’t I?” She joked, gazing into your eyes. They still held so much kindness and love for her… god, she didn’t deserve you. 
“Barely…” You pouted, beginning to litter kisses over her face. She laughed softly, enjoying the affection far too much for her own good. She couldn’t leave you behind again, not now. Two years without you was already enough torture. You finally lingered your mouth over her own when the door opened, and you both turned your gazes to see Taigen awkwardly standing in the doorway.
“Was I…” He clears his throat. “...interrupting something?”
Mizu scoffs, rolling her eyes, “When do you not?” She asked rhetorically, beginning to bicker with the man.
Before he left again, he started mumbling something about how ridiculous Mizu was being and how he didn’t need this today. You couldn’t help but snicker at the mans grumbles, turning to face Mizu again, who was already smiling dotingly at you. She grabbed your face softly in one hand, and you melted into the touch that was missed and yearned for.
“Now where were we?”
915 notes · View notes
averageallogene · 9 months
Note
Resubmitting because my WiFi weirded out when I was posting.
Jean convinces Diluc to dump you for her, because you are, in her own words, 'Not noble enough'.
With nothing holding you back in Mondstadt, you return to Inazuma to take up your Clan duties.
Less than a year later, you receive Diluc and Jean's wedding invite and you attend with Ayato as your plus-one.
At the reception, Eula instantly recognizes your Clan crest on your obi belt.
Jean proceeds to mock you as she makes her rounds to greet her wedding guest and Eula defends you, stating that your Clan is the overseer of the Tri-Commission *and* the First Clan of Inazuma, out-ranked only by the Raidan Shogun and Yae Miko. And you are its Clan Head.
Diluc ♡⊹˚ Not Enough (SFW)
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fem. reader (3rd person) ; angst. cw for jealousy, heartbreak. Implied Ayato x reader.
4k words.
notes. Alright I am back with a bag of piping hot telenovela drama! I had a lot of fun writing this, even if I fear my Jean and my Diluc turned out a little ooc? Oh and Ayato is a petty menace. Well, suffice to say I took some liberty with this one- I hope we can just slide past through it and I’ll get better at their portrayals  eventually <3. Enjoy!✧˖°
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The tranquility of Mondstadt, accompanied by the welcomed breezes it brought daily, was enough for anyone to fall in love with the country. The land of the Anemo Archon was blessed with peace, as well as a beauty to behold as its people were one of the most welcoming [F/N] had ever come across. It had been enough to compel her to stay a little longer when she’d begun traveling around Teyvat, with it bringing something more that urged her to remain there.
Diluc Ragnvindr, an otherwise very well known bachelor of Mondstadt, had certainly caught her eye. The feeling seemed to have been mutual, for [F/N]’s appearance and Inazuman style of clothing definitely stood out amongst the usual crowd. It had begun friendly enough, the winery tycoon seeking information regarding the Inazuman palette when it came to alcoholic beverages. Of course, as a businessman Diluc had plans of expanding to other nations, with  or without vision hunt decrees meddling in the middle. During that time, [F/N] had remained in Mondstadt, visibly stressed with the fate of her country. Thankfully, she had a friendly shoulder to rely on on the same wealthy bachelor. It turned out Diluc wasn’t all appearances, his very being burning with a gentleness that was enough to swoon the young woman off her feet. 
[F/N] was far from her family during said time, and exchanging letters was difficult. She’d never been exactly too open when it came to them, yet no one wished to pry. With the borders closed, she had next to no possibility of returning without possibly being detained, regardless of status. War reeked with personal vendettas after all, and to someone of high status as herself, many would indeed covet to take what was hers amidst the chaos. Unbeknownst to her, it had been these early signs of trouble that had helped her in convincing her father of letting her seek out the world whilst she could, sending his only daughter off to the land of the free before she too were to be caged down by duties and unfortunate circumstances.
Homesickness was terrible, but thankfully she had Diluc to aid her. Together they’d spend time together, whether that was in Angel’s Share as the bustling tavern closed its doors for the night, or whenever he offered her to have a tranquil walk through the Dawn Winery. His estate had quickly become one of her favorites, the scenery and the sound of the rustling leaves bringing an inner peace strong enough to temporarily wash away her worries. With the more time they spent together, they found more in common that they had, including dreams, plans for the future, even hobbies. It wouldn’t be difficult to find the pair reading by the fireplace, or even discussing various topics while enjoying a game of chess, hence many murmurs of Diluc’s sweetheart beginning to circle throughout Mondstadt. 
Still, he was a traditional man when it came to such affairs. Diluc was one to take things slowly, yet it was more than noticeable the way he held her hand gently, the way he’d open doors whenever they arrived somewhere, the way his hand would linger on her lower back as they walked through the streets. It wasn’t as though they were official yet, but to [F/N], it was more than apparent she was being courted. And truth be told, her heart couldn’t leap any higher.  Sadly, her expectations would come crashing to the ground, coincidentally just as the climax of the vision hunt decree took place miles away in Inazuma. 
Diluc had grown hesitant, a little distant even. He was a man to remain firm in his beliefs, yet with the right approach and from the right people, even the most determined man could falter. He’d told [F/N] of stories of his childhood, of happier times when his father was around, of times he and Kaeya got along well. Of times he had friends over at the winery, when his mind would only be preoccupied with fantasies he’d construct with his friends at the height of their innocence. [F/N] had listened to him happily, content with the idea of him having a good childhood, of having good friends. Good friends such as Jean Gunnhildr. [F/N] had noticed the way her glance would sparkle at him, yet they were only friends he’d reassured her, and it would’ve definitely seemed as such before it no longer did. The young lady wasn’t ignorant; the way Jean eyed Diluc paralleled the way she did as well, yet she had confidence in the chance she had with him until he’d taken the first step backwards.
He’d been calm, gentle with her upon shooting her down. His heart was murky, he had too many responsibilities. He had a lot to take care of between his tavern and his winery, as well as other responsibilities she wasn’t aware of. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to commit, and he was most sorry for leading her on. [F/N]’s heart broke with the way she was shot down, yet she gracefully smiled still, thanking him for his honesty. Even though she was the one being rejected, the woman placed a friendly hand on his arm, ensuring there were no harsh feelings, as well as wishing him the very best. Wishing that he soon find himself, reassuring that she would always support him. The urge to cry was strong, more so with the way his often gentle gaze shifted away from her. Yet, [F/N] persevered, pushing back any theories her mind crafted as the man she’d grown to love was swept away from her fingers. 
A gut feeling whispered to her that Jean had been the instigator, yet with no concrete proof, [F/N] was left out in the rain as Mondstadt grew less and less picturesque. The winery didn’t feel welcoming anymore, the once bustling streets of the main city were now noisy instead of charming. The mere sight of the crest of the knights of Favonius irked her, for it reminded her of the woman she knew was the reason Diluc had grown distant. In all her years of education back in Inazuma, [F/N] had grown to know when a rival struck through the shadows. She’d grown to realize the subtle signs, yet she’d held on faith for her beloved’s friend. It had proved futile, and now, bitterness replaced the fondness she’d held for the city of freedom. 
[F/N] held a letter that had finally reached her from her home country, bags being packed by the few escorts that had arrived to retrieve her. She’d arranged for them to only move at night, lest she wished to have unwanted attention on her as well as the Inazuman samurai her bedridden father had sent for her. Her duties ripped her out of her wishes to remain in Mondstadt, reality beckoning her back as her dreams were left behind with a broken heart, swept by the breeze. 
Ironically enough, Kaeya, of all people, had been the only one to notice her that night. There was the faint scent of wine on him, yet he was still sober enough to have a coherent speech. He’d waited for her by the city walls, a small expression of regret as he inquired if she really had to go. The relationship between the brothers was brittle to say the least, yet Kaeya would’ve been a fool to deny how Diluc seemed happy with her. How he liked seeing his brother happy. The Cavalry Captain voiced his wish for her to stay, explaining how he enjoyed her company, how Mondstadt did. It stung [F/N], yet with a sad smile, she told him she couldn’t stay even if she wished to. And without explaining further as to why she had to leave, Kaeya suddenly let out with a bitter chuckle.
“Is it because Jean sees you as not noble enough? I can assure you [F/N], no one here really cares for such superficial reasoning.”
It had struck a chord in her, for her suspicions were confirmed. All of this heartbreak had stemmed because [F/N], no matter how hard she tried, would never be one of them, the children of the wind. She was from the land of lightning, and apparently to some, appreciating and learning of their history wasn’t as good enough as being directly related to it. Her hands grasped her coat tightly, and with a curt response of how it was due to other things, she’d thanked Kaeya for everything before leaving the city in the middle of the darkness.
The voyage back to Inazuma had been long, but even more so bittersweet. She’d just arrived in time to say a final goodbye to her father, too sick to even get up from his bed as he held her hand one last time. He could see the heartbreak in her eyes, yet he was too weak to inquire on who was the monster to hurt his beloved daughter. All he could say was that the future of their clan lay now on her hands, the pressure nearly suffocating her. Amidst the conflict with the vision hunt decree, her eldest brother, who’d sided with the rebellion in secret, had been murdered, his drink poisoned. And even as justice had been served, life needed to move on, leaving the seat of Clan Head now to her. 
Days in Inazuma were vinegary. Her homecoming had been filled with heartache, having lost her brother, and soon after her father as well. Days, weeks, months, they all passed in a blur, [F/N] focusing on the heavy task of overseeing the tri-commissions as she donned her clan’s crest with pride. 
Not noble enough, it kept repeating inside her head every day, every time she put her obi on. The young woman hated to admit it, but the pettiness of it all had become her drive, fueling her as she surpassed her father in more aspects than one. In a short amount of time, she’d proved herself as a worthy ruler of her clan, an iron fist masked with elegance and grace as her name grew more and more respected by all the other clans. 
Despite her secluded life filled with responsibility, as well as her still distrusting heart, [F/N] allowed very few people in. She could count her friendly acquaintances with solely one hand, but amongst them were the Kamisato siblings. Businesses aside, they were able to lay down their crests for an afternoon every once in a while, enjoying each other’s company over finely brewed tea as they watched the sunset together, recounting stories to one another as time flew by during such leisure moments.
It had been during one such rare occasion, that [F/N] found herself enjoying tea with Kamisato Ayato, his sister busy with her own set of duties whilst the Commissioner took a much needed break. His trained eye could see how she was tense, eyes lowered as they remained narrowed with a bitterness he’d known all too well. Gently, he’d inquired if all was well, and with a quick glance, [F/N] debated if she should burden the already busy head of the Yashiro Commission with her petty bickering.
“You should know by now that I’m not one to ask things out of courtesy, [F/N].” Ayato had calmly stated, an enigmatic smile dancing on his lips as she took a sip of her tea. “I’m genuinely inquiring about your well-being, for I do in fact care. So please, if something is troubling you, do not hesitate to say.” 
And with a heavy sigh, the woman placed her cup down, before finally coming clean. From her large sleeve she revealed to him a sealed letter, one with a wax stamp of nothing more than the Ragnvindr clan displayed on it.
“It seems one of my acquaintances back in Mondstadt is about to get married, and has decided to invite me to his wedding.” Ayato hid his grin of amusement with the way she spat the word acquaintance with such distaste. It was enough for him to have an inkling of what could’ve transpired during her stay in the land of the Anemo Archon. “I suppose it’s his way of voicing his wish of letting bygones be bygones, but I cannot help but taste the sweet irony of it all.”
“Oh? Has he, perchance, hurt you deeply?” He’d inquired, watching as she lowly nodded her head.
“I was under the assumption he’d been courting me,” [F/N] revealed to her friend, remembering the way her heart clenched upon first reading its contents. The fact he was marrying after such little time apart, and to Jean no less, still filled her broken heart with such indescribable bitterness. “But then… Nevermind. I was needed to return, regardless. One way or another, it would’ve ended in tragedy.”
“My deepest condolences.” Ayato spoke softly, his hand gently resting atop hers before holding it cordially. “Do you intend on skipping the wedding? Just know there is no shame in doing what’s best for you.”
“I’ve thought about it.” She sighed, holding his hand back with a thankful squeeze. “Yet, I can’t bring myself to shut him off entirely either. He was, after all, someone who had helped me a lot during my stay in Mondstadt.”
“Ah yes, the heart is a most complex little thing…” Ayato breathed out, a faint smile on his face as he offered her an understanding glance. “When is it taking place?”
“In about three months.” [F/N] had nearly sulked, still glaring at the letter as if her sheer glance could burn the whole thing. Ayato had simply nodded, before insisting she take a little longer to reflect on what would be best for her.
In truth, Ayato decided to free up his schedule for three months into the future. Not only could he be a little petty when it came to his own allies, he truly did care for the well-being of his friend. In all honesty, perhaps it was best he didn’t know the full details of how she’d been shot down, lest he make an even bigger, yet still elegant, ruckus. In the end, he’d offered his company were she to decide on going to the celebration, and against all odds, [F/N] had accepted. With Ayato by her side, the young woman felt a sudden surge of confidence. Perhaps it was the idea of her being accompanied by a kind, and well accomplished man, that had her feeling that way.
And with her confirmation letter being sent with the intent on bringing a plus one, time was the only thing between [F/N] and her return to Mondstadt. Diluc was surprised she’d accepted, but he couldn’t deny he was happy. In all honesty, he truly wished for them to start over, for her friendship was deeply valued to the man. Jean on the other hand, was a little flabbergasted she’d accepted. To her, it had solely been a courtesy to send an invite, yet she’d be lying if she hadn’t predicted her decline of attending their wedding. Despite the slight disappointment, the Lionfang Knight was already stressed as it was; perhaps it would be best to just ignore it, and prepare for their big day as best as she could. 
The day for their voyage had arrived, and true to his word, Ayato accompanied her on their ship. Everything had been prepared, their duties being fulfilled by others for the duration of their trip. It was a much needed breath of fresh air, a small vacation he’d joked, smiling with eloquence even when he wasn’t one to enjoy large group gatherings. He’d insisted that he and [F/N] both dress in their finest clothing, for they were representing their Clans on foreign lands, and by extension, representing Her Excellency as well. Their crests displayed proudly on their clothing, made of the finest silks and brightest tones, arms linking together as [F/N] held her fan to her lips as they finally disembarked at the docks. 
Ayato had surely made a statement with the entire entourage he’d organized for the two of them, it almost seemed as though he indeed knew of what had been the reason given for their breakup. Then again, [F/N] thought, perhaps he did know. Ayato was a man of many means after all, who was to say he hadn’t read her bitterness like an open book? The way [F/N] looked at him smiling in that knowing way of his didn’t help her case, either… Well, it was too late to go back, anyway.
The way they’d arrived on Mondstadt had certainly caused an uproar, citizens watching in curiosity as the samurai escorted them to the hotel where they would stay until the day of the festivities. Most of the Knights of Favonius were busy as per usual, away from their arrival save for the guards stationed at the city gates who had warmly welcomed them upon confirming their identities and the purpose of their visit. Gossip was quick to follow, yet Ayato paid no mind, calmly chatting away with [F/N] as they were led to their rooms.
News of wealthy guests from the east reached the couple’s ears, yet neither Diluc nor Jean paid much mind. After all, Diluc had many wealthy acquaintances, most of them stemming from his businesses within the wine industry. All he cared for was to ensure all their confirmed guests had indeed arrived, including [F/N]. And upon being told she had in fact, he only nodded his head, not inquiring any further. Him and his bride were much too busy making the final preparations after all, and unbeknownst to him, Kaeya only watched in the background, an amused grin on his face as he patiently waited for the big show.
The bells rang with vigor on the big day, [F/N] jolting inside her room as she wasn’t exactly used to the way their Church would announce anything so loudly. Ayato had already finished preparing, smiling her way before offering his help in adjusting her obi. 
“You look positively beautiful.” He’d stated in a matter-of-fact tone, watching as she smiled at him with an honest, thankful gleam. “Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” She had sighed, nodding her head as she inwardly psyched herself up to go forth with the day. And without much issue, the pair left their hotel and made haste for the sight of the ceremony. 
Amidst the sea of guests, their presence had gone mostly unnoticed. It was best as such, [F/N] gazing ahead as she watched the man who she’d once thought would be the one marry another woman. Her heart still clenched slightly at the reality, yet Ayato’s presence helped her in grounding herself as she took a deeper breath. Her arm remained around his, admiring how beautiful they looked, how happy they gazed at one another. Even if Jean forever held a deep stain in her eyes, she couldn’t deny how radiant and gorgeous she looked in her wedding gown. The warm glow of the church veiled around them in a romantic manner, the union finally being tied as the main ceremony came to a close. For the first time in a while, [F/N] found herself smiling at the sight of Diluc with another. Perhaps, she thought, she would eventually get through this. Even if it still hurt, even if she still thought back on how she hadn’t been enough. 
Customs between Mondstadt’s weddings and Inazuma’s weddings differed, yet she and Ayato found themselves easily following along as everyone moved on to the reception. It was during this time that the guests began conversing more freely with one another, finally having a look around as they noted who had come to support the happy couple, who had come with whom. It was during this time that [F/N] could feel eyes on her, glances of surprise to herself and her partner being shared as she commented on how the food was delightful with Ayato. 
“Is that… [F/N]?” Eula had commented with Kaeya, who had nodded his head with an amused grin on his face. Despite the elaborate way she dressed when in comparison with the way she did when she had stayed in Mondstadt, nothing could escape her eye as a noble herself. “She looks radiant. And the man beside her…”
[F/N]’s voice could be heard not far, Ayato relishing in the way his comment had brought a laugh out of her. He patted himself on his back for having gotten the willpower to deal with such a packed event, for the way his friend seemed more relaxed had been more than worth it in his eyes. They kept on chatting together, a select few female acquaintances of [F/N]’s joining them as they soon found more company to converse with.
“[F/N]! It’s been so long… How have you been?” 
“You look amazing, [F/N]! I heard you’ve returned to Inazuma suddenly, is everything alright?”
“Who’s your friend there, [F/N]?” Followed with a knowing wink, causing the woman to blush before denying their accusations any further. 
Despite everything, the attention directed to a corner of their reception definitely wasn’t unnoticed by the happy couple, more so by the bride as her violet eyes gazed around. Jean found herself surprised upon landing her eyes on [F/N]’s face, recognizing her rather quickly despite the intricate ornaments she wore on her hair and the delicate makeup. She looked stunning, she thought, before stopping herself and clearing her throat. 
Her wandering gaze hadn’t gone unnoticed by Diluc, whose eyes followed before landing on [F/N] as well. It took him a moment to register who it was, and when it did, his shifting expression caused a stir of emotions deep within his bride.
“[F/N]?...” He’d muttered, Jean squeezing his hand lightly to return his attention to her.
“Come Diluc, we have to thank everyone for coming.” She’d hastily led him to the table where the rest of the Knights dined, all raising glasses of champagne and wine as the couple approached them. 
“Ah, Diluc, Jean! The ceremony was wonderful,” Lisa had smiled their way, a giggle following. “I nearly teared up at the vows. Goodness, weddings always make me so emotional.”
“The food is also delectable.” Kaeya grinned, his glass rising slightly above the others as he gave his brother a nod. “Congratulations to the both of you.”
“Congratulations! May your years be blessed with happiness and good fortune!” Amber smiled brightly.
“Yes, congratulations.” Eula complemented, smiling softly as Diluc held Jean close.
“Thank you everyone for coming. It is an honor to share such an important day with you all.” Diluc said with the utmost sincerity, smiling softly as Jean rested her hand on his chest.
“It’s a great pleasure.” Eula’s gaze narrowed as she could sense an unnecessary comment bubbling within Kaeya’s chest. The way he grinned spelled trouble, and just as she predicted so, the man swirled his glass of wine before he continued. “Of course, we wouldn’t miss your wedding for nothing! But perhaps it’s to those who’ve come from the furthest you should extend your greatest gratitudes.”
“Of course, we intend on thanking everyone as we go around every table.” Jean huffed with a small smile, still not following where he was headed. She rested a hand on her hip as she raised an eyebrow softly, Diluc too eyeing his brother as if expecting more.
“Oh, that’s great! I was beginning to think you were rounding around [F/N]’s table on purpose. But then again, you must still be thinking about how to properly thank her, no?”
“Kaeya!” Amber sighed, shaking her head as the mood slightly shifted around the table. The man simply shrugged, sipping on his wine before sighing with content over the wonderful undertones, as he explained. 
“Ah, Diluc! Congratulations, you lucky bastard!” Varka’s voice roared across the reception hall, hands plopping down on his shoulders as he laughed loudly. Diluc could only remain awkward as he quietly thanked him, the Grand Master practically whisking him away as he further congratulated him and gave him lessons on how to ensure his wife’s happiness.
“Honestly, I was surprised to know she’d be coming.” Jean watched her husband not stray too far, finally letting out a small sigh and folding her arms across her chest. “I’m still not quite sure how we’re going to address this, as her presence seems… Rather ill-intended.”
“Oh?” Kaeya’s gaze turned to her from the corner of his eyes, finding her choice of words amusing as he let her ramble on. 
“Diluc had voiced his wish of inviting her, and thinking it was just a formality I decided to agree with it. But for her to actually accept and show up seems bitter.” It was clear the stress was racing to her head, the table listening awkwardly as she rambled on. “While I understand it still must hurt given the circumstances, we would’ve hoped she would’ve let bygones be bygones. I simply find her actions to lack in-”
“Nobility?” Eula scoffed quietly, eyebrow raising quietly before watching Jean hesitate if she agreed with her or not. It was her turn to cross her arms, speaking directly to her. “I find it quite the opposite. I think that accepting and coming by to show her support shows just how noble she is. After all, for the head of her clan to not show up would’ve been scandalous. Do you know what kind of rumors that would start up, Jean?”
“Wait- Did you just say head of her clan?” Amber repeated, her eyes widening as Eula nodded her head.
“Yes. Haven’t you all realized? Look, notice [F/N]’s obi.” The group found themselves rather indiscreetly gazing towards [F/N]’s table, the crest displayed with pride as she enjoyed Ayato’s company. “It’s the crest of the first clan of Inazuma, otherwise known as the overseer of the Tri-Commissions of the nation. Basically, it’s the oldest still standing clan of the nation, only surpassed by the Archon herself and their Guji.” 
The table slowly digested the information, Eula proving yet again just how well educated she was not only to what concerned Mondstadt, but aristocracy of other nations as well. Her legs remained crossed as she finished explaining herself, leg bouncing lightly as she battled with herself to remain cordial despite not having quite liked her friend’s statement. Even if Jean was overly stressed, or their situation with [F/N] hadn’t been ideal, it had most definitely been an unnecessary comment. 
“Besides, the man next to her is none other than the head of the Yashiro Commission. Their Commission has many duties, including overseeing ceremonies and rituals that do include weddings. So, her choice of companion can most definitely be seen as yet another layer to her virtuous acceptance of your invitation.”
Kaeya found himself grinning unabashedly at the way Jean glanced away, clearly embarrassed with the outcome of the situation. She still held her arms crossed around her chest in a defensive manner, the Cavalry Captain thinking it would just be best if she left to avoid any further hits to her pride. For the first time in a while, he found himself agreeing fully with Eula, letting her take the reins of the situation as Jean’s ego was put in place. Sure, Kaeya liked Jean. Yet still, he couldn’t deny he thought [F/N] would’ve been a better match for Diluc. Call him petty, but he was enjoying the situation. 
“Sorry about that,” Diluc sighed as he returned to their side, his hand resting on Jean’s waist as he gazed around the table. “Erhm, everything alright? You all look, how should I put it…”
“Nothing to worry about.” His brother grinned, waving his hand dismissively as everyone began eating their food. “You go and thank everyone for coming by, yeah? Enjoy yourselves, after all it’s your wedding day!”
Despite the confusion with his sudden upbeat tone, Diluc simply nodded, leading his bride to continue on going through table to table. Needless to say, now that it was he who took the lead, they soon found themselves at [F/N]’s table, the man surprised to see her so intricately dressed and in the presence of someone of such stature.
Nonetheless, and despite the sudden lump of awkwardness that lodged itself in his throat, Diluc took his time to properly thank them for coming, [F/N] simply gazing at them and replying it was their pleasure. Ayato was the one to take charge in their response, smiling cordially as he basked in the way his bride seemed to avert her gaze from them. If looks could diminish someone’s presence, Jean would’ve been long gone, reduced to atoms. And Ayato would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it, holding [F/N]’s hand with such delicacy as if they were more than friends.
And as they left, he carefully leaned over her ear, watching as she met him halfway to hear what he had to say.
“Well, that was amusing. Perhaps next year we should invite them to our wedding. A fun retaliation, no?”
“W-What?”
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lilislegacy · 6 days
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I feel like so many people understate how important Annabeth and Percy’s relationship to each other is. People tend to view it as just a romantic relationship but it’s not. Their each other’s best friend, life partners, war partners, family, and very literal soul mates. People rarely find a significant other with two of those aspects let alone all of them.
thanks for the ask @darkmist111!
i agree completely. that’s why i loved that line in HoH when annabeth said that ‘boyfriend’ wasn’t a good enough word for percy because he’s so much more than that to her. as she said herself, he’s part of her. and she’s part of him. they aren’t just boyfriend and girlfriend. although they do love each other romantically/sexually and have a ton of chemistry and attraction towards each other, they also are best friends in the whole world. percy says many times in pjo that annabeth is his best friend, even when they’re fighting. they have the best time together. they want to do everything together. they are besties. their friendship is incredibly strong.
i also feel like people underestimate what it means to be battle partners. they trust each other in life or death situations. they know each other’s moves. they know what the other can take. they’ve experienced so much fear and pain and stress together. they’ve carried the weight of the world on their shoulders together. multiple times. literally and figuratively. being battle partners means that they have a level of trust and admiration that can only come from that kind of partnership.
i love this line in BotL
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she doesn’t even hesitate to ask him first to come with her, and he doesn’t even hesitate to say yes. but it’s also like that in every book. if they are going on an adventure, they are going together
the thing about percy and annabeth is that they aren’t just meant to be together. i mean they are, and if soulmates are real in rick’s world, then they are 100% soulmates. but it’s not just fate. its choice. they choose each other. every day. to be their best friend. to be their lover. to be their battle partner. to be their confidant. with the life they got handed, they don’t get a lot of choices. they don’t get to choose what their life looks like. or their future. the minute their godly parents gave them life, they lost the the ability to choose a lot of things for themselves. but percy and annabeth choose each other. every dam time. and that’s what i love about them
anyway sorry for rambling, but i completely agree. they are each other’s everything. words can’t explain how much they mean to each other
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kingkatsuki · 1 year
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Sealed With A Kiss | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
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Didn’t think I’d write anything for Bakugou’s birthday and then a random idea popped into my head and I wrote it all in one sitting. It’s been months since I’ve started and finished a fic, so please be kind! And Happy Birthday, Bakugou!💕
Summary: Not everyone wants the quirk that they're given. Ever since you were a child, you were cursed with a quirk where you’re able to see how someone will die when you kiss them. Unsure on whether your quirk is telling the future, or sealing their fate with a kiss of death, its safer for you to completely give up on finding love. Coming to terms over the years that you’ll have to watch all your friends get married and settle down, while you spend the rest of your life alone. That is, until you run into Bakugou Katsuki.
Warnings: 18+, minimal plot, mostly smut, no beta, praise, dirty talk, fingering, multiple orgasms, public sex, protected sex, not as angsty as I thought it’d be!
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.
Word Count: 6.4k.
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What would you do if you could tell someone the exact time and way that they’re going to die? Would you share that information with them, hoping that they can get their affairs in order and live those final moments to the fullest before kicking the bucket? Or would you keep quiet about it, holding onto the information as though it's a sordid little secret that needs to be buried and taken to your own grave?
Not that it matters anyway, because even if you held that information no one would believe you anyway, would they? Telling someone that they’re going to die in a car accident when they don’t even drive, or that they die during a snowstorm in July. It’s like people only ever believe what they want to hear, and it’s the same reason why even your best friend doesn’t know about your quirk. Imagine if you’d proved it, writing down your prediction and then waiting for it to happen. Counting down the days like you’re waiting for an exciting event, not waiting for someone to die. And then what? Someone dies and people want you to do it again, to prove that it wasn’t just a fluke. And then what? You’re kissing every single person that comes along just to tell them that they’re not going to make it to their next birthday?
Quirks should be a blessing, but yours was most definitely a curse.
“You know you really should start trying to settle down, you’re not getting any younger.” You could practically feel the disdain in their tone as you tried to avoid the question by taking a sip of your drink.
“You act like she’s going to die soon,” Your best friend Tatami laughed, shaking her head, “She’s got plenty of time.”
Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. You should scoff at the saying, but in this instance, it was very much true. The entire Hen party was made more awkward by the fact that you didn’t like any of your best friends friends’. All socialites that would give up your deepest, darkest secrets to further themselves and get their names plastered all over the latest tabloids. You were lucky enough to have known her since childhood, but it didn’t make it any easier.
Every wedding you’d attended in the last few years was even more elaborate and outrageous than the last like each bride competed to show that they had the most magnificent life. And every time you were stuck in an uncomfortable bridesmaid dress, trying to avoid the same string of questioning that you knew was coming.
“Come on, Tatami.” One of the girls rolled her eyes, taking a large sip of champagne, “Why don’t you try to set her up with one of your old school friends? At least then she’d be with a man with ambition.”
You felt irritated by them talking about you as though you weren’t even in the room, never mind sitting on the opposite ends of a table. They made it seem as though you were incapable of finding a partner like no one would ever want you.
“Or you could try one of those dating websites, I almost married a rich tycoon from Russia on there before I settled down with my husband. It’s funny how things work out.”
Of course, no one even bothers to ask me whether I want a boyfriend or not– never mind a husband. You rolled your eyes at the idea of flying out to Russia to marry a rich oil tycoon.
“I’m happily single at the moment,” You force a smile, your hand tightening against your glass, “
“They are right though, darling.” Tatami gave you a soft smile, “You have been single for quite some time. I’m not even certain I remember the last time you even mentioned going on a date with anyone?”
That’s because you hadn’t. Not since you lost your boyfriend all those years ago. Why would you try to look for someone again knowing what you know now?
Growing up you’d eagerly awaited receiving your quirk, but the longer it took to manifest the more you’d come to terms that you were one of the quirkless. It wasn’t until you shared your first kiss at sixteen that you realised that maybe things weren’t quite as they seemed. Everyone anticipates their first kiss, hoping it would be one of those special, perfect moments that you’d remember for the rest of your life. But instead, the moment you’d shared yours, you’d been struck with a horrifying premonition.
It felt like a dream at first, a moment where you’d pinch yourself and realise that everything had been concocted in your mind. The vision of your first love walking into traffic on a cold, snowy evening. The cars were unable to stop against the icy terrain as they drove straight towards him, the lights bouncing off the road to make it difficult to see pedestrians as he was knocked to his back. You’d even told him about it after it happened, laughing about how vivid your imagination was– but not even three months later and it's like your nightmare came true.
You’d told yourself it was a coincidence, that it could've happened to anyone and it was a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Trying to heal your heart as you took time to recover from losing your first love until you met your next boyfriend. You were trying to allow yourself to be happy again, to forget the bad memories that haunted your past. Until it happened again– your first kiss with him gave you a vision. This time a villain attack endangered the city, your boyfriend was caught in the crossfire as a fire quirk ripped through his body and burnt him from the inside out.
It should’ve frightened you, much like the first time. But instead, you just felt numb. It was then you realised that you weren’t in fact quirkless, but instead of gaining a talent that was cool, flashy or useful to society– you inherited a curse.
Of course, there was no way you could explain your quirk to anyone, finding someone that believed you would be hard enough. But telling someone that you know when they’re going to die purely from kissing them? It sounded insane. Not to mention what it could do if the information fell into the wrong hands. Using the information for those dark, depraved benefits.
And to this day you weren’t even sure whether kissing someone showed the way they were going to die, or whether kissing them sealed their fate. Like you were the grim reaper handing out the macabre kiss of death.
Why would anyone want to be with you?
So it was easier this way, guarding your heart so you couldn’t feel the pain of losing someone you love again. A small price to pay to ensure that you didn’t harm anyone else, and the disappointed looks from your friends that you were still very much single were a small price to pay.
But you did feel alone.
Watching all your friends get married, settle down and have kids was harder when you knew you could never have those things. Maybe that's why it hurt even more. We always desire what we can’t have, after all.
“Let me set you up on one date and see how it goes,” Tatami’s annoying friend dipped her glass towards you from across the table, the champagne sloshing inside it, “I have this friend, not much of a looker, but he’s a quirk defence lawyer. It pays good money, and he’s looking to settle down–”
“It’s alright, I’m really not looking–” You felt awkward as each set of eyes around the table scrutinised you.
“Nonsense, he’d be perfect for you,” She continued, and you almost groaned as she pulled out her phone, “Let me text him now, I bet he could get you lunch in that new Sushi restaurant in the city.”
“Sorry, I just need the bathroom-” You almost shoved Tatami out of the booth as she stood up to let you out, her drink splashing as you tried to give her a reassuring smile before disappearing into the throng of people inside the busy nightclub. You weren’t even sure if you’d be able to find it back to your table at this point, but all you knew is you needed to get out.
The heat inside the club was suffocating, burning through you as you tried to find an exit. Weaving through the sea of people as you tried to remind yourself to breathe. Heaving a sigh as you noticed the sign to a smoking area as you followed the few people heading in the same direction. Stepping into the cool evening air is a welcome relief, the chill pricks against your skin as the heat slowly simmers down. Leaning against the rough brick wall as the back of your head knocks against it gently, closing your eyes to try and alleviate the irritation bubbling up inside you.
“Oi, you okay?” Your eyes opened into a glare to see the source of the voice, your nose scrunched in irritation at the blunt introduction.
A blond man stood a few feet away from you, cell phone in hand. The bright screen illuminated his face and cast a soft glow against his skin. You felt your heart betray you as it sped up at the sight of him, suddenly feeling self-conscious beneath his piercing ruby gaze.
“M’fine.” You mumbled, not about to dump all your issues on a random stranger.
“You don’t look fine,” He shrugged, glancing back down at his phone as he typed against the screen.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You sneered, your defences up.
“You just look pissed,” He smirked, and it only irritated you more.
Who did this fucking asshole think he was?
“Well I’ve got a random stranger bothering me, so perhaps I am.”
The answer has the opposite effect you were expecting as the blond beside you gives you a wide grin, shaking his head.
“Gotta be better than the desperate pricks inside there?” He tilts his head towards the club and you’ve gotta admit he’s right. You’ve been standing beside him for a minute and he hasn’t tried to buy you a drink or grab your ass.
“Guess you’re right.” You exhale softly.
“Whatever it is can’t be that bad anyway,” He shrugs, “You’re too pretty to be frownin’.”
You hate the way your heart throbs when he calls you pretty, it's pathetic really.
“You come here alone?”
Does he really think you’re that much of a loser to come to a club by yourself?
‘No, my friends are still inside.”
“So why are you out here alone?” He raises a questioning brow.
“Why are you here?” You crossed your arms against your chest defensively, turning the question back on him like he wasn’t doing the exact same thing you were.
“Got a big promotion today,” He shrugs it off like it’s nothing. Probably just another step on the never-ending corporate ladder to him, “My friends got me out to celebrate.”
“Is that why you’re standing outside on your own?” You shoot back, unable to miss the way his nostrils flare in irritation.
“Could say the same to you, sweetheart.” He scoffs, “Who’re you here with?”
“My best friend,” You smile softly, “She’s getting married.”
“Not very rowdy for a hen party.”
“Oh yeah?” You watch the way his tongue darts out between his lips to wet them, “You're not exactly the life of the party yourself, are you?”
“Just wanna go home,” He rolled his eyes, “My friends turn into assholes when they’re drunk.”
“Mine can be assholes at any time.” You were already expecting texts in the morning trying to invite you on a blind date you didn’t even want to go on.
“Dya want me to call you a cab?” The guy held up his phone, “I can get you a separate one if you don’t wanna share. It ain’t safe to be out here alone.”
“Very considerate of you,” You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop your heart from doing a little flip, “I can take care of myself.”
“Sure looks like it,” He scoffed, “That why you’re gonna hide out here for the rest of the night?”
“Shut up,” You almost pouted, “I’ll go back in.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He smirked.
“What’s your name?” You asked as he slipped his phone back into his black jeans pocket.
“Bakugou.” He answered after pausing for a second, “What's yours?”
You mumble your name and can’t stop your cheeks from scalding when he responds with a soft “Pretty.”
Standing in a comfortable silence between the handsome stranger you watched groups of people slowly leaving the club, some moving on to their next destination for the night and others trying to stop their friends from throwing up before they climbed into their designated cabs.
“Gonna take fuckin’ ages to catch a cab now, I hate this part of the city.” Bakugou groans, running his palm down the length of his face.
“You could go back in and party,” You shrugged, “I’m sure your friends are missing you.”
“Yeah? After you, sweetheart—” Bakugou made a mock chivalrous movement with his arm to invite you to go back inside first which you rejected. Moving back to stare into the sea of people with a small smile on your face, “Didn’t think so.”
You stood in a comfortable silence beside him for what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes. One of the first times in a long time that you felt yourself as you both listened to the rowdy cheers in the background.
“Do you ever just want to say fuck it and disappear?” You surprised yourself by speaking your thoughts out loud.
“Go somewhere where no one knows who the fuck you are or what the fuck you’re doin’?” Bakugou responded simply.
“Yeah.”
“All the time.” He murmurs.
“It just hurts when it seems like everyone else has their perfect little lives while you’re just waiting on the sidelines,” You sigh. Maybe it was easier offloading everything onto a random stranger, it wasn’t as though you had anyone else you could talk to, “It’s just lonely.”
“You don’t have to be lonely.” He replied as though it was the most simple answer.”
“It’s not that easy,” You shake your head.
“Who said it ain’t that easy?” Bakugou turned to face you, his frame towering over you as you looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Cause I’m always lonely.” You felt hot, pearly tears beginning to clump in your lash line as you thought about the nights you spent at home alone while all your friends were with their partners. The life that you’d always dreamed about, but never have. For once you just wanted someone to be there for you, with you, “It's just how it is.”
“You don’t have to be though, sweetheart.” He whispers.
“Yeah?” You murmurs, “Do you feel alone too?”
“Fuck,” He groans, leaning his forehead against yours as he stands with you for a moment, “C’mere.”
Bakugou took your hand in his as he walked you through the crowd of people outside the rowdy venue and down a dark dingy alley that was illuminated in fierce neon lights from the various clubs dotted along the high street. You followed behind him obediently as your heart danced against your ribcage, astounded by your daring behaviour. He could be a murderer or a psychopath for all you knew– just another stranger out looking for his next victim. But for some reason (maybe it was the liquid courage coursing through your veins) you felt safe with him.
He moves his hands to your hips as he pushed you back against the cool brick wall, slotting himself between your parted thighs as he looks down at you with crimson eyes. The scent of liquor was sharp on his breath as his lips hovered close to you, warmth fanning your face as he leaned to kiss you.
“No kissing,” You gasped as you tilted your head just in time to avoid his lips as he pressed a wet, scorching kiss against your jawline.
If he had an issue with it, he didn’t voice it. The only sound was a rough grunt rumbling from the back of his throat as his lips continued to pepper sloppy kisses along your neck. Your fingers swiftly carded through his messy hair, nails grazing his scalp as you tried to pull him closer. As though everything right now wasn’t enough, you needed more.
“Please,” You whine as you felt his teeth graze your pulse point, hips bucking as strong palms reached out to steady you. Keeping you still as he bit down on the supple skin hard, the sudden pain had you crying out for him as the ache blurred your vision. Or maybe it was the alcohol running through your system— warm lips suckling the fresh bite mark as you clench your thighs together in a feeble attempt to give your neglected clit some much-needed friction.
“Please, what?” He rasps against your neck, his tongue salving against the mark he’d left against your skin moments earlier.
This is the part where you should’ve stopped him. Making up an excuse about Tatami wondering where you are, or needing to get home and disappearing into the night. But you didn’t—
“Touch me,”
“You always beg random strange men to touch you, sweetheart?” He smirked, his hand reaching round to grab a handful of your ass, “Or am I just special?”
If only he knew how unlike you this really was, that no one had touched you so intimately in years. A thought that would’ve surely ruined the mood if Bakugou’s hand hadn’t slipped beneath your dress to cup your aching sex, the sensation had you gasping in surprise as the blonde smirked down at you.
“I’m just special, hah?” He answered his own question with a toothy grin, “Is that why your panties are dripping for me?”
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this insatiable. Evenings spent at home with your toys felt nothing like the way his warm hands felt against your skin, uncaring that you were in a dirty alleyway as you found yourself grinding into his touch.
“Fuck,” You murmur, your head knocking against the cold brick as Bakugou presses the heel of his palm against your clit through the sheer fabric. A heat blazes through his touch and scorches you as you writhe against him, desperate to create a delicious friction as he smirks down at how salacious you look at this moment.
“You’re so fuckin’ wet, bet I’d slide right in.” He grunts, surprising himself at his blunt words. Blaming his audaciousness on the alcohol Sero and Denki had plied him with not long ago, the liquor flowing through his veins.
“Please,” It’s quite pathetic really, just how easily this man has turned you into this. You’d managed to go years without the touch of a man, and now you’d felt it for a moment you were unsure how you’d ever lived without it.
“Oh, fuck.” He chokes back a groan as he pulls your panties to the side, the skirt of your dress now shamelessly bunched around your waist as he notes the glossy strings of your essence that cling to the flimsy fabric of your panties, “This all for me?”
His fingers drag through your slick shamelessly, testing it on his fingers as he feels the heat radiating from your core. He spends little time circling your puffy clit before continuing lower, dipping one thick digit inside your tight hole. You wish at this moment that you’d worn slightly prettier panties than the plain black ones you wore right now, but if Bakugou had any issues with them he certainly didn’t seem to mind as he pumped his finger in and out of your core.
“Shit, you’re so sensitive.” He groans at the way your body responds to him, thrashing against him as he places more pressure on your clit.
“Please, Bakugou.” Your thighs quiver as he continues pumping his finger inside you, feeling the way your walls hungrily try to suck him in deeper, to take all he's got to give and more.
“Wish we weren’t in a dirty fuckin’ alley right now, princess. I’d have you sit on my face.” He groans, feeling the way your cunt clenches around him at his lewd words. You’d never wished something so bad in your life, tempted to tell him you didn’t mind if there was an audience if it meant having his lips wrapped around your clit.
“I don’t normally do this shit,” He groans, nuzzling your neck.
“Fuck strangers in alleys?” You tease as he gives you a playful smirk against your skin.
“Somethin’ like that.”
You groan as he adds another finger to join the first, stretching you open as your nails dig crescent-shaped moons into the base of his neck, leaving reddened indents against his skin as he growls from the slight twinge of pain. The sounds coming from your cunt are downright crude, echoing around the empty alley as he deliberately curls his fingers to press against the spongy spot inside you.
“Shit, you’re fuckin’ dripping.” Bakugou grunts, watching your creamy slick dribble down his fingers and settle into his palm, his thumb pressing sloppy circles against your needy clit as you shamelessly rock your hips into his touch. Greedily searching for the orgasm that he’s more than happy to give to you.
“Look at you,” He goads, “You’re so fuckin’ easy. This sloppy ‘nd I’ve barely even touched you. Is this all it takes, sweet girl?”
You don’t have the heart to tell him how long it's been since anyone touched you like this, that no matter how hard you try to replicate his touch after today, you’ll probably never feel anything like this again. It’s like he’s tempting you to say something, to give him a witty comeback. But you can’t, not when his fingers are stroking you in all the right places, stretching you out in preparation for what you know is soon to come. You spread your thighs further apart to give him more access, a movement that has a wide grin from ear to ear appearing on his face. Standing on shaky heels as he ensures you stay upright with a palm on your waist.
He knows when he’s found it, like a lost ship searching for the bright glow of a lighthouse to guide it home. Pushing his calloused digits against the same spot that he knows will have you coming undone.
“Right there, huh baby?” He coos, “Yeah, I know, I know. Such a pretty pussy.”
You must look debauched now, your tongue lolling out as you pant pathetically with your head knocking against the cold brick wall. Allowing Bakugou– a complete stranger– to do as he so pleases with you.
“Oi, you listening to me?” He growls, and you can’t even remember what he’s just said. So lost in your own bliss as he continues to press the same persistent circles against your clit, “Course you ain’t, so desperate to cum, hm?’
“Please, Bakugou.” You mumble, breaking off into a salacious moan as he increases his pace eagerly trying to push you over the edge. He’s watching intently as you writhe against him, dangerously close to your release as you pulse around his digits.
“Fuck,” He almost snarls, the sound sending shockwaves direct to your needy cunt as you feel yourself vaulting into your bliss.
His fingers don’t stop their ministrations, even as you're crying out for him and gushing all over them. He instead, increases his pace, determined to have you completely intoxicated on him before he's even begun.
“You’re so goddamn noisy, ain’tcha?” He scoffs, finally pulling his digits from your spent cunt with a crude squelch. Unabashedly holding them up to his lips as he tastes you on his tongue, groaning as though he's tasted the sweetest ambrosia as he cleans you off his skin.
“Please, Bakugou.” You slur, legs shaky from the intense orgasm he’d gifted you as he pulls his fingers from his mouth.
Bakugou’s fingers are quick to unfasten his belt, letting the heavy buckle hang as he dipped his thumbs into the hem of his boxers to pull them down along with his jeans. Letting the material settle around the curve of his ass, just enough to free his aching cock. The sight of it had your thighs quivering in anticipation, the bulging head an angry pink colour as it oozed pre from the slit. Dribbling down the underside as the veins that forked along his girth made him appear even bigger, the length of it drooped down from the sheer weight as you wondered how on earth he could keep something that size hidden beneath his jeans.
“S’big,” You murmur, biting down on your lower lip as your cunt throbs in anticipation. Even his balls look huge, thick and weighty as you watch him give himself a teasing pump. His wrist rolling as he smears pre along the length. Ready to ignore how damp and filthy the floor looks in favour of dropping to your knees to worship his cock as it deserves.
“Think you can still manage it though, sweetheart.” He grins, “I know that pretty pussy’s good for it.”
You’re almost disappointed when he pulls a condom out from his wallet in his back pocket, seemingly you’ve found the only man in the entire bar with a conscience as he rips the foil packet open with his teeth. Lifting one of your thighs up to press against his hip as his cock slips between your folds, the fat tip catching against your entrance as he sucks in a breath.
“Don’t do that,” Bakugou groans, “You’ll make me wanna fuck you raw.”
“Do it then.” You challenge, wondering whether he really is like all the sleazy men your friends end up with.
“Another time, baby.” He glowers back, pushing the tip of the condom against the head of his cock as he slides it down his length.
The first push against your tight entrance has the air stolen from your lungs, a dull ache from the stretch in your core as his thick cock slowly breaches your sex.
“Holy fuck,” He grunts, his fingers dipping into the fat of your thigh as he holds it against his hip, “You’re so tight.”
He smirks at how desperate you are to feel him inside you, trying to drop yourself down on his length as he gives a few, shallow thrusts. Your fingers dig into his skin to try and get him to give you more, rewarding you by thrusting all the way inside. One sharp rut is all it takes to have him sheathed inside you, your walls moulding to the shape of his cock as he takes a moment to cherish the sensation of you wrapped around him.
“Told you I’d slide right in, perfect fuckin’ pussy.” He groans, slowly pulling back as he glances down between you to watch his cock slide out of your warm heat before you take every inch again.
There’s not much you can do in this position except stand there and take what Bakugou’s got to give, his rough thrusts push you against the wall as he almost sweeps you off your feet. His messy pubes tickle your clit with every forward motion as your essence leaks from your needy cunt and dribbles down his heavy balls.
His scent is intoxicating, the saccharine tartness has you tugging him closer. Burying your nose into his neck to smell the mixture of cologne and his natural scent. It’s almost comforting as you cling to him a little tighter, trying to commit it to memory so you can cherish it when you inevitably end up alone after tonight.
“Oh, god.” You cling to his broad shoulders, holding him tight as he sets a brutal pace. The fabric of your dress catches against the rough brick behind you as he leaves a trail of kisses against your cheek.
The sensation is overwhelming, the pleasure rapidly building inside you as he continues thrusting into you with hard, sharp ruts of his hips. For once, the only thing you can think about is the white-hot pleasure coursing through you. The soothing ache from his cock stretching you open is almost cathartic as you let him use your body as he pleases, his rough hands groping at your exposed skin as he presses more scorching kisses against your jugular, sharp teeth nipping at your skin.
“Oh fuck, Bakugou.” You cry out, louder than intended as your toes curl from his harsh movement.
“Shit– You want us to get caught, sweetheart?” He groans, his palm reaching up to cover your mouth, “Can’t kiss you to shut’cha up, can I? So I’ll have to do this.”
And maybe it’s better this way, your lips warm against his palm as your lipstick smears against it. Otherwise, with the way he was looking down at you, you probably would’ve kissed him.
Your moans are muffled by Bakugou now, his pace unrelenting as he gives rough thrusts inside you. The lewd squelch vibrates around the empty alley and mingles with the loud thrum of bass that vibrates from inside the club. The loud bustle of voices only feet away as anyone could turn down and see you both in such a compromising position— not that it would be anything unusual. You certainly aren’t the first couple to fuck down this alley, if the empty condom wrappers and bottles are anything to go by, and you surely won’t be the last. But it’s been so unlike you to allow yourself to submit to your pleasure, to live a little.
“You still with me, pretty girl?” He groans, “Pussy feels so good. Can feel you clamping down around me.”
You whined against his palm, feeling the pleasure intensifying inside you as Bakugou continued his rough pace. Drunken patrons hollered boisterously as they left the bar causing him to shield your body with his broad back, taking his eyes off you to ensure they didn’t decide to come down the alleyway to interrupt you.
“Fuckin’ pricks.” Bakugou snarled under his breath as he stilled inside of you.
Your entire body felt as though it was on fire, hovering dangerously close to the edge of your climax as your cunt clenched around his thick cock. Causing Bakugou to suck a harsh breath through his teeth as he brought his attention back to you, the corner of his lip curling into a sly smirk.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I didn’t forget about you,” He groaned, languidly moving inside you, “Gonna make you cum so hard.”
“Please,” You mumbled, muffled by his hand as he began rolling his hips, the bulging tip of his cock catching against the spongy spot inside you with each pronounced thrust.
“Fuck,” Bakugou snarls, moving his hand from your mouth in favour of slipping it between your bodies to thumb at your clit. The sensation has your knees buckling as your weight drops, no longer able to hold yourself up. But he’s strong, keeping you pinned between his body and the wall as he keeps his unrelenting pace, “Come on, pretty girl. I know you’re close, can feel you choking me.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It’s embarrassing really, how one man— a stranger, can have you coming undone like this in public no less.
“So fuckin’ noisy, shit-” He grunts, his ruby gaze intense as he watches you come undone.
Bakugou steals your climax from you, his thumb is unrelenting against your clit as he feels your cunt clamp down around him. The loud cry that spills from your lips has him wincing as he hopes no one’s decided to look down the alley for a free show— something that would certainly make the front page this very morning. He eases you through your high, the white spots that dance across your vision make it feel like you’re seeing stars. A sea of constellations against your eyelids as you succumb to the pleasure.
“You look so pretty when you cum,” He groans, his face buried in the apex of your neck as he inhales deeply, committing your scent to memory as he cherishes the way your cunt clenches around his cock.
Bakugou pushes his fat cock inside you, as deep as he can go. Until his balls are snug against the swell of your ass as he feels the tremble of your cunt coming down from your high. His warm breath scorches your neck as he gives himself a moment's respite before picking up his pace once more, greedily using your body to chase his own release. His palm pushes your thigh up higher against his hip, changing the angle as the swollen tip of his cock finds what it was searching for. The euphoria already surging through your veins is enhanced by the attention from his cock knocking against the same spot inside you over, and over, and over.
“Think you can give me one more, sweet girl?” He rasps, watching your thick lashes flutter as tears blind your vision.
“I– can’t,” You manage to get out between broken breaths, unadulterated pleasure coursing through your veins.
“Yeah, you can.” He coos, his thumb persistent against your clit as he ruts into the same spot inside you, “C’mon, for me?”
The sensation building inside you is almost painful, still overwhelmed from your last intense climax the pleasure still bubbling to the surface as Bakugou is unrelenting. It’s too much, and yet not enough at the same time.
“Don’t hold back, sweetheart.” He groans, “Cum for me.”
Your body feels ungovernable as you succumb to the pleasure, a cry of his name tumbling from your lips that he doesn’t try to silence as he holds your quivering body. Preventing you from thrashing as he clings to you tightly, fingertips creating divots in your plush thigh.
“Oh fuck, there we go.” He snarls primally, nostrils flaring as he gives a few final shaky ruts of his hips, spilling his release inside the condom with a grunt as you both bask in the aftershocks of your release.
You’re certain if he let go of you now you’d collapse to the dirty floor, your legs no longer strong enough to support your weight as you cling to Bakugou. And he holds you back just as tight, dropping your sore thigh in favour of wrapping his arms around your waist as he remains buried inside your fluttering cunt.
He can still feel you spasming when he finally pulls out of you, sliding the condom off his spent cock as he shamelessly throws it onto the ground. Fixing your panties before pulling your dress back down around your thighs to hide your modesty before he moves to tuck his wet cock back inside his underwear and buttons his jeans.
You hadn’t expected him to hold you so tenderly, as though you were the world's most precious porcelain. But you both stand there for what feels like forever, basking in the afterglow as you sway side to side.
A large palm raised to cup your warm cheek, the calloused pad of his thumb brushing against the soft skin as he tilted your head to meet his gaze. Leaning forward as his eyes crossed to stare at your pouty lips, closing the distance slowly until you placed a palm on his chest.
“No kissing.” You repeated, turning your head as Bakugou pulled back, squinting at you.
“Still?” Bakugou grunts, “Why the no kissin’ bullshit?”
You couldn’t explain it to him, especially not after this. Wondering if it would be easier to make up a lie about your breath smelling or being nervous.
“I just can’t.” You sounded pathetic, internally wincing at the pitiful tone of your voice.
“Yeah, why?” He continued, “You got a boyfriend or somethin’?”
He actually looked hurt as he asked the question, his crimson gaze searching your eyes for any kind of deception as you shake your head no.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Husband?” Bakugou pushes as you shake your head again.
“No.”
“Then what’s the fuckin’ problem?” He spits, slightly more harshly than intended.
“You won’t like it,”
I don’t want to know when you die. You think to yourself.
“Like fuck I won’t.” He scoffed, “Fuckin’ dumbass.”
Bakugou caught you by surprise when he wrapped his palm around your neck, holding you so tenderly as he ducked his head forward. Catching you even more by surprise as he placed his chapped lips against yours, his tongue instantly slipping past your parted lips to delve deeper.
Fuck.
The first time you’ve actually felt something for someone this had to happen. The premonition played clearly behind your eyes as you felt Bakugou’s tongue mould against your own, a deep timber groan vibrating against your mouth as he lost himself in the kiss.
Of course, whatever higher power couldn’t just let you be happy for once, you had to see the fate in store for Bakugou Katsuki.
Pulling away from your lips as his tongue poked out to taste your lipgloss, the corner of his lips curled into a smug smirk as you stared up at him in complete horror. This wasn’t good—
You’d hoped that his death would be a peaceful one, dying a natural death surrounded by his loved ones at a ripe old age. But it was anything but, the terrifying vision now imprinted onto your memory. And you wished he never kissed you, not only so he wouldn’t die but so you wouldn’t have to see this vision every time you close your eyes.
With one kiss you’d sealed his fate.
“Fuck,” He mumbled, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath.
You’d convinced yourself that as long as you didn’t kiss him, it would be okay— but now you’d seen the future you knew nothing would be okay.
Humans are such selfish creatures.
“Yeah, fuck.” You groaned.
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astolary · 15 days
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APRIL SHOWERS BRING MAY FLOWERS .
( Synopsis ) ✿ freesia – going on a strawberry picking outing
( Author's Note ) @xianyoon has created a lovely event called when the spring light hits the field! Please check out her event >< Ying thank you so much again for letting me write with these prompts :D Up next, Neuvillette hehehe
( Pairings ) Diluc x GN! Spouse Reader
( Content Warnings ) Reader likes strawberries, reader is Diluc's spouse, set towards at least 7-10 years into the future?
( Word Count ) 1.0k+ words
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DILUC DESPISES THE MONTH OF APRIL. It does not bring back fond memories. If anything, it reminded him of the times when he was sheltered, naïveté, weak, foolish. How he failed to stand on his own two feet to protect his father; how he pushed everyone away from him; how he ruined everything around him like a corrupt flame choking nature into black ashes. 
It was hard for him to create relationships with others after that incident. And if something was hard for him outside of work-related matters, indulgence in desires was something he did not deserve. That is too selfish and self-centred for a man of his calibre.
Diluc had everything; the Dawn Winery, mora, a stable business, a loving father, and a reliable brother.  His future was all planned out for him. And everything collapsed because of a birthday wish.
Of course, fate had plans for him. Or was it chance? After all, April showers bring May flowers.
“Good morning, Master Diluc!”
“Master Diluc, good day.”
“Greetings, Master Diluc.”
“Good morning everyone.” Diluc greeted his staff.
Quick footsteps padded the floor. “Master Diluc, here’s your coat.” Moco diligently stood behind him, coat neatly hanging on her arm. “Are you going to pick the strawberries today with (Name)?”
“That’s right.” Diluc nodded. “Do you happen to know of my spouse’s whereabouts?”
Spouse. If you asked him a decade ago if he were ever to find a partner, he would have promptly dismissed the idea and made a mental note to close the tavern early to resume his evening duties.
“(Name) has already started harvesting the strawberries,” Moco informed him.
“I see, they must be in a rush.” Diluc mused. “Thank you, Moco.”
Tsk, cheater. Diluc brooded in the back of his mind.
Hastily, he walked down the cobblestone stairs, quickly spotting a head popping out in the strawberry farm
The post-winter breeze tousled his face like a bygone dream, greeting the animals from slumber; welcoming the birds from the 7 nations; and the plants full in flourish. Spring has come once again.
Which also meant…
“It’s time to harvest the strawberries.” Diluc voiced out loud. He watched your head snap up from the strawberries quickly, freezing like a deer in headlights. “I thought we said we would compete fairly this year.”
Preposterously, you mockingly stood up and pointed an accusing finger towards him. “I would have competed fairly if someone didn’t eat my basket of strawberries last year!” 
Clutching your strawberry basket tightly to your chest, you feigned offence. You marched towards him, holding your chin up high in defiance. “This year, I will win, and I will get to be the one to spoil you for a whole month!” You kicked his basket with your hip
“Really now?” He smirked. Diluc pinched your nose, watching you scrunch your face cutely. 
“Of course! In fact, I’ll harvest more strawberries than you ever had.” You announced, “I’m winning this year’s strawberry-picking competition!”
As if ignoring the fact that he has always helped in the seasonal fruit harvests since childhood— just like every other year, you deliberately testified your demise. “I’m sure you will.” Diluc replied.
“Just you wait,” You laughed. “Because I have a plan,”
It wasn’t a pretend cackle, your laugh was a joyous laugh, a tinkling melody that burst straight from your heart and enveloped the entire area. A laugh that showed that you were enjoying your time with Diluc over a competition on who could harvest the most strawberries. (Because you both knew it was out of character for Diluc to have fun over a competition.)
(Years ago, when you both carefully strengthened your relationship through time—Diluc did not spare time, but for you he was more willing to take care of himself. And trust—trusting himself was so much more harder than trusting you. Because how can you trust someone wholeheartedly when you can barely trust yourself?
“It’s alright if you don’t trust yourself,” You spoke to him under the orange tavern lights. “Most of the time, we barely trust ourselves to make decisions. But that’s why I’m here.” You smiled, the most beautiful smile he’s seen you show him. “I knew what I was getting into by being with you, and when you don’t trust yourself, I’ll trust you.”)
He’s so, so grateful for being you being in his life.
In a daze, Diluc stood still, holding his basket idly in his hand— soaking in your happiness. Your laugh made him so happy…
You were comfortable living in the manor, with him. You were comfortable laughing, with him. You pushed him to be the best he can be, not because he loves you, but because it’s something he must do to become a better person. To be more worthy to receive your love.
You’re so amazing…
A gust of wind passed by him. Diluc snapped out of his daze.
“But of course, you can’t win the strawberry picking competition if you don’t have your basket!” You yelled. Your legs burned as you ran as fast as possible away from him. (Maybe you’ll reconsider working out with him.)
Diluc chuckled. “Oh you sneaky…”
And Diluc ran after you— of course, while deliberating keeping his pace slow. Because, you know, you should really reconsider working out with him.
Diluc does not despise the month of April.
“Elzer.”
He looked up from the documents in his hand.
“Adeline?”
“Look.”
Adeline’s gaze was fixed on the window, fondness swirling in her eyes and an affectionate smile touching her lips.
Curiously, Elzer rose from his chair and took quick strides towards Adeline.
“Master Diluc is chasing (Name) around the vineyard.”
Chasing (Name) around the vineyard…? 
He shifted his gaze towards the window. Ah.
“If Master Diluc is fond of grapes, then (Name) is certainly fond of strawberries.” Adeline sighed wistfully.
“Doesn’t it bring back such fond memories?” 
Elzer rested his hip against the window ledge. “It does.” 
“Just like when Master Crepus and My Lady were younger.” Elzer sighed nostalgicly.
“Just like when Master Crepus and My Lady were younger.” Adeline agreed.
Ah, Master Crepsus would be so proud of the man you became, Master Diluc.
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astolary 2024 — do not edit, repost, or translate. © genshin impact official art © @/h-aewo dividers © @xianyoon : when the spring light hits the field event
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sundrop-writes · 7 months
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My Bleeding Heart
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Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader
Summary:
When Draco finds out that you are pregnant, he can't bring himself to be happy about the news because he doesn't want to bring a child into this wartorn world just to be another pawn in the Dark Lord's games. So, then and there, he makes a very important decision to risk everything in order to protect you and his future child.
Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader. Arranged Marriage. Angst (with a Fluffy Ending). Set during Deathly Hallows.
Word Count: 3,400
Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link
Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: the reader is pregnant in this fic; this is set during Deathly Hallows and there are a lot of themes from that era - death, blood purity ideals, general violence, murder, mentions of Draco being tasked with killing Dumbledore; Draco and the reader live in an environment where they fear for their lives because they don't believe in Death Eater values completely and fear being killed for it; Draco and the reader are in an arranged marriage meant to carry on blood purity - but they have fallen in love in the marriage; the reader is a pureblood, but I have not mentioned her being related to any canon characters, so her appearance/race is not defined; general emotional angst - Draco fears for his own life, your life, and the fate of your unborn child if they are born into pureblood society; in the first half, there is some arguing/tension between Draco and the reader (but it's mostly due to the emotional tension of their situation); mentions of Dumbledore's death; non detailed mentions of sex (that's how we got the baby, duh) (sadly no smut); passing mention of abortion/pregnancy termination (they both want the child but fear for the child's safety in this environment); semi-graphic mentions of consensually inflicted injuries - Draco gets the reader to cut off the skin with his Dark Mark on it so that he can't be tracked or summoned with it; these warnings make it seem like a really dark fic but the ending is really fluffy I promise; toward the end, the reader and Draco have a toddler who refers to them as 'Mummy' and 'Daddy', and I think that is about it.
Author's Notes: The prompt of 'character finds out you are pregnant' was originally from the fluff prompts list, but because this is Draco, I couldn't help but to throw some angst in here. Because I imagine that if Draco was still living with his parents and surrounded by Death Eaters and the blood purity ideals, he would be very hesitant to want a child of his own because he wouldn't want a child to be tainted by all of it the way that he had been. Because at a certain point, the pride he felt turned sour. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy because this does get fluffy toward the end.
...
Terror. 
That was the very first thing Draco could tangibly say that he was feeling. 
The last two years of his life had been a sickening rollercoaster of utter chaos, and quite frankly, he had become numb to it all. He had to force himself to be numb, otherwise he wouldn’t have survived. And currently, survival was his only feasible goal. But this - this news touching his ears was one thing that woke up his senses from that numbness and sent him rocketing into the harshness of reality. This made him feel again, in the worst ways. Suddenly he was nauseous, shaking, blood rocketing against his ear drums, creating a harsh thumping in seconds. 
He wished that he had heard you wrong. 
“Are - are you sure?” He stuttered out, feeling his hands becoming exceptionally clammy as he clutched them around nothing, his feet unsteady on the ground. 
You saw him becoming remarkably pale for someone who was already so papery toned on a normal day, and you worried that he was going to faint. You worried that his harsh reaction meant that he hated the idea of you being pregnant - that he was angry with you. Of course, you realised that the fault wasn’t all on you, that was just nature. But part of you thought that he put the onus on you to take care of birth control, using potions or spells, because he had been worried about so many other things since the start of your relationship. 
Up until now, you weren’t sure if you wanted what they wanted. You weren’t naive enough to look beyond the reason you had married Draco in the first place. You were there to produce the next pureblood heir with him. Originally, you had thought it was romantic, in a sense. But when you had met Draco’s family, the people he was surrounded with, the people who called themselves Death Eaters - you realised that it most certainly wasn’t an ideal environment to bring a child into. 
Killing at the drop of a hat, torturing, murdering the innocent - those weren’t ideals that you wanted your child to be brought up on. 
“Draco, sit down, please,” You put a hand on his shoulder, trying to usher him toward one of the expensive chairs sitting in the corner of his room. 
You had stolen him away for a rare moment of privacy between meetings and Death Eaters traipsing around the house. These days, his parents always demanded that the two of you make good on appearances because you were supposed to be the sweet young couple, the future of the pureblood line. 
“Are you sure?” He whispered the question much more harshly, the words hissed through his lips like pure venom as he desperately waited for you to confirm it. 
He let himself be guided by you and collapsed down into the chair, sitting with his head in his hands, ruffling up his usually neat, slicked-back hair with rough, stressful fingers through it. 
Your stomach twisted with your own unique stress as you watched him. You hadn’t seen him so distraught since his first failed attempt on the mission he had been given last year. 
“I’m sure.” You said. “I went to the apothecary and got one of the test potions-” 
“A store bought test potion?” Draco hissed. 
He gave you the harshest glare that you had ever seen from him, which was saying something considering the looks of pure disdain he had given you upon first meeting. His jaw was set so tightly that it looked as though his molars were going to crush in on themselves at any moment. 
Your posture shrunk back, desperately trying to hide from his invasive stare. You wished that you could have burrowed under the floorboards at that point. 
You knew that it was fear and panic about the situation at large, all the death you had been surrounded with compounding onto him. But you hated that he was inadvertently taking it out on you. 
After a moment of you not speaking, Draco continued. 
“I should have made it myself, if you had just told me-” 
“Yes, and nobody would have become suspicious if you were mulling around, gathering the ingredients for a pregnancy test potion.” You snapped back. 
Draco’s face grew even more sickly at this, and you knew that you were both silently on the same page - nobody else in the house could know that you were pregnant. If they even suspected it, then it was over. 
He heaved a sigh, gathering all of his thoughts before he chose one to bring to open air. 
“Were you seen?” He asked, still tearing into you indignantly, talking to you as though you were stupid. 
“No.” You told him, entirely certain. “I wore a large cloak with a hood, it was dark. Nobody recognized me.” 
He gave you a distinct frown that said he was unsure of the truth in your words, and you rushed to trample over his potential sarcastic remark with your own. 
“I suppose they don’t recognize me when I’m not on your arm, anyway.” 
You scoffed out the last part, talking about this fact with distaste even though in actuality it was something you loved. You felt safe when you were with Draco. You couldn’t imagine facing the scowling faces without his arm around you. 
But you knew that’s all you were in this society - Draco’s wife. That’s all you had been labelled as since you had been shipped over from America by your godmother. 
You were the last of your noble pureblood family’s line. Your parents had been killed by Aurors in the name of Voldemort’s cause during the first war. After their deaths, you had been sent to live with your godmother in America, never truly understanding how your parents were killed or why.
The whole reason you had met Draco in the first place - an arranged marriage. Something that would have honoured your parents, apparently. 
The Malfoys had been looking for a pureblood match around Draco’s age, and they had once known your parents, and thought of you as a good prestigious pureblood girl to marry their son. It didn’t take them long to find you, even though you didn’t mingle in pureblood society like they did. (Something they found to be a big shame and a horror upon your parents’ memory.) 
Your godmother sold you out for a ‘dowry’ of two thousand Galleons, and from there, your life became a living hell. 
Strangely enough, Draco had been the one anchor keeping you alive in it. 
Most would say that it was because he was kind by comparison, but truly - he was easy to fall in love with when he was compassionate, sweet, loving in the smallest ways that made you feel safe during some of the most hectic times of your life. 
Draco had never intended to get attached to you. 
But like anything in his life - pining for the crumbs of his father’s approval, digging under all the proprietary for a single genuine gesture of affection from his mother - Draco’s heart kept beating as much as he tried to turn it off. He convinced himself that he was solid stone, but apparently, you were the pickaxe that made him crumble to pieces. After meeting him, you burrowed through the layers of snide coldness and dark humour that he used in an effort to put you off and you found that still beating heart. That soft thing that he hated so much about himself. 
You dug that heart out of his chest, and - despite his best efforts to fight you off, you nursed that heart back to health. And you gave him the closest thing he had experienced to ‘love’ in years. 
On the day the two of you got married, when Dumbledore’s dead body was barely cold, Draco said his vows to you with nothing but honesty in his heart. And that night, he made love to you with intense passion, held you in his arms as though you might slip away if he didn’t grip onto you tight enough. And only after you had fallen asleep in his arms, was when he allowed himself to cry. Because he knew that they now had one more way to make him hurt if they wanted to. They could kill him, they could stop the breath in his lungs, but he would die a million deaths through you being hurt in the smallest of ways before that happened. 
And now - with this utterly horrifying revelation, they had new ways to hurt him. He should have died a lone man. He should have let them kill him instead of agreeing to any of this in the first place. He shouldn’t have learned to love - he shouldn’t have grown these new limbs that they could cut off savagely and tear apart in front of him. 
“I got another one.” You announced when the room had grown too quiet, silent tears streaming down Draco’s face as he sat in intense contemplation. “Another test potion. An extra. I figured you’d want to see it with your own eyes.” 
Even though the two of you had only met two short years ago - you knew him too well. You knew that he would want visual confirmation before his own eyes. 
“Get it. Please.” He said, trying his best not to let his throat drown in these tears. He wouldn’t be reduced to sobbing. 
You went to your cloak, which was hung on a hook in an opposite corner of the room, and grabbed the potion vial out of your pocket. Your shoes clacking against the floor made a terribly hollow soundtrack to the whole thing as you ripped off the small tag that was tied to the neck of the potion bottle and handed it to Draco. He read the instructions on it while you uncorked the potion. 
It was simple: you put some sample of your DNA in the bottle - a hair, a small bit of blood, something like that. And then if the potion changed colours to glow white, it meant that you were pregnant. If it made no change from its original, soupy grey colour - then you weren’t pregnant. 
He watched, holding his breath as you plucked a single hair from your head and then dropped it into the now open top of the bottle. When the hair made contact with the liquid, it bubbled slightly as it dissolved. Then - after only a moment, the bottle began to shake roughly in your hand as it changed colour, and surely enough - it glowed brightly white. 
You were definitely pregnant. 
Draco’s nausea increased. And then - in a moment, he felt a fierce sense of protectiveness wash over him. It was as though he had been slapped sharply across the face, woken up from the blind numbness he had been feeling. He knew at that moment that he needed to take action. He couldn’t simply stand by and let things happen around him anymore. He could simply sit around hoping for safety, hoping for some miracle to save the two of you. 
“Happy?” You scoffed. 
You took Draco’s lack of words as a negative - a sign that he was certainly unhappy with the news. 
Not that you were entirely thrilled under the present circumstances - you were scared, stressed, and hating it because you had always wanted children, but not like this. 
You placed the potion down on the nearest table and stormed off to the bathroom attached to Draco’s bedroom. He chased you, catching the door before you could slam it closed and lock it. 
You conceded to his movements quickly and simply turned to face the sink, unable to look at him right now. You turned it on, splashing cold water on your face, trying your best not to freak out because clearly he was already playing that role. He walked up behind you, gently pressing his body into yours. Even under these circumstances, you found his presence so comforting. You found his body behind you to be nothing but a wall of safety, and you couldn’t help but to lean back into him, your eyes still tightly closed. 
Draco reached around you and gently pressed his hand into your stomach - you held back tears of your own now. Clearly, you were both thinking the same thing. Thinking of the unborn child that you both needed to protect. You placed your hand over his, seeking comfort in his touch as he flattened a palm across your stomach. 
It was a world shattering revelation to know that his child was resting under his hand. 
“No one can find out about this.” He muttered quietly into your neck. 
It was something Draco dreaded - them finding out about your pregnancy. 
This is what they had been waiting for. This was the reason for the marriage in the first place. This was the pureblood heir - this was their chess piece. 
Draco wouldn’t let his child become another pawn in their games. 
“It’s still early.” You choked out quietly. “There are other potions. We could-” You choked on your own words, unable to even speak it aloud. 
Draco dug his fingers into the fabric of your shirt protectively, quite insulted at the insinuation. 
“No.” He replied, his voice rough with anger. “Unless the idea of being pregnant with my child is so utterly horrible to you-” 
“It’s not that!” 
You screeched, forcefully turning in his arms, wanting to face him. He kept one hand on your hip, and moved the other up to gently grasp your cheek, thumbing away your tears as they gathered. It was that gentleness that always got you. His natural instinct to comfort you.You leaned into his touches as you continued. 
“I want this baby more than anything. I - I’m just terrified they’ll see that as a weakness.” 
You knew it was the truth. Especially when Draco’s sullen face confirmed it. In this circle, loving anything or anyone was a weakness that could be exploited. 
Draco leaned in and kissed your forehead. You closed your eyes, letting the single, solitary moment of peace wash over you. 
“I’ll protect you.” He declared, his voice whisper-quiet, but nearly broken with the intensity of his words. “Both of you.” He added this on as he brushed his palm over your stomach once again. 
Again, you laid your hand over his, uttering quiet assurances of love toward your unborn child. 
“Draco, how-?” 
He didn’t let you finish the question. 
“We’ll leave. We’re leaving. Tonight.” He declared firmly. 
It was something you had suggested before - to protests from Draco, many scathing comments poking holes in your plans. His parents would be killed if he left. At this point, he had to surrender to the idea that they could take care of themselves - that they had made their bed and they had to lie in it. But now that he had the Dark Mark, they would be able to find him, wherever he went. But he would find some harsh way around that. 
Now that he had so much more at stake, he couldn’t care if his parents died because of his actions. He had so much more that he had to protect. 
“I’ll cut off my bloody arm if I have to.” Draco mumbled quietly, and then turned sharply from the bathroom, leaving to pack. 
… 
“Daddy, Mummy’s not being fair! She won’t let me play with the jellyfish!” 
“Draco, can you please explain to your daughter that jellyfish are dangerous and she can’t play with them?” You replied, trying your best to haul your toddler away from the rough rocks at the water’s edge where the creature had washed up. 
“Love, why don’t you come and play with your toys over here?” Draco posed, trying to draw her attention toward something else. She was much like himself as a child - determined, stubborn, and wouldn’t do anything unless she believed it was her own idea first. “Come and show Daddy how to build a sand castle, hmm?” 
She seemed to perk up at this. She was clever, and over-eager to show off her skills. More than eager to show her father how to do something properly if she felt that he wasn’t doing it right. This happened with everything from the way he spread marmalade on his toast to the way he tied his shoes - something she had just learned how to do that she was eager to show off her expertise in.
As she tore out of your arms and trudged across the beach to scoop some sand into her bucket, Draco had to be thankful as he watched you follow slowly behind. Purely thankful of the fact that the biggest danger your daughter had to worry about was something like a stray jellyfish washed up on shore. 
Three years after escaping a life of servitude toward the Dark Lord in England, you and Draco enjoyed a quiet life with your daughter Aster in France. 
You sat down beside Draco with a huff, picking up the book you had previously been reading. You flashed him a grateful smile as he listened to Aster’s detailed instructions about how they should build their castle. He gave you a wide grin in return, and you felt your insides tingle. His smile used to be something as rare as a Basilisk, but now he wore it proudly and more often - he wore his happiness without restraint. 
With the short-sleeved, light linen shirt that he had on for the beach, the scar on his forearm was fully visible. It reminded you of the brave choices he had made on that night three years ago. 
You had convinced Draco not to cut off his arm completely, but the two of you knew that the Dark Mark needed to go. Otherwise, the two of you could never run far enough, you would have nowhere to hide. So now he sported a large scar where you had held him down and cut the skin off with a sharp knife. That night, his parents had found his room empty, save for the flap cut-off skin in the middle of his bloody bedroom floor. Luckily, you had a talent for healing spells and Draco had been able to knick a few good potions from his family’s cupboards before the two of you left. 
On the outside, it was jagged and ugly. But when he looked at it, it reminded him of nothing but freedom - of the love you had committed to him that day, to your unborn daughter. 
With a couple thousand Galleons in gold taken from his parents’ stash, the two of you started a new life. You were untraceable and happy. And though there was intense relief when you read in the papers that Potter had succeeded in defeating the Dark Lord and that meant the war was over - the two of you didn’t have any plans to go back to England anytime soon. 
Not when your new life was this good. 
“-and see, you need to dig down until you find the sand that’s wet, that makes a good castle-” Aster drawled on, piercing her toy shovel into the ground frantically as she spoke. 
Draco nodded, giving her a smile as he followed her instructions. “Yes, yes. I see. Very smart girl.” 
He had gotten the two of you away from that life, and not for a moment had your daughter ever known the kind of pain or fear that you had. 
“Daddy’s learning a lot today, isn’t he?” You remarked, giving Draco a sly grin. 
“Good thing I’ve got this smart girl here to teach me,” He said, leaning over and giving Aster a kiss on the forehead. 
That was another thing that made you fall even deeper in love with him - the droves of affection he gave to his daughter. Now that he wasn’t being watched so closely, now that he wasn’t expected to be the picture perfect son, he could love her exactly how he wanted to. He didn’t have to worry about propriety or appearing weak. 
Aster giggled at this, and Draco blew raspberries on her cheek before kissing her again. She then rallied Draco up to go to the shoreline for a bucket of water. As you watched them walk hand in hand, you felt your heart ache from how overwhelmingly full of love you were. 
Somehow, you found yourself endlessly thankful for the rocky road of fate that had brought you here.
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lady-ashfade · 1 month
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I thought It Was Normal
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Percy Jackson character x male!reader (gods x reader) (platonic all)
╰・゚✧☽ reader: like klaus from TUA. reader is a little oc in this, but i couldn’t help it. I needed this because I got a funny idea.
╰・゚✧☽ warnings: short , me having little knowledge of what’s to come in the books, not canon just a silly idea
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Camp got new campers every year so it wasn’t like they thought anything of you. The only thing is, you looked too confused to be there, everything Chiron said you would would give him the strangest look. Percy happened to be passing by, you got a tour of camp just like he did. And you were a bit to loud with your words- and let’s face it. He’s a little nosy.
“So you’re saying all the gods just drop their kids off here- or, don’t give them attention until they do something they deem worthy?” You ask like you had no care.
“Really a great idea. Half gods with daddy and mommy issues running around in the same place. Doesn’t sound dangerous at all.” You comment and continued walking with a eye roll.
Percy was interested in you right after that. You made him laugh and shared his views when he first came here, and he still thought them. He didn’t have to wait long to introduce himself since you left Hermes cabin in a rush to get away from people.
You didn’t want to talk to him at first. He tried to introduce himself but you brushed him off and said you weren’t willing to speak.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, but I’m sure you’re parent will claim you.”
You stopped in your tracks and turn around and started to flail your arms. “I am human! I have no godly parent, not like you-. Honestly I wish I was because I would be less concerned about my future.”
“That’s new.” A girl’s voice popped up from behind you and out of no where. A girl with a cap in her hands yanked down from her head, she looked intimidating to you.
“Can you all do that? Just appear out of no where?” You asked slightly scared but amazed.
“Let’s go back to the part where you’re human,” Percy stepped forward like you were a bomb of some sort ready to explode. “Why are you here?” You scuffed and shrugged your shoulders.
“So, i happened to eat a crystal I found in the woods behind my house. It was weird and it had me hypnotized, surprised I didn’t break any teeth, and the next minute I know I’m seeing the dead. And these voices are talking to me, then I’m moved off to this camp.”
“Wait the dead?”
“The gods say I need training before I came to them. Which is weird because you think they would train me themselves…do you guys know what I should do? I have no clue why they want me.” You look at both of them for help but Percy is just staring with his mouth open and shocked. Annabeth looks annoyed and looking you up and down.
“Don’t piss them off.”  she was going to be great help.
Months go by and you grow closer to the trio. it was strange how you seemed to have more strength then a human, and could kept up in training with them. not once did you ever get claimed and it still surprised them to this day how you just become something out of the blue. They tried so hard to get their parents attention but you just- stumped upon something and had the gods interests?
yes, you were human. but no longer a human boy, but a god in training.
“did it have to be him? he’s more chaotic then your son Poseidon.” zues rubbed his temple as the gods watch down on you.
“fate is a funny thing brother.“
“I for one love the kid.” ares smirks as you trip percy and let out a vicious scream. nothing evil or mean behind it, just a adrenaline rush. but ares didn’t take it that why, you were going to be a monster.
“I’ll bless him soon, he should stay in my cabin.” Aphrodite smiles and played with her hair. 
“We all know he’s basically my child, the dead thing? Yeah, he’ll be staying with me in the underworld when it’s time.” Hades smirks at all of them.
and just like that the gods are starting a war all over again.
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Reader: stumbles upon a crystal
the voices: eat me!!
Reader: No!! Let me go!!
Reader then becomes a god.
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pinkinku · 1 month
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He's Psychotic | Feyd-Rautha
fandom: Dune: Part Two (2024)
pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x irulan corrino
description: He’s psychotic, Irulan was sure of it. And she was about to marry him.
word count: 4k
warnings!: smut, wedding night, loss of virginity, rough sex, knifeplay 🔪, bloodplay🩸, where's my wife?, who did this to you?, concubines, blood and injury, praise kink, marriage.
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He was psychotic, Irulan was sure of it. An animal, a beast, a sort of soulless creature no living woman could bear to stand.
And Irulan was about to marry him.
This wasn’t the plan, of course. She was supposed to marry Paul Atreides, Duke of Arrakis, but fate had different plans. Her fate took an unexpected turn the moment Paul’s lifeless body fell to the floor, with his enemy’s blade deep in his guts. In that moment, Feyd-Rotha’s black eyes bore into her and the smile of his was just as black.
Her father said, “You’ve won. What would you like in return for this victory?”
She shuddered, unable to take her eyes off the man before her as he walked back to Paul’s body, ripped out the blade from it and pointed the sharp tip towards her, the blood still dripping from it—drip, drip, drip.
“Had the Duke won, he would’ve gotten the princess. Now, as the victor, I have the right to her. I want your daughter.”
Her father didn’t oppose. Perhaps he wanted to but had nothing else to offer. Alas, Irulan was the thing he could give, in his mind, he had already given her up to Paul Atreides.
And so, three days later, she was dressed in traditional bridal garments: the ivory dress of the finest silk, a modest scoop neckline adorned with beading, with long fitted sleeves cascading down her arms with sheer panels, the skirt flowing out from the waist in a graceful line. To finish off, she wore a dramatic veil that framed her entire form and was held up by an ornate headpiece.
She was to be sacrificed to a demon.
Irulan walked down the isle, surrounded by a flood of the same harkonnean faces, all of them bald and pale and muscular, neither of them familiar, only one, at the very end, waiting for her, watching her every step, even the slightest movement of flesh underneath her garments – Feyd-Rautha’s eyes on her were like a hawk’s. She shuddered.
The road to her future husband in this hall at Giedi Prime. She walked, and walked, alone and exposed, and it seemed that the distance between him and her remained the same. But no, she was getting closer, because now she could see him better. His robes were of tight shiny leather with silver lining, they clung to his body like a glove. He stood tall and regal, a neutral expression on his face. Except for his eyes, of course. He held his hands in front of himself as if he was imprisoning his own body in one spot, as if he was trying to stop himself from eating away at the distance between them himself, as if he had to keep his hands from reaching out for her.
Irulan finally stood in front of him and, while the Reverend Mother spoke words of matrimony she couldn’t understand (she could understand the language, undoubtedly, only in that moment she wasn’t capable of understanding the meaning behind them), she watched Feyd-Rautha in all his glory. His dark gaze demanded attention. The only comfort was the veil that covered her face from him.
Sometime in the middle of the ceremony, Irulan heard a strange hissing sound. She turned her head very slightly to see three women standing behind her soon-to-be husband. All three of them looked the same—bald heads, black eyes, blackened teeth and pure hatred, addressed to her—different only in height. It took a few moments for Irulan’s frightened mind to realize that these were Feyd-Rautha’s concubines who were hissing at her. No one else, besides Irulan, paid them any attention, so she learned to ignore the hissing too.
However, Irulan was so focused on the concubines, she didn’t understand that the Reverend Mother spoke the last words of the matrimonial ceremony until Feyd-Rautha lifted his hands and unveiled her. She flinched, caught off guard, feeling small and vulnerable before him. His face moved closer to hers very slowly, as if he didn’t want to frighten her. The initial moment of his kiss felt like a butterfly’s touch to her lips—soft, tender, barely there. When her mouth opened to him in surprise, he explored it with his tongue, and the kiss soon turned passionate, wild all-consuming. It lasted far longer than a dutiful wedding kiss should’ve lasted and it left Irulan breathless once it ended.
She stared at his lips, now red from the kiss, even more so in contrast with his paper-white skin. His breathing was just as heavy as hers, their chests heaving in tandem, but he soon regained his wits, reaching out his hand for her, which she wasn’t cautious enough not to take.
He started walking her out of the hall and down the dark empty corridors, leaving the Harkonnens and the rest of Giedi Prime behind them. He led her to a spacious minimally furnished room but she could tell every single item there must’ve cost a fortune.
Feyd-Rautha let go of her hand only when she was standing in front of a canopy bed. Then he disappeared from her sight, and she was too nervous to turn around. He’s psychotic, she had to remind herself. One wrong move and he might attack like an animal.
She felt her headpiece being lifted from her head together with the veil. She saw his pale hands put it aside carefully. She turned her head slightly only to see he had taken off his top garments, and she saw his naked chest, tattooed with thick black lines. He watched her face as she peered into his nether region, then grabbed her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him.
“Are you scared of me, princess?” he asked.
Irulan looked into his eyes, searching for madness there, or for empathy. She found neither.
Swallowing thickly, she held his gaze.
“No.”
She couldn’t let him know how frightened she truly was.
Feyd-Rautha’s and moved to the back of his bottoms and he took out a knife, ornate and beautiful, like a piece of art. Irulan’s eyes widened in fear, her body shivered violently outside of her control. Her reaction put a smile on his face. As Feyd-Rautha moved his knife to the fabric of her dress, she closed her eyes, daring herself to get through whatever pain he was about to inflict on her. Most importantly, she couldn’t show panic.
She scrunched her nose, waiting to get stabbed, waiting for the blade to pierce her skin, then dig into her flesh, she waited for him to draw her blood, make her scream—until she heard fabric ripping in half. Irulan opened her eyes, drawing in a lungful of air like a man lost in dessert, breathing in oxygen for the first time. she felt the dress fall of her body before she saw her own nakedness, blushing from shame. She noticed Feyd-Rautha’s eyes on her even if she didn’t see him, she felt his hot breath on her exposed skin. Her nerves were akin to violin strings—tout and resonant—as he stood behind her like a looming threat.
As Irulan tried to calm her respiration, Feyd-Rautha’s fingers dug into her scalp, kneading at her hair and messing up the fancy braids that formed a bun, until her hair was freed, falling down her back in waves. She felt his fingers brush through her locks—once, twice—and then, to Irulan’s grave horror, he brought the knife to her neck, his other arm holding her down by her waist, pulling her bottom into his groin. She gasped at the cold sharp blade on her delicate skin there.
“Still not scared, princess?” he spoke lavishly into her ear.
This was a trick. He wanted a reaction out of her. But he wasn’t going to truly hurt her, otherwise he would’ve done so already. She wouldn’t let him trick her.
“No,” she repeated, although a slight tremor in her voice betrayed the truth.
He pulled the blade away from her, grabbing her by the throat with his other hand. His lips touched her jaw tenderly and she closed her eyes at the feeling.
“Good girl,” he whispered.
His hands guided her to get on the bed, slowly and barely pushing her as she complied. She lied on the bed on her back, feeling her hair fall around her like the sun. Feyd-Rautha’s widened eyes roamed over her body possessively, taking their time to appreciate the curve of her neck, her shoulders, her round breasts, her flat belly, until they landed on her apex. His gaze was hungry, wild, untamed, which she took as a compliment.
Still holding the knife in one hand, he unbuttoned his bottoms with the other and took them off. His cock caught Irulan’s attention immediately—long, thick, and veiny, monstrous just like its’ owner. Seeing where her gaze had landed, Feyd-Rautha smirked, kneeling on the bed as she moved away to give him space, but he grabbed her thighs, pulling her close. He spread her thighs, putting her ankles onto his shoulders, his black gaze boring into her sex. His lips parted as if he was trying to imagine how she would taste down there.
Irulan was hot, so very hot, and the way he stared at her, the way he handled her body was of no help at all.
It was the moment his fingers touched her burning center that she realized how sensitive and wet she truly was. Feyd-Rautha hissed, realizing that very same thing. He began playing with her flesh as if he was a boy with a toy, and she heart the sounds of her own sex dripping and parting for him whichever way he wished.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, making her even wetter. This was affecting him too, it appeared—his cock was so hard and aching it was slowly turning red.
But of course, he couldn’t leave his knife behind. As he brought the knife closer to her core, Irulan panicked, kicking at him and trying to get away, but his grip on her thigh was like vice, she couldn’t move.
“Shhh,” he said, caressing her thigh. “There’ll be nothing but pleasure, wife.”
Irulan was certain that his definition of pleasure differed from hers, so she kept squirming. Only slightly annoyed, Feyd-Rautha gripped his knife tightly by the blade and pushed the handle past her nether lips.
Irulan released a prolonged moan when his thumb found her clitoris and began rubbing circles while simulteneously thrusting the handle of his knife in and out of her.
“That’s it, wife,” he groaned, watching the way her face furrowed in pleasure. “Take my knife like a good girl.”
And she did. His moves grew aggressive, but even the sight of his blood as the sharp blade tore the skin of his palm where he gripped it did not deter her—she was too focused moving her hips in tandem with his thrusts, chasing her pleasure.
Only when she was at the precipice of her own release did he stop abruptly, pulling out the knife out of her and throwing it on the ground. Irulan was irrationally angry and disappointed, but that feeling soon ceased as Feyd-Rautha fondled her body, mostly her breasts and bottom, with his hands, leaving a bloody trail wherever he touched her.
Once finished, he began stroking his now-turned-blue cock, watching her soiled body as a mesmerizing painting. He then lined the head of his cock with her entrance and she tensed without meaning to. He put only the tip in, but Irulan tensed furthermore. He towered over her with his entire body, but not threateningly, it was more like a promise to keep her safe. Feyd-Rautha caressed her cheek, pushing in more, and she hissed from the pain that not even his tender movements helped soothe.
He was patient with her that night, but he wasn’t that patient, so after a few minutes of trying to slowly push into her, Feyd-Rautha thrust all of himself into her while kissing her at the same time, catching the pained scream that tore out of her with his mouth. He kept kissing her and moving inside of her until he was sure she wasn’t going to scream and that the pain eased a little. He pulled away slightly just to watch her breasts move at the rhythm his hips had set.
“Such a good wife I have,” he praised. “Taking me so well.” Irulan whimpered when the pain in her lower abdomen was slowly replaced with pleasure. “That’s it,” he said, moving his face closer to hers. “I want you to look at me as you come on my cock, princess.”
She did.
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Irulan woke up. Her body ached and she felt disoriented, reaching out for the warm body that kept her close the whole night. She found the other side of the bed empty.
She washed off the blood from her thighs—her blood—and his blood from all the other places. It was foolish of her to expect Feyd-Rautha to stay until morning as a loving husband, but the abandonment still hurt.
She found a dress to put on and then sat down to brush her hair when a knock came.
“Princess Irulan, na-Baron is calling for you,” a servant said.
“Tell him I’m preoccupied with something.”
“I’m afraid this isn’t an offer, princess.”
And so, two minutes later, she was following the servant down the clinically sterile yet dark corridors, until he led her to a door, saying, “Na-Baron is already waiting for her.”
Na-Baron was actually not waiting for her at all, if his physical state was any sign of that. When Irulan got into the room, she found Feyd-Rautha in no need of any more attentions from another woman. He lied sprawled on a divan while his three concubines attended to his needs: two of them were sucking on his cock as if it were a candy while the third one kissed, but and nibbled on the skin of his chest, neck and shoulders. However, his cock, no matter what they did, remained flaccid.
Irulan reddened at the sight but more than anything she was furious. She would’ve turned on her heel and left right then, if Feyd-Rautha hadn’t already caught her with his eyes.
“There you are, wife,” he spoke to her. “After the magical night I spent with you, my concubines seem to be unable to satisfy me properly. I thought it would help the mattes at hand if you joined them. So, princess, care to join?” he motioned at the tow women sucking his cock. None of the three of them paid her any mind but she felt wrath emanating from them all the same.
Irulan didn’t move a single muscle. “I am your wife, not one of your whores, Feyd-Rautha,” she said coldly and tightly.
Feyd-Rautha merely chuckled at her defiance. She stayed in place like a tree grown into the ground, undeterred by his charming laughter.
“Of course not,” he said, still smiling. Then, in a voice that was firm and commanding, “All of you, leave.”
 The concubines obeyed immediately, pulling away from him. The one who had his cock in her mouth took it out with a loud pop. They hissed as they passed her, and Irulan waited from them to leave from out the door, not foolish enough to have her back to them. But, just as she was about to leave, she heard, “Not you, wife. They are only pets. You are not one of them.”
Irulan turned back to him, regaining her composure.
He smirked at her. She noticed his cock was beginning to harden.
He beckoned her closer, “Come.”
She took slow steps toward him as he watched her every move with unblinking eyes. Irulan came to stand in front of him, raising her chin. “What do you want from me, Feyd-Rautha?” she demanded.
His grin only widened. “I want you to satisfy your husband. You didn’t like seeing me with my concubines? Then you do the job. Let me have all of you. Let me ruin you.”
Irulan stared down at him, seemingly unaffected by his words, although her insides were burning. However, he seemed to be seeing right through her. Neither of them said another word, both staring at one another, waiting for who will star first.
Irulan couldn’t handle it any longer, not when his cock was now as hard as ever and her own arousal was practically running down her inner thighs.
She leaned down and lifted her skirt just enough so she could straddle him. She didn’t sit on top of his cock, only the outside of their nether regions was touching. As she wore no undergarments, she could feel that his flesh was hotter than hers, almost feverish.
The smile disappeared from Feyd-Rautha’s face, giving space for a deeply focused expression. She moved her hips to tease his swollen cock and he hissed from the stimulation, grabbing her hips instinctively and hoisted your skirt enough to have her bared for his eyes only.
“Don’t tease me, princess,” he groaned. That was enough for Irulan. She lifted her hips and sank down onto him, eliciting a prolonged moan from the both of them. She was still sore and he was huge, but she soon found a comfortable rhythm that brought waves of pleasure to her core. Feyd-Rautha watched her intensely with his black eyes, but when your thighs began to give out and the strain on your muscles seemed like too much, he took over, thrusting into her from below, grabbing her by the back of her neck to bring her lips to his. He kissed her like a starved man, all the while untwining the braid she had quickly put together before running off to him. When her hair was freed, he sunk his fingers into it—she remembered him giving special attention to her hair last night too. It must’ve been one of the things his concubines couldn’t give him.
Whereas Irulan’s moves were slow and sensual, Feyd-Rautha set a vicious pace, one she couldn’t catch up with, so she let him grab her arms by the wrists and pull them behind her, taking full control of her entire body. She moaned and mewled on top of him, her breathing growing labored. She was on the edge of her climax, but stopped herself from coming, watching as Feyd-Rautha’s expression grew violent as he neared his own end. And just as he was about to come, she told him, “You won’t lie with your concubines anymore. They won’t entertain you and you won’t give them special treatment. If you want release, you will come to me and me only, is that clear, Feyd-Rautha?”
His face twisted from pleasure and Irulan leaned in closer, touching his forehead with her own as he thrust into her the last few times.
“Yes, yes, anything you want, my wife…” he answered breathlessly.
Satisfied with her work yet careful not to show him, Irulan pulled away from him and his cock, standing back up and fixing her skirt. Feyd-Rautha, still heaving, reached out his head as if to touch the fabric of her dress or the ends of her hair, but she had already found her way to the door, leaving him all alone.
As she walked down the dark corridors, Irulan was lost in thoughts of the scene that just passed between them, and so she didn’t notice someone lurking for her in the shadows. Three figures then stood in her way, and even though it was dark, the three concubines of Feyd-Rautha were hard to miss. They were hissing at her, fury evident in their abnormal features as they lunged at her, baring their black teeth. Before Irulan managed to scream or shout for help, one of them forced her mouth shut with her hand, the other grabbed her by the hair and held her hands down, and the third gripped her right hadn’t, exposing her forehearm. Irulan saw the sharp silver blade glinting in the low light. Her eyes widened and she squirmed, trying to free herself, but to no avail.
The concubine brought the blade to Irulan’s veins and spat in her face, “Na-Baron is ours,” before slicing her flesh.
Unimaginable pain reddened Irulans’s vision. She screamed and thrashed until all strength abandoned her, and, sensing that, the concubines released her, letting her fall to the ground. When her head hit the ground, Irulan was drowned in darkness.
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Irulan regained consciousness in an unfamiliar room with an never-before-seen face in front her and a dull ache in her arm.
She blinked awake and tried to sit up in bed, but the man before her held her down softly. “Easy, princess. You’re very hurt.”
Irulan then noticed that the man was slicing a needle through her already mutilated flesh. The white thread that sealed her wound contrasted with the red-brown blood. She was sleepy and her mind was working very slowly, but all sleepiness evaded her once she heard a voice outside the room shout, “Where’s my wife!”
No one was there to answer Feyd-Rautha’s command, and they needn’t be—a moment later, he burst through the door like a sandstorm.
His eyes found her lying form immediately as he strode forward until he was right beside her. There was no smile on his face, nothing but ferocious outrage. His black gaze eyed the wound in her arm.
“Who did this to you?” he demanded, his voice low with rage.
She scoffed. “I won’t tell you. I don’t have a death wish.”
“Who,” he repeated.
Irulan narrowed her eyes at him. “They must have been listening behind the door as we… spoke.”
That was enough for him. After another moment of intense eyeing, Feyd-Rautha turned around and left. No sooner had the man that must’ve been her healer finished stitching up her wound that her husband was back.
“Come with me,” he said, reaching out his hand for her to take. “It won’t be far.”
She took it, despite how tired she felt.
Feyd-Rautha led her to a room with black walls and floor, and she noticed the three women lined up with their heads bowed low, their white skin glinting in the black darkness like fog. He made Irulan stand in front of them as he took his knife from the table besides and then came back to her.
“Which one of them hurt you?” he asked.
Irulan swallowed. “If I tell you, next time they will surely kill me.”
Without taking his eyes off her, without even moving—Irulan only saw his right hand slice the air swiftly—but it didn’t slice air, it slid the first concubine’s throat. Blood poured from the wound as the woman grasped at her throat in panic, trying to desperately stop the bleeding. She fell to the ground with a thud—the same way Irulan had mere hours ago.
“Was it this one?” Feyd-Rautha asked, never letting his eyes leave her.
Irulan shook her head. “She held my mouth shut.”
The other two bowed their heads even lower, visibly shivering.
The fury that overcame him was more visible by the way his muscles twitched under his skin. The second kill was just as smooth and barely visible, the same scenario repeating itself—Feyd-Rautha sliced the throat of the concubine and she fell dead.
“This one?”
“She grabbed me by my hair,” Irulan said.
He took a step toward the last of his pets, not sparing her a single glance, and the woman fell to her knees before him, “Na-Baron, I did nothing wrong, I’m begging you, she’s lying!”
Feyd-Rautha looked down at his concubine with nothing but wrath in his eyes. Then looked back up at Irulan.
“Did this one draw your blood?”
She swallowed, then nodded, watching with wide eyes as Feyd-Rautha’s blade sank into the left eye of the concubine. She screamed as blood poured from it, trying to stop the flow just like the other two before her. He pulled the blade out and repeated the process on the other eye. Then, more driven by a wish to end this as soon as possible rather than a sentimental feeling of mercy, he slit her throat, ending the third life.
Irulan watched in awe at the three bodies at her feet but Feyd-Rautha’s presence was the only one that demanded attention.
She looked up at him. He stepped closer, taking her face in his palm while the other hand held the bloody knife.
“I promised you, wife,” he said. “Anything you want.”
THE END
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