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kasagia · 20 days

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Right hand II

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: After you miraculously escaped from his arms the other night, you tried to stay away from him as best as you could. You have to put a lot of effort into escaping from the na-baron, who is tirelessly and constantly chasing you, or into avoiding another invitation to his chambers late at night. However, on Arrakis, the situation between you changes drastically... And you're losing control over your life, and it's not because of Feyd. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

You are standing in front of the window of the ship that is taking you to Arrakis. You nervously play with the edge of the shawl that covers your head. You don't have good memories of that planet. Before you escaped with Feyd, the Bene Gesserit sent several of their young apprentices to… train in the sands of Dune. Including you.

You still remember the screams of some of your companions who went crazy from a lack of water and decided to end their lives. And sometimes at night you dream that the sandworm swallows half of your group, leaving you practically on your own.

Arrakis didn't just kill your friends. It killed any belief in the Bene Gesserit in you, only confirming that you would rather die than be completely subject to them.

And now you're going back there with someone who had full control over your life again. It's funny how history likes to come full circle. And how, despite their repetition, people still fall for tricks and fall into fate's traps, acting in exactly the same way.

A cold hand on your bare shoulder snaps you out of your stupor. You act fully automatically,drawing the dagger attached to your belt and twisting the attacker's arm. You pin him to the wall, placing the blade against his pale neck. You freeze as your eyes meet Feyd's icy blue gaze.

"Good reflex. If you were anyone else, I'd kill you for this, but I'm in a particularly good mood today, so I won't punish you as I would like. What were you thinking about, my little witch, that you didn't hear me sneaking up on you? Or maybe I have finally surpassed the master?" He asks with a mocking smirk, showing off his black teeth. You snort, shaking your head at him.

"Keep dreaming." You say, taking advantage of his amusement. This time, you are not keeping your mouth shut for fear that he will deprive you of your tongue for your boldness towards him. You move away from him, which he takes with clear displeasure, and return to your place by the window.

"If I dream about you, I prefer to dream about something much more pleasant." He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He slides your shawl off your head with his teeth and nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent.

You feel him sigh deeply, leaning against you a little as he relaxes into your scent and closeness. You frown, but let him hold you because you feel calmer having him close to you. Despite everything that had happened in the past two weeks, you still found his presence reassuring. It didn't make any sense to you, but apparently, over the years, you had begun to involuntarily associate him with something akin to a safe shelter. Herkonnen. A psychopathic, bloodthirsty future baron. How ironic…

However, being in his arms helped you come to the conclusion that the demons of the past should remain in the past. And you should focus on the newest one that is now wrapped around you.

You stare at your reflection in the glass, shuddering as his scent surrounds you, mixed with the blood that stains his uniform. You wonder which soldier you will have to find a replacement for this time.

"What were you thinking about?" He whispers that he doesn't loosen his grip on you even for a moment, knowing full well that the moment he does, you'll wriggle out of his arms and find another excuse to leave him.

You checked the condition of engines and fuel 8 times. He started counting after the ship's captain complained to him about your constant presence. He beheaded him without giving him the opportunity to complete his complaint against you. Feyd smiles, remembering the irritated frown on your forehead when you had to clean up his mess. Of course he followed you then. Of course, 'just to make sure that the next captain you appoint will be more competent'.

"It doesn't matter." You sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. He would enjoy your submission and willing closeness if he didn't see that, by doing so, you only wanted to distract him from the main topic. Clever little witch you were…

"It must be important if you stopped paying attention to your surroundings. You are always alert and aware of the things that happen around you. No matter what. I remember how, during one of our escapades, you were the only one who didn't fall into the trap."

"Well, that one was actually obvious." You say it with a mocking smile, remembering how you had to save him and his soldiers.

For the rest of your life, you will never forget how you had to dig Baron Feyd-Rauth Harkonnen out of the mud and save his ass from the Assassins who planned his execution. Of course, he killed any witnesses, leaving only you and him alive. After all, his uncle and brother couldn't find out about it.

He growls in your ear, tightening his grip on you as a warning, when you make him replay that day in his head.

"Don't brag now. I was… busy observing something much more interesting than muddy swamps." He grumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. The warm air he exhales makes you shiver.

"Which was?" You ask shakily, placing your hands over his to stop him from roaming them over your body.

"You." His answer is short and simple, as if it were the most obvious thing you should know. He doesn't hide it anymore; he doesn't keep his desire to himself. He wants you. He craves you. He shows it to you so clearly and thoroughly that you laugh at how naive you were to believe that you had only a friendly, platonic relationship. But how could you not believe that he only saw you as a means to an end when he treated everyone else around him like that? Since he treats people like things to play with and break whenever he wants? How could you have predicted that you would become his obsession, a precious jewel in his collection that he would want to protect and have just for himself? "I'm asking for the last time. What were you thinking about, little witch?" He asks, wrapping his hand around your neck and forcing you to look into his eyes.

You have no escape from him now. And you certainly won't tell him that lately you've been thinking more and more often about how to run away from him, or what would happen if you stayed with the Bene Gesserit, or how your life would have looked if you escaped from them on your own. You wonder if it wouldn't have been better to bury yourself in the sands of Arrakis all those years ago with your friends and die there. You are sure that it would be a much more dignified death.

"I... I thought about Arrakis." You decide to respond safely and carefully, so as not to reveal too much to him. You didn't want him to become suspicious of you. Not when you had to handle him carefully, lest you fulfil any of the Bene Gesserit's sick plans and visions.

"So what about this? Are you scared?"

"No. I am not. I'm never afraid. Fear is the mindkiller. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration." You repeat the mantra automatically without thinking much about it.

You flinch as you realise that you are answering quickly with the Bene Gesserit litany of fear, which they've made you learn by heart. A great deal of anger grows within you as you realise how much they have influenced your life, even so many years after you ran away from them.

"You're quite tense. More than when I usually hold you." He points this out, starting to gently stroke your back in an attempt to relax you. You give him an angry look instead, suddenly understanding why he was irritated with you for reading him and his emotions perfectly when he was the one who was flustered and furious.

It was always easier for you than for him to hit sensitive places or to read the other one like an open book. Apparently, you're not the only one who's learned this over the years. He knew you as well as the back of his hand. He just never showed any trace of concern for your well-being.

You had your… tender moments when you allowed yourselves to be vulnerable with each other once or twice, but you both treated them more as minor lapses in maintaining your impenetrable façade of indifference and neutrality. In the end, everyone is on their own. And looking for a friend in him was a completely stupid thing—an act of true naivety and a sign of self-destruction, maybe even masochism.

"Maybe you shouldn't hold me at all, then?" You growl at him furiously, unable to control yourself. He just frowns, more surprised by your behaviour than offended by this blatant act of disrespect. He had rarely seen you so nervous or furious.

Of the two of you, you were the one who was the most calm and composed. You were always able to hide all your emotions behind a mask of indifference. He's fascinated by how you really behave when you don't have a filter on. He often throws you off your balance only to see your cheeks flush with anger; you take out your anger in a fight (just like him); or you bite your lip to avoid saying something back to his taunts.

"Or maybe you should drop your attitude and just let me do it?" He asks, his lips brushing against your earlobe. He doesn't wait for your response; he simply catches the tip of your ear between his teeth. He bites in gently, sucking and caressing your skin with his lips, as if your ear's superior helix were the sweetest delicacy he could enjoy.

"I'm not fighting or trying to escape, am I?" You respond, enduring his treatment with dignity. At the ship's window, you can see a small smile appear on his lips at your words.

He decides to pull away from you, but he is not giving you even the smallest chance to run away from him. He presses you against the cold glass, entering your personal space even more than when he had you close against his chest. You lift your chin, looking at him defiantly as he puts his hands on your hips.

"You are not. But you also don't want to be here in my arms." He replies, cupping your chin with two fingers. He leans closer, making you feel the metallic scent of blood that still lingers on him, probably from his fight with some prisoners on the ship. "And I don't like it at all." He whispers hoarsely into your ear.

"Since when do you care what others want? I don't remember you spoiling your concubines like that." You snap, causing him to laugh mockingly and shaking his head in amusement.

He leans in, making you tense up slightly. You think he's doing it to kiss you, but instead of feeling his lips on yours, you feel his cheek brush against yours, and his lips blow hot air into your ear again as he whispers softly:

"Because they weren't you, Y/N." You shiver at the sound of his dark, hoarse whisper in your ear. You can't say you don't feel the effects of his... seduction. But you promised yourself long ago that you wouldn't be any man's whore, concubine, plaything, or broodmare. And certainly not HIS. No matter how... tempting he could be.

"And what is so special about me? Hm? My body? My appearance? That I can fight well? You would get bored of me. Like you did with all your concubines."

"Did they understand me like you do? Have you ever seen them look at me as anything other than a wild, bloodless beast in the heat?" He answers your angry questions with his, dismissing your attempt to start a verbal fight with him.

His thumb traces the line of your jaw, examining you closely. Looking into his light blue eyes makes you feel uncomfortable. He shouldn't have reacted to you like that. You weren't used to anything he had been doing these past few weeks. You preferred to fight him than... when he showed you so much tenderness, appreciation, and affection.

"Have I ever looked at you differently?" You ask defiantly. He smiles, licking his plump lips. You give in to this provocation, and, without controlling it at all, you move your gaze to his lips. His dark chuckle makes you look back into his eyes.

"Yes. Yes, you did that... you don't even know how often." He hums, his fingertips moving towards your mouth. He caresses your lips with incredible tenderness and delicacy. He presses on them gently, but you squeeze them as tight as you can, preventing him from doing anything he planned.

You react faster than him. You bite his wandering fingers, take advantage of the fact that he is still trying to process what has just happened, and quickly pull away from him. He laughs, shaking his head, looking at you intently as he deliberately crosses the distance between you two. He doesn't have to say anything for you to see how clearly he's mocking you and daring you to continue to defy him.

"We're not even on Arrakis yet, and you're already delusional, my na-Baron? Or maybe the black sun of Giedi Prime made you start seeing a mirage?"

"If you are a mirage or an illusion, then I never want to be sane again, my little witch." You gasp, as he wraps his arms around you tightly, clinging to you completely. He leans in, his nose tracing a line along your temple, inhaling your scent before burying his face in your hair.

He keeps a firm grip on your shoulders. You place your hands on his, trying to loosen his tight grasp somehow, but it only makes him hold you tighter. He tilts his head slightly and brushes his nose against yours.

You shiver, feeling how close he is and how his musky smell, mixed with a hint of metallic blood, surrounds you. He presses himself against you so tightly that there's practically no space left between your bodies. You close your eyes, letting out a small, shaky breath. And just as he's about to press his lips against yours, the metal door to the room slides open with a loud bang.

You jump away from him, grunting as a young recruit enters your field of vision.

“My lord na-Baron. Lady Y/N. We will land in fifteen minutes."

"We would rather notice it ourselves." Feyd growls at him. You see him reach for the hidden dagger. You walk over to him, resting your chest against his back, and grab his hand before he places it on his dagger and throws it at the poor man.

"Thank you, Oliver." You say with a smile. The man swallows in fear at Feyd's furious glare. He bows and leaves the two of you alone.

You step away from Feyd, letting go of his hand. You frown, seeing that he's even more furious than when one of the soldiers entered. You raise your eyebrow questioningly, not understanding why he's practically huffing in anger now.

"What?" You finally ask him, not understanding the reason behind his behaviour.

"Oliver... do you call all of them by their names?" He asks, spitting out the soldier's name in disgust. You sigh, rolling your eyes as you reach for the shawl he had thrown off you and put it back on your head.

"If I know them, then yes, why?"

"You've never called me anything other than my lord and na-baron." He speaks in an almost accusatory tone. It takes a lot of strength in you not to burst out laughing when you realize he's completely serious and not joking right now. You try to come up with some excuse, wondering how to safely answer his question.

"And you always call me your little witch." You answer. Using his name somehow never felt right to you. At first, out of respect for him, maybe even fear. After all, he saved you from the clutches of the Bene Gesserit. Calling him by his name was out of the question. With time, you did it out of habit. And now… now you didn't want to call him by anything else because you knew that it would be a small step on his way to make you his.

"So this is supposed to be our thing?" He asks with a challenging, teasing smile.

"We don't have a thing." You huff, walking towards the exit. He, of course, follows you faithfully. You can feel the excitement radiating from him. He was definitely planning something big to do on Arrakis. Something he didn't tell you. You just hoped that he would be too busy with his brother and securing the spice mine to take care of you at the same time.

"Don't we?"

"You should focus on what you tell your brother. You're finally taking the reins. Rabban won't give them to you that easily. And we need to establish a final plan of action on Arrakis." You say, returning to your matter-of-fact, cool tone. He smiles, nodding.

"Don't worry about that… I'll make him kiss our shoes." You snort, shaking your head in amusement at his words. It might be true, but it's still hard for you to imagine him actually putting this plan into action. As you'll see in a few minutes, he actually intended to do that. "And the plan was decided a long time ago. I told you I wouldn't let us split up. And not because I question your leadership skills or loyalty. You are the only competent and worthy person to lead half of my army. But we, little witch, work together. Always. You don't change something that works perfectly. Get ready. We're landing soon." He leaves you with a quick kiss on your temple.

He walks away from you with a sly smirk, as if he's managed to trick you. You sigh as you watch him walk out of sight, walking with a spring in his step towards his room, probably to grab his things and get his harpies ready to leave.

You look out the ship's window at Arrakis for the last time. You close your eyes, promising yourself that since the Bene Gesserit, Feyd Rautha, Giedi Prime, or the Harkonens hadn't killed you, this damn planet wouldn't do this either. You weren't the same Y/N from 10 years ago. You were more powerful. Your bones won't sink into the sands of this damn dune... you'd even rather become the mother of that Kwisatz Haderach.

You practically jump out of bed with your heart beating fast as you wake up from another nightmare. You sigh shakily, pressing your hand to your mouth, trying to calm your breathing as best as you can as your heart pounds frantically against your chest.

The screams of your companions echo in your ears, and the images of the Fremen pumping the water out of them replay in your head. And that damned sandworm...

“Y/N, look at me.” His cool hands on your bare shoulders and his raspy, commanding tone bring you back to reality.

As soon as you look into Feyd Rautha's blue irises, you stop trembling. You snap out of this strange trance, trying your best to forget about the returning memories that haunted you more often during this week of your stay on Caladan. You suspect that this may have resulted in a rather close relationship with Lady Jessica. You breathe slowly, focusing on his pale skin that looks like snow, illuminated by the moonlight that streams through the window of one of the Caladan's inns.

“Breathe in and out.” He gives you another order. You nod, imitating the pace of his slow breathing as you slowly begin to calm down. "I will kill that witch as soon as I get my hands on her." He growls, brushing your sweaty hair away from your forehead with his hand. You see immense anger in his eyes and the seeds of a plan forming in his head as he thinks of many ways to make that Bene Gesserit pay for your nightmares.

"You can't. She's the prince's mother. Besides, it's not her fault that she recognised me from somewhere. I could have been more careful."

"You covered your face with a mask for an entire week, all the time, even to sleep. What can you call that other than being careful? Besides, the baron knew that these negotiations were doomed to failure anyway. It's not like her suspicions ruined them. I would have decided to leave this damned palace even without it." He assures you, slowly lowering the two of you back onto the mattress. He wraps one arm around you, his tight embrace grounding you in the moment and helping your mind focus entirely on the present rather than the dark memories from your past.

"The Baron will be furious with you. It's all my fault. You should have killed me." You say, focusing your gaze on his daggers, which are strapped to his hip. Feyd follows your gaze and snorts. He grabs your neck, forcing you to lift your head and look into his eyes again.

"And get rid of the only competent right hand I've had in years? I'd rather suffer his punishment for this... small act of disrespect towards the Atreides. And who knows? Maybe he'll even like it? Harkonnen chooses inns over Atreides' palaces. I can always say that I saw rats running freely around my chamber and decided that such conditions are not worthy of a na-Baron and they are an insult to my person that I could not allow them to do." You roll your eyes at him, but you can't help but smirk at him.

Feyd finds himself smiling slightly at the sparkle of amusement in your eyes. He decided he preferred seeing them in your eyes rather than the emptiness and terror that didn't even let you breathe normally. He reveled in the fear of others. But yours brought him more pain than joy. Unpleasant pain.

It was starting to worry him. And maybe he would think about it more if you weren't lying so close to him now, practically in his arms. At his fingertips if he wanted to play with you. But, surprisingly, he didn't. And even if so, he wanted it only if you were as desperate for his touch as he was for yours.

"There are also rats on Giedi Prime. And you have to share a room with me because there's not enough space here for all of us. I'm sure your harpies are furious. You'd probably rather do something else with them, too, than hold me through my nightmares like some scared little child." You tease him, snapping him from his thoughts. He looks at you carefully, admiring the way the beads of sweat on your forehead glisten in the moonlight.

He feels a strange, new desire to make them be caused by him... or rather, by the activity he would subject you to. His gaze returns to your eyes and your lips, and he feels himself harden slightly as his thoughts turn to fantasies about you—something he's been doing a lot more of lately. One of his harpies mentioned something about him moaning your name...

"Maybe you actually deserve this punishment? Such sharp language…" He whispers huskily, tracing the line of your jaw with the pad of his thumb. He watches you carefully, and, as usual, he sees no fear in your eyes. Even when his fingers travel to your neck and then to the fabric of your nightgown, imagine how close he is to touching what you hide from him and everyone else behind your outfits designed to fit you into staying in the shadows and fighting. If he could, he would dress you in the most beautiful silks and jewellery so that he could feast his eyes on the only beautiful view of Giedi Prime. You see a crease form on his forehead as he becomes aware of this strange desire. He removes his hand before he goes too far to come back, and he clears his throat as he focuses his gaze on your eyes again. "What was that? That dream?"

"I... I don't want to talk about it." Feyd feels how you tense up just thinking about your nightmare. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't care. He wouldn't spare a thought or, if he was curious enough, force them to talk. But with you... he just nods and gives you space, turning to lay on his side of the bed.

"Feyd..." His heart beats faster after you use his name for the first time. He turns to your side of the bed so he can fully look at you. He hums, pretending that you're not giving him a heart attack and that he's not replaying the soft, gentle tone with which you said his name in his head. And he wants to hear it again. In many ways. A quiet whisper, a cry, a scream of pleasure as he makes you come... "I... can you..."'

He doesn't wait for you to ask him. And he could. He could make you beg for him to bring you the comfort you need or mock you for being so defenceless and scared, but how can he make you do that when you look at him with those doe eyes? How can he do anything other than pull you into his chest, place his hand on your head, and play with your hair, guiding your face into the crook of his neck as you look at him like no one has ever done before?

He wasn't the type of man you turned to for comfort or solace, and yet here you were, lying next to him, just wanting to feel his safe embrace around you again. He smiles when he feels your breathing and pulse slow as you fall asleep against him, allowing him to be with you in your unconscious state. He could do many things to you. He could slit your throat, stab you in the heart, scalp you of all your beautiful hair, and touch and taste any part of you he wanted. Satisfy himself with you and give yourself to his concubines when he ends using you.

But all he can do, as you sleep so peacefully on his chest, is pull the covers tighter around you and place a gentle kiss on your head. He doesn't remember the last time he felt such peace or the last time he felt wanted—not because of his status or the benefits he could bring to someone, but simply because someone wanted to be close to HIM.

"After all… I guess Caladan isn't that bad, my little witch." He whispers, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

Feyd liked to think that the moment you first said his name and clung to him after the nightmare for comfort and security (IN HIM) was the moment he fell for you. But the truth was that it was a day later, after his uncle had punished him, inflicting various wounds with a blade on him, that you returned to the Giedi Prime without the expected agreement with Atreides. And, of course, he didn't rat you out. He took the blame. After all, it was his fault. He put your well-being above anything else and ordered to leave Caladan when Lady Jessica became too attentive to you. And he would do it again. He couldn't lose his right hand.

You felt guilty and took care of him. And those few days when you played the role of his nurse were the best ones in his life.

Feyd learned to love pain. Numerous punishments made it impossible for him not to do that. But he loved your gentle touch even more, esepcially when you tried your best to heal him. And he could get a thousand cuts or even more if it was the price of feeling your tender, caring touch on his skin once again.

And lying there with a torn back, looking at your sleeping form next to his bed, ready to meet his every little wish; he promised himself that he would do it. He will feel your hands on his body again. In better, less bloody circumstances. And definitely not with worry staining your beautiful eyes. But desire. Passion. Affection. Maybe even love.

"Uncomfortable, my lord?" You mock him with a little smirk as you both lie on the sand, observing the surroundings.

"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You huff, shaking your head at his words. You know it's the last thing he'll actually do at this point. You use your binoculars to zoom in on a specific sand dune, in the middle of which there should be a Fremen base.

"Someone woke up with his left foot. I thought you'd be more enthusiastic about the upcoming fight." You say, trying to spot any movement, silhouette, or anything that indicates that your informant was right, and this is the place where one of the more important sietches are.

"I am. But it's damn hot here. Besides, sand gets in where it shouldn't." You smile, barely holding back your laughter, as Feyd allows himself to grumble next to you. You squeal in shock as he spanks you. You look away from the dune and give him an offended, shocked look when he chuckles hoarsely at your reaction.

"You're lucky that it's just a desert and that you're not dressed all in black like our soldiers. If this shipment of new equipment, weapons, and uniforms does not arrive this week, I will return to Giedi Prime and slaughter these useless scientists and engineers. Besides, your harpies will probably be more than happy to help you get rid of every little grain of sand from your body."

"Jealous?" He asks as you go back to watching the dunes.

"I wouldn't willingly be around these cannibals even if you paid me." You say, ignoring the fact that he was clearly asking if you were jealous of HIM, not the fact that he has his concubines and you don't. You shiver, feeling his piercing, burning gaze on you.

You're a little annoyed that he's doing practically nothing. Apparently, he too must have felt the effects of spending many weeks in that damn desert, and he had enough. Just like all of you.

"Arrakis brings out your more feisty side… I like it." He takes the binoculars from you and looks in a completely different direction. You snort, trying to see what caught his eye. You frown as you see a sandworm scurrying in the distance. But it wasn't under the sand... "Tell squad six to kill it. Those rats must be moving around again."

"Will you waste the bomb on a sandworm?"

"Only the most important Fremen travel like this. Whoever's on the back of this is not just anyone." You nod. You turn on the communicator and share information with the group, giving them the orders. You feel Feyd's eyes focused on you all the time. You roll your eyes and shift your gaze to his as he continues to stare at you curiously.

"What?"

"You've been here before, right? You may not know the ways of the Fremen, but I can see in your eyes that this planet is no stranger to you."

"The Bene Gesserit prepared us for every circumstance." You answered him deceptively. However, this does not quench his curiosity. And you know that since you're doomed to wait here for a good hour before anything happens, you're doomed to keep him entertained.

"Did they send you to Giedi Prime too?"

"No. But I was often send to Caladan." You say, not realizing how bad a move it was. The wrinkle on his forehead and the gentle tightening of his hand on his blades prove to you what an idiot you are. But you can't keep an eye on the dunes and anticipate his mood swings at the same time. Which he's had quite a lot of since you came to Arrakis. He didn't show it to anyone else, but you could see that the heat was bothering him just as much as it was for all of you.

"Why? Breeding program? Don't tell me you were supposed to be Atreides' pet." He spit out from his mouth the names of the people who were his family's greatest nemeses, as if it were some kind of dead poison. Even though the Atreides were long dead, buried in the sands of Arrakis, he still talked about them with huge hostility.

No. I was supposed to be your pet.

"I don't know." You slide off the sand to get out of sight of your possible opponents. There's no point in observing the area now. You know that your best men and their troops are positioned around you, so you could have left them to make the first attack. For now, you had to defuse a bomb that was about to explode next to you.

"You don't talk about it often. About the Bene Gesserit." He pursues the topic further, following in your footsteps. You both are standing on a small ledge, with your backs pressed against a sandstone. You don't have much space, so you have to rest your arm on his so as not to fall down and crash into the rocks below you.

"I don't want to remember it. I have another life now. Better one." You say, fiddling with your communicator. You issue a surveillance order to the rest of your units and turn it off, waiting for them to notice something. You take the shawl off your head and wipe your sweaty forehead with it.

"I won't let them hurt you again. Or anyone else." You freeze for a moment at his words. All you can do is stare at him in shock as he reaches for your face and grabs your hair. He ties them awkwardly, making sure they don't get in your face. It's a sweet gesture... even too sweet for him. And you wonder how the hell he knows how to tie someone's hair back.

You are about to tie your shawl around your forehead again when Feyd suddenly takes it from you. He wipes the back of your neck and makes sure there isn't a single bead of sweat on your face before he ties your shawl around his wrist.

"Who said they hurt me?" You ask, swallowing. You try to hide the tremble in your voice, but you suddenly become very aware of how close you are to each other. And that you two are completely alone...

"Your eyes and actions tell me more than you can let through your mouth, little witch."

"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You respond with what he told you earlier without thinking much about it.

You gasp in shock as he presses you against the sandstone behind you, guiding the two of you deeper. His dilated pupils, slightly clenched jaw, and rapid breathing confirm how fucked up you are. You've lost your damn guard. Again. And now he will use it to his advantage.

"Oh, my darling little witch… you don't know how much I want you to do this…" He growls in your ear. His nose traces a path from your hair to your neck, inhaling your scent. You shiver as his lips brush against your neck.

"What are you doing?" You moan as he sucks your neck and bites it lightly, leaving a hickey there. He moves his head away from you and looks at the trail he created. He hums lightly, planning where to leave the next one. And another one. And another. And another...

"Shhh... We have a few minutes before they stop bombarding them. Another few before the dust settles and before we enter those rats' canals... let me make sure that my right hand is properly relaxed in the meantime."

As usual, he doesn't give you time to respond. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. His chapped lips brush against yours, gently urging you to open your mouth for him. You try to tighten them as best you can, but he somehow manages to bite your lip, which makes him immediately clear the way for his tongue.

You gasp as his hands cup your ass. His fingers dig into your flesh, and you know that if it weren't for the thick tactical suit, it would have left bruises in the shape of his fingers. He picks you up without breaking the kiss and presses you against the stone-sand wall of the small cave.

You moan as his bulge rubs against your clothed core. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding yourself up as he peppers your neck with hickeys, grinding against you.

On Giedi Prime, you would struggle with him, trying to break free from his grip. But here, while you've been busy planning, tracking, fighting, and increasing your spice production for the last few weeks, you haven't had any opportunity... to take care of yourself. He wasn't helping either, following you around and acting like a fucking guard dog. And from what you heard from your room next to his in the night, he wasn't denying himself anything. Damn bastard.

What you didn't know was that he was fucking his fist thinking about you all this time because, since the two of you shared a bath, none of his concubines have been able to please him. So he's just as desperate as you are.

You moan as he thrusts into you, especially hard. He also purrs against your neck at the sounds you make. You're well aware that if it didn't take you forever to put your clothes back on, he'd already have you naked beneath him, fucking you wildly and giving you orgasm after orgasm... and you almost want to let him. If only those fucking witches weren't planning on breeding you with him, you would have been riding him wild a long time ago.

At one point, he bites into your neck, making you scream uncontrollably. You blush furiously when he pulls away from your neck with your blood on his full lips and gives you a hungry, lustful look.

"Take off your pants." He orders you. He licks the blood from his lips and leans down to lick the rest from your neck, leaving a few more hickeys on it.

"We… can't… we... battle..." He suddenly stops making any movements, but instead of moving away from you, as you think he will, he grabs you tightly by the throat. He squeezes lightly and leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He breathes deeply and heavily, nuzzling his nose against yours before opening his eyes to fix his wide pupils on yours.

"Are you defying me?" You shake your head, always being a good soldier. "Good girl. Pants down, or I'll rip them off, and you'll have to walk back to the base without them."

This is a very real threat. And even though you know he would rather kill any man who dares to look at you in this state than expose you to the… lust of the hundreds of men who were on the base, you have no desire to parade around Arrakis with your bare ass. You start to take off your pants, slowly unbuttoning them. He won't even let you take them off of you all the way. As soon as he sees your exposed pussy, he drops to his knees in front of you, holding your hips in a tight grip.

"She blocks me so much when she has a damn spring between her legs… a real desert oasis…" He mumbles, his fingers collecting your wetness. You gasp as he looks you straight in the eye, sucking your juices from his finger. You lick your lips unconsciously, your brain completely stunned by the suddenness of the situation, the lust overwhelming you, the sight of him on his knees for you, as well as the spice in the air.

You don't even protest when he licks the stripe of your pussy and tightens his grip on your hips, pressing his face against your crotch. As he begins to lick and suck on your more sensitive parts, you scratch his scalp with your nails in a vain attempt to grab something. His dark, raspy chuckle against your clit makes you even wetter, as the vibrations and fingers teasing your entrance only fuel your desire.

He eats you like he's really dying of thirst. He brings out in you sounds that you would be ashamed of if you were in a better, saner, more aware state. And you try to maintain the last of your dignity and stifle your moans by placing a hand over your mouth, but he growls in protest and removes your hands so quickly that you have no idea when it happened. He places it on his shoulder, encouraging you to dig your nails into him as he devours you like his life depends on it. Like he would die if he didn't make you cum, lick up every last bit of wetness from between your legs.

At one point, he puts your leg over his shoulder. He's even closer to you (if possible), but you're not really paying attention to what he's doing as long as his mouth and fingers are still working their magic on you. You pull him closer, chasing your sweet release, when suddenly, he pulls away.

You growl in anger, opening your eyes. He's still on his knees in front of you, his face covered in your juices, and he's staring at you hungrily as if his face wasn't buried in your pussy moments ago.

"Say my name." His demand throws you off balance for a moment. You open your mouth to argue with him, to taunt him, but instead you close it quickly, biting your lip as his finger lazily moves in and out of your needy pussy. "Scream my name and I'll let you cum."

You don't want to give in to him like that. You don't want to show any weakness. But his fingers stretch you so wonderfully, hitting your most sensitive spot. You tremble around his fingers, biting your lip until it draws blood, too proud to admit to yourself how weak you were.

You escaped from the Bene Gesserit and from your fate to the only safe place; it's darkest under the lamp. No one in their right mind would willingly hide in the house of the man to whom you were supposed to submit. But it turned out that you were following the path these witches laid out for you anyway. But damn, he made you feel like you'd never felt with any man or woman...

You growl furiously as he removes his fingers again—right when you're finally about to come. He laughs hoarsely, sucking his fingers clean of your wetness.

"You're extending my fun, little witch. You must like it as much as I do." You protest as he dips his fingers inside you again, taking you close the edge again. You grab his neck, trying to pull him towards you, but he just laughs, intensifying the work of his fingers and fending off your feeble attempts to pull his face back to your needy cunt. "You know what you have to do to cum." He reminds you with a cocky smirk, watching your trembling, panting form.

Feyd drinks in the sight of you, so needy and desperate to orgasm. And it's all because of him. Every little moan, the closing of your eyes and the tilt of your head in pleasure, the ragged breathing, the quickening of your heartbeat, the wetness between your legs, the sweet nectar of the gods dripping down your thighs—it was all because of him. His cock hardens as he imagines how you'll react as he pounds into you like an animal in heat, stretching your tight walls for him. How you'll clench around his length and dig your nails into his back to feel him as close to you as possible. Or when you swell beautifully with his heir...

He will have you there. Willingly. He will prepare you as he is now; he will fuck out of you any thought until nothing except the desire for him remains.

"Feyd..." You moan as he unconsciously speeds up the movements of his fingers, thrusting them into you at breakneck speed. He smiles, blowing air at your pussy, making you moan even louder.

"Again." He demands, licking the small trail of your juices that has formed on your thighs. He welcomes the way you wet his hand and your shawl that was wrapped around his wrist. He'll save it for later this night.

"Feyd!" You pull on his head and he obliges. He couldn't be cruel to you in this state.

You come suddenly, quickly, and intensely. Your vision is blurry and unclear, and your blood is rushing through you as you moan loudly, holding on to him with all your might.

The next thing you know, he's holding you tightly by your trembling legs as he lowers you to his lap. You straddle him, hugging him tightly as you breathe slowly, trying to get back to a state of relative using after he fucked the orgasm of your life out of you. You hide your face in his neck, too disappointed in yourself to see the proud smirk on his face. He lazily rubs your back, holding you as you regain your strenght.

"You owe me, little witch. And you know, I always collect my debt." He growls hoarsely in your ear and presses a kiss on your temple. You can smell your scent on him. You blush, embarrassed, as you can feel desire rising in you again. "No response? Not a single malicious comment? Did I make you come so hard that now you are speechless? Are you really just a little mouse in need of my attention under that strong witch façade?"

"I'm not a fucking mouse." You snap at him in anger, finally coming to your senses.

"So that's the first one. Even better for me." He stands up, slowly carrying you from his lap to the ground. He reaches for your pants and helps you put them on. He grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him. You can't stand alone. You can't fucking stand alone. He laughs as he realises it, which irritates you to the point where you can't control yourself anymore.

"Shut up." You use your voice on him before you bite your tongue to stop yourself. Silence falls between you for a moment. You swallow, realising what you've done. You open your mouth to explain yourself, but, as usual, he beats you to it.

"Hmm… interesting. So you have that fire in you…" He tangles his hand in your hair and watches you closely, fascinated by the way you used your voice on him for the first time. "As sweet as I thought. Better than any water… Use that voice on me in a way I don't like, and I will really punish you, little witch. And this time, it will only be pleasant for me. Understood?" You nod your head with clenched teeth. "Good girl. Let's go. I believe they stopped dropping bombs right when you came on my face and fingers." He brags, letting you go when he sees you can stand on your own. You roll your eyes, realising how often he'll brag about it. You draw your blade and follow him, looking forward to hunting for Fremen.

You try to ignore the sand that… got where he was a few seconds ago and where he had it himself too. Damn bastard.

You walk through the corridors of your base. You're covered in blood, but it doesn't bother you much. Maybe a little when you remember that you will have to remove clotted blood from your hair. You sigh, adjusting the scarf around your neck that you took from some fremen to hide the hickeys as you walk to the war room to give new orders to the soldiers.

The Sietch has been completely destroyed by you. You murdered most of the fremen, and those left alive were taken prisoner... or to the camp brothel. You preferred not to go into details.

As you walk through the halls, you hear rustling behind you. You take a few slow steps and turn around, with your hand on your dagger, only to see na-Baron's harpies. You tense up as you watch the three women carefully and distrustfully.

"How can I help you?" You ask them, trying to avoid showing them genuine disgust and hostility. After all, they had somehow kept Feyd away from you… for now.

"The little witch is in trouble…"

"Our master will be very angry with her…"

"Maybe he'll even let us suck her bones when he's done with her…"

They say one by one, tilting their heads as they observe you. You shiver slightly, but you quickly adopt a hostile, intimidating stance, not caring much about what they say. They may have been cannibals, but you were a trained soldier and killer. You would kill them in a heartbeat if they weren't useful to you in some way.

"What do you want, vultures?" You growl at them, expecting them to get scared and return to their master's chamber, waiting for him like faithful dogs.

"The little witch's friend is here…"

"Our master is interrogating her…"

"And he learns very interesting things about the witch."

"When he's done with her, he'll be ours again."

"We will eat her meat and feast, celebrating our victory."

And what really should scare you more is the part about them saying they're going to eat you, but all you can think about is that friend he's interrogating. Another Bene Gesserit? Impossible. You made sure that everyone who came into contact with you either believed you were dead or forgot that you existed. Except for one… No. No, that wasn't possible.

"I have the blood of hundreds of rats on me. Get out of my sight unless you want yours to adorn my armor. And believe me… I will do it with great pleasure. I bet your master would fuck me on your corpse as a reward." You snap at them, still processing what may have been happening in the interrogation room. If your suspicions were true... you didn't even want to think about it. This couldn't be happening. You're paranoid. After so many years of keeping everything a secret... you couldn't lose control that easily.

You pay them no further attention and continue walking, ignoring their hisses and mocking laughter as you change your plans and head to the interrogation room.

You had to run away. As far away from here as possible. But if you do, he will chase after you. And when he finds you, and there is no doubt that he will, he will gut you and throw your remains to his harpies.

So you couldn't escape. You had to face him and try to tame him somehow. But how the hell are you going to explain to him that you ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be his concubine? Maybe a few years ago he would have understood it, but now that he has found this strange obsession with you, how could you get out of this situation? He'll cut you up before you even try to say anything.

You pass soldiers standing at the door of the interrogation room. They nod at you, letting you in as you hesitantly walk over to see for yourself if the situation is actually as dire as you think.

You feel the cold metal door on your back as it closes behind you with a bang. You freeze in place, swallowing nervously, as you see the Fremen Reverend Mother handcuffed to a chair. What scares you much more than the fact that it is really a Bene Gesserit is that it's Lady Jessica. Your former trainer in that sick sisterhood.

Feyd is standing right in front of her. His hands are gripped tightly around his daggers, and his gaze is focused on the woman in front of him. He strokes the blade of his dagger with his thumb as he is lost in his thoughts. He behaved as if he were completely oblivious to you, but you know him better than to even think for a while that he didn't notice your entrance. But he doesn't say anything as he continues to stare at her intently.

"She can tell you that herself. Right, Y/N?" Lady Jessica looks at you, raising an eyebrow defiantly. Even captured, she looks proud, as if she were the one who had power over what was happening in the room. "I should thank you. If it weren't for you, Paul would never have taken over the Kwisatz Haderach's way. No matter how hard I tried..."

"Feyd…" You ignore her and walk over to Harkonnen. You place a hand on his shoulder, but he just flinches at your touch, moving away from you. His eyes were fixed on the floor; he wasn't giving you even a single glance.

"I'm not surprised. If they sent me to breed with such a monster, I would also run away... not necessarily into his arms, but I really admire your skillful mind. To come up with such intrigue. No one would ever imagine that a little scared girl would run straight into the lion's mouth to take shelter there. I remember how you cried down my skirt when you found out what your mission was. I never would have imagined that my apprentice would go so far."

"Silence!" You shout at her, using the voice, and surprisingly, you succeed. You don't have time to try to understand what just happened—that you used your voice against a much stronger woman than you, the Reverend Mother. You walk up to Feyd and cup his cheek with your hand, forcing him to look at you.

His gaze is blank. He's wearing his mask, blocking out any emotions that might get through and reveal what he's thinking. He takes your hand and moves it away from his face, pushing you away from him like a bug.

"Would you like to see a monster, concubine of the Atreides? I'll be more than happy to show you one…" Before either of you can react, Feyd swings, creating a long gash across her chest. The woman gasps in shock, placing her hand on her wound, from which blood is now flowing down on the floor.

Before you can take a breath to talk some sense into him, he plunges the blade into her chest. You tremble as you hear the sound of cracked bones under the movement of his dagger and the witch's screams.

You don't do anything. You just stand there, watching as Feyd takes out his anger on her, disembowelling her. The metallic smell of blood hits your nostrils, but even that doesn't cause you to react. All you can do is stand and watch. And wait for your turn.

You feel sick as Lady Jassica's screams remind you of your friends who died on Arrakis. You deny what's happening in front of you as your thoughts return to that fateful day.

You weren't sent to Arrakis to try to survive. No, the plan created by Bene Gesserit was much worse. You were sent there to kill each other. This sick test was intended to eliminate weak individuals, leaving only one Bene Gesserit alive, the one who was the strongest among the young generation of women trained by these mad witches.

You were sent on one ship, thrown into the desert with weapons and one bottle of water, as an act of mercy. There were fifty of you. You killed half of them. Or at least that's what the Reverend Mothers told you after the Sisterhood took you back from there..

You were the only one left alive.

From that day on, you promised yourself that you would never let them control your life or make you go through these tests again. You didn't want to take part in their sick games ever again. You preferred to die rather than become their tool again, a monster that blindly follows their orders.

You never wanted to feel powerless or furiously frustrated again.

And now, standing there and staring blankly as Feyd killed the woman who was your mentor in front of you, you felt as if you were once again that helpless girl who is forced to do as she is told and who has no power over anything that is happening around her.

You flinch as blood reaches your shoes. You look up to see Na-Baron turning towards you. Blood was dripping down his armour as he cleaned his blades on her clothes, which were already soaked in blood.

For a moment, you delude yourself, thinking that it's not what you think. That he didn't actually discover the truth about your past in the Bene Gesserit by accident. That everything will be all right, just how it used to.

But by the look in his icy-blue eyes, you know he knows. He gives you the same angry, bloodthirsty glare that he gives his victims moments before they die. But there's something else there. Pain. Betrayal. Without knowing why, you feel a flood of guilt wash over you, outweighing your fear. But you didn't owe him anything. No loyalty or sincere devotion.

You gasp as he pushes you against the wall and presses the knife to your neck, breathing heavily. You feel it gently pierce your skin, causing blood to leak from the wound and run down your neck. He doesn't move away. He doesn't bend down to lick it off your skin. He presses further and harder, looking straight into your eyes. And you don't know if he's just testing you or if he really wants to kill you.

Suddenly, fucking him wasn't the worst solution to the situation you found yourself in...

Part III Taglist: (I hope that everyone is here...) @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13

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luvt0kki · 5 months

Text

𝟎𝟎𝟏 | 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞

She don't give a fuck about nobody

And she got her whole crew poppin'

And she bend it over like she got no back bone

🎧 six feet under - the weekend

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ s.w.m masterlist ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ taglist ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧

001 | next

pairings : ot8 x reader, (with a focus on Mingi and Wooyoung this chapter)

wc: 7.2k ( not fully proofread yet so sorry for any mistakes 🥺)

cw: mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, clubbing, alcohol, futuristic stuff that I had to google cause it’s been years since I watched Star Wars or scifi movies, nud1ty, hints of violence, hints of crime, slow burn, eventual smut, lots of teasing, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns and y/n, fembodied reader, mentions of segss work ( mostly just stripping), hints of violence

REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n: this is long I know 😭 but YES, look forward to part 2! Also I would really appreciate and enjoy like your thoughts in the replies or in my ask box hehe we can fangirl together for what’s to come

The former noble turned galactic nomad sighed as he stared out at the endless darkness littered with twinkling stars that maybe was a part of another system. It wasn’t that he found his life on the spaceship boring, in fact, he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

When his childhood best friend and also former crowned prince of their home planet, Jupiter, showed up after a year of escaping and denying the future laid out for him by the King, he had to know what he was up to. He had to talk to him and hear all about the life outside their planet and without the protection of their standing, the dangers, the perils, the thrill of the unknown and more.

Wooyoung then had not believed that his best friend, glowing with the freedom he had given himself, was right there in the bustling city’s downtown market. He had thought he had hallucinated and mistook the cloaked figure to be someone else but when his feet carried him to follow him, he was able to confirm that it was indeed his best friend.

Their reunion gave Wooyoung a chance at the same freedom Yeosang had sought after and a chance at meeting the band of brothers that he found that shared the same ideals. On his own volition without even consulting the Captain of the crew that Yeosang had become a part of, he decided that he was going with his best friend. Plus, what better way to create a reputation for himself as former noble turned space pirate? He liked how that sounded.

Which leads us now to the present…

Now he was part of one of the most revered and hunted group of pirates of the galaxy. Not what he had in mind really but he liked the life. The thrill, the danger and the excitement of it all. The not being told to act a certain way nor have his whole life planned to every second.

Was he buddy buddy with a bunch of rogue, violent and defiant pirates? Yup. He was one now too and the crew were like his brothers.

Sure he’s only known them for six months but there’s only so much you could do in a ship when you travel from one planet to the next, never ever really having a permanent dock. The ship was their home, his home…and the members of this crew were friends that he felt he was fated to meet.

But he hasn’t met one person of the crew…and he didn’t know that.

“Woo. Wake up. ” A firm hand shook him by the shoulder “We just docked at Xileon.” The calm and pleasing voice of their youngest slowly being heard in his ears as he gained consciousness.

“X-Xileon?” Wooyoung muttered, brows furrowing as his eyes blinked and squinted, adjusting to the soft light coming from his open door.

“Yeah, little fun rest stop. Well fun for me,” Jongho chuckled, excited to see all the cool technology and city life Xileon offered. He’s only ever been once when he had been an apprentice. Xileon was every science, engineering and tech geeks favorite planet, other than that the bustling fun night life it offered attracted all kinds of travelers across the galaxy. “C’mon, Captain says we’re free to do what we want while he contacts one of his informants.”

“What if I want to sleep, Jongho?” Wooyoung whined, sitting up despite his words.

“I know you’re always up for a party.”

“Now where did you hear that from?”

“Yeosang.” He shrugged, getting up from the edge of Wooyoung’s bed. “Come on, everyone’s going .” He clapped the raven haired man on the back, the impact making a little ‘oof’ escape Wooyoung.

“Yeah…yeah,” Wooyoung made a face, rubbing the back of his neck as he woke up. “I’ll be there…just wait a bit. Let me freshen up.”

“Don’t make us wait too long,” Jongho’s lips pursed in a childlike way, making Wooyoung chuckle a bit. As strong and intimidating as Jongho was, he was still their youngest and had an inner child that came out now and then.

“I won’t…I don’t want an earful from you anyways,” he snickered, playfully jabbing at him.

Jongho glared at him before leaving.

Xileon was a colorful fluorescent modern, futuristic jungle of a planet. The most high tech flying vehicles and motorcycle cruisers sped by the roads and streets, the avant-garde and neo-futuristic skyscrapers and buildings glimmered during the lively evenings of *Night City*. Clubs and the grandest of parties happened every night. The pounding music, the flashing lights and glittering champagne, and the vast choices of alcoholic concoctions called many for a good time but underneath all of that, it provided many individuals a guise to have dealings of a far more less than lawful nature.

If you’re lucky, Night City’s police would turn a blind eye. Just make sure you don’t get caught or were one of the most hunted wanted individuals of the galaxy.

Luckily for ATEEZ, they were never really caught…except for that one really disappointing and poor depiction of Mingi’s profile that was being plastered in every back alley or lamp post. It was a good thing it looked nothing like him and that that day, Mingi had been wearing an oversized leather cowboy hat that casted a shadow over his eyes so the wanted poster was practically useless. All Mingi had to do was not wear that hat ever again…he grumbled about it for a bit but he had let it go eventually.

The eight men stood in line for one of the top venues to experience the night life the city offered.

While their Captain and First Mate were here to do conduct business, the rest decided to enjoy the establishment as well as make sure they were there should anything go south. But as they entered, guided by a bouncer with a metallic high tech prosthetic arm, Hongjoong dressed in an exquisite Aegean velvet suit tailored to his frame like a glove, turned to them once more to remind them that this whole affair was likely not to be any trouble.

“Don’t worry too much and try to enjoy yourselves,” he ran his fingers through his dyed azure hair before adjusting the lapels of his blazer, some tipsy club goers passing by to leave eyed their captain’s slightly exposed skin. The rest of them garnered looks as well the more they walked into the place, the music pounding and colored lights flashing. “If anything,” he tapped by his ear, earrings glimmering as they’re caught in the lights, the little communication device Jongho fashioned for them hidden behind his and their earlobes. “I’ll call you.”

“But, really, please do enjoy yourselves.” Seonghwa smiled, raven dark hair sweeping perfectly to frame his handsome face. “We rarely get days like these. Have fun.”

The newest addition to their crew grinned like a cat who got the cream, eyes looking over the dance floor with a glint of mischief and the full intent to indulge himself in pleasures he was used to having. “Don’t worry, Seonghwa. I plan to do just that.” He winked at the women who looked his way.

“Oh, he’s in his element.” Yeosang chuckled, throwing an arm over his best friend. “Don’t get into that kind of trouble, Woo.”

“It’s trouble they want anyways.”

“Were you always this cocky?” Mingi’s nose scrunched up at his friend’s obnoxiously flirty behavior.

“Don’t act like you’re not a flirt when you want to be.” Yunho teased the crew’s gunner, poking his side.

“I know I said to have fun,” Hongjoong spoke as they made their way through the spread wide and lively establishment, passing several tables, booths and private rooms. “But do behave.”

That was their last exchange with the group before Seonghwa and him continued down towards the part of the club with another set of bouncers that led to the private and premium rooms. Straight to business while the rest stood by the railings that overlooked the dance floor and bar below, eyeing what entertainment tonight had to offer each of them.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Jongho turned to San, their agent, who stayed close to them, rather protectively, almost like a bodyguard. His posture was straight yet elegant with an air of quiet and unquestionable confidence, almost making one think that he may have come from royalty.

“Places like these…” San’s cat like eyes scanned the room, processing possible exits and blind spots. “Can’t be too careful.”

“Maybe some alcohol in your system will help loosen you up.” Wooyoung came to his side, eyes on the dance floor eying for a partner for one night, the ocean of people reminding him of the days he’d sneak out his father’s manor to party with the other elites.

“He doesn’t hold his liquor well,” Jongho stated, crossing his arms over his chest, a group of what seemed to be innovators, inventors and scientists out to have a good time catching his eye as one of them boasted their interactive hologram that displayed a model of an advanced hover cycle. “I’ll be doing some mingling.” He clapped Yeosang on his back as he made his way to the group cooly while simultaneously getting a shot from a hostess passing by.

“Seems like he’s done this before. Not so baby as I thought he was,” Wooyoung hummed with narrow eyes, watching Jongho easily join the groups conversation and a random woman sizing him up flirtatiously.

“We should get a table,” Yeosang suggested.

“A booth.” San inputted. “Specifically in that corner.” He gestured with a tilt of his head to the far right corner of the dance floor below. “I can keep an eye on things there better.”

“To give Sannie some peace of mind, we should follow his request.” Yunho placed his hands on their agents broad and stiff shoulders.

“I’ll get us drinks.” Mingi decided, heading down the aesthetically pleasing steps to the bar. His tall, muscular figure was clad in a fitting white shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows topped with a vest that cinched at his waist, boasting his defined v-tapered back. Little did the people who gave him double takes knew, beneath the leg of his trousers, strapped to his ankle was a knife and at the back of the waistband was a gun.

With Yeosang’s charm, the boys were able to secure the corner table booth that was a bit further away from the dance floor, it was private and one that definitely were for VIPs. What they liked was that it was close enough to where the party was but far enough that they can speak to one another while the music drummed at a less overwhelming volume. San sat took his spot on the dark violet cushioned seat that gave him a view of all the exits and entrances and for now, since it was just the start of a long fun night, they decided to have a couple of drinks and some food while enjoying each others company and the music.

“You need to relax,” Wooyoung tutted at San, unbuttoning another button of his shirt to expose more of his honey skinned chest. “When was the last time you fucked, huh?” He asked the former assassin.

“W-what?” San stuttered, eyes growing wide and ears tinting pink at the sudden question. For such an intimidatingly handsome man, he sure flustered easily.

Yunho looked over at San with concern, the last time San had been with anyone…was before Wooyoung had joined the crew…before—

“You never really told me your type?” Wooyoung wiggled his groomed brows, relaxing in his seat as he watched people dance, bodies pressing against one another, some fitting perfectly and rolling in tandem with whomever they danced with.

Yeosang quietly observed his friends, savoring each sip of his drink and mindful of their interactions.

“I-I don’t have a type.” San murmured, reaching for a glass from the tray Mingi returned with, who settled next Yunho on the other end of the couch.

“San’s not really the sleeping around kind of person,” Mingi’s deep voice almost melded with the low hum of the bass music.

“And you are?” Wooyoung scoffed at their gunner, his newly dyed pink hair catching the eyes of those that passed by them.

“Pleasure is pleasure,” Mingi shrugged his broad shoulders, ringed fingers cradling his whiskey sour. “But,” he reached for one of the thinner silver chains around his neck. He pulled out a specific one with a pendant. “I’m a loyal man.”

San stared at the pendant, a wave of melancholy washing over him as he recalled memories of who that butterfly pendant belonged to and who it signified.

“You’ve got someone?” Wooyoung’s interest was piqued immediately, forgetting the women he had been eying across the dance floor and now staring at the pendant that Mingi displayed proudly and pressed to his lips.

His smirk was answer enough for Wooyoung.

“It must be hard for them.”

Yeosang tilted his head. “Why’d you think that?”

“Because we’re rebels, bandits/pirates? Shall I go on and list the colorful achievements of our crew? Plus,” he turned his gaze to the dance floor, locking with a pair of eyes so magnetic that even behind the intricate lace masque she wore, just a small moment had him looking for them when he lost it. “Isn’t it cruel to make her wait?”

Mingi’s reaction caught Wooyoung off guard. He scoffed with a slight amused smirk on his face, as if what Wooyoung had said was funny.

“She’s not doing all the waiting.” San spoke without thinking before Mingi could reply, his eyes transfixed on the pendant until it disappeared back beneath Mingi’s shirt. His eyes returned to observe the happenings around him.

Wooyoung wondered what San meant but he didn’t have enough time to think much of it when another round of drinks arrived.

As the night progressed, the drinks emptied were quickly refilled and Wooyoung danced, mingled and flirted like he did back in his old life. Seonghwa and Hongjoong after having met with their informants had joined them at their table, while Wooyoung and even Yeosang danced, the rest deciding to play a game of pool.

Wooyoung was not blind to the wandering eyes that were on him and his very attractive crew members. Many flirted with them but it was never more than that. His friends entertained their advances but were quick to turn them down when they asked or suggested for more.

But he didn’t worry much about it, not when he was searching for that pair of eyes he locked with earlier. Where was she? He would catch glimpses of her now and again but she was always a distance away from him, and every time he tried to head to her direction and he lost her in his peripheral, she was gone.

Was he hallucinating ? He wasn’t even that drunk.

Soft fingers brushed the nape of neck, nails scraping delightfully on his skin. He knew what that meant. Grinning and letting himself go, he turned to entertain another flirty party goer, only to meet the masked beauty he was searching for all night.

Sporting what clearly was a shoulder length pink bob wig with bangs, her eyes were hidden behind a white lace masque and she wore the most alluring Mona Lisa smile that haunted his mind since he had seen her.

Wooyoung with his experiences back in his and Yeosang’s home planet, girls like her, like you, who came to happenings like this dressed almost incognito, meant that you were here for a very good time that not even your identity can be disclosed.

He smirked and placed his hands on your waist, pleasantly surprised to feel warm skin against his palms. With how packed the dance floor was, he couldn’t really get a good look of your outfit but from what he could see, you wore a bejeweled bralette with straps that were lined with tiny crystals and brushing over his knuckles as you both swayed were long beaded shimmering strings hanging by the band.

So who were you? Some elite socialite whose reputation was too good to ruin in a scene like this? A noble like he was looking for a good time? A princess of some other planet?

“Hey,” your sultry voice, like honey to his ears. “My eyes are up here.”

Your arms hung over his shoulders, giving the handsome stranger a quick look down as if you hadn’t been observing him all night.

The buttons of his black silk dress shirt revealed his toned chest, honey skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat beneath the party lights and his pretty neck was wrapped in a matching silk black choker with the extra fabric dangling in a classy fashion.

“And mine are up here too,” he teased back and pulled you against him. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Oh?” Glossy pink lips stretched into a smirk and shimmering eyes locked with his. “And why would you be doing that?”

“Because I’ve decided,” he turned you around, his hands on your hips keeping you in place against his own as the two of you danced to the music. His lips were hot against your ear while your hand rested on the back of his neck, rolling your hips sensually. Wooyoung smirked against your ear.

You wanted him just as much as he did.

“That you’re mine for the evening.”

“Yeah?” You tilted your head slightly to give him access to your neck, your eyes falling to his group of friends by the pool table.

“Not everyone gets that privilege, baby.” He husked, brushing his soft and hot lips along the column of your neck, breathing in your addicting scent.

Wooyoung wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol and the heat of the dancing crowd that was getting him so easily riled up but something about your aura was so magnetic and intoxicating. Was it because he hasn’t slept with anyone since he left Jupiter?

“Well aren’t you arrogant.” You raked your nails through his hair, shivers going down his spine and sending pulsing heat to his crotch. “Was that supposed to flatter me?”

His eyes shut at the delicious sensation of your touch. He wanted to get you alone, heck, he would have you on the dance floor if he could. He almost forgot how good it was to fuck after months of traveling the galaxy. He wanted to fuck. He wanted you.

“Don’t lie to yourself and say you’re not.” He brushed his lips on your earlobe, his hot breath against your ear and the way his hands roamed your body felt good.

God, how did his friends put up with his cocky flirty attitude?

“Is that what you want me to do?” You rolled your hips against his, completely aware of the growing hardness pressed against your ass as he ground his hips to the music. “Lie?”

“Trust me sweetheart, there’s many things I want you to do.”

“And what are those things?” You purred whilst tugging at his hair, your voice and your gesture spurring his desire further.

He gripped your hips tighter and lowered his lips to your neck, to the spot just below your ear. He pulled you closer to his body to feel the heat of your form on his own before letting his hands roam freely again, feeling the exposed skin beneath the beaded strings that teased every spectators eyes.

“I want you,” he growled against your skin, pressing his lips just a little bit. “Legs spread apart with my head between your thighs.”

The warmth of his hot lips and the lust in his words undeniably sent heat to your core, and the image he painted with his words was so tempting. Plus, the fact that that was his response set him apart from other men. Usually the response you’d get were more about their pleasure never yours.

You hummed at the thought before turning around to face him and meet his eyes. He wore that flirtatious grin and his eyes were blown with lust. They had a look in them that you found so sexy, you couldn’t help but play a little.

“You’re very bold.”

“I’m honest.”

“And what’s an honest man such as yourself doing here?” You caressed his cheekbone with a gentleness that made Wooyoung’s heart skip a beat.

“What do you know about honest men?”

“Well for one, they don’t spend their time in a place like this.” You swayed to the beat closer to him. “Secondly, an honest man always ends up with an honest woman. I’m far from honest.”

“Then maybe we’re just two dishonest people.”

He watched your pretty lips stretch into an endearing grin, their glossiness and plumpness pulling him closer to you.

“Maybe we are.” Your sweet breath fanned over his lips, your foreheads touching, so dangerously close.

“I wonder what you taste like.” His thumbs caressed the skin of your waist.

You grazed your lips over his just a little and Wooyoung could get a little taste of cherry from the gloss you wore while you slid a hand between the two of you. Your fingertip brushed along the exposed skin of his chest then the silk of his button up shirt before they lingered at the waistband of his trousers. Before he could even think about pressing his lips on yours, you turned your cheek and leaned in his ear. Your right hand skimmed over the hardness of his crotch, making a cute little gasp escape the strikingly handsome man.

His cock twitched beneath your teasing touch.

“Like heaven,” you purred.

His forehead fell on your shoulder as he bit his lip, holding back a moan as you palmed him through his pants.

“But…” your touch left his hardened member, the loss of friction making him groan. “Not everyone gets that privilege.” You echoed his words back to him.

Before he could react, his head dizzy and spinning from both the alcohol and your hot touch, you slithered your way through the crowd.

His eyes watched the pink of your hair amongst the dancing and close proximity of people. You headed to the back, to the dark red velvet decorated motif which was below the second floor where the premium private rooms were. You nodded at the two bouncers who guarded the velvet draped entrance, who smiled back at you.

Did you work here?

Before you disappeared behind the curtains to what he assumed was the private entertainment rooms, you casted him one last glance. It was like you were telling him to follow.

Wooyoung wasn’t the type to be whipped by just anyone. He knew what was worth his time or not but with you, he wasn’t even thinking. His feet moved on their own to follow you like he was under some spell.

“Hey, I found you.”

Jongho entered his peripheral.

“Huh?”

“Captain said his informant got us a private room as a treat.” Jongho’s hand on his shoulder started to guide him through the crowd, towards the dark glowing red area.

“For what?”

“For taking care of the man who was his competition. Even though that wasn’t our intention.”

Wooyoung frowned, adjusting his pants to hide his erection. Not really how he wanted to spend the rest of his night but if Captain calls, you do not make him call twice.

“Ugh,” he ran his hands through his hair, missing and imagining your touch. “Fine.”

If he was lucky, he was going to find you…

“This is…odd.” San spoke, sat on the curved plush couch between Yeosang and Mingi of the rather compact red room with just enough space for ten people.

“Why is that?” Jongho asked, pouring himself another drink, the golden liquid in his glass like honey.

Hongjoong made himself comfortable at his spot on the left curve of the couch, legs crossed classily as his eyes stared at the empty little platform in the center of the room, the silver pole glowing cause of the mood lights..

“Isn’t entertainment like this supposed to be for one set of eyes?” San wondered out loud.

It’s not that he hasn’t ever experienced this before. He has. It’s just more private when it’s him and the performer. He never thought of doing an activity with his friends…though they have indulged in some acts on the ship when a certain someone was around.

“Yeosang and I used to do this all the time,” Wooyoung shrugged nonchalantly, making his best friend’s eyes widen at how he threw that info out so easily. “Oh c’mon, they don’t care about your Perfect Prince Yeosang reputation.”

Mingi chuckled at their interaction and Wooyoung narrowed his eyes at his friend.

“Why are you here? Aren’t you a loyal man? Now I feel even sadder for your girlfriend.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Mingi pushed his black shades up higher to shield his eyes. “I am a loyal man cause no matter what, no one can compare to her. I wouldn’t be in this room if Captain’s informant wasn’t a dickhead who will take offense if not all of us accepts his ‘treat’.”

“Also, this club has a policy of not touching the dancers unless they consent,” Seonghwa added. “We just enjoy the show the lovely lady assigned to us will put on, tip her extra and that’s it.”

“And we can’t just leave why?” San sighed, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Because the informants goons will report back to him if we turn down his gift,” Yunho explained, knowing the character of that rich man all too well. “Hongjoong still needs to be on his good side til he gets information of the location of the Cromer.”

A soft knock on the door silenced them and all that could be heard now was the vibrating hum of the music that played in the room.

“Boys,” Hongjoong spoke lowly, casting them a glance. “Play nice.”

Jongho raised his glass at that, leaning back into the other end of the curved seat.

“Good evening, gentlemen.”

Wooyoung stopped breathing. No fucking way.

Too lost in his own surprise of coincidence, he wasn’t able to catch the way his crew mates interest were suddenly piqued.

With you only being the one standing, Wooyoung was able to see you in your full glory. The purple lilac bralette bedazzled with sequins cupped your breasts so perfectly and the crystal beaded strings caught the fluorescent light in a way that made you shimmer and appear like a goddess. Behind the curtain of beads, all of them could see your naked skin but compared to when Wooyoung had danced with you earlier, the silk mini skirt you wore was gone.

Feeling all their eyes on you, you smiled coyly at their Captain, stepping your foot onto the circle platform in the middle of the room, showing off the skin of your legs that were elongated by your silver heels.

“Shall I get started then?” You asked, running a finger from your ankle to the purple garter on your thigh, aware of how their eyes followed the trail of your chrome lilac painted nails.

“It’s you.” Wooyoung breathed out, eyes tracing the waistband of the sorry excuse of an underwear that matched your bralette. It was tiny and flimsy, and almost left nothing to the imagination, except for what your pussy would look like. Wooyoung wanted to know.

Yunho glanced at his friend. How did he know you?

“Oh? Well if it isn’t, Mr. Arrogant.” You gracefully stepped your whole body onto the platform, circling around the pole while playing with the little crystal studded purse you brought with you.

Your words made Jongho chuckle.

“You work here?” It was a dumb question, Wooyoung knew that.

“What does it look like?” You shrugged your shoulders cutely before throwing your tiny purse to the curved platform behind them where you could play around some more if you wanted to.

“How long have you been working here?” Hongjoong asked, taking your attention from Wooyoung.

Smiling his way, you slowly sunk to your knees and ran your hand on your left thigh where your purple lace garter was.

The man before you smirked knowing what you were silently telling him.

Hongjoong dug into the inner pocket of his blazer and in between his fingers was a 50 Zaire bill. He leaned forward and without touching your skin, slipped the bill beneath the garter.

“Three months.” You answered him, sensually getting up to lean against the pole with your arms over your head, elongating your body for their viewing pleasure.

“I like your wig.” Jongho commented, eying you with a knowing gaze.

“Thank you.”

Wooyoung watched as you moved seductively on the pole, unaware of how San became completely relaxed and excited at the same time.

“Does all of this turn you on?” Wooyoung asked, eyes raking your body and feeling his throat dry at how drawn he was to you.

“Sometimes.” You purred nonchalantly, bending over a little to show the arch of your pretty back before expertly twirling around the pole.

“Earlier…were you lying to me?” He leaned forward, elbows on his thighs as he tried to meet your gaze.

“No.” You replied, locking eyes with the man in the middle whose hair matched your wig.

He lowered his shades close to the end of his nose, his eyes locking with yours and sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’re a good dancer. I had fun.” You admitted still looking at the tall man before you even though you were addressing Wooyoung.

“Are you having fun now?” San asked, surprising Wooyoung that he was interacting with you, his cat like eyes set on you and no one else.

“Because I’m here with eight handsome men rather than the sleazy ones? Yes I’m having fun.” You stepped your heel onto the plush couch, the men making space for you as you stood between Mingi and Wooyoung, your gaze down at Mingi who looked at you with stars in his eyes while the one behind you, going crazy with desire let his eyes wander.

Placing your hand delicately on Mingi’s shoulder, you slowly bent over, giving Wooyoung and Jongho the view of the back of your legs, your ass and your clothed cunt.

“I thought there’s a no touching rule.” Yeosang spoke, feeling himself grow hot, knowing the body his seeing all too well.

“I can touch any of you while I do my business since that’s what I was paid for but none of you can touch me unless I say so. So keep your hands to yourselves unless you’re putting a bill under the garter.”

You traced your finger along the side of your thigh, knowing full well that Wooyoung was watching your every move more intently than the others.

“Are you flirting with us?” Wooyoung licked his lips, mind racing with thoughts of kissing and feeling your skin.

“Maybe.” You winked at Mingi, making him smirk.

“Are you allowed to flirt with us?” Yunho asked this time and you moved to perch yourself on the platform/back rest of the couch.

“Yes I can flirt with you,” you nodded, placing your hands on your closed knees.

Wooyoung driven by desire, took out a 100 Zaire bill from his wallet and waved it your way.

“Open your legs.”

You obliged him, opening them an inch apart, entertained by how impatient he was with your teasing behavior.

“Wider.”

A little bit more.

“Make this worth all our time, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes at his demanding yet bratty tone, you surprised them all by spreading your legs wide, unfolding them into a flexible split on the surface you were on.

“Fuck,” San swore under his breath.

Wooyoung revealed to you another 100 bill. “Show me.”

Looking him dead in the eyes, you pulled your purple panties to the side, revealing your bare mound to their eyes. Some of them swore, some of them let out a groan and some of them just continued to look while they bite their lip. All of their reactions made you suppress an amused giggle, you kind of feel bad for them but you kept a straight face, not wanting to give Wooyoung the satisfaction of winning in the cat and mouse game you were playing.

“Oh baby,” Jongho cooed lowly, the familiarity of the pet name causing a chink in your armor.

“By the way, we can’t fuck.” You threw the rule out there, enjoying the way the handsome man you danced with was breaking at the seams.

“Why not?” Wooyoung scoffed, eyes on the pretty pink folds of your pussy.

“I’m a stripper not a whore.” You adjusted the panties back to cover you and you closed your legs, deciding to crawl to the side where Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho and Yeosang was.

“Like I told you earlier,” you could feel Wooyoung’s eyes on your ass. “Not everyone gets that privilege.”

Mingi swiped the bills from Wooyoung’s hand and handed it over to Yeosang, who nicely slips it beneath the garter. You thanked him.

“Now, Captain,” you turned to Hongjoong, who was looking at you with his signature smirk and his pretty brown eyes shimmering with amusement. “Tell me, where on earth did you find this arrogant, cocky and bratty thing?”

Wooyoung frowned at the sudden shift in your tone. The way you spoke with Hongjoong was as if you two were familiar with one another.

“Blame, Yeosang.” Hongjoong sipped his whiskey.

“He’s not as bad as you think, love.” Yeosang sweetly spoke to you, his hand moving to tuck a strand of your wig behind your ear to get a better look at you.

“He’s just a little dramatic,” Mingi inputted, tapping at his thigh and like a pet called to their master, you moved yourself to Mingi’s lap, straddling his hips.

“More dramatic than you?” You pouted cutely, running your hands through his pink hair. “So…how long did it take you all to know it was me?”

“Not long. We know your voice anywhere.” Seonghwa answered, quietly admiring you with just a small smile on his face. “But it is a big surprise to find you here out of all places.”

“Hi baby,” you couldn’t hold back your smile anymore as you cupped Mingi’s face with your hands. “Did you miss me?”

“More than you could possibly fathom.” Mingi replied, leaning in to kiss you but you leaned back.

“You can’t kiss me. Well…not here. They’re watching.” You tilted your head to where Jongho sat. “They can see us but they can’t hear us.”

“There’s CCTV on the right corner of the ceiling.” San told the group.

“W-wait. Wait a god damn fucking minute.” Wooyoung exclaimed, looking at you, settled on Mingi’s lap like you belonged there. Were you Mingi’s girl? What were you doing in a place like this? “You all know her?”

You pursed your glossed lips and turned to them, feigning hurt. “You guys didn’t tell him about me?”

“It was a topic that didn’t come up.” Yunho admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s not our fault anyways, Mingi was gatekeeping you.” Jongho added, making the big man in front of you pout, a reaction that made Wooyoung reel at the sight. It was unfamiliar to see their intimidating gunner all soft and not…scary?

“When did he join?”

“Three months after you departed on your mission. We had to make a stop at Jupiter and Wooyoung recognized Yeosang, and he followed him, and now he’s one of us.” Seonghwa answered, eying the size difference between you and Mingi.

“And none of you mentioned me?”

“Mingi was gatekeeping you.” Jongho repeated, making everyone but Wooyoung laugh. He was still trying to grasp the new information of how you were Mingi’s lover and a member of the crew???

“Sure he was.” You rolled your eyes, moving from Mingi’s lap to the round platform to continue your little show for them.

“What are you doing undercover here?” Hongjoong asked, placing another bill on the platform to keep up with appearances and you bent over sensually to pick it up.

Was Mingi okay with this? Wooyoung glanced with wide eyes at their gunner. Was he okay with all of them seeing you like this?

Mingi was watching you with desire. He was reclined so comfortably on the couch, his thighs spread apart as he bit his plump lips at the sight of you entertaining them in the sexy skimpy number you wore. Was this a kink of his? Wooyoung wondered, unable to stop the way his face scrunched at his many unanswered questions.

“Because the information Vix won’t give you, I was able to get.” You told Hongjoong with a smile, and the leaders smirk morphed into a grin. “It’s amazing how flowery words and too much alcohol was all it took. I didn’t even have to take my top off.”

“Good cause I would’ve gauged his fucking eyes out if he saw what was mine.” Mingi growled, hands closing into fists to restrain himself from holding you to him.

“Will you?” Jongho confidently suggested with smirk.

“Will I what?” You coyly smiled, acting innocent.

“Take your top off?”

“Was seeing my pussy not enough for you?”

Wooyoung couldn’t believe the conversation flowing in front of him. He was painfully hard but his confusion and shock had his mind a mess. He didn’t know what thought to entertain or what he wanted to ask.

“Nothing is ever enough when it comes to you, doll.” Mingi muttered, tilting his head a little to the side as if to get a better look at you.

“So you have what I want?” Hongjoong casually glanced at the CCTV keeping watch of all of you.

“Yes I do. The timing of everything is kind of funny. It was Vix I was supposed to be dancing for tonight,” you told them, twirling around the pole. “I was going to get rid of him for you since he’s not of use anymore then I would’ve found a way to get to Xeres since that was your next destination for a restock of supplies on the ship.”

“Well it seems destiny is always in our favor.”

“So shall I finish him off?” San asked, rolling up the sleeves of his button up.

“Will he be any trouble to us if we let him live, angel?” Seonghwa turned to you, licking his lips when you were on your knees, sitting prettily before them.

“He’s not much of a threat. We should be more worried about his boss because he asked for me after I finish with you boys.”

Seonghwa leaned over to add more bills to your garter and San’s defensive posture softened.

“Which is why I’m amazed at the timing of finding all of you here tonight.”

“Is it the first time he’s asked for you?”

They saw your eyes flicker with fear for a split second and you shook your head.

“But he scares me.”

Mingi and San’s aura darkened at your words. It took a lot for you to be scared by someone.

“He knows a lot of things he shouldn’t know. He mentioned and boasted about the Academy when I met him. I was sure then that my cover was going to be blown.”

“So what’s the plan now?”

“Well since I hacked into his data systems earlier in his penthouse just above this club and took more than I came for. At exactly 2:27 am, the club will black out and we can make our escape then through the back door here thats used usually by the dancers to get in and out quicker for shifts.”

“What did you take other than the information about where the Cromer could be?” Hongjoong called your attention while his hand raised slightly in a gesture that the rest understood except for Wooyoung.

“Jongho, can you please hand me my purse please?”

They watched as you opened the bedazzled flap of the purse and took the bills beneath your garter and stuffed them inside, giving Hongjoong a glimpse of a glowing crystal that was one of the most sought after items of the galaxy.

Hongjoong only shook his head with a smile and you decided to turn to the new crew member.

“So, Wooyoung, right?”

He was caught off guard by your sudden attention.

“It’s nice to meet you and I hope we can get along well,” you warmly smiled at him, your pretty face glowing beneath the colored lights.

“Two minutes,” San checked the time on his watch.

“Oh, fun.” You giggled, sitting on the edge of the platform.

“Can you even make a run in those?” Wooyoung glanced at your very high heels, trying to remove the image of your pretty pink pussy that you had flashed to them.

He remembered your exchange from earlier.

What do you taste like?

Like heaven.

It was against his morals to want to fuck someone that was someone else’s lover. You were Mingi’s and Wooyoung couldn’t deny the fact that he was burning with jealousy with the thought of you being touched by Mingi.

“She could kill in those,” Yeosang answered for you. “So back door?”

“End of the hall, camouflaged with the wall.”

“I missed you so much baby.” Mingi groaned getting up and placing his large hands on your waist.

“Me too. More than you know.” Your voice softened, no longer in the facade of the identity you’ve been using.

“Ten seconds.” San announced.

“I’m not gonna let you run around like this.” Mingi slid his hands to your hips, biting his lip at the tiny piece of underwear covering the heaven between your thighs.

“Here, Y/N.” Yunho handed you his blazer. “Wear that.”

“Thank you, Yuyu.”

His blazer was like a dress on you and it made you look so tiny. Wooyoung pushed his hair back, trying to ease his frustration of both lust and knowing too late about who you are. He was also a little scared of how and when Mingi will confront him later because he was flirting with you.

“Good to have you back, Y/N.” Was all Hongjoong said before the whole establishment was enveloped in darkness and the nine of you made your escape.

A small squeak came from you in the darkness because Mingi had thrown you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing, and he carried you easily as you all made your exit.

When the bouncer, one of Vix’s goons, checked the room when the power came back on, he began to sweat nervously at the emptiness he was met with. He was going to be in big trouble.

Jongho hijacked a black van and used it to drive the nine of you to where the ship was docked, which was going to be a solid thirty minutes to get to.

Your soft giggles was a pleasant sound to all their ears as Mingi was all over of you in the back of the van.

“We’re glad to have our favorite girl back.” Seonghwa smiled fondly, watching as Mingi attacked your neck with kisses and his hands tickled your sides causing the very missed melodious laughter to fill the van.

The Vice Captain looked to his left to check on the members all of them well and in one piece minding their own business and checking the parameter if anyone was chasing the crew. Seonghwa spotted Wooyoung staring at you and Mingi through the tinted windows, his Adam’s apple bobbing deeply as he swallowed what he could see was envy mixed with desire.

“You okay there?” He quietly asked their new member.

“Huh? What?” Wooyoung responded as if broken out from a trance. “Oh,I- uh, I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Y-yeah. Just…” he paused wondering if he could confide in Seonghwa but the handsome older man’s gentle eyes was hard to say no to. “Just shocked that’s all.” He decided to not share his deep feelings.

Seonghwa knew and could tell that Wooyoung was attracted to you, and he knew he was feeling conflicted for feeling that way especially after seeing how you and Mingi acted.

Wooyoung gave him a small smile before turning to the window again, staring at the buildings they passed by.

As Seonghwa left him with his thoughts, he wondered how he was going to break it to their newest member the true nature of the crews relationship with you. How kind of unorthodox it was….How Mingi was not your only lover but theirs as well.

taglist : @endeav0rsb1tch @eastleighsblog @scarfac3

Thank you for reading! Make sure to like and reblog hehe 💕

#luvtokki;sway with me #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ot8 ateez x reader #ateez au #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez imagines #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #yeosang x reader #yunho x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #jongho x reader

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azsazz · 3 months

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Midnight Muse (Part 14)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3,355

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Masterlist]

Notes: Okay I'm a lil sad for my baby azzy in this part 😭

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“Listen kid,” the tattoo artist across the table from him sighs, and Azriel already knows what’s going to come out of his mouth.

This interview hadn’t been going well since he stepped through the door to Steppes Ink. The guy who was supposed to be conducting the interview for an apprenticeship at the parlor—a lanky lad tatted up with the worst ink Azriel’s ever seen…is that a clock dripping blood for fucks sake?—had forgotten he was even giving an interview today.

He—Brad? Chad? Something or other, he suspects—hadn’t listened to a word Azriel said when he spoke about his time tattooing. That it was his passion. That he wants to make a career out of it. Instead, the guy had kicked his sneaker clad feet up onto the edge of the table and flipped through his portfolio, not allowing Azriel to speak on his work.

He’d seen the look the fucker had given him when he’d pulled his portfolio out of his bag. The way he stared openly at his latex gloved hands as he held the book out, stuffed full of drawings and pictures of tattoos he’s given both at parties and his art focused study groups.

Azriel thinks it’s an impressive show of skill, but this fucker doesn’t.

He doesn’t even want to apprentice here anyway, not after all of this, but he’s running out of tattoo parlors to apply to in town. He’s not against driving out to the next town over because he has a reliable source of transportation, but driving all the way out after his classes is something he’d rather not have to do.

Azriel sets his jaw. He’s more than ready to pack his things and leave, maybe swing a fist at the fucker on his way out. He had been ready to go when the second comment out of this shithead's mouth was, “Taking cleanliness to a whole new level there, ey kid?” In response to his gloved hands. He’s glad he’d worn them, because he knows if he hadn’t, it would’ve been something much more insulting spewing from his lips instead.

He’s had better interviews with the same result. The fact that he keeps putting himself through this shows his determination, but Azriel would be lying if he said that the plethora of no’s he receives wasn’t disheartening. He feels like he’s come a long way since his accident, when he’d essentially had to relearn how to hold his pencils, charcoal sticks, and tattoo gun.

All of that pride he felt is slowly deteriorating like an ages old painting.

“I think you’re very talented with your sketches, but it’s not translating into your tattoos,” the man starts, scratching his patchy beard. He sucks his teeth, but it doesn’t help get rid of the cluster of food jammed between them that Azriel has been talking to for the past forty minutes. Yeah, he really does not want to work here. Not only is this guy disgusting, he’s seen at least three violations the second he walked into the parlor alone.

Imagine if he had to put up with this shit everyday.

The man continues, because he doesn’t really know how to shut up. “Your lines are all jagged, and we can’t have that. I’d be happy to look at your work again next semester when you have a little more experience.”

No. Fucking. Thanks.

Azriel grinds his teeth because he doesn’t know what else to do. How many times has he heard this line before? He knows, Mother help him he fucking knows that his lines aren’t the straightest, but he’s come a long way, and his more recent tattoos aren’t suffering because of it.

Why won’t anyone just give him a fucking chance?

“I understand,” Azriel nods, and it takes a lot more effort to keep his tone neutral when he replies.

He’s thankful that the guy can’t see how white-knuckled his fists are under the table.

“What made you want to get into tattooing, anyway?” The man flips his portfolio shut with a harsh snap. The way he says it makes Azriel feel like he’s about to be told that he should find a backup plan. He has one already, but this fucker doesn’t need to know that.

Who does this guy think he is anyway? He has a bleeding clock and a lion head on his arm for fucks sake. It even has a mechanical eye. And he’s sure that if he lifts the sleeves of his cut off flannel, he’ll be showing a plethora of gears forever marked onto his pale skin, too.

“Every tattoo has a story,” Azriel answers, because it’s something he believes with his whole heart, and maybe, just maybe, this fucker can relate to that.

The idiot has the audacity to cock his head, questioningly. “Is that so?”

“The one’s I get do,” Azriel responds stiffly, and he hopes that this interview is over because he can’t bear to sit here a moment longer. What’s with all of the follow up questions? He’s already said no, so why the fuck is he still interrogating him?

Azriel is being looked at like he’s some dumb college kid with no idea what he wants to do with his life, and he fucking hates that. He knows exactly what he wants to do once he graduates, and that’s to be a tattoo artist, hence trying to find an apprenticeship at a local shop. Right now, he’s starting to wonder if all of the shop owners have meetings together where they talk about the kid in black gloves and tell each other not to hire him.

Either way, he’s beyond fucking annoyed.

“Well, I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me,” Azriel says, gathering his things. The guy looks at his gloved hands again and he knows that the question is on the tip of his tongue so he hurries, shoving his portfolio into his bag and standing from his chair.

“No problem kid. Like I said, work on it and maybe next semester—”

“Right,” Azriel forces a smile like he’s never had to before. It feels like cutting steel, and he’s sure it looks more threatening than genuine. “Thanks.”

He dips out of the shop before the fucker can ask anymore questions.

He’s glad he didn’t even care to remember his name.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The wind against his body and the rumble of his motorcycle makes things slightly better.

Azriel tries to let the interview roll off of his shoulders with the current pressing against his body, but it just isn’t happening.

Usually, he enjoys the ride. The way taking the curves a little too fast makes his heart stutter in a rapid pace, the smooth asphalt beneath his wheels wiping his worries away, but there’s something about tonight that has him feeling like he’d rather just put on some music, wallow in his bed, and work on his sketches.

He’ll show that fucker.

It had gone shittier than all of the other interviews he’s had. Four, to be specific. Four interviews, where three of them had mentioned his shaky linework, two of them had told him to come back next semester, and one had been conducted by a total fucking idiot.

His hands are shaking now, memories of the accident dredged up from the way the last interviewer was staring at him. He can still feel his beady gaze on his hands, like he was some fucking specimen to be examined under a microscope. Maybe if Azriel had peeled back the latex and showed him the damage of his scars, the guy would’ve left him the fuck alone.

He knows that that’s not how it would’ve gone, though. Guys like him always ask more questions, and Azriel does not want to repeat that story to someone like that.

His gloves are still on, clenched tightly around his handlebars. He can’t ride like this, needs to stop, but he’s two blocks from his apartment now and he just wants to be home.

The fact that he can still feel the phantom touch of your body pressed up close to him every time he rides his bike now helps distract him. It subconsciously eases the trembling in his hands, and Azriel relaxes only slightly. He still doesn’t like you, but the way your thighs had pressed so firmly around his body had felt like being completely doused in warmth. He hadn’t even needed his jacket while the cold rain pounded down on the both of you, because with your chest pressed tightly against his back, your hands around his waist, he was nearly sweating.

He wonders if you had felt the same. Like there was lightning zipping up your rigid spine. If your heart was thundering as loudly as his. If you just wanted to keep going like he did, pass the town up and go on to the next—

Azriel nearly passes the apartment building whilst he’s distracted. Cassian’s big, beat up bronco is a red flag waving at him from its usual spot in front of the building. Literally, the crimson rust bucket is an eyesore, and he’s surprised they haven’t gotten any complaints from the landlord about it bringing the value of the building down.

He jerks to a stop and backs his motorcycle up in front of the truck. Always parking in the closest to the corner, Cassian had said, so that no one can block him in. Azriel hadn’t known if it had been a slight jab from when he’d trapped your and Feyre’s moving truck in on your first day here, but he’d laughed nonetheless.

There are people wandering in and out of the building. Giggling groups of girls and guys carrying racks of beers on their shoulders, hooting and hollering, eye-fucking the girls in their short skirts as they wait for the elevator. There’s parties up and down the building all weekend, and Azriel prays that for once, Cassian has decided to wander down a few floors to find a fuck instead of hosting another party.

His prayers are not answered.

When Azriel shoves through the stairwell out onto the fourth floor, the music hits him like a fucking truck. It’s bass-heavy, blaring down the hall like a goddamn rave. Internally, he groans, shoving his way through the people loitering in the hall, ignoring the more than interested looks he receives from a group of girls, staring him down like a pack of hungry hyenas.

Fuck, he really doesn’t want to deal with this right now.

It’s late enough that the pregame should be finishing soon, but knowing Cassian, it’s only just beginning.

Azriel had stopped off at the local diner for something sweet to take his mind off of the awful interview. It hadn’t helped his shakiness at all, the anger coursing through his veins, not even when his favorite waitress Rita had brought him a small fry on the house and put an extra cherry on top of his shake, then proceeded to sit with him for a bit to check in.

He loves Rita. He, Cassian, and Rhysand used to frequent the diner often during freshman year, when they had no transportation and were broke art students. Rita had always taken care of them, but now, the tradition seems to have dwelled as they’ve gotten older and are able to attend bars and have the money for restaurants that don’t only serve smash burgers and shakes.

Azriel’s pretty sure he’s the only one that still visits out of the three.

His apartment is packed to the brim. He can smell the alcohol and sweat in the air, the stench of it makes his nose scrunch. He could use a fucking drink right now, he thinks, but he doesn’t do it often because it only makes his hands shake more and that’s the last thing he needs right now.

Upon first glance he doesn’t see either of his roommates, and then Cassian is barrelling through the crowd as if he has a sixth sense for knowing when Azriel enters a room.

“Hey, man,” Cassian grins wildly, throwing his arm around his shoulder. The drink in his cup sloshes precariously close to the rim of his glass, and Azriel grimaces. His roommates eyes are blurry with drink, and he’s swaying a bit, leaning his body weight against him. Hopefully, he hasn’t tripped and crushed anyone with his sheer size, because it wouldn’t bode well for the person trapped beneath the behemoth. “Are you setting up tonight? There’s these two chicks that want to get tatted up. Underboob.” Cassian waggles his eyebrows and grins like he’s just caught a glimpse of heaven. “Matching.”

“Not in the mood,” Azriel grunts, pushing past his roommate. He hates every second of shoving through this crowd, bodies plastered against his own like the ink on his arms. He wonders if the loud music is bothering you on the other side of the thin wall, and then he shoves that thought straight from his mind because he doesn't care.

He does care that it’s bothering him, though.

Azriel digs his keys from his pocket. The lock on his door was added after their first party and he’d found a couple right about about to fuck on his bed.

He’s the only one that gets to do that, even if he hasn’t touched another girl in months. He’s been too much of a surly bastard to even want to pursue a girl, and he knows they wouldn’t want him touching them with his fucked up hands, despite the glowing eyes feeding off of his appearance in the hall.

Someone bumps into him and he nearly smacks his head into the door. Azriel chokes back the growl threatening to crawl from his throat, and decides against whirling around to bark at whoever’s run into him. His grip on the knob tightens.

There’s a soft light emitting from his room when he opens the door, the lamp beside his bed glowing. Azriel releases an exasperated huff, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders, but it skyrockets when he notices the lump tucked tightly into his covers.

It’s you, and you’re in his bed.

Two thoughts pass through his mind so quickly he can hardly discern one from the other.

One, what the fuck are you doing in his bed?

And two, who the fuck let you in his room?

Okay, so the second question is easier to answer than the first. It’s obvious that Cassian must have let you into his room, because he’s pretty sure the fucker had made a copy of the key the second day he’d put the lock on his door. Azriel hadn’t let him in when he’d been trying to get him to smell four different colognes he got as samples in a magazine, so his roommate took it into his own hands to make sure Azriel could never be in his room in peace.

The first question, however, makes no sense. You live right next door for fucks sakes, so what the fuck are you doing here?

Azriel stares. He can’t help himself, he’s frozen in the doorway until Cassian’s belting voice complaining about the pop song that the playlist has switched to snaps him from his stupor. He ducks inside of his room, shoving the door shut behind him, and flicking the lock.

He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.

He’s staring at your sleeping form like you’re only pretending to sleep, armed with a weapon and hoping he comes closer. You’ll pop out at him and scare the shit out of him and then Rhys will fall out of the closet laughing and Cassian will burst through the door, falling to his knees in hysterics.

But you’re not moving. You’re curled up on your side, and a metal mixing bowl sits on the table next to his bed, the small stack of books that is normally stacked there spilled haphazardly, one face down on the floor.

There’s a glass of water next to the bowl, and Azriel doesn’t like that it sits so close to his books, despite it being only half full.

His bag falls from his shoulder and he slings it over the back of his desk chair, all while keeping his eyes pinned to your sleeping form. His dark sheets rise and fall shallowly with each breath you take, your lips parted slightly, unbothered by the intrusion and the loud music shaking the walls.

You must be used to it by now.

This is weird. This is so fucking weird that Azriel doesn’t even know what to do with himself but his feet move him closer to the bed against his better judgement. No, this is fucking beyond creepy now, with him looming over you like this, watching you sleep.

His fingers itch and he rips the gloves off of his hands, tossing the latex into the trash by his desk. His fingers flex, and Azriel gulps down a fresh breath of air now that his sweating hands can breathe.

Doing so doesn’t stop that feeling, though. The one where he wants to feel that familiar pencil in his hand, charcoal coating his fingers. There’s a blooming in his mind, inspiration swiping the foulness of his interview away. He need to grab his sketchbook and flip it to a clean page and start drawing the curve of your—

No. He scolds himself, shaking his head furiously and backing away. He trips over your shoes, discarded in a pile on the floor, but he doesn’t eat shit. Maybe if he did it would help clear his mind from this. The way your presence has painted over his tainted night, when he should be more angry to see you occupying his space, but instead, he feels more intrigued.

Fuck. He shouldn’t be looking at the way his sheet is draped across your body. You’re still clothed, and Azriel is more than thankful for that. He shouldn’t be admiring your quiet, peaceful side, not when he’s so used to seeing that crease between your brows and frown tugging your lips whenever he’s around. He shouldn’t be brushing the strand of hair falling across your face behind your ear—

Azriel jerks his hand away from you. He hadn’t realized that he’d moved closer, had been leaning in like what? Like he was going to caress that smooth skin of yours? No, that’s not happening. Now or ever.

He bolts from his room, but not before making sure he locks it behind him. He feels frantic again, like his skin is stretched too tight over his bones. He needs to find Rhys because the music is making his head spin and he’s so, so close to spiraling right now.

Stumbling through the living room to the other side of the apartment, Azriel reaches Rhysand’s door. He hopes it’s unlocked, because being alone right now sounds even better than having to be around anyone right now.

It’s fucking locked.

Azriel pounds on the door. There’s an urgency to it that Rhysand must hear, because he’s cracking the door open a bit and Azriel is met with his glowing violet eyes and naked chest.

“What’s up Az? I’m a little…busy at the moment.”

He doesn’t need to peek over his shoulder to know that Feyre’s waiting for him in his bed right now.

“I, ah—nothing man. It’s nothing,” he mumbles, turning away from the door. None of his questions are being answered. If everyone's over here, why is no one at your apartment? Why aren’t you in your own bed? “What the fuck,” he grumbles, scanning the crowd of gyrating bodies in the middle of his living room.

He spots Cassian somewhere near the middle, a group of girls rubbing their bodies up against his. They’re so close together they look like a pack of sardines, and Cassian is their king. He’s laughing, making suggestive eyes at at least three of them.

Sometimes, Azriel wishes he was that carefree.

With nothing else to do, he makes his way to the kitchen.

He needs a fucking drink.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Midnight Muse Taglist: @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r

#midnight muse #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #modern!azriel #tattoo artist!azriel #artist!azriel #art school au #acotar au

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overallrry · 7 months

Text

harry styles “enemies to lovers” fics

✩ all credit to the authors ✩

series

teenage dirtbag (jarofstyles)

series masterlist

He’s just a teenage dirtbag and she hates to love it. Or, Fratrry!

aster (moonchildstyles)

1 2 3 4 5

harry is a tattoo and y/n just wants to know if he's like this all the time or if he just doesn't like her

young american (0nlythrowharrybeaux)

series masterlist

Y/N get’s offered the opportunity of a lifetime, an apprenticeship at English Graffiti, world renowned tattoo artist, Eddie Chan’s first American shop. However, an unnerving rivalry brews between her and one of Eddie’s old apprentices and best artists, Harry Styles.

roxy's record store (0nlythrowharrybeaux)

series masterlist

Harry and Y/N don’t get along despite their tight knit friend group. Amidst the fights and make-ups some lines get blurred and they just need to figure out what they want and where they stand.

Harry and Y/N are in the same ballet class, and they hate each other (jawllines)

1 2 3 4

“Hey, maybe it will do you both some good! You especially –”

“Niall.”

“– it might help your obsession with her.”

“Niall,” Harry repeats, a warning this time, “I’m not obsessed with her, I can’t fucking stand her. This is not going to work,” he shook his head, “There’s no way we’ll be able to stomach each other for more than ten minutes at a time, how the hell are we supposed to practice together?”

Niall shrugged, “Have you ever considered, I don’t know, not being a dick to her?”

reluctant hearts (duhstyles)

series masterlist

in which Harry and y/n are forced to work together on a project despite their mutual hatred for one another.

checkmate (enthusiasticharry)

series masterlist

After being taught by her grandfather at a young age how to play chess, YN finds herself being catapulted into a world where she rises to stardom as one of the greatest chess players of all time. As she rises to stardom, YN starts to play more tournaments, and doing so, she finds herself meeting the world renowned chess player: Harry Styles. YN finds him arrogant and has no time for him, until she does. She learns that he has all the time in the world for her, and she finally starts lets her walls down to him. The two of them go through the trials and tribulations of trying to navigate a new relationship that they won’t admit to being in, as well as the trials and tribulations of chess championships and the stress that can entail on ones mind.

one shots

gurugirl

tell me you hate me

#enemies to lovers harry styles #harry styles enemies to lovers #harry styles fic recs #harry styles

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gaslightgatekeepgirlbosscombat · 6 months

Text

Group D, Round 2, Poll 5:

Propaganda under the cut

Miss Piggy

She is the queen of Girlbossing. She lies to get what she wants, and keeps out any she thinks isn't worthy of what she has to offer. She is perhaps the original Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss.

Darth Revan

Savior. Hero. Conqueror. Villain. They managed to steal half of the republics fleet. Make their own empire. Get kidnapped and brainwashed to forget their identity, and still manage to be the most powerful person in the galaxy.

Gaslight: 1) Rallied many young jedi knights to their cause in Mandalorian Wars which made them disregard council's worries that there are something even more sinister on the horizon. They all save for an Exile either died or fall to the dark side. 2) Gaslighted ancient tribal amphibians to let them pass in the temple to destroy Star Forge while actually planning to use it themselves. 3) Jedi mind trick. Just jedi mind trick. 4) Laughed so hard at his personal killer robot describing his best friend with "meatbag" (and Malak being greatly upset by it) that decided to programm said assassin droid to refer to all organics as "meatbag". Gatekeep: 1) Closer to the end of Mandalorian Wars become much more pragmatic and ruthless locating those Republic (allied!) forces and jedi who weren't loyal to him enough near an orbit of Malachor so when Mass Shadow Generator was activated it wiped both Mandalorian and Republic ships simultaneously leaving Revan's fleet mostly unscathed and other too destroyed/suffering heavy losses. Well not so much for wiped more like crashed on the surface of planet destroying it with it's inhabitants too. 2) Didn't tell anyone about Star Maps and Star Forge (except for best friend Malak with whom they discovered it) - almost omnipotent shipyard capable of creating countless ships/droids/whatever needed for war effort. Girlboss: 1) The ultimate reason Republic didn't fall to Mandalorian neocrusaders. 2) Survived (albeit with Bastila's help) a heavy cannon strike on the flagship's bridge. 3) Were cool even with total amnesia, then remembered who they were and depending on player killed their ex-apprentice and reclaimed the mantle of the dark lord or stopped the maniacal tyrant of ex-bestfriend and became the Prodigal Knight.

#round 2 #group d #Miss Piggy #The Muppets #darth revan #revan #kotor #runner's note: good luck. I am waiting for RemyIanthe level of absurd fight

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apollosgiftofprophecy · 7 months

Text

Statistics of Apollo's Lovers

I was wondering just how unfortunate of a love-life our boy Apollo had, so - as one does - I did the research, math, and writing of said love-life.

such is the life of an adhd teen :)

In total, there are 59 people on this list. I have them separated into eight groups; Immortal, Immortal & Rejected, Lived, Died, Rejected & Died, Rejected & Cursed, Rejected & Lived, and who were Rejected by Apollo

Disclaimer: I am not a historian nor an expert in Greek Mythology, I am just a very invested nerd in Mythology, and in Apollo's mythology in general, and got curious about what his rap sheet actually looks like.

Sidenote: There will be some "lovers" not on this list. Reasons being;

No actual literary sources behind them

Said literary sources are dubious at best

Not enough information is given about the nature of their relationship to make an accurate take

So if somebody isn't on this list, it's because of one of those three reasons. Although there is still a chance I missed somebody! :)

Also, no RRverse lovers include in this list. Sorry my fellow ToA fans.

(Edited 12/22/23 - Currently adding in sources/references)

Let's begin! :D

Immortal Lovers

Calliope: muse of epic poetry. Mother of Hymenaios by Apollo.

Clio: muse of history

Erato: muse of love poetry

Euterpe: muse of music

Polyhymnia: muse of hymns/sacred poetry

Melpomene: muse of tragedy

Thalia: muse of comedy. Mother of the Corybantes by Apollo.

Terpsichore: muse of dance

Urania: muse of astronomy

Boreas: the North Wind. yes Apollo apparently dated the North Wind. Who knew? It's mentioned in the Argonautica by the Boreads - they call Apollo "beloved of their father" so...hmm. wonder what happened there because that's all we get.

10 lovers total here.

9 Female, 1 Male

Immortal & Rejected

Hestia: goddess of the Hearth

1 Interest. Female.

Lovers Who Lived:

Branchus: mortal shepherd, gifted prophecy

Rhoeo: mortal princess, eventually married an apprentice of Apollo

Ourea: demigod daughter of Poseidon, dated Apollo during his punishment with Laomedon; had a son named after the city of Troy

Evadne: nymph daughter of Poseidon, Apollo sent Eileithyia & (in some texts) the Fates to aid in their son's birth

Thero: great-granddaughter of Heracles, described as "beautiful as moonbeams"

Cyrene: mortal princess-turned-nymph queen, kick-ass lion wrangler, and mother of two of Apollo's sons - Aristaeus (a god) and Idmon (powerful seer)

Admetus: mortal king, took great care of Apollo during his second punishment, Apollo wingmanned him for Alcestis's hand - basically Apollo doted on him <3

Hecuba: queen of Troy, together they had Troilus.

It was foretold that if Troilus lived to adulthood, Troy wouldn't fall - unfortunately, Achilles murdered Troilus in Apollo's temple. When the Achaeans burned Troy down, Apollo rescued Hecuba and brought her to safety in Lycia.

Hyrie/Thyrie: mortal. mothered a son by Apollo. Their son, Cycnus, attempted to kill himself after some shenanigans and his mother attempted the same. Apollo turned them into swans to save their lives.

Dryope: mortal. had a son named Amphissus with Apollo, who was a snake at the time. Later turned into a lotus flower, but it had nothing to do with Apollo so she's still on this list.

Creusa: mortal queen. had a son named Ion with Apollo. Please check out @my-name-is-apollo's post for more details because they make some good points about what's considered "rape" in Ancient Greece.

Melia: Oceanid nymph. Had a son w/h Apollo named Tenerus. will expand on them in a bit

Iapis: a favorite lover. Apollo wanted to teach him prophecy, the lyre, ect. but Iapis just wanted to heal :) so Apollo taught him healing :)

Aethusa: daughter of Poseidon & the Pleiad Alcyone. Mother of Linus and Eleuther. She is the great-great grandmother of Orpheus.

Acacallis: daughter of King Minos. there's a lot of variation on whether or not she had kids with Hermes or Apollo. Some say she had a kid with each.

Chrysothemis: nymph queen who won the oldest contest of the Pythian Games - the singing of a hymn to Apollo. She had three daughters, and one of them is said to be Apollo's.

Corycia: naiad. had a son with Apollo. the Corycian Cave north of Delphi is named after her

Leuconoe (also Choine or Philonis): daughter of Eosphorus, god of the planet Venus, and mother of the bard Philammon.

Melaena (also Thyia or Kelaino): mother of Delphos, member of prophetic Thriae of Delphi. Priestess of Dionysus.

Othreis: mothered Phager by Apollo, and later Meliteus by Zeus.

Stilbe: mother of Lapithus and Aineus by Apollo.

Syllis (possible same as Hyllis, granddaughter of Heracles): mothered Zeuxippus by Apollo.

Amphissa: Apollo seduced her in the form of a shepherd. They had a son named Agreus.

Aria (or Deione): had a son named Miletus. Hid him in some smilax. Her father found him and named him.

Arsinoe: she and Apollo had a daughter named Eriopis.

Queen of Orkhomenos (no name is given): Mother of Trophonius (my fellow ToA fans will recognize that name haha).

Hypermnestra: Either Apollo or her husband fathered her son Amphiaraus. (sidenote: @literallyjusttoa suggested that Apollo was dating both Hypermnestra and Oikles, and I, personally, accept that headcannon)

Manto: Daughter of Tiresias. Apollo made her a priestess of Delphi. They had a son named Mopsus. When Apollo sent her to found an oracle elsewhere, he told her to marry the first man she saw outside of Delphi. That man turned out to be Rhacius, who brought her to Claros, where she founded the oracle of Apollo Clarios. Later, another man named Lampus attempted to assult her, but was killed by Apollo. She is also said to be a priestess who warned Niobe not to insult Leto, and to ask for forgiveness. Niobe did not.

Parthenope: granddaughter of a river god. Mothered Lycomedes by Apollo

Phthia: prophetess. called "beloved of Apollo". Mother three kings by him; Dorus, Laodocus, & Polypoetes

Procleia: Mother of Tenes, son of Apollo, who was killed by Achilles before the Trojan War. Daughter of King Laomedon, king of Troy.

Helenus: prince of Troy. Received from Apollo an ivory bow which he used to wound Achilles in the hand.

Hippolytus of Sicyon: called "beloved of Apollo" in Plutarch Life of Numa. I don't think this guy is the same as the Hippolytus, son of Zeuxippus (son of Apollo), king of Sicyon Pausanias talks about in his Description of Greece. That would be a little weird taking the whole family tree into account - though it's never stopped Zeus before, I guess.

Psamathe: nereid, said to be the personification of the sand of the sea-shore. There are two versions of her myths, both very different, but I'll only explain the one that explicitly states her and Apollo's relationship, which is by Conon's Narrationes. She and Apollo were lovers, but never had any kids. When another man assaulted her, she had a son and abandoned him. (He was found by some shepherds dw - wait, he was then torn apart by dogs. Nevermind.). Back to her, her father ordered for her to be executed and Apollo avenged her death by sending a plague onto Argos and refused to stop it until Psamathe and Linus (her son) were properly given honors.

(I really like how even though Linus isn't Apollo's kid, and that Psamathe wanted nothing to do with the kid, Apollo still considered him worth avenging too <3 )

(also would like to say that I found her on another's wiki page and that page said she was raped by Apollo - this just proves that you shouldn't take the wiki at face value because as shown above, that is not what happened.)

Alright. 34 lovers here.

5 Male. 29 Female.

33 are 100% consensual. Creusa is questionable, depending on who's translating.

The last one is Melia, who I will expand upon here.

Melia was said to be kidnapped, and her brother found her with Apollo. He set fire to Apollo's temple in an effort to get her back, but was killed. Melia and Apollo had two kids - but here's the interesting part. Melia was highly worshiped in Thebes, where her brother found her. She was an incredibly important figure in Thebes, especially when connected with Apollo. She and Apollo were essentially the parents of Thebes.

As I read over their story, it sounded like (to me, at least. it's okay if you think otherwise!) that Melia just absconded/eloped with Apollo.

Was kidnapping an equivalent to assault back then? Perhaps. But it's still debated on whenever or not that's true. However, one thing I've noticed reading up on these myths is that when Apollo does do something unsavory, the text says so.

It never says anything about Apollo doing anything to Melia. Her father and brother believe she was kidnapped, but, like mentioned previously, it seems far much more likely that she just ran off with her boyfriend or something.

But that's just my interpretation.

Moving on! :)

Lovers Who Died:

Hyacinthus*: mortal prince. we all know this one, right? Right? one and only true love turned into flower

Cyparissus: mortal. his DEER DIED and he asked Apollo to let him MOURN FOREVER so he was turned into a cypress tree

Coronis: mortal princess. cheated on Apollo w/h another guy. mother of Asclepius. killed by Artemis.

Adonis: yes, THAT Adonis. he's in this category because. well. he died. rip

Phorbas: at first I was going to keep him off, till I went "hOLD UP!". Listen, this guy's story is contradictory in Hyginus's De Astronomica - he's a rival of Apollo, then all of a sudden his (dead) lover. My first reaction was the above, then it was "OH MY GODS CANON ENEMIES TO LOVERS??? WITH DEATH???"

There's also a second account of Phorbas - he ended a plague on an island and became Apollo's lover that way, and when he died, Zeus turned him into a constellation - Ophiuchus.

(*In some texts, Hyacinthus was resurrected.)

6 lovers.

5 Male. 1 Female. All consensual.

Sidenote: QUIT BURYING THE GAYS GREECE!!!!

Love-Interests Who Rejected & Died:

Daphne: do i nEED to say anything? Nymph. turned into tree to escape.

Castalia*: Nymph. turned into spring to escape.

2 Interests. 1 debatable reliability.

2 Female.

(*Castalia's myth was written in 400 AD, VERY late in the myth cycle, and was strictly ROMAN. In every other case, the Castalian spring was already at Delphi before Apollo was born.)

Love-Interests Who Rejected & Cursed

Cassandra: mortal princess. Promised to date Apollo if she was given gift of prophecy. when he did, she rejected him and he cursed her to never be believed for her visions.

1 Interests.

1 Female.

Lover-Interests Who Rejected & Lived

Sinope: mortal. got Apollo to promise her anything; requested to remain a virgin. he obliged.

Marpessa: mortal princess, granddaughter of Ares. Idas, son of Poseidon, kidnapped her and Apollo caught up to them. Zeus had Marpessa chose between them, and she chose Idas, reasoning that she would eventually grow old and Apollo would tire of her.

Bolina: mortal. Apollo approached her and she flung herself off a cliff. He turned her into a nymph to save her life. Nothing happened between them, although some texts may say that she eventually dated him.

Ocroe/Okyrrhoe: nymph and daughter of a river god. asked a boatman to take her home after Apollo approached her. Apollo ended up turning the boat to stone and the seafarer into a fish.

Sibyl of Cumean: mortal seer. promised to date Apollo if she was given longevity as long as the amount of sand in her hand. he did, but she refused him.

5 Interests. All female.

Okyrrhoe's story is the only one with any iffy stuff, although, like stated in previous sections, when something iffy does occur, the text usually says so outright.

Rejected by Apollo:

Clytie*: Oceanid nymph. turned into a heliotrope to gaze at the sun forever after the rejection.

1 Advance. Female.

(*Clytie's story was originally about her affection for Helios. When Apollo got conflated with him, her story also changed.)

In Conclusion...

59 people total (includes Castalia & Clytie)

48 Women (81%). 11 Men (19%).

19% were Immortal (Including Lovers & Rejected)

66% Lived (Including Lovers & Rejected)

14% Died (Including Lovers & Rejected)

1% were Cursed

2% were Rejected by him

57 people total (Not including Castalia & Clytie)

46 Women (82%). 11 Men (18%).

18% were Immortal

68% Lived (Lovers & Rejected)

12% Died (Lovers & Rejected)

in that 12%, one was apotheosized - Hyacinthus.

Meaning 10% died permanently, while 2% were resurrected.

2% were Cursed

0% were Rejected by him

Additionally, I left off three male lovers and two female lovers - Atymnius, Leucates, Cinyras, Hecate, & Acantha.

Atymnius has no references to being Apollo's lover, only to Zeus's son Sarpedon.

Leucates is another male "lover" left off the rack - apparently he jumped off a cliff to avoid Apollo, but I couldn't find any mythological text to account for it. There is a cliff named similarly to him where Aphrodite went (by Apollo's advice) to rid herself of her longing for Adonis after his death. Also Zeus uses it to rid himself of his love for Hera before he cheats on her again.

Cinyras was a priest of Aphrodite on the island of Cyprus. He was also the island's king. Pindar calls him "beloved of Apollo" in his Pythian Ode. However, looking further into Cinyras's life throws a bit of a wrench into it. He's also cited to be a challenger to Apollo's skill, and either Apollo or Mars (Ares) kills him for his hubris.

(honestly, I kinda like the idea that Mars went into Big Brother Mode)

I did consider leaving him on the list, since technically you could argue it was a romance-gone-bad, but among every other source Cinyras is mentioned in, Pindar's the only one who puts a romantic label on him and Apollo.

Hecate, the goddess of magic and crossroads, is said to be the mother of Scylla (like, the sea-monster) by Apollo, but Scylla's parentage is one of those "no specific parents" ones, so I left her off the list.

Acantha has absolutely no classical references. There's a plant like her name, but she's a made-up myth, so she doesn't count.

(Of course, I could be wrong about any of these. Again, I'm not an expert.)

With all this in mind, this means Apollo's love life actually isn't as tragic as media portrays it, and he isn't as bad as Zeus or Poseidon in the nonconsensual area.

Does he still have those kinds of myths? Possibly, depending on which translation you decide to use for Creusa in Ion.

Even so, when you compare Apollo to basically every other Greek figure?

He's doing pretty damn good.

#ramblings of an oracle #greek mythology analysis #apollo #greek myths #greek gods #greek myth #ancient greece #still gonna tag this as toa #just because #;)#the trials of apollo #toa #trials of apollo

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