#jessica trail
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pc: Jessica Trail
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Short Review(s): Dethklok, Heads for the Dead, ROME, Starspawn of Cthulhu
Artist: Starspawn of Cthulhu
Album: The Cursed Vision
Label: Talheim Records Germany
Genre: Doom Metal
Release Date: January 31, 2023
Location: Italy
Starspawn of Cthulhu is a two-piece Lovecraft-themed Doom Metal band from Italy, and they’re absolutely fantastic! The sounds they produce are so unique it’s almost as if a Bard joined a Metal band.
The band says, “Lyrically, this album talks…
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#2023#Adult Swim#death metal#Dethklok#doom metal#Featured#Heads For The Dead#italy#Jessica Trail#Long Stretch#Luxembourg#melodic death metal#Neofolk#Rome#Starspawn of Cthulhu#Talheim Records Germany#Trisol Music Group#WaterTower Music
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I'm aware of the asexual Jessica Rabbit headcanon, and I wonder if Roger is also on the ace spectrum.
Is there a word for ace people who do sometimes feel sexual attraction, but only in situations where doing so would be humorous?
Because that's my headcanon for Roger. Bi, and some kind of grey-ace.
I can imagine Eddie watching Trail Mix-Up and seeing Roger's reaction to Jessica...
...and then having a conversation like this:
Eddie: You mean to tell me that you could have experienced sexual attraction at any time?
Roger:
#who framed roger rabbit#wfrr#roger rabbit#jessica rabbit#eddie valiant#trail mix-up#roger rabbit shorts#asexual headcanons#asexual jessica rabbit#ace jessica rabbit#asexual roger rabbit#ace roger rabbit#grey-ace roger rabbit#bi roger rabbit#asexual#graysexual#bi headcanons#bisexual
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"INTO THE WEST" (2005) - "Jacob Wheeler and the Awareness of Self"
"INTO THE WEST" (2005) – "JACOB WHEELER AND THE AWARENESS OF SELF"
Many people would usually consider the topic of Self Awareness when discussing New Age religions or Eastern mysticism. Characters from a Western television miniseries seems like the last thing anyone would think of when discussing the meaning of Self. Yet, a major character led me to consider this very topic, while re-watching Steven Spielberg’s 2005 miniseries about two families – Lakota and western Virginia - called "INTO THE WEST".
"Self" has been described as the essential self or the core of an individual. A person who has learned to live one’s life with a strong sense of Self is considered as someone who has achieved or come close to a level of self-actualization - namely, achieving personal growth through accepting the true core of oneself. If there is one character in "INTO THE WEST" who seemed to personify self-actualization, it was Thunder Heart Woman (Tonazin Carmelo and later Sheila Tousey), the Lakota woman who had married into the Wheeler family. I am not saying that Thunder Heart Woman was a person with no insecurities, personal demons or anything of the sort. But of all the major characters, she seemed to be more in tune of what and more importantly, who she was.
In the miniseries’ second episode titled, "Manifest Destiny", Thunder Heart Woman had seemed impervious to the Wheeler family's attitude toward her, during her immediate family’s short stay with her in-laws in Virginia. Even when faced with the disapproval of a German minister and fellow wagon immigrant called Preacher Hobbes (Derek de Lint), she remained impervious to his bigotry. At least according to her husband’s narrative. But this essay is not about Thunder Heart Woman. It is about one of the men in her life – the one love in her life, who managed to catch my attention. Namely one Jacob Wheeler (Matthew Settle and later John Terry).
The third of four brothers from a Virginia wheelwright family, Jacob Wheeler seemed very similar to his Lakota wife – the type of person that seemed to know his own mind. The miniseries’ first episode, ”Wheel to the Stars” revealed that Jacob’s Virginia family seemed to view him as a non-conformist . . . or oddball. He, in turn, regarded his hometown of Wheelerton, Virginia; his family and its profession with mild contempt. In short, this young Virginian was a fish out of water in 1825 America and he knew it. This would explain Jacob’s longing to see the world beyond his hometown and the eastern United States. He did not hesitate to express his enthusiasm for the West. After meeting mountain man James Fletcher (Will Patton), he immediately set out to achieve his desire to leave Wheelerton.
Possessing a talent for persuasion, Jacob managed to convince two of his brothers – Nathan (Alan Tudyk) and Jethro (Skeet Ulrich) – into joining his trek to the West. Jethro turned back at the last minute and Nathan ended up accompanying him. After Jacob and Nathan parted ways in St. Louis, the former caught up with Fletcher and famed mountain man, Jedediah Smith (Josh Brolin) and convinced the latter to allow him to accompany Smith’s expedition to California. I could probably list a number of examples of Jacob’s talent for persuasion, along with his exuberant and non-conformist nature. What I had failed to mention was that he possessed a strong and stubborn will to achieve what he desired. A perfect example of this was his determination to return to California after he, Smith and their fellow mountain men had been kicked out of the province by Mexican authorities. Not only did Jacob manage to achieve this goal, he did so at a great price. And yet . . . one of the interesting aspects of the Jacob Wheeler character is that despite possessing a strong will and extroverted nature, he also had certain vulnerable characteristics and insecurities. Especially insecurities. In both ”Wheel to the Stars” and ”Manifest Destiny”, Jacob’s relationships with his Wheelerton family and Thunder Heart Woman revealed just how insecure he could be.
Jacob seemed to have a rather peculiar relationship with his Virginia family. Despite regarding them with contempt for their provincial attitudes, he had also allowed their attitudes to bring out his own insecurities. His grandfather Abraham (Ken Pogue), his father Enoch (Serge Houde) and his three brothers – Nathan, Ezra (Joshua Kalef) and Jethro – either derided or teased him about his lack of interest in the family’s wheelwright business. And all of them viewed Jacob as a daydreamer with no sense of family duty or any common sense. The Wheelers have never hesitated to express their low opinion of Jacob’s desire to experience life beyond Wheelerton. I cannot help but wonder if the Wheelers’ contempt toward Jacob’s non-conformist ways had bred a sense of insecurity within him. Or if this insecurity was one of the reasons behind his desire to escape Wheelerton for the west.
It is possible that I may have stumbled across one result from Jacob’s less-than-ideal relationship with his Virginia family. I do not know if anyone else had noticed, but it seemed to me that whenever any of the other Wheelers teased, ranted or expressed contempt toward Jacob or his views on the West, he rarely bothered to defend himself. Jacob did not defend himself whenever his brothers mocked him at the dinner table.; when Jethro made the "tail tucked between your legs" comment, following Jacob’s return to Wheelerton in "Manifest Destiny"; and when Enoch accused him of luring both Nathan and later, Jacob to the West. Instead of defending himself, Jacob merely remained silent in an effort to ignore the hurtful comments.
However, there have also been moments when he did defend himself. Jacob made a snarky comment about his grandfather Abraham’s penchant for rambling on about his past as Revolutionary War veteran and the family’s business. And the elderly man reacted in such a vitriolic manner that I found myself wondering if Jacob had ended up with a new hole in his backside. When Nathan raged against him for helping an escaped slave named Ben Franklin (Sean Blakemore) in Tennessee, Jacob insisted they had done the right thing considering that Ben had earlier released Nathan after holding him hostage with a knife. And when Nathan lost his temper over Jacob’s refusal to follow him to Texas, the younger brother merely insisted upon continuing his intention to join Jedidiah Smith’s expedition.
One could only wonder why Jacob had rarely bothered to defend himself against his family’s scorn. Did he share Thunder Heart Woman’s talent for imperviously ignoring the scorn and prejudices of others? I rather doubt it. Whereas Thunder Heart Woman had seemed unconcerned by others, Jacob’s face tends to express his pain or embarrassment caused by his family’s attitudes. I suspect that deep down, Jacob longed for not only his family’s respect, but their acceptance of his true self. But unlike many people, he was not willing to change his nature for the Wheelers or anyone else’s acceptance.
Why did Jacob decide to return to Wheelerton with his pregnant wife and daughter after eleven years in the West? In his narration, Jacob claimed that he wanted Thunder Heart Woman and his daughter Margaret Light Shines (Elizabeth Sage, later Irene Bedard) to meet his Virginia family. Perhaps he was telling the truth. Yet, a part of me found that hard to believe. The moment Jacob began to enjoy his Lakota in-laws’ hospitality, he felt certain that his own family extend the same kind of warmth to his wife. And yet . . . he had insisted upon returning to Virginia. Why? Had Jethro hinted the truth in his "tail tuckered between his legs" comment – that Jacob encountered nothing but failure in the West and returned back to Virginia for a livelihood? Or was it something deeper? Perhaps a last chance for Jacob to seek final acceptance from his family? Who knows.
Whatever Jacob had sought in 1836 Virginia, he did not find it. His father Enoch revealed that the family’s wheelwright business had suffered a setback, due to the economic depression that struck the United States in the mid and late 1830s. And the Wheelers seemed no more closer in accepting Jacob for himself or his Western family. His cousin, Naomi Wheeler (Keri Russell) viewed Indians as non-human. His brother Ezra regarded Thunder Heart Woman as a mere "squaw". Naomi’s sister, Rachel (Jessica Capshaw), viewed young Margaret’s hand as a piece of dung. And Enoch seemed to act as if his new daughter-in-law and grandchildren did not exist. No wonder Jacob ended up complaining about the Wheelers’ treatment of his Lakota family.
Eventually, Jacob decided to take his wife and children and return to the West permanently – preferably Californa. It seemed the Wheelers’ continuing disregard toward them – along with news of his idol Jedediah Smith’s death – led to this decision. He almost seemed cold and distant toward his parents and Ezra. But he did not count on Jethro and his three female cousins’ decision to accompany him to California. Apparently, not all of the Wheelers viewed him as an oddball for his preference for the West. Jacob seemed heartened by Jethro’s decision to join him. And although Naomi, Rachel and Leah’s (Emily Holmes) decision to join the trek West took him by surprise, Jacob readily accepted their company. In the following narration, he came to this conclusion:
"I hope that I would prove equal to the responsibility I had undertaken."
I found this comment rather odd. Jethro and the three cousins had been determined to follow Jacob and Thunder Heart Woman on the trek to California, regardless of anything the couple would have done or said. Even Jethro had later pointed this out.
The next three years (1837-1840) must have been the best Jacob had ever experienced with any of the Virginia Wheelers. The three cousins – Naomi, Rachel and Leah – finally began to view Thunder Heart Woman as a member of the family and cherished her and Jacob’s three children (Abraham had been born in Wheelerton in 1836 and Jacob Jr. was born in Missouri sometime in late 1840). Jacob’s close relationship with Jethro seemed like a far cry from the conflicts with Nathan that marred his trip to the west back in the 1820s. One would begin to think that Jacob no longer suffered from any insecurity by this point. And yet . . . they only remained buried inside him, waiting for the right moment to manifest.
In the end, it took the wagon train journey to California (dubbed "the Wagon Train of Doom" by me) featured in "Manifest Destiny" for Jacob’s insecurities to get the best of him. Upon their arrival in Independence, Missouri in the fall of 1840, the Wheeler family remained there during the winter before joining a California-bound wagon train led by one Stephen Hoxie (Beau Bridges) in the spring of 1841. Surprisingly, only Thunder Heart Woman seemed reluctant to leave Missouri. I suspect she had enough of being constantly on the move for the past several years. But the rest of the Wheelers, especially Jacob, seemed determined to head for California.
Once the Hoxie wagon company began their westward trek, everything seemed to be faring well. The weather seemed beautiful. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits – including the black family from Illinois named Jones that managed to join the wagon train without any opposition. Both Naomi and Rachel attracted the romantic attention of the train’s two scouts – 'Skate' Guthrie and James ‘Jim’ Ebbets (Ryan Robbins and Christopher Heyerdahl). This contentment finally ended when Thunder Heart Woman spotted wolves feeding off the corpse of a buffalo and when the train later crossed what I believe was the Big Blue River. The incident proved to be the first of two disagreements between the couple. Thunder Heart Woman viewed the wolves as a sign that the wagon train would come to a bad end. She insisted that the Wheeler family return to Missouri. Jacob dismissed her worries as superstition on her part. But the expression on his face clearly indicated his doubts on the wisdom of the trip.
Then the first disaster struck. One of the emigrants, a German-born minister named Preacher Hobbes (Derek de Lint), lost control of his wagon during the crossing. Distracted by the Hobbes family’s situation, Jethro nearly lost control of his wagon. Leah fell out of the wagon and drowned in the river’s fast flowing water. Although Hobbes received an angry response for his carelessness from Captain Hoxie, the Wheeler women’s anger seemed to be directed at Jacob for leading them to this western trek. The expression of guilt seemed very palpable on Jacob’s face, as Naomi demanded that he take the family back to Missouri. Leah’s death proved to be just the beginning.
The further west the wagon train traveled, more disasters followed. The emigrants were forced to deal with a severe thunderstorm and a cattle stampede that left the only son of a black emigrant named Absalom Jones (Neville Edwards) dead. Not long after the storm and the stampede, both Naomi and Rachel married two of the wagon train’s scouts, Skate and Jim. But that brief period of happiness failed to last when the wagon train attempted to travel through a pass. While traversing a pass, a wagon broke free, knocked Rachel down and ran over her leg, causing a severe compound fracture. The leg eventually became infected. Hobbes, the closest thing to a doctor available, tried to amputate Rachel's leg; but his efforts turned out to be clumsy and Rachel died before he could finish. Although no family member angrily demanded that return to Missouri, the expression on Jacob’s face obviously conveyed his feelings of guilt.
The final blow to Jacob’s disastrous return to the west occurred when Mrs. Jones died from cholera. Since the Wheelers’ wagons had been traveling with the Jones’ wagon at the back of the train, they had been exposed to the disease. Hoxie and the scouts forced the Wheelers and the remaining members of the Jones family (Mr. Jones and Sally Jones) to remain behind under quarantine while the main body of the wagon train carries on. Only Naomi was able to continue with the train, since she had been with her new husband. Jethro became afflicted with symptoms of cholera but recovered. Both Jacob and Thunder Heart Woman drifted into a serious quarrel, when he suggested that she take their children and attempt to find her Lakota family. Needless to say, Thunder Heart Woman took the suggestion badly and reminded Jacob that he should have listened to her warnings about the journey.
No new outbreaks occurred after Jacob ordered that all drinking water be boiled. The Wheelers and the Jones rushed to catch up with the wagon train, but discovered that it had been attacked by Cheyenne warriors. All of the emigrants had been wiped out, aside from Naomi, who first became a captive and later, a wife of a Cheyenne chief Prairie Fire (Jay Tavare). The Wheelers and the Jones families were also attacked by Cheyenne warriors. They managed to repulse the attack, but Jacob ended up seriously wounded by an arrow in his chest. The surviving emigrants tried to move on with a wounded Jacob, but the juts and bumps of the trail made it impossible for him to endure the pain. Instead, he insisted that Thunder Heart Woman, Jethro, Mr. Jones and the children continue west to California without him, since he would only prevent them from crossing the Sierra Nevada Mountains before winter. They left him behind with great reluctance.
Thanks to a fortuitous encounter with one of his brothers-in-law, Running Fox (Zahn McClarnon), Jacob survived his wound before continuing west. The period he spent east of the Sierra Nevada Mountains allowed him to wallow in loneliness and grief over the separation from his family. But he remained determined to find them. And it took him another four to five years before he finally did. Becoming a member of John Charles Frémont’s California Volunteer Militia during the Mexican-American War allowed Jacob to scour the region for signs or news of his remaining family. Five years passed before he finally came upon the ranch that Jethro and Thunder Heart Woman had settled. Jacob also discovered that in the intervening years, his brother and wife had considered him dead, began a relationship and had a child – a little girl named Cornflower. Devastated by this turn of events, Jacob decided not to reveal himself to his family. At least not openly. Instead, he left the wooden medicine wheel necklace that Thunder Heart Woman had given him when they first met to his youngest child, Jacob High Cloud. Another five years passed before Jacob finally reconciled with his family, due to the efforts of his daughter, Margaret Light Shines.
Ever since I first saw "INTO THE WEST" and especially the above mentioned scene from "Manifest Destiny", I have found myself wondering about Jacob’s actions. I understood why he decided not to intrude upon the family that Jethro and Thunder Heart Woman had formed upon their arrival in California. But why did he leave the medicine wheel necklace to young Jacob? Surely, he knew that his family would be aware that he was alive . . . and knew about their situation? Looking back on his action, it struck me as a very passive-aggressive on his part. He lacked the courage to face Jethro and Thunder Heart Woman. And yet, he seemed determined to thwart the happiness they had created . . . as if he was punishing them for continuing their lives without him. Or perhaps Jacob felt a great deal of envy toward Jethro because the latter turned out to be the one who successfully led the family to California, and not him.
Perhaps Jacob had always a passively-aggressive personality from the beginning. His relationship with his Virginia family struck me as being marked by a great deal of passive-aggressive behavior from the start. Jacob seemed determined to be his own man, whether in his enthusiasm for the West, his decision to leave Wheeler or join Jedediah Smith’s expedition over following his brother Nathan to Texas. And yet . . . he never defended himself in the face of their criticism. Instead, he resorted to resentful silence. Why did he constantly fail to defend himself? Was he merely trying to keep the peace? Or did some small part of him fear that his family may have been right about him? It seemed strange than many fans and critics of "INTO THE WEST" seemed to adore Jacob for his seemingly self-assurance and outgoing personality. At the same time, they derided Jethro for being an insecure loser in their eyes. I got the feeling that they were so busy either scorning Jethro or adulating Jacob that they failed to detect the latter’s personal insecurities and darker traits. And Jacob certainly had them by the bucketful.
Did Jacob ever overcome his insecurities? Perhaps. Perhaps not. I wonder if many are aware of this, but it usually takes an individual to overcome his or her faults during an entire lifetime. A good number of people never succeed in overcoming all of their faults. And since "INTO THE WEST" focused more on his and Thunder Heart Woman’s children in the last three episodes, audiences never discovered if he had overcome all of his faults and insecurities. Jacob certainly seemed more at peace in his old age than he did during his first forty years. Perhaps those years of solitude near the Sierra Mountains foothills helped him finally achieve some inner peace.
#into the west#into the west 2005#into the west tnt#jacob wheeler#matthew settle#thunder heart woman#tonazin carmelo#oregon trail#california trail#jethro wheeler#skeet ulrich#keri russell#jessica capshaw#emily holmes#zahn mcclarnon#beau bridges#derek de lint#serge houde#ken pogue#jay tavare#neville edwards#early america#antebellum#mexican-american war#christopher heyerdahl#ryan robbins#john pyper-ferguson#alan tudyk#self awareness#steven spielberg
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The newest Heartland episode saw a couple of unexpected guests visit the ranch which lead to an eventful overnight trail ride.
Want to know more? Then read our recap of Heartland season 16 episode 9
#heartland#amber marshall#amy fleming#heartland season 16#shaun johnston#jack bartlett#tim fleming#chris potter#michelle nolden#jessica cook#lyndy borden#trail ride#Heartland 16.09#Heartland 16x09#iloveheartland#heartland on cbc#heartland cbc#cbc heartland#heartland recap
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Jennifer's Body AU 👀
#; wishlist#your muse catches Jessica feeding#and maybe she doesn't know how to stop#so she's just leaving a trail of dead bodies in her wake#pls
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Jessica Lee Goldyn's Instagram Story (January 15, 2023)
#derek klena#broadway#jessica lee goldyn#moulin rouge broadway#moulin rouge cast#moulin rouge#happy trails derek (for now)!#social media#video#instagram
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Hey I love your work so much! Could you please write about alastor with a wife who’s just like Jessica rabbit and ended up in heaven because she didn’t know about him killing but came down to visit him after meeting Charlie when she went up there. I just think I’d be wild for someone like Al to have a wife like that
AAAAOOOOGGGGAAAAA!!!! I could have written this in soooo many ways but i think its a bit like one i already wrote but I hope you enjoy nevertheless!!! @alientee
I highly recommend you listen to The Night We Met, Copacabana, and Why don’t You Do Right!!!! That’s what I envisioned for this one request!!!!
The meeting between the Princess of Hell and the Angelic council was a mess.
The Princess had a look of defeat, so you took it upon yourself to let her show you her hotel.
You prompted that you will be the one to go down and see if it were possible that demons could be redeemed.
I mean everyone deserves a second chance right?
You were talk even the worst sinner still possessed some sort of decency.
So you followed the Princess to her hotel to show you around.
Charlie was elated that you didn’t think her dream was just some fluck.
She asked you all sorts of questions. How you ended up in heaven and how was your life before you died.
”Believe it or not I was a singer at a gentlemen’s lounge. Oh darlin you should have seen me in my prime! Jazz, booze, and oh I had the sweetest husband.”
Charlie was shocked. I mean, yes you were breathtaking, but you really didn’t seem like the type to be tied down to some guy.
You giggled at her expression. It was often the look men gave you when you refused their advances, happily boasting you were a taken woman and not some hussy that could warm their beds.
”Oh you’ll really find that the hotel has character. Our hotel manager might be a little…hmmm creepy but don’t pay him any mind” she said opening the door to the hotel to lead you through the lobby.
And character it did.
The interior was old-fashion but it had charm. A bit masculine for a young woman to run it, but if the manager was a man, you could see why it looked the way it did.
You took a seat on a couch and waited as Charlie went to gather the residents so you would meet them.
You were slightly nervous. You were in Hell and hadn’t the slightest clue what demons even looked like.
You fiddled with your ring, how you wished to see your husband.
”Everyone we have a special guest so pleeeeaasssee be on your best behavior” you heard Charlie say.
You caught sight of a gnarly bar and the bartender, you smiled
”shot of whiskey on the rock love” Husker turned around and his eyes widened, yours did too “Why i never thought…Husker?!” You squealed happily, lunging across the bar to hug the demon. He smiled and patted your back, pulling away “Husker what ya doing down here?” He gave you a deadpan look, making you laugh. You then thought about it..
If Husker was down here then that…
”Charlie you should have said such beauty in our circle i would have cleaned up a lot better” a voice purred, making your head turn.
A tall spider smiled at you, giving you a flirtatious wink, which you sent back with a wave.
A little cyclone, a snake, and a seemingly human woman entered the room.
Charlie smiled “This lovely angel has decided to have a look around to prove Heaven wrong”
You introduced yourself.
”Now i know you’re not here long so Ill give you a quick-”
Charlie was interrupted by a radio-like voice.
”Don’t tell me you’re going to give a tour without me Charlie? You know we work as a team-” his words trailed off as he caught sight of you.
You stood, a happy smile on your face “Alastor baby!” You practically ran into his arms.
”Ain’t no way…”
”Noooo”
”oh welll that do make ssssennssseee”
”Pretty lady!”
everyone watched in shock as Alastor twirled you around, peppering your face in kisses.
”oooohhh my dear what a surprise this is!” He said hugging you. You heard a throat clear and broke your hold on him, turning to see everyone confused.
You gave a sheepish smile. Alastor beamed and hooked a arm around your waist
”Everyone this doll here is my wife! The prettiest thing that ever graced the earth!” You playfully slapped his chest.
Everyone's mouths dropped.
”WHAT!?”
You sat in Alastor’s lap as you told how you knew the red demon. Rambling on about how you two met and how your lives were like.
They just couldn’t process it.
YOU were married to Alastor.
Married to the most feared Overlord in Hell.
Wife to the Radio Demon.
How the fuck?
You were an angel? Literally and figuratively!
”How the hell did Mr. Creepy face fancy talk here get a broad like you?” Angel asked.
Alastor’s chest puffed with pride. His smile almost broke his face “with charm and wit my deluded friend” He said as he leaned his chin on your shoulder.
You giggled, it was always entertaining to see people's reactions to who your husband was.
You turned to Alastor, lips pouty with a feigned upset look
”Now i been dead forever and not once have I seen you. Why? Why weren’t you in Heaven?”
Alastor stiffened, how was he to tell you that during your time alive he had killed many people just for the fun of it?
“Weeelll my dear I might have killed a few people”
You blinked and then thought about it.
It kind of made sense, he used to be out ‘hunting’ at weird times of day, be gone at night saying he was working.
You had a hard time getting stains out of his clothing.
That do explains some things.
”So do you regret anything?” He let out a laugh
nope. Not a single thing.
You shook your head “well since I’m heeeerrrrreee…why don’t we swing by juke joint, if you’re here, I’m sure Mimzy is here. I could use a good time. Its stuffy up there in Heaven. No fun at all”
Charlie perked “Ahh yes you must see how the sinners here are really like and what better than enagaging with them?”
Angel smirked “I know a place waaaayy better than some old booze lounge”
A club. You were at a club.
Your eyes honed in on a mic on the stage and it just happened to be open night.
You batted your eyes and just like that you were on stage.
The lights dimmed and you flipped through some songs to pick.
You might have been a bit old-fashioned but you were caught up on some of the modern singers that came through heaven.
The band nodded at your choice and you took hold of the mic.
With a twirl of your hand, you dawned on a 1920s theme look.
The gang mouths were jaw dropped as you started to sing, the audience was captivated. Catcalls and whistles filled the air.
Alastor felt static run through him as he sighed lovingly as you came down the stage and sat on his lap, mock fixing his bow tie as you sang. You teasingly nipped at his lips, causing his ears to twitch as you smiled going back to waltzing around the stage.
You smiled as bowed as the crowd exploded with cheers and applause as the lights came back on.
Ain’t no way Alastor had a bad broad like you, but the way you happily giggled as he whispered in your ear, pulling you into his chest…
There wasn’t denying it.
You held the Radio Demon’s dark heart.
His sweet, alluring wife
who would have thought?
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#jyoongim#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x y/n#alastor x angel reader#alastor x singer reader
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pc: Jessica Trail
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“His Little Wife”
Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader
divider credits: @cafekitsune @rookthornesartistry
Summary: You are Paul's twin sister and are sent to marry Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.
Warnings: p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, slight breeding kink, slightdom!feyd, sub!reader, feyd does show a soft side. 18+ MDNI!
Reader has she/her pronouns
Word Count: 1,8k
Disclaimer: I don't own any works related to Dune characters, and I do not claim them as my own.
Comments likes, and reblogs are always adored and appreciated.
Y/n Atreides. Described as the most beautiful and desirable among all the houses, when Lady Jessica gave birth to twins, the Bene Gesserits were disgruntled about the birth of Paul, but hearing the news of Y/n, the next part of their plan was to wed Y/n to a Harkonnen. The plan was simple: secure an heir to bring forth the One while hoping to fix the feud between the Houses Atreides and Harkonnen. Y/n Atreides would marry the younger nephew and Na-Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen. Y/n remembered the shiver that ran through her spine hearing the news. When Y/n landed in Geidi Prime, her timid body refused to move as she felt her father’s hand on her back. His gentle smile urged her to walk down as she breathed. Her head suddenly became dizzy as she walked towards the Harkonnen fortress. Her father, Duke Leto, too, was nervous; he didn’t want to make his daughter marry a man she didn’t know. Lest it be a Harkonnen, he would have married her to Duncan Idaho, if he could have it his way. Granted, he wasn’t noble, but he would have been a suitable match for his daughter. He trusted Duncan with his life. And with his children’s lives, too.
Leto bowed his head lightly to Baron Harkonnen, who hummed in response as he leant back, smoking his pipe. His nephews Feyd and Glossu stood on either side of their uncle. Glossu appeared disinterested, but his dark eyes would wander over to Y/n’s frame, making the young woman shudder under his gaze. Feyd smirked, admiring the young Atreides with amusement. Leto and Baron Harkonnen went to the meeting chambers to discuss matters, and Glossu followed behind with the Harkonnen and Atreides mentants. They were leaving Feyd and Y/n alone in the room. Feyd slowly wandered over his pace, calculating and slow. Y/n’s eyes focused on Feyd, and his fingers delicately glided up her arm over her collarbone.
Humming lightly, he moved closer. Y/n stood silent as she studied him carefully, not letting her guard down. He chuckled, his knuckles brushing her cheek. Y/n flinched under his touch, and she stepped back. He narrowed his eyes in thought, noticing her breath hitch in her throat. Feyd could sense the fear in the air circling the young Atreides, his head lowered to her neck, inhaling her sweet scent. Y/n gasped sharply, turning her body to face Feyd, never leaving herself vulnerable to his gaze. A small laugh escaped his lips. “You tremble. Are you afraid of me, little Atreides? Perhaps…” he trailed off, lowering his voice and whispering in her ear. “You Desire me?” he purred Y/n’s eyes avoided eye contact, hearing her father’s voice echo “, Y/n! Come child”, he urged her as Y/n picked up her dress skirt running to her father, looking back she saw Feyd smirk his blue eyes watching her every move.
Y/n Atreides and Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s wedding ceremony was the most talked about event on Geidi Prime. It had been so long since something as exciting as a wedding took place in Harkonnen’s homeworld. But the people of Geidi Prime did not look happy; if anything, they looked upon Y/n with pity and sadness. They knew of their Na-Baron’s wrath, his taste for blood, and his pleasure in killing. They all feared for the young Atreides girl and how long she would live as Na-Baroness.
Suppose Y/n remembered anything from what she had learnt about the Harkonnen family. Always keep your guard and never go against them. Especially Feyd-Rautha. Reminded each day by her ladies and those she was given on Geidi Prime, they aided her with knowing how to keep Feyd-Rautha’s temperament within handling limits. “The Na-Baron is very short tempered, Lady Atreides; he does not like to be questioned, disobeyed and most certainly not spoken back to. Na-Baron Feyd is ruthless in not just killing, but in his games, he will toy with you and make you wish you were dead. Lady Atreides, you must always be careful around him. Whatever he wants, you do it. Whatever he says, you do it. Do you understand?” The ladies asked her as Y/n nodded, slowly swallowing a lump in her throat as she shuddered a breath, her heart pounding. As she looked in the mirror, a delicate veil draped over her face, the ladies smiled. “Lady Atreides, you look beautiful. Na-Baron will be most pleased”, they whispered as they all curtsied in unison Y/n held back tears, turning away from the mirror and leaving her chambers.
Na-Baron Feyd’s eyes never left his wife, who didn’t utter a word during the wedding feast. Sitting silently at the table, she sipped her wine; the loud music and laughter echoed in the grand hall. Feyd sighed, looking ahead, smirking; his hand reached under the table and slid up his wife’s leg, a gasp leaving her parted lips. She looked over at Feyd, who stared at her; she felt her body heat under his gaze; his hand gripped her dress, and her breathing grew heavy. Feyd leaned over gently. “I’ve held back long enough, little wife”, Feyd growled Y/n felt her body tense at his words; she blinked back her tears, standing with Feyd; his hand gripped hers tightly, leading them out of the hall. Cheers and uncontrolled laughter deafened Y/n’s ears as Feyd grinned and scooped Y/n over his shoulder; the young woman kicked her legs angrily. Feyd’s laughter angered her as she hit his back. “Put me down now!” She ordered him; hearing no response, Feyd kicked the doors to his chambers open, closing them behind him before throwing Y/n on the bed.
“Little wife, why do you resist me?” His voice sent chills through her body as he lowered himself between her legs. His hand gripping his knife, Y/n’s eyes widened, her heart racing. The cold blade rested against her skin before cutting her dress to shreds. Raising the knife to his mouth, his tongue slid out and flattened as the blade rested gently on top. Y/n watched him, her chest rising and falling, her doe eyes fluttering; Feyd removed the knife and grinned, his black teeth shining under the pale moonlight. Laying his knife on the bed, he gripped his wife’s thighs, pulling her closer. Trying to wriggle out of Feyd’s grasp, his blue eyes gave her a warning glare.
“Please…I’ll do my duty as your wife. But I ask you to be gentle with me,” Y/n whispered; her husband looked up, humming lightly, pushing her dress up to her hips. Picking his knife up once again and twirling it, he smiled, ripping her undergarment. Sliding up her body like a serpent, he licked up her neck, caging her underneath him. “I’ll do what I like, little wife; you might just find it pleasurable yourself”, his voice purred, his mouth latched on her pulse on her neck, biting down gradually. Y/n whimpered underneath her body, moving, trying to escape his hold. Feyd pressed himself down harder, his hand sliding up her body under her dress, feeling her soft skin on his rough palm. “Your body responds to my touch. You like it?” Feyd’s lips ghosted over her jaw. The corner of his eyes met hers as he smiled. Pulling away, his finger glided along her bottom lip as she trembled. “Don’t fight me”, he whispered, kissing her roughly. A moan escaped Y/n’s mouth; fighting the urge to kiss him back, her body began to falter. Her lips moved against his, falling under his spell, her desire aflame she couldn’t fight him anymore. Feyd pulled away slowly; he observed his wife, whose eyes were still closed from the kiss.
Y/n’s lips tingled from the sensation; her eyes fluttered open, finding Feyd staring at her. Y/n pulled him in for another kiss. Feyd growled into the kiss, his tongue dancing with Y/n’s fighting for dominance. Feyd pulled away, sliding down her body, situating himself between her legs, biting and kissing her inner thighs, breathing heavily. Y/n’s moans echoed through the chambers as Feyd licked his lips; diving between her legs, Y/n cried, her back arched. Gripping the bedspread tightly in her hands, Y/n writhed under his hold, moaning his name, “Feyd!” Desperation filled her voice, feeling Feyd’s tongue increase pace, his movements growing harder and faster. One of Y/n’s hands left the bedspread and gripped Feyd’s head, rolling her hips. “Oh, Feyd!” She gasped, feeling her body tense as Feyd pulled away with a grin, kissing her stomach; he ripped the remaining parts of her dress. Removing his clothes, Feyd flipped Y/n on her stomach Feyd pulled her body back to his.
Entering her in one thrust, his hips snapping onto hers, Feyd let out a feral sound, overwhelmed with pleasure. Y/n’s body shook, her head falling forward. Feyd was large and unprepared; her mother didn’t tell her much about the marital acts that happened between a man and wife. She had never laid with a man, and her husband was no ordinary man. Y/n was innocent, and Feyd-Rautha had her all to himself. A grin formed on his lips as he leaned down. “Don’t worry, little wife, you will feel good soon enough” he rolled his hips, his cock hitting her cervix harshly, making her cry out. His thrusts were rough and violent; just like him, he didn’t want to be gentle. It’s not in his nature; he is a warrior born ruthless and terrifying. Hearing his little wife’s cries made his mind hazy with lust, his hands grabbing her waist and pounding into her harder. Feyd snarled, feeling her walls suck him in, his eyes rolling in his head, his hips faltering slightly.
Feyd pulled out of Y/n, rolling her onto her back and entering her again. His eyes stared at Y/n’s face, twisted in pleasure. His body rutted into hers fucking her hard. “There you go, little wife. You are enjoying yourself,” Feyd smirked; his hand gripped her leg and brought it around his waist. His other hand left a bruising grip on her hip. “I’m going to fuck a child into you, my little Atreides. Hmm, my sweet little Y/n,” he cooed, kissing her roughly and swallowing her moans and whimpers. Y/n arched her body, whining under Feyd as she felt her walls clench around his cock. Her body tensed as she felt her heart pound in her eyes. Feyd’s voice rang through her ears as she moaned sharply, feeling her release reach its peak. Feyd grunted, his hips stuttering as he, too, reached his peak, moaning loudly and coating her walls. Y/n whimpered, gazing into her husband’s eyes.
“Rest while you can, little one. I’m not done with you” He smirked.
Tags: @cynic-spirit
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#feyd rautha#feyd x reader#feyd rautha x reader#dune#austin butler#austin butler x reader#smut#dune smut#dune part 2#my fic#missjadesfics
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Backfire
Summary: The math is simple: you make Miguel jealous + push him past his breaking point = hot rough sex. Too bad Miguel doesn’t do simple.
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
18+. Jealous and possessive Miguel. Edging. Thigh riding. Orgasm denial. Fingering. Creampie.
You should know better than to cross Miguel O’Hara.
It rarely went according to plan, and he’d always end up having the upper hand.
But that still didn’t deter you from trying to change the outcome.
With a dramatic sigh, you flopped onto the couch, swinging your legs over Miguel’s. He shot you a side-glace as the oversized shirt you were wearing, rode up your thighs, barely covering much.
Miguel didn’t mind that you would often steal his shirts, strolling around your shared apartment wearing nothing but one and just panties.
Today was one of those days.
He sprawled one large and warm hand on your knee, caressing it absentmindedly, as he flicked through his pad.
“That new recruit is interesting,” you started, inspecting your nails.
“What recruit?”
“The one from yesterday.”
Miguel’s fingers paused as they were about to trail up your thigh. “Interesting?”
“Cute.”
“Ah.”
You glanced ovet at him, expecting the beginnings of a frown to settle on his face.
Nothing.
The pads of his fingers resumed the light motion, and he kept his gaze fixed on the orange screen.
That was odd.
It usually didn’t take long to rile Miguel up with the threat of other men interacting with you. You absolutely adored teasing him with fake interest in them, knowing it would be enough to make his blood boil.
But it seemed like he wasn’t taking the bait this time.
You needed to up the intensity.
“Maybe I should show him around?”
His middle finger was drawing tiny circles on your skin, but he merely hummed in response.
“… or mentor him?”
He clicked his tongue. “You’d be a terrible mentor.”
You scowled. Deeply.
This wasn not going as planned…
Clearing your throat, you scooted closer to him, the motion causing the shirt to slide further up, now revealing your laced panties.
That caught his attention, crimson eyes darting to the side.
“Terrible mentor?” you huffed dramatically with a pout. “I think he would be better off with me than with Jessica.”
You exchanged looks, both knowing that was a ridiculous statement.
“You get too distracted,” he said, patting your thigh gently. “… and are too distracting,” he added, eyes landing on your panties.
Oh.
You smiled inwardly, tasting the sweetness of victory firing up your heart. Shoving his hand away, you shifted to straddle one of his thighs, lacing your arms behind his neck.
“He’s really attractive,” you teased once again, locking eyes with his.
Miguel set the pad aside and brought his fingers to grip your chin, staring intensely at you. “What are you doing?”
“Me? Nothing!” you feigned confusion, slightly dragging your panties across his sweatpants.
He clicked his tongue, placing the other hand on your hip and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re too obvious.”
The feel of fabric on fabric only added to the delicious friction on your clit, and you smiled deviously. His muscles underneath you flexed ever so slightly, providing more tension.
“Maybe I should meet him tomorrow dressed like this.”
It was faint, but you spotted something crossing his eyes, his lips pressed firmly into a fine line.
There you go, Miguel, you cheered.
He let go of your chin and had the talon on his index finger protrude, grazing the collar of his shirt, before sliding down slowly, popping each button effortlessly.
You kept grinding on his thigh, feeling a gush of wetness spill into your underwear, sipping through and damping him.
Once he was done slicing off every single button you whined, sticking out your lower lip. “That was my favourite shirt!”
“It’s my shirt.”
The sudden exposure was enough to harden your nipples, earning a glance from him, as your breasts bounced softly with each sway of your hips.
You leaned in to whisper into his ear. “I’m yours, too, yet you don’t seem to mind that I hang out with other men.”
The hand on you hip slid all the way to your lower abdomen, and his fingers started teasing the hem of your panties.
“Ah. So this is what you’re doing,” he said with a nod, flexing the muscles in contact with you, earning a low gasp from your parted lips.
“Took you long enough.”
“Didn’t take me long at all, cariño,” he whispered, dipping his fingers to meet your swollen clit. “You’re not that subtle.”
You had unlace your arms around his nack and place both hands on his shoulders to keep your balance.
“You’re riding my thigh while mentioning other men,” he continued, spreading your own wetness across your folds and clit. “You want to rile me up.”
You arched your back into his touch, slowly edging yourself. “Me?”
“You want to ride something else.”
Touché.
At this point, you were too entranced in his fingers to even bother denying it. You let one of your hands drop to his lap, feeling his impressive erection straining to be set free.
One finger teased your entrance and you bucked your hips, desperate for him to slide it in.
His cock twitched under your palm and you glanced down to see a growing wet spot right where his tip was.
He slid one finger first, and soon added a second one, and you let out a strained sigh of relief.
You squeezed hard on his shoulder, holding on for the intense wave of pleasure that was about to hit you the moment you began riding him.
His other free hand snaked in between you two, cupping on of hour breasts, before brushing his thumb across your nipple.
“You’re already close.”
It wasn’t a question.
Miguel knew your body like he knew the entire layout of Nueva York. Months of fucking you had gifted with with unmatched knowledge of what made you tick and yearn for more.
You kept a steady grip on both his cock abd shoulder, trying your best to ready yourself for the impending orgasm that kept drawing closer and closer as he grazed the heel of his hand against your clit.
He growled into your ear as you pressed your face against his, breath coming out in shallow pants.
You were so close.
Your hand pulled down the waistband of his pants, and half of his cock emerged, pressed firmly against his lower abdomen, leaking strings of precum.
The wet sounds that filled the room were borderline obscene, which only served to heighten your pleasure.
Desperate rolls of your hips met his hand and you moaned out his name when he slipped a third finger.
The familiar coils of an orgasm slowly consuming your entire body had you dropping your head on his shoulder, whimpering loudly, ready to welcome your sought after high.
But as quickly as it came, it was soon over.
Miguel immediately removed his fingers from inside your squeezing pussy at once and had you pushed down flat on your stomach against the couch in no time.
“What the fuck!” you growled, the side of your face pressed into the pillow with both hands pinned behind your back.
You felt his hot breath in your hear. “You really thought I’d let you cum after that little stunt you pulled?”
Despair rained down on you as your walls clenched around nothing. “Miguel… what the fuck! Put them back!”
He was much stronger and bigger than you, so he had effectively rendered you immobile rather easily.
“I will once you promise me one thing,” his breath fanned your skin, raising goosebumps along your entire body.
You’d do anything to have him back inside you in that moment.
Anything.
“What is it?”
He gave one asscheek an almost painful squeeze. “Promise me you’ll never fuck anyone else.”
Your clit pulsed rapidly against your drenched folds and you tried to set free from his grasp, but all to no avail.
“Miguel…”
He then clipped your panties off with one talon. His hand dipped between your legs and he pressed his thumb against your entrance, causing your hips to jerk in a desperate attempt at more friction.
“Promise me.”
You bit down on your lip, frustration consuming you whole, as tears began to sting your eyes.
“Prométeme,” he growled.
Your lips parted in a sudden gasp once he slipped two fingers slowly inside, causing you to immediately clamp down around him.
“Yes… yes!” you then growled, trying your best to ride his fingers once again and pumping in and out of you at a steady pace.
He kept his other hand gripping your wrists tightly against your back, making sure you were kept in place.
“Qué maravilla,” he said lowly, but you could detect faint sarcasm dripping from his voice.
Slowly but surely, eased his pressure on you, giving your hips enough freedom to have you jerk against him, your pussy eagerly squeezing his fingers.
He eventually let go of your wrists and you brought your hands to grip the fabric of the couch, moaning loudly with each thrust.
You were getting close to the edge once more, not bothering to sound coherent anymore.
The closer you got to your orgasm, the more you frantically rode him.
“I’m… I’m…” you gasped loudly, eyes fluttering shut.
Miguel pressed a kiss to your temple. “I know.”
And his fingers were gone.
The beginning of your orgasm slipped away from you as if you were trying to catch smole with bare hands.
This time, you flipped and were ready to pounce him, frustration overtaking all your senses.
But Miguel’s reflexes were sharp as ever and he immediately caught both your wrists, pinning your back against the couch.
“Fuck you!” you spat, lips quivering from anger. “I promised!”
He settled between your squirming legs, as he pinned both your arms over your head.
“You didn’t sound convincing enough,” he said simply, rubbing your pulse point with his thumbs.
“Fuck you!”
He chuckled. “I know you want to, but I need assurances, cariño.”
You glared at him furiously, wanting nothing more than to hurt him the way he was hurting you, tears still streaming down your face.
“I promise… I won’t fuck anyone else…”
His cock bounced freely from his pants and he positioned the tip covered in precum against your clit.
“And you won’t try to make me jealous again.”
You rose your hips, hoping it would cause his to align with your entrance instead.
“I won’t. Ever,” you sobbed sheepishly.
He then pushed inside you effortlessly, glaring down at where your bodies were connected, watching in marvel as your pussy swallowed all of him in no time.
You were too overstimulated at this point to keep playing the waiting game, so you promptly rolled your hips, and squeezed tightly around his cock.
“Frustration suits you,” he mocked with a growl, allowing you to bounce on his cock freely.
“Fuck off…” you groaned, bringing your hand down to rub your clit.
He quickly shoved it away, scowling. “You don’t want me to make you cum?”
“You’ve been edging me for too long… I need to…” your voice died down as he pressed your clit flat with the pad of his thumb.
You jerked involuntarily as he repeated the motion, climbing the steep height of pleasure, hoping you’d reach its peak this time.
“Cum first,” he growled, his own hips snapping to meet yours. “I need to feel you squeezing me.”
You hated how his command was what brought you iver the edge, the initial contractions of your orgasm breaking the motion of your hips, violently enveloping in an overwhelming and blinding surge of unmatched bliss.
Miguel kept rubbing your clit, earning stronger squeezes from you. “Keep going…”
Your back arched and you felt yourself sliding along his cock until he was all the way in. He let out a strangled grunt, and that let you know he had reached his peak, too.
He tried to set a broken rhythm as he came deep inside you, but your grip on his cock was too paralysing for him to move.
As clarity began to clean your dazed mind, you watched as Miguel squeezed his eyes shut and parted his lips to reveal his fangs, drowning in intense pleasure.
He nearly lost balance and fell on top of you, but steadied himself in time, still buried deep.
“I fucking hate you,” you groaned, trying to control your breathing.
He shuddered one last time, panting heavily, but still managing to put on a mocking smile. “You love hate fucking me.”
Masterlist
#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara x fem!reader#miguel ohara x reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel x reader
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Right hand III
Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader
Summary: After Feyd learns the truth about your dark past, you do everything in your power to prove your loyalty to him. He has many ideas for this... but will your life be able to go back to normal after that? You will either die at his hands, be exiled, return to the Bene Gesseit, or live by his side. And you yourself don't even know which of these options is worse...
Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut;
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist
His dagger digs lightly into your neck, blood slowly trickling down it. You don't try to fight him, you don't push the blade away or try to rip it out of his hand. You know that if you did, you would have been killed by him long ago.
You had to play it smart… and fast—before he slit your throat, which was becoming a more likely scenario with every second.
"Feyd…" You choke out once more, trying to make him look you in the eyes and get him to listen to you. The blood is seeping out of you faster and faster as he presses the blade harder against your throat.
"Silience, witch! You little plague, bane of my existence, poisonous viper, how long have you been playing with me? How long have you been faking all this? Did you think you could outsmart me? That you can deceive me? Make fun of me? Humiliate me? I should fuck you raw, use you like a whore, and leave you in your ridiculous sisterhood to rot with those old hags!" He shouts, pressing his blade harder against your throat. The cool steel of the metal on your skin is becoming a more serious threat to your life. You shiver as you feel him taking more blood from you.
"Feyd, listen…" You try to speak again, placing your hand on his wrist. He pushes your hand away as if it posed a radioactive threat greater than anything floating in Giedi Prime's atmosphere and glares at you furiously.
"NO! You lied to me. You betrayed me. You know how I punish people for disloyalty. You're lucky that I won't throw you to my soldiers so they can play with you before I give you to my harpies. But don't worry, I will take very good care of you. You'll die like those cowardly rats you helped me kill a few hours ago…"
"You... you would... kill me... if I told you... at the beginning..." You gasp as he grabs your neck tightly and drags his blade down your body, creating a trail of blood leading to your collarbone.
"I will kill you now." He growls hoarsely, completely cutting off the air from your respiratory tract.
Your eyes widen as he lifts you off the ground so that only your toes touch the floor. Tears well up in your eyes as you desperately try to draw in air, but his hand is wrapped too tightly around your neck for the oxygen to reach your lungs.
When you realised that it was over and that he had decided on your death, the moment that Lady Jessica told him the whole truth about you, you relaxed. You let a blissful emptiness wash over you as you slowly waited for him to take your life away. You close your eyes, rest your head against the wall behind you, and let your body slowly go limp as the seconds pass without air.
You gasp, surprised, as the grip on your neck loosens so that you can take small, ragged breaths. You quickly take advantage of the opportunity and take a few shaky breaths. You open your eyes, staring into Feyd's icy blue and furious gaze in utter shock.
Was he going to play with you before he killed you? Torture, like many before you, until he finds in himself some mercy and takes your life? Because if you know one thing, it's that you won't beg him to let you go. About nothing. Never. You were too proud to do so.
"Fight." He growls, pressing you harder against the wall. He leans forward, bringing his face very close to yours. You shiver, feeling his breath on your cheek as he carefully observes your reaction to his intimidation. Like a snake waiting for the right moment to attack.
"What?" You ask stupidly, not understanding what he is doing. You've often watched him play with his victims, prolonging their suffering and giving them no hope of escaping his grip... so why does he want you to fight? Why does he want you to resist him? Was this another sick game of his?
"Fight! Scream! Struggle! Why are you not doing anything?! Why don't you beg for your miserable life, Bene Gesserit's spy?! Fight with me! Fight back! FIGHT BACK!!" He screams and throws you against the wall.
Completely unprepared for him to completely release you from his grip, you fall to the floor, too weak to keep your balance on your own. You place your hands on the black metal sheet beneath you and breathe quickly, trying to get as much air as possible before he wraps his hand around your throat again.
"I… I was always… loyal… to you…" You gasp, still trying to recover from what just happened. He walks slowly towards you. He presses the tip of his sword under your chin and forces you to lift your head and look him in the eyes.
“You have five minutes before I treat you like I treat your mentor. Use this time well. I can always get bored and kill you faster.” He takes a step back and slowly slides the blade across your skin. He steps away from you to pour himself a drink, but he keeps watching you out of the corner of his eye. You take one brief glance at Lady Jessica's body before you can compose yourself enough to formulate any logical response.
"I... I have no idea what she told you. Where she lied and where it was convenient for her to tell the truth... but whatever she told you I did... she surely doesn't know the one, most important thing. She doesn't know the reason for my actions."
"Oh, but I do. You wanted to run away from them so you wouldn't have to breed with such a monster as me. You thought that as my right hand, you would be safe, that I wouldn't notice you in the shadows, that I wouldn't want you, and that I wouldn't touch you. But I did. And by doing so, I destroyed your plans. Tell me, how many times have you escaped from Giedi Prime in your fantasies? How many times have you wanted to leave for good?"
With each question he asks, he takes a step towards you, which makes him stand in front of you again. But you didn't get up from the floor. You didn't feel like it. Besides, you doubted he would let you stand up and be on an equal level with him. He needed to feel in control, to feel that he is still dominating over you—that he didn't lose control over you despite your... betrayal. Although you didn't think it was any kind of betrayal at all. A slight omission of a few facts. Nothing more.
"I... you can't blame me for that. Anyone with survival instincts would not willingly live on Giedi Prime. But I stayed." You decide to tell him some of the truth this time. For too long, you managed to play your cards well. You had to bend a little to his will without losing your claw and not behaving like an obedient concubine, wanting to fulfil all his orders and wishes, because that would make him more suspicious, and he would definitely kill you for trying to deceive him and lie to him again.
"You stayed out of fear." He questions your words, keeping his watchful, piercing gaze on you as he tries to find in you any trace of lying.
You almost shiver under the furious gaze of his icy blue eyes. Fortunately, you manage to refrain from showing him any reaction. The metallic scent of Lady Jessica's blood motivated you to survive like nothing had before. You somehow manage to recall some of your lessons and training sessions with her as you think about how to respond to Feyd's words. Maybe her methods and rules didn't keep her alive, but unlike her, you knew Feyda-Rautha too damn well. You could get out of this. You just had to play it smart and sacrifice a few things…
"Out of loyalty to you. Sense of duty and honor. Something I thought we both shared." You say confidently, meeting his gaze bravely.
However, your attitude does not impress him at all. He lazily turns the dagger in his hands, playing with the sharp blade. He doesn't take his eyes off you, even for a moment. He just stands there, maintaining a completely calm and unruffled demeanor. It's hard to imagine now that just a moment ago, this man was overcome with the greatest anger of his entire life. You've seen him in many states, but you have never seen him that mad. Rabban may have been called a beast by others, but the real threat was his younger brother. Especially when his first anger was over and it was time for the cold calculation of revenge.
“Was that loyalty and sense of duty also present in you when you chose to ignore the fact that you were supposed to be mine? That you are destined to give me an heir so strong that the whole world will kneel before him?” This time, you can't help but shudder. He notices this and chuckles darkly, shaking his head. In a split second, the tip of his blade is once again pressed on the thin and delicate skin of your throat. You swallow, and when you meet his gaze, you realise that you have to tell the truth if you don't want to die on your knees in front of him.
"If your uncle told you to marry me and have your offspring with me, would you do it?" A frown appears on his forehead at the mere mention of the baron. His hand trembles slightly as a new wave of rage washes over him.
"What does he have to do with this?" He asks hoarsely, as he suspects you of working with his uncle. After all, you were smart enough to play both sides.
Feyd wouldn't be surprised if you reported everything he was doing to his uncle behind his back. That's why he preferred having you—a cunning, beautiful witch who was now kneeling before him—by his side. Because you were drop-dead perfect. He never expected you to make such a stupid mistake. To ever let him gain even the slightest doubt about your loyalty.
"Nothing. But the Bene Gesserit were to me what your uncle is to you. And after running away from them, the last thing I wanted to do was follow the last sick order they gave me." The years you spent with him gave you enough information about the family relationship at House Harkonnen.
They are like predators waiting for the right moment to attack, always prepared to hurt the other one when he shows even a tiny glimmer of weakness. You also know Feyd's past... or rather, the history of scars on his back. Unfortunately, these were not the only marks the baron left on him.
You hold your breath as he grabs your hair and pulls you up. You get up on your feet, and, being on an equal level with him, you no longer hesitate to look him in the eye. He releases your hair with the other, only to move it to your cheek and neck. He rubs tiny droplets of blood across yours, shifting his attention to your skin. He caresses your jawline with his finger and suddenly tilts your head back, giving himself a better view of your reddened throat, which has begun to form bruises in the shape of his fingers from how he choked you just moments ago. You swallow, watching him closely.
"And yet you served me for many years. You stayed with me after they wanted to link your future with mine. Why?"
“I was hoping the last place they would look for me would be Giedi Prime by your side. And that… after all, you won't be interested in me.”
"But I was. This must have spoiled your plans, right?"
"A little." You confess, hoping to gain something from your honesty.
After your words, there is a long silence in the room. He removes his hand from you, staring intently at you as he considers your words. You wait in suspense and anticipation for his next decision.
One quick move was enough to take your life.
And from the look in his eyes, you know it must have been tempting for him to add your blood to Lady Jessica's, which was already staining the floor of the ship.
"On your knees." His command is so sudden that it takes you a moment for your brain to process what he said.
All you can do is stare at him blankly, your heart beating with excitement and terror at the thought of his words. He didn't want to… he couldn't now… You look down at his pants and swallow, seeing the slight bulge. You hold your breath as he takes a step towards you and presses his hard length against your thigh, which undoubtedly confirms your suspicions. He lifts your chin with two fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes as you blush and realise what he is asking you to do.
"I love your doe eyes, my pet, but there's a time and a place for everything. On your knees or your heart will become another decoration of my chambers." He says it huskily, caressing your chin before letting go. He stares at you expectantly, waiting for your next move.
You swallow again, feeling a huge lump in your throat. Your mind is racing, but you know, as he does, that you have no escape. Your position is hopeless; you can either give him a blowjob or die, and you don't want to do any of it. Or touch him in any way after he disembowelled Lady Jessica in front of you. But the prospect of being his next victim reluctantly brings you to your knees before him.
"Good girl." He hums, tilting your chin slightly so you're looking at him and not the floor between you. He takes a step towards you and attaches the dagger to his arm. "Show me that your beautiful, deceptive, tempting lips, throat, and larynx can do more than feed me with sweet lies, and maybe I won't cut them out of you."
You hold your breath, your eyes trailing down to his pants. You hear him chuckle darkly before he takes your hands in his and places them on the fastenings of his pants, guiding your hands as you gradually free his length from his armour.
You swallow again at the sight of his full, hard length and curse him, as the rumours about him do not lie at all. He was enormous. Long and not too thick, but not thin either. You don't know if you'd rather he tried to cut your throat with a knife than pierce it with what stood proud between you.
"Rumours say you know how to do it. I don't remember how many soldiers I killed for the privilege of having your body before me. But each of them shared one opinion. Your fire burns as bright in battle as it does in the bedroom. Show me, my little witch, how much you care about continuing to be my right hand and having all the privileges you had." He encourages you mockingly when you stare at his slightly pre-cum-dripping cock for too long for his liking. But damn, his cum was black. You were sure as hell that the bastard was going to paint you with it.
You give him an angry, cold glare as you wrap your hand around his length. He lets out a soft moan, grabbing your jaw to make sure you keep your eyes on his. You swallow, stroking his length with slow movements of your hand as he gets even harder. Part of you is glad that he wants you to look at him. You doubt you could keep your composure if you had to look at what you had to fit in your mouth… and hopefully only in your mouth.
He growls when you drag out the inevitable too long, using only your hands on him. You can see that he likes what you're doing, but the impatience radiating from him makes you realise that it won't end with just a few caresses of your hands around his length.
Reluctantly, you lean down and wrap your lips around his tip, sucking him gently—like candy. You taste his pre-cum on your tongue, surprisingly taking in its… not-so-horrible taste. It's bittersweet on your tongue and thick. You shudder at the thought of what he would feel like inside you.
He groans, burring his hands in your hair as he gently pushes you on him to make you take more of his cock into your mouth. You choke as his length suddenly hits the back of your throat. Surprisingly, he stops pushing you and just keeps his hands in your hair, letting you adjust to his full length.
"I've always liked your hair..." He starts tugging on them to correct your rhythm. "A natural leash for my beautiful, dangerous pet..."
You growl around him in anger at his words. He groans throatily, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth at the extra stimulation he got from you. You feel tears slowly begin to well up in your eyes as he allows himself to move his hips more and more, lazily thrusting into your throat. Your saliva mixes with his pre-cum, staining the corners of your mouth.
It amazes you how gentle he is with you. How he doesn't push you too far so as not to cause you the pain you know he loves to enjoy. More than once, you had to call the medic to his concubines. Even his harpies occasionally got injured when he used them for his pleasure after a particularly exciting fight. You knew how… he could get lost in his pleasure. Yet he was extremely careful with you.
He starts thrusting into your throat faster and faster, guiding your head by your hair in time with his thrusts. You let your tears fall as he picked up a pace you couldn't keep up with. You close your eyes and feel a tear roll down your cheek. You open them, meeting his gaze, when you feel his thumb brush away your falling tear. He licked it off his finger, purring at its salty flavour.
You wrap your hands around his balls, massaging them in a circular motion, trying to make him come as quickly as possible. He laughs throatily, pounding stupidly into your mouth. Your jaw starts to hurt. You prop yourself up on his thigh with one hand, unable to stay on your knees for long on your own.
Seeing that you're having difficulty, he slows down a little, lazily digging into your throat. He luxuriated in the warmth of your mouth, and your tongue caressed his length. His gaze never falters, as he maintains eye contact with you the entire time. He strokes your cheek with his hand, then moves to your throat as he gently uses his fingertips to feel the bulge in your throat caused by his cock.
"I'll take you. Fast and hard. You'll cry as beautifully as you do now and writhe beneath me desperately, trying to escape like always, but you'll be so impaled on my cock and wrapped in the tight embrace of my arms that you won't move a fucking millimetre without my permission. I will fuck into you our Kwisatz Haderach, so no one will ever doubt that it should have been otherwise, that you don't belong with me. And the best of all is that you will not know the damn day or hour when it will happen. You will learn how to be my whore and baroness, just like you learned how to be my right hand. You'll do great, my little witch. You prove very well with your mouth and hands what a wonderful right hand you are. Much better than my own fucking hand. Much better than any of the fantasies I had. My little witch, always attending to my every need. Only fucking mine."
He moans, speeding up drastically, chasing his peak. You feel him getting closer to his orgasm as he becomes impossibly harder in your mouth and his balls tighten, ready to release his black cum. He keeps making you look at him until he growls loudly, coming into your mouth.
Earlier, you were gagging with just his length in your mouth. Now you really choke as his seed spills down your throat. He presses you against him, your nose brushing against his pubic bone, making you swallow all of his cum until it's completely inside you. Its taste is pungent, reminding you of a spicy, bitter spice.
He stays in your mouth for a while after he finishes pouring into you. He massages your scalp with his hands, clearly not wanting to release you. His cock twitches slightly, and you fear he's about to give you a second round.
He sighs, reluctantly pulling out of your mouth. He grabs your hands and guides them to his pants. You cleaned him and put him back in his pants without saying a word. You are not even looking into his eyes, knowing full well that a satisfied smile will spread across his lips the moment you do.
He grabs your arms and lifts you off your knees. You shiver, unable to stay on your two feet after being on your knees for so long, and you fall into his arms, leaning completely against him. He laughs huskily, pulling you closer to his chest. He uses his fingertip to collect the last of your saliva and his cum from the corners of your mouth and pushes his fingers into your mouth. You suck on them, meeting his eyes with your defiant, angry gaze.
He hums, smiling darkly as he watches with satisfaction as you lick his fingers. He leans forward, his nose brushing your cheek as he licks from your face and then from your neck the droplets of his black cum that leaked from your mouth as you tried to swallow everything he poured into you. You shiver as his tongue caresses the skin of your neck, tracing the small, sealed wound he inflicted on you with his dagger. He hums against your neck, disappointed at how quickly your blood clots.
Suddenly, he lets you completely go. You can barely keep your balance as he walks away from you.
"If that Atreides' bitch survived, so did her pathetic puppy. Send a message to our people in the desert. Paul Atredis is alive. We have to kill him before he and the rebels start a revolt and destroy our plans. Clean up here too. Tomorrow we have half a tribe of these rats to interrogate."
You nod dumbly, trying to understand what the hell just happened. Just a few hours ago, you were afraid for your life, and now that you... have pleased him, he acts like nothing has happened. You come to the conclusion that it bothered you more than when he pressed his blade against your throat.
"Ah, and Y/N." He says, stopping at the door and turning to look at you one last time before leaving the room. You can tell by the mischievous smile on his lips that he has nothing good planned for you. "I want to see you in my chambers tonight."
He doesn't wait for your reaction or response. He just walks out with a springy, energetic step, closing the door behind him with a bang.
You shiver as you find yourself alone in the room with Lady Jessica's corpse. You look around, and, in a desperate attempt to find some positives, you decide that at least your blood isn't staining the floor of the ship... or at least not yet.
His chambers in the main base on Arrakis are not as... ornately terrifying as those he had in Giedi Prime. You wouldn't guess that someone important lived there. It was an ordinary room with a bed, a chest of drawers, and a bathroom. No amenities, just a commander's room; definitely too poor for a na-baron.
You shiver as you feel his hand on your hip. He pulls you to his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your hair. He sighs, inhaling your scent. The warm air on your neck is tickling you gently. You think about how it's been too easy for him to sneak up on you lately. You've gone out of shape.
"Are you planning how to escape, little witch?" He whispers hoarsely, playing with the fabric of your nightgown.
"I didn't. And believe me, I had better opportunities in the past. So why would I escape now?" You answer his question with your own one, irritated by his suspicions.
"Because unlike me, you are very reluctant to welcome our Kwisatz Haderach into this world." You roll your eyes at his words and turn your head to give him an annoyed look. He shrugs with a smirk. He presses a kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder before resting his chin on it. "You're obviously trying to distance yourself from me, too." He adds, seeing the irritated frown on your forehead.
“Weren't you the one who thought the Bene Gesserit prophecies were just bullshit from stoned old women?” You ask, raising your eyebrows in challenge.
"I did… but this particular one seems very convincing..." He purrs into your neck. He moves one hand from your hip so his finger can trace the red line of the wound he gave you with the dagger. He tilted your head back, forcing you to rest your head on his shoulder as he placed a trail of kisses on the small scar.
"Where are your harpies?" You ask when he starts showing too much interest in your neck, peppering it with kisses.
"Should I call them? Would you like them to join us?" You wrinkle your nose, at which he laughs, amused, tightening his hold on you.
"Of course not. You know that I have... no sympathy for them." You grumble, trying to break free from his grip, which, of course, he won't let you.
"The feeling is mutual. You know, they think you're stealing me from them. And that I will quickly get bored with you, like with other... oriental pets I had, and I will come back to them."
"What are you waiting for, then?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. He chuckles darkly, shaking his head. His hand plays with the strap of your black sleep gown, gently stroking your bare skin. He leans down, nuzzling your temple, and whispers in your ear:
“The problem is, my dear little witch, that you have taken over every ounce of my thoughts. My dreams, my nights, my days… it seems only right that I get back the time I wasted dreaming about you, right?”
You shiver, both from his words and from the way his hand slides over your body like a snake. He strokes your breasts, taking a moment to focus on them before his hand rests on your hips again. He presses you against him, clinging to you like a second skin.
"Let's go to bed. It was a very long day. For both of us..." He says, directing you towards his bed. You resist him slightly by digging your heels into the floor, but he quickly counters this by lifting you up gently, leaving your feet dangling in the air.
"Wouldn't you rather sleep alone? It's pretty warm here." You try to get out of it one last time, feeling the soft silk of his black sheets beneath you as he gently places you on his bed. He laughs mockingly, amused by your poor attempt at escape.
"Not at night. You know that well. I'd rather keep an eye on you, little witch. We don't know what monsters may be lurking in the darkness of Arrakis after we killed the Reverend Mother of those rats." He purrs, laying down next to you. You sigh as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to him, knowing full well that your safety is the last thing he's worried about right now.
"If Paul Atreides survived, it is very likely that he could be Muad'Dib. He will come here. To avenge his mother and unborn sister." You warned him. You're trying to make this situation more… normal. Lying in his bed and in his arms wasn't the least bit normal for you, but making plans with him was. You needed to keep your mind occupied until you could fall asleep… if he let you fall asleep.
"You didn't stop me from killing her. You didn't say a word. Why? Were you afraid you'd be next?"
You shake your head. You're not going to tell him the whole truth about what you felt back then, but you know you can't lie to him. You have to tell him at least half the truth if you want to regain some of his trust... at least until you escape.
"Lady Jessica believed that Paul was the real Kwisatz Haderach, since she gave Duke Leto a son instead of a daughter. The Bene Gesserit resented her for this. She was supposed to give him a daughter. A daughter who was to marry you and give you a real Kwisatz Haderach. By disobeying their orders, she fell into their disfavour... until she gave them the idea that they might as well... fuse me with you to secure your bloodline. But the Bene Gesserit came up with the idea that I was going to be the mother of the Kwisatz Haderach. If I hadn't gone with you that night... I might as well have died at her hands. I… I guess I was glad that I survived her."
Not looking at his face helps you partially open up to him. You didn't like remembering your past. This was the one thing you had in common. You try your best to reveal as little to him as you have to, unconsciously tracing patterns in his hand as he keeps hugging you from behind. If you turned around, you would have seen his small smile at your gesture quickly disappear as he sensed the growing tension within you at the thought of Lady Jessica.
"If I had known, I would have made it more painful for her." He states, taking your hand in his and squeezing it. You look down at your joined hands and frown as he slowly strokes the skin of your hand with his thumb.
"Why?" You ask in a whisper, not moving an inch when he buries his nose in your hair.
"Because no one hurts what's mine."You snort, knowing full well the true meaning of his words. If you were just a naive young girl, you would believe in the good intentions behind these words. However, you know Feyd Rautha too well to naively believe that he won't break his favourite toys. He grabs your chin in a tight grip and turns you to face him. You swallow thickly as his intense gaze meets yours. You've never had the chance to look so closely at his icy blue eyes... "I want you by my side all the time. I need to make sure you're not planning anything behind my back, little witch."
"Haven't I proven my loyalty enough?" You ask, placing your hands on his bare chest and pushing yourself away from him gently. He chuckles darkly, letting go of your chin in a split second to grab your wrists in a tight grip. He lifts your hands, pushing them away from him and twisting them so you can't move them.
"I believe you are capable of doing much more." He murmurs against your throat, pressing kisses there and lazily sucking at your skin, which was already irritated by his dagger.
You squirm in his arms, trying to somehow protect your neck from his wandering lips. Your attempts fail, as you only give him more fun by grinding against him in a desperate attempt to escape.
Eventually, he gets bored and decides to let you go. He lets you turn your back on him again, but you don't get far. His arms wrap around you, holding you in a cage as he takes on the role of the big spoon.
"I will bring you the head of Atreides on a golden plate. There is only one Kwisatz Haderach—our future son. I won't let some dog from Caladan tell people otherwise." He whispers in your ear. You shiver, half-wishing you were stupid enough to believe in his devotion. The fact that someone can do anything you want for you. But it wasn't love. It was just an obsession. You had to remember that.
"Maybe he really is the one… or maybe it's all just nonsense made up by those old hags? Maybe there will be no Kwisatz Haderach at all? What's then?" He doesn't answer your questions. However, you manage to get some reaction out of him.
He pulls away from you, the bed creaking beneath him as you hear him turn over to his other side. The sudden chill of not having his body close to yours makes you shiver.
You find yourself regretting for a moment that whatever you said made him distance himself from you. You shake your head and sigh, sinking deeper into the pillows. You try to find the most comfortable position possible when settling down to sleep. But for some reason, you don't feel tired at all. Your eyes are wide open as you listen to his soft breathing, the only other sound in the empty room.
"How did you find out about… uncle?" His sudden question makes you turn towards him. He remains turned away from you, ignoring any movement from you. You think for a moment, staring at the scars scattered across his pale, muscular back, before answering him.
"I have eyes and ears. And enough brain cells to… deduce a few things." You whisper, tracing a particularly nasty-looking scar on his back with the pad of your thumb. "I also... I went through something similar. I've told you that before. Bene Gesserit was to me what your uncle is to you." He turns slowly to face you at your words. His eyes examine you so thoroughly that you feel another shiver run through your body.
This time, when he reaches out to cup your cheek, you don't fight him. You let him, trying to decipher the unreadable look in his eyes as he continues to consider your words.
"Tell me... how could I resist when you're like this? How could I ignore you and leave you in your shadows when everything you do fascinates me to a madness that only you can heal?" He asks, tracing the line of your lips with the pad of his thumb.
"You wanted to kill me today." You remind him in an accusatory tone. You bite the tip of his finger, which only brings a smirk to his face as he moves his hand away from your face. He places it on your hip, squeezing it in a silient warning.
"I wanted to scare you. You lied to me, so you needed some punishment. Besides, you know perfectly well that if I really wanted to kill you, you would already be dead."
"Not telling the whole truth is not a lie. Besides… your intentions don't make this situation any different to me." You huff, rolling your eyes. He laughs huskily, caressing your hip through the fabric of your nightgown as he moves closer to you on the bed. Your chest is pressed against his. Both of you are breathing steadily and slowly, staring intently into each other's eyes.
"Are you afraid of the little old me, my little witch?" He asks teasingly. You catch yourself watching the sparkle of amusement in his eyes shine surprisingly brightly under the light of the Arrakis moon. You can't make yourself turn your gaze off of him. And that's what terrifies you.
"Should I?" You ask in a whisper, trembling, not giving him an ounce of trust. Seeing your extremely distrustful and hostile attitude, he stops smiling. He looks at you more seriously, as he is deep into his thinking.
He doesn't respond to you. He places a kiss on your forehead and turns your back to him. He holds you tightly, buries his nose in your hair, and slowly falls asleep, wrapping himself in your warmth and scent. On your back, you feel his heart beating calmly in his strong, well-built chest. You allow yourself to sigh shakily, being finally 'alone' for the first time since this fateful day began.
And you realise that you're not afraid of him at all. The only person you are afraid of is yourself. That you would give in to your strange attraction to him one day and seal your fate. You didn't want to die. But you'd rather find yourself buried under the sands of Arrakis than let those Bene Gesserit witches control your life ever again.
"If you tear this, you'll be walking around with my hand around your throat." He warns you, seeing you struggling with the black leather choker around your neck he gave you. It looked like a fucking collar. And it was a bit too tight for you to feel comfortable in it.
"You give me so many options…" You snort sarcastically, leaving the damn choker around your neck. "I look like a fucking whore." You say and turn towards him to look at him carefully.
He wore his more formal black armour with a cape that was as dark as the rest of his outfit. He smiles sarcastically and walks over to you. He smoothes the fabric of your dress on your waist and places his hands on your hips.
"Whore? Not at all. More like my pet." He hums, trying to take in your form in a form-fitting black dress. The silver chains on your hips and chest connect into a spider's web that flows down with the fabric of the skirt of the dress, which surprisingly doesn't cling as tightly to your body as the bodice of the dress does.
It's... definitely a bolder outfit than you're used to wearing. And this time, your hair was loose. The maids put silver accessories and small diamond jewels into your hair. You were a nicely wrapped gift, especially prepared for the Na-Baron's birthday.
"What's the difference?" You ask, raising an eyebrow defiantly.
"Calm down, little witch. Rumours about your past spread quickly. We can't let people see me as a weak man who fell under the spell of a Bene Gesserit, can we?" He teases you. He leans towards you and nuzzles your cheek before his lips start to trace a path along your jaw to your neck. You sigh slightly and place your hands on his chest, trying to keep him at a distance.
"Please. Don't pretend you're not doing it for your own fucking satisfaction." You snap at him, still trying to push him away. He puts the dagger on your neck rather quickly and too suddenly, making you refrain from any form of protest for a moment as he decorates your neck with hickeys.
"I'm not even trying to deny it at all… you look stunning, by the way." He growls hoarsely. His blade moves from your neck to the top of your corset, pressing the tip against the valley between your breasts. You sigh, feeling the coolness of the blade against your chest.
"They are waiting for you." You whisper as he nuzzles his nose against yours.
"We have a moment... besides, it's my birthday. Don't you want to celebrate my adulthood?" His low tone of voice sends shivers down your spine. Even after he tosses his blade aside, you make no move to try to walk away from him.
"You're still acting like the horny teenager I met. I doubt you will ever grow up."
"Watch what you say… I can always show you how hornier I became." His warning is not just lip service. He shows it to you... very clearly as his hard length rubs against your thigh.
You grab his jaw tightly and take a step away from him. He laughs, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back into his arms in one quick movement. You gasp in shock, falling into his chest. You struggle in his embrace until he slaps your ass. You glare at him furiously, at which he only tightens his grip on you.
"I want you to paint my body before the fight." He mumbles, caressing your cheek as you try to pull your head back from him.
Leading members of the high houses gathered on Arrakis to celebrate his birthday and the fact that he had managed to restore the mining and export of spices to extraordinary levels.
Feyd was to put on a spectacle, killing the most dangerous Fremen who managed to be kept alive during interrogations. However, you and Feyd have bigger worries to take care of right now. Like the baron and the emperor. Or Paul Atreides... or rather, their Muad'dib, who has not been found by you yet. Something Feyd decided to ignore for now in favor of groping you and trying to get into your pants.
Over the last few weeks, he has clung to you like a limpet. It made it very difficult for you to do any work or spy, as he was literally following you around. You felt like his favourite dog on a leash, taken for walks around the building before locking you in his chambers for the night, keeping you close to him. Even his harpies couldn't take his attention away from you. Something you really hoped would happen soon.
"It's always been… your harpies' privilege." You say as he tangles his hand in your hair.
"And now I want you to do it." He says it calmly, caressing your cheek as you try to pull your head back from him. "Do you mind?" You huff at his condescending question.
"Don't ask me questions like that; otherwise, I'll start thinking that I really have a choice here." He laughs, showing you a set of his freshly painted black teeth and shakes his head at you.
"We both know you're too smart for that, my shrewd little witch." He says this and leans in, gently brushing your lips with his. He keeps a tight grip on your hair as his kiss becomes more intense and possessive. He tightens his grip on your waist, tugging at the fabric of your dress, causing the silver chains on it to clang against each other with every move of his hand.
His hand reaches for the strings of your corset at the back, but before he can untie even one of them, there's a knock on the door.
"My Lord Na-Baron, the Baron, and your brother have just landed on Arrakis. The emperor should also be arriving soon."
You feel him tense slightly as he pulls away from you. His face hardens as he puts on his emotionless mask, staring out the window, where he could probably see the ship landing.
"Come on, little witch. I don't need to remind you to be on your best behaviour, right?" You roll your eyes at him, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow.
"I think I can play your concubine for a day. Consider this my birthday gift to you, my Na-Baron." You say it sarcastically and sweetly, walking with him out of his room and towards the great hall where he would greet everyone gathered. If you were lucky enough, you might be able to escape from him for a moment or two...
"In my chambers as well?" He asks teasingly, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him trying not to smile, but the corner of his lip twitches, giving him away (at least to you).
"Anywhere but there." You reply quickly, making him smile this time. At least for a second. After all, he has a reputation to uphold.
"That's okay. We don't need to do it there. There are so many other places…" He whispers hoarsely in your ear before you enter the room where the first party is to be held. You can't stop a cold shiver from running down your spine.
Doors are opening for you. You wait for him to let go of your waist and move in front of you like he usually does at these types of parties with the concubines he brought for company, but he doesn't do that at all. Instead, he tightens his grip on your waist and holds you by his side as he navigates through the sea of people. You can't help but blush slightly.
If you had any doubts over the last few weeks that he was no longer interested in you, they were gone with his small gesture. He will indeed ruin you. As soon as he finds the opportunity suitable. You were afraid that the evening of his birthday might be considered in his eyes as a perfect time to do this.
But somehow you manage to get out of his sight. You position yourself against the wall, having a perfect view of the most important people in the room. The Baron and Feyd were talking about something with the Emperor and his daughter. You look at them curiously, especially since the Harkonnens have their backs turned to you. And looking at Princess Irulan in a silver dress that was constructed to resemble armour, you see in her your chance for freedom. If Feyd married her, he would probably get over his strange obsession with you.
"Lady Y/N." Feyd's older brother's mocking greeting reaches your ears. You turn to him, taking your eyes off Feyd for a moment, and nod to the man standing next to you.
"Count Rabban."
"I heard you and my brother dealt with the rats of Arrakis. My congratulations." You are quite wary of his civilised attitude. The last time you saw him, Feyd made him kiss his shoes. And yours. So you definitely didn't stay in... a neutral relationship after that.
"Na-Baron is a great commander." You reply with a polite smile. Your eyes involuntarily wander to Feyd. There's a knot in your stomach when you see him talking to the princess. You frown, wondering what the hell is wrong with you.
"I have no doubt." He nods, also looking at Feyd. "He will destroy you. Like any toy he had before you. When you lose your usefulness, he will throw you to his harpies. He's more unpredictable than me or even my uncle. But you know that... so what are you still doing by his side?" He asks, turning his gaze on you.
"I am his right hand. I live to serve him." You answer automatically, shrugging your shoulders.
"If I had known that Bene Gesserit witches were so devoted, I might have appointed one to be my right hand."
"Believe me, count Rabban, the overwhelming majority would not serve him or anyone else so loyally as I do. They would probably prefer to poison themselves." He laughs at your words, taking two drinks from the passing servant. He hands you one, but you shake your head. "I don't drink if I don't have to. Old habits from my home planet. My mother would slap my sisters and me on the hands until she could see our bones as a punishment for stealing a drink or two." You're half lying when you remember how the Reverend Mothers made sure you were completely… untainted by any substances that could make you less healthy. All for breeding. Like farm animals.
"And they say the Harkonnens are monsters. At least you can get drunk with us… well, before we torture you to death or accidentally kill you."
"I've gotten used to it. Fortunately, I have fast reflexes." You reply with a smirk, knowing full well what he's trying to do. He wanted to ingratiate himself with you while you were still important in the Harkonnen court. His brother currently despised him, and his uncle probably did too. He saw an opportunity to increase his political influence when he spotted you alone.
Suddenly, you feel someone's intense gaze on you. You turned your face to notice that Feyd's eyes were on you and not on the princess, with whom he was still talking. Judging by the way your skin was burning from the look Feyd was giving you, you could tell he didn't like his brother being close to you at all.
And Feyd was incredibly pissed off and furious. In his eyes, Rabban wasn't worthy enough of your time, attention, or even being close to you to have the pleasure to smell the scent of your perfumes. But not only did his brother have the courage to talk to you; he even made you smile. Feyd was already planning in his mind how to tear his head off.
Na-Baron would have done just that if an arrow had not suddenly passed between him and Princess Irulan.
Panic filled the room when suddenly, a hail of arrows hit random people. You grabbed your blade and were about to move towards the first archer you noticed, but suddenly a cold steel was pressed against your neck. The Fremen woman holds you tight. You can only stand there calmly and watch as they overpower the more important representatives of the great families, leading the less important people out of the room. Feyd's blue irises are focused on you all the time, which surprisingly makes you feel a little better.
"Silience!" You freeze when you see Paul Atreides emerge from the crowd of Fremen.
Your informants haven't told you much about him. He had done well since he was forced to live on Arrakis among the Fremen. He became stronger, smarter, and more ruthless. He had no weaknesses… except one. You look around the room, your eyes locking on the woman who stood a few metres away from you. His lover.
If living among powerful men taught you anything, it was that they only had a few weaknesses. Fear for their lives, property, title, and, among those younger and less experienced in life, their loved ones. But Paul Atreides changed on Arrakis. He wasn't the little boy you knew during your training with his mother. You could only hope that he loved his woman enough to consider rescuing her. Maybe you will buy enough time before your trops, waiting on ships above Arrakis, come to rescue you.
"Let me go. Give me your blade. Keep your mouth shut and close your eyes for the next 30 minutes." You use your voice on the woman who holds you.
While she does what you told her, you try to get to Atreides' lover unnoticed. You ignore his speech; your heart is racing in your chest, and all you can hear is the sound of your blood flowing in your blood vessels.
When you reach the Fremen woman, you quickly disarm her and press your dagger to her neck. Atreides stops his speech. Before anyone can react, you take a deep breath and say loudly:
"Everyone ten steps back. Stay still, or slit your throat with the nearest weapon." Everyone in the room is listening to you. You have to take a few steps back with the woman you have in your iron grip. You tremble as you feel the eyes of everyone in the room on you, especially Feyd's. However, your gaze is fixed only on Paul Atreides.
"This is impossible… what are you?" He asks in shock, not moving after you forced him and everyone else in the room to back away from you.
"It doesn't matter, Atreides. Take your men and get out of here. I advise you well." You growl furiously at him. You feel the blood start to pulsate in your veins. The old wound on your side is slowly starting to open up under the pressure your body is going through. You're glad you're wearing a black dress. At least not all of them will see the blood stain on your dress when it will be leaking out of you more and more by the second.
"You cannot keep them under your will forever. You'll soon get tired, faint, or bleed to death." He reasons, fully aware that your crowd control is time-limited.
"My men will be landing here soon. They'll take everyone who counts and fly away with us, raining nuclear bombs on your precious little desert. The spice from these areas may have been contaminated for several centuries, but we still have the opposite pole of Arrakis to exploit and extract it. So better choose wisely."
He frowns at your words, looking at you carefully and analysing your facial expressions carefully. You stare at him hard and unfazed, even though you feel the fabric of your dress sticking to your open wound. You have a staring fight with each other until you press your dagger a little more into the woman's throat and take her blood. He looks briefly at his girl before he opens his mouth to speak.
"We've met before, right?"
"You have one minute to make a decision before I make your woman bleed to death in front of you." You say hoarsely, feeling your muscles tremble slightly. But you hold on with all your might, maintaining your calm, dangerous, hostile attitude.
You all wait in suspense to see what he will do. He might as well attack and kill you, risking his men overpowering any reinforcements that come to your rescue. But you hope he's considerate enough to back off. If not because of the people who came after him, then because of his girlfriend or concubine, whose life now depends solely on you.
You almost sigh in fucking relief when he takes a step back. You let him get out of your control, looking at him carefully all the time. You swallowed and let go of his woman.
"Follow your Muad'Dib." You command the people of the desert. They stare at you for a moment before their eyes rest anxiously on their leader. He nods at them as he slowly leaves the room.
As quickly as they arrived, they left. You stand at attention for a long time—a minute, an hour, or hours—until you hear the ship approaching and the movement of the sands of Arrakis under the influence of sandworms.
They left. You realise this with relief. However, it is a very short-lived relief. It ends when your eyes meet the eyes of the reverend mothers, who are clearly communicating with each other. You fucked up. You revealed that you were a Bene Gesserit, or at least that you knew some of their tricks. Unconsciously, you completely let go of control over the gathered crowd.
"Why didn't you wait for your people so we could kill them? Kill him?" The emperor's voice reaches you vaguely. You raise your head and meet the gaze of an old man standing a few steps away from you.
"I bluffed, my emperor." You reply shakily, feeling blood start to flow from your nose as well.
"What?" He asks in shock, unable to believe that all your talk was a pure bluff. You don't have the strength to explain anything. You can stare blankly at the floor, feeling your strength slowly begin to drain away after you use the voice on the people gathered in the room.
"I bluffed." You repeat, feeling your heart beat rapidly against your chest. Your vision becomes completely blurry; all you can hear is the buzzing in your ears, the pounding of your heart, and the slow dripping of your blood onto the floor.
"But… you…" Whatever he was about to say, he's interrupted by you falling to your knees. You don't register at all what's happening around you. The only thing you are sure of is that there are suddenly a lot of people around you.
You're clinging to what little consciousness you have when you suddenly feel something pull you against the hard wall of muscle. You lean against the unexpected support, slowly drifting into blissful unconsciousness as you no longer feel the pain from the open wound on your side. The hoarse call of your name makes you a little more aware, enough to distinguish Feyd's voice from the indistinct gibberish around you.
"Get a medic here!"
He whispers something else to you as he brushes your hair out of your face, but you don't hear anything anymore. You let yourself go into the blissful darkness, happy that you can rest, at least for a moment. And you feel surprisingly comfortable, with the warmth of his arms and his scent being the last things you feel before passing out.
You're surprised that when you wake up in the hospital wing, there's no one at your bed, looking at you like a guard dog. Once you get used to the feeling of being fully aware, you rub your eyes. The moonlight shines through the window, illuminating a dark and empty room you found yourself in.
You ignore the strange twinge in your chest when you don't see your Na-Baron anywhere near you and slowly sit up on the bed. You check the status of your wound and are pleased to see that you are in a more stable condition than you were a few hours ago.
You place your feet on the floor and slowly stand up, testing your muscles. You're relieved to see that it's not as bad as it was in the past. You walk over to the chair where a black silk robe is hanging and put it on. You take a moment to search the room, smiling hugely when you find your daggers on the nightstand next to your bed. You attach one to your thigh and tuck the other inside the sleeve of your robe. Maintaining great silence, you tiptoe out of the room.
You sigh in relief as you wander the empty corridors again, hiding in their shadows. You feel like a newborn, like a fish that has returned to the current of a familiar river. You weren't aware of how therapeutic it was for you to wander the halls alone at night until Feyd trapped you in his arms and his bed practically every night. You missed it. Very much so.
However, today's attempted attack by Atreides made you realise that you were too focused on getting away from Harkonnen and trying to keep him at a distance. You had to take action. Otherwise, Paul Atreides will cut off your head, just like his mother once wanted to do.
You shudder as you remember the day you escaped from the Bene Gesserit sisters' sanctum.
You ran barefoot through familiar corridors in the cold, dark night. You didn't need a torch or other light. You had lived within these walls long enough to know which corridors ended in dead ends and where to turn to reach each gate. But Lady Jessica knew them as well as you. You had to be a lot smarter if you were going to escape the woman who wanted you dead.
Yesterday there was a great meeting of Reverend Mothers after Lady Jessica failed to give birth to Leto Atreides' daughter at the right time. The Reverend Mothers had to find... a new breeding mare for Feyd Rauthy, from whose blood the Kwisatz Haderach was to be created. They chose you. And now, because of this honour that had been a death sentence for you from the very beginning—a curse, an evil fate that seemed to have stuck with you since your birth—Lady Jessica had tried to kill you in your sleep and was now trying to complete her work.
You decide to go to the ramp, hoping that you might be able to capture some small ship—something flying around—that would get you away from those damn Bene Gesserit.
You knew you were too weak to fight Lady Jessica. She taught you a lot, but not how to defeat someone stronger, like her. If you wanted to live, you needed to find a way to escape.
You speed up as you hear the click of her heels behind you. You run as fast as you can, reaching the door just as Lady Jessica appears at the end of the hall. You close the door behind you with a loud snap. You sigh, leaning against it for a moment. You freeze as you feel the blade against your throat.
"Step away." You order in panic before opening your eyes. A cold chill runs through you as you see Na-Baron Harkonnen's cold blue irises staring at you in shock as he obediently steps away from you.
You stand there for a few minutes, staring at each other without saying anything. Na-Baron examines you carefully: your dishevelled state, rapid breathing, red cheeks, and bare feet. You have no idea what he deduced, but it was enough for him to not immediately slit your throat for using the voice on him.
"You should go back to your sisters, little witch. Unless you want to join me, I wouldn't say no to the company of... such a pretty mouse." He speaks hoarsely. He doesn't wait for your answer, though. He simply turns and walks slowly towards the ship his men are packing. You swallow and wonder: Is death at the hands of Lady Jessica or at the hands of Harkonnen? Your pride chooses for you.
"I'm not a mouse, I'm a warrior." You reply, gathering all your inner courage. Na-Baron stops in his way.
His raspy laugh sends another shiver down your spine as he slowly turns back to face you. He approaches you slowly, each step perfectly calculated as he stands a few millimeters in front of you, invading your personal space. You raise your head proudly and meet his gaze with your own, determined one.
Which impresses him.
So much so that he reaches for the dagger strapped to his hip. You don't flinch when he runs the tip of the dagger across his tongue. You watch him closely, waiting for him to either slit your throat or accept the challenge. Feyd is surprised. And very curious—too curious—to simply walk away and continue on his path. That's why he takes your hand in his and hands you the dagger he was just testing.
"So show me what you can do, little witch. Except for using that honeyed voice of yours." He says it mockingly and takes two steps back, drawing another hidden blade from his armour.
You don't remember the entire fight clearly. The adrenaline was pumping through you so much that you only remember snippets of that dance with him with daggers in your hands. Surprisingly, neither of you disarmed the other. You stopped as you both placed your blades against the other's flesh—at points that would guarantee instant death if either of you decided to press the blade against the skin a little harder.
"You fight well, little witch." He praises you, moving away from you. "You're wasting yourself here." He says, looking at you acutely for a long time, considering something. But finally, he nods at you and turns again to join his men and board the ship. You quickly grab his hand before he gets too far away from you. You feel him tense at your touch, but he doesn't make any moves.
"Let me go with you. My blade will be an extension of yours, Na-Baron. I'll be your spy from the shadows, just... get me out of here." He widens his eyes slightly, unprepared for such a request. He turns towards you and glares at you with his icy irises.
It could very well be a trick from those witches, but Feyd would be lying if he didn't say that you caught his attention the first day he saw you training. And he really wanted to see what you were really capable of doing. Few had the guts to challenge him. And he found it somehow charming—how your eyes shone with determination every time you held the blade in your hands.
"Your sisters won't be happy when they find out that I took one of them to Giedi Prime." He says, feigning hesitation. His people knew him well. If he wanted something, he took it. A group of old witches wouldn't stop him, not now that he saw... great potential in you. Maybe not only as one of his soldiers.
"With all due respect, your house is not known for following anyone's rules except those you set. I… I can't stay here any longer."
His heart beat faster, seeing the desperation and helplessness in your eyes. Normally, he would laugh at someone who showed him weakness and kill him on the spot without much thought. But you... when you stared at him with those pleading eyes of yours, flushed from fighting him... it did something to him.
Feyd knew the feeling of helplessness. His uncle loved making him feel this way. And Feyd himself finds great enjoyment in making others feel that way. Humiliated. Weak. Scared. Somehow he didn't like the fact that staying in the sisterhood made you... feel like that and do such desperate actions as coming with him to Giedi Prime.
However, he had no intention of letting go of such a valuable bird that was voluntarily pushing itself into his cage.
"Well, you fight better than most of my men... I will make you my right hand. And as for your Bene Gesserit sisters..." You sigh softly as he reaches for your hair and cuts it in half. He cuts your shoulder and dips the cut hair in your blood. You see him put a few strands in his pocket, before he handed them to his servant, growling something at him in his native language. You raise an eyebrow at him. "I told him to convey my thanks to the Reverend Mother for... sending me a delightful toy. He might also mention that my darlings liked your meat." You nod, swallowing. He laughs mockingly, patting your shoulder. "You have many things to learn, little witch. You better prove to me that I wasn't wrong about you, or you will suffer exactly the fate that my servant will pass on to your sisters. I don't like weakness and disappointment."
"I have no intention of disappointing you, Na-Baron."
"Good. Come with me. I'm fed up with this planet. Besides, you need to change your clothes if you don't want my men to think you're a whore they can enjoy while on our journey." He nods and walks towards the ship. You follow him like his shadow, casting cold, sinister glances at the people staring at you.
"I am perfectly capable of defending myself, my lord." You reply confidently as you walk with him up the ramp to the Harkonnen ship. You see a small smile appear on his face at your words.
"I don't doubt that. However, I wouldn't want to lose more people than necessary. It's supposed to be your job to clean up after me, not the other way around, little witch." He responds, testing you and carefully watching your reaction. You don't flinch, perfectly prepared and familiar with... the brutality of the Harkonnens.
"Duly noted. There's only one thing I don't understand." He doesn't stop in his steps, but he gives you a quick glance and hums, allowing you to continue and ask a question. "I appreciate it very much, but… why didn't you kill me at the entrance?"
He chuckles hoarsely at your question and stops at a specific door. He turns to look at you, a spark of amusement shining in his eyes as he studies you like a predator would its prey before deciding to answer you.
"You didn't apologise or beg for your life. I found it... very refreshing." He says, opening the door. The metallic smell of blood fills your nostrils. You look into the room and see several prisoners chained to the wall of the ship with some strange cuts on their chests—probably some words in Harkonnen."Your first task, little witch. My darlings are very hungry. They will need the meat of my enemies. Come back here in an hour... I should finish by then. And change that rag you wear. I want to see you only in black." He orders, closing the door behind him with a bang.
You stand in the hallway for a moment, blinking and staring at the door, as you are suddenly thrown into a new reality that you have to get used to. You mutter a series of curses under your breath as you go searching for... any clothes or shoes. The cold metal of the ship's floor and the dried blood in some places made walking around on your bare feet quite uncomfortable.
Feyd-Rautha was indeed psychopathic... but it was better for you to be the devil's right hand than his mistress. And it was certainly better to inhale the toxins of Giedi Prime than to smell the flowers from underneath your grave.
You find yourself in front of a door that you don't want to go through. But you know you have to do it if you want to remain free and independent of anyone. You couldn't escape now. Not before Feyd-Rautha. You had to pay the price of your freedom with someone else's freedom. And you were ruthless enough to do it without blinking an eye. Maybe the years of living with Harkonnen really made you one of them...
You knock and enter the cave of Feyd's three harpies.
As you might expect, they don't welcome you very warmly. As soon as you close the door behind you, you hear their hisses. They stop feasting on some Fremen and glare at you, slowly approaching you.
"Relax, ladies. I'm here... to make a small agreement." You announce, taking a seat in the only chair that, surprisingly, isn't covered in anyone's blood. The women look at each other distrustfully and approach the table where you are sitting.
"Agreement?"
"With a little witch?"
"We don't make any agreements with our meals; we simply eat them."
You don't flinch at their words. Instead, you nod and draw your dagger when they get too close to you. Two of them move away automatically, but one—the oldest of them—continues to look at you. You give her a cold and dispassionate glare as you play with the blade in your fingers.
"But that's exactly what I'm talking about. About... a food. A great meal. A feast you will remember for a long time, ladies." You try your best to sound encouraging.
Their eyes light up, interested as you meet a fresh meal. You know perfectly well that they haven't eaten anything... desirable for a long time. They probably had to drag the body of this miserable man to their chamber themselves since you didn't have time to... make sure they were fed. And if there's one thing you can get on Giedi Prime with something other than power and sex, it's food.
"The little witch is planning something…"
"The little witch is up to something interesting…"
"The little witch wants to do something against our master…"
You look at them unfazed as they read that you have no clear intentions at all when it comes to working with them. But anyone who managed to survive on Giedi Prime and Arrakis was surely a man whose conscience had gone a long time ago.
And maybe your plan wasn't good for everyone... but it was definitely good for you. And Feyd. He'll agree with you... or at least you hope so. You're still not sure if his obsession with you was just a passing whim or if he really wanted to keep you with him. But you didn't want to end up like his concubines and pets.
"Possibly... but isn't that what you want? For your master to give you his attention again instead of taking care of me?" This seems to interest them even more than the promise of food.
"What do you want, little witch?" The oldest harpy asks you, looking at you carefully. You give her a mischievous, sinister smirk.
'"Have you ever thought of feasting on the Baron?" Your question hangs in the room. The harpies watch you carefully, smiling slowly and showing a row of black teeth.
Nothing united women like a common enemy.
To be continued...
Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @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 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896
#feyd rautha x reader#feyd rautha x you#feyd rautha x y/n#feyd rautha#feyd rautha harkonnen x reader#feyd rautha harkonnen#feyd x reader#feyd x you#feyd oneshot#house harkonnen#dune part 2#oneshot#feyd supremacy#feyd smut#feyd rautha x bene gesserit reader#feyd imagine#feyd rautha smut#feyd rautha harkonnen x you#smut#dark romance#toxic behavior
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Betty B. Dearing Trail from Wilacre Park
Join Jessica Chortkoff and Rich Riggio as they hike on trail and off, view a beautiful sunset, photograph several species of birds, get chased by a giant tarantula, and ponder Betty Dearing. The Wilacre Park entrance is right off of Laurel Canyon Blvd. at Fryman Place. Bring leases for your dogs, they will love this hike! If you live in Hollywood or Studio City and don't know about this, it's right under your nose, check it out! Wild life is everywhere and the air is fresh. Right now there are thousands of flowers blooming and the hillsides are nice and green and beautiful! Om!
#youtube#hiking#trail#los angeles#california#jessica chortkoff#rich riggio#romantic#date#funny#birds#nature#natural history#history#night hike#giant spider#betty dearing#laurel canyon#photography#trees#hammocks#wilacre park#sunset#beautiful#tarantula
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Hello Cherry and congrats for your 1k! <3
My request would be a Miguel one, where he's a thigh lover and when he sees reader wearing a skirt for the first time (usually reader wears pants) and he just can't resist and ask for a thigh job and maybe a quickie <3
1K Prompts
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!reader
Warnings: Reader wears a skirt, NSFW, 18+, Smut with Slight Plot, Thigh Job, Quickie, Unprotected Penetrative Sex, Public Sex, Dirty Talking, Slight Hand Kink. Creampie
Summary: You should wear skirts more often
Word Count: 1.5K (Not Edited)
He doesn’t know what he did to deserve this, but thank fuck.
The moment you had walked out of the bedroom, a flowy skirt exposing your legs for his eyes to devour, he knew he was done for. He could practically feel the stiffening of his pants as he watched you walk, the ends of the skirt swaying with each step. Its a fucking tease the way one side would lift the slightest bit, revealing the smooth skin of your thigh before disappearing behind the fabric again. And the annoyed face you made over your shoulder at him as you complained of his slow pace just made him that much more eager to replace it with a fucked-out expression. It was criminal that you only wore a skirt for a group hangout and never for any of the dates the two of you went on.
So, it was no surprise when Miguel pulled you into his lap as he got comfortable in the booth. You had raised an eyebrow at him which he promptly ignored as he turned to listen to whatever Peter was rambling about. You huffed in annoyance, moving to get off only to have Miguel’s hand press into your lower stomach to hold you in place. A blush had instantly risen on your face as you saw his large hand on your body, your hand hesitantly came up and rested against his. A deeper blush came across your face as you compared hand sizes. It caused Miguel to blow out a chuckle against your ear.
Things had been fine since then. He shifted you on his lap every now and then to hide his boner, which he usually got from having you in his lap, but the two of you mostly basked in the presence of your friends. Until all your friends had decided to leave the table. A song that Jessica, MJ, and you knew by heart start to play through the loud club speakers, causing all of you to perk up. MJ and Jessica didn’t hesitate to pull their husbands out of the booth, excitedly moving to the dance floor. You had begun to follow them, only to have Miguel land both of his hands onto your thighs and keep you in place.
You were about to complain, only for all the air to escape your lungs as his hands trailed higher up. You nervously turned to him as he started to spread your thighs the slightest bit. From the shift of position, you could feel his erection still at the ready for your attention. As he pushed on the small of your back to get you up against the table you turned to him and scowled.
“Miguel. What are you doing?” You hissed as his hands went down to pull down the zipper of his pants. He fished into his pants for a second, his hand returning with his leaky cock.
“You look so pretty in that skirt, mi vida.” He mumbled in response as he repositioned you onto his lap again.
A soft gasp left you as you felt his cock slide against your underwear. He wasted no time leaning back and pressed your thighs against either side of his dick. He groaned at the feeling, keeping his hands to the side of your thighs as he subtly began to thrust upwards. A startled whimper left you as you grabbed onto the edge of the table to stop you from falling forward with his movements. One of your hands falls on top of his and you claw at it.
“M-Miguel,” You whisper out, leaning back against him as he squeezes at your thighs and speeds up his thrusts the tiniest bit. Both of you moan when he shifts his hips so he rubs perfectly against you. “We’re in public!”
He only grunts out in response as he continues his demonstrations. His heavy breathing hits against your ear as he tries to dampen his noises. A slight sweat starts to build on his skin that sticks your back to his front. Another surprised noise leaves you when he suddenly leans forward and presses your stomach against the table to deepen his thrusts.
“Skirt’s covering ‘verything. Feel s’good baby.” He slurs against your ear as he feels his peak coming. When you look down, you can see the rising and falling of your skirt as his tip hits against it. A damp spot is over the area, stained with his precum.
Your hand moves to press onto the area, timing it perfectly to when Miguel thrusts upwards. It does him in, a deep groaning leaving as he hits your hand and the damp spot grows with his cum. You can feel it fall to your thighs, a whimper leaving your mouth as the stickiness warms your skin. Miguel’s labored breathing is still pressed against your ear, his hands moving up to wrap around your waist.
“Are they done dancing?” Miguel mumbles against your shoulder. For a second you're confused, not quite comprehending what he means. Nonetheless, your eyes scan the dance floor before falling onto your friends. They’re still having fun despite the song changes.
When you shake your head, a pleased growl leaves Miguel before he’s standing you up. It’s a tight fit between the table and Miguel, but it doesn’t last long as he readjusts your skirt and tucks himself back into his pants. With his hands still around your waist, he guides you out of the booth and towards the bathrooms. A deep blush mars your cheeks as you feel his release drip down the side of your leg. You are a thousand times thankful that it’s too dark for anyone to see clearly.
The tension builds as Miguel pushes you into the gender neutral bathroom and locks the door. His brooding figure takes you and lifts you onto the sink counter, finding his way in between your spread legs. A satisfied groan leaves his mouth when he lifts your skirt and finds the remains of his come on your thighs. He trails his finger through it, smearing it more on your skin and collecting some on his finger. WIthout asking, you open your mouth and wait for him to place his finger on your tongue. When he does, you eagerly suck off his cum and the tiniest moan vibrates against his digit.
A pleased smile covers his mouth as he mumbles out a ‘that’s my good baby’ before his hands are pulling your underwear off. A damp spot marks where your crotch was, and Miguel holds it up to his nose with a moan before stuffing it into his pocket. You swat his shoulder with a giggle, the noise quickly dying out as he pushes his pants down to his thighs. Your mouth suddenly runs dry at his still hard cock as he fists it with sharp strokes as he studies your naked sex.
With his unoccupied hand, Miguel collects your arousal and spreads it against your hole, watching the way his finger preps you for him. Your hips instinctively push into his hand, a whine for more leaving you. Miguel tsks at your impatience, but steps closer to line himself up. His angry head circles your entrance, teasing you as he pushes it against your opening without the needed force to penetrate. A frustrated noise leaves you, and you buck your hips up to try to sink him inside you.
A heavy moan fills the bathroom as he thrusts all the way in at the same second. A loud ‘fuck’ rips out of Miguel’s mouth as he sinks in deep. You’re warm and tight around him, driving his mind crazy as he doesn’t waste a second pulling out and pushing back in hungrily. You try to fall into him as his thrusts spread unbearable pleasure through you, but he pushes you back. A displeased noise sounds from the back of your throat as your body gets put into a crunch-like position.
A satisfied noise leaves Miguel, getting the perfect view of his cock slipping in and out of you with your face in his peripheral vision. Your mouth is dropped open as heavy pants and soft noises escape and your hole sucks him in every time he pulls back. He keeps his hand pushed against your stomach to keep you in place and so he can feel the tell-tale tensing of your orgasm build. Your legs begin to shake and your hand comes to grab onto his arm as your back arches. A strangled grunt comes from Miguel as he feels you tighten with your release.
He isn’t far behind, filling you up with a thick warmth that has you on the verge of sobbing. The both of you take your time to calm down and regain your breathing. Miguel finally pulls out with a sharp hiss, watching as his release drips out of you and wetting your already soaked skirt. A triumphed glow radiates from him as he helps you sit up, his hand holding yours as his other pats down your hair the best he can. He holds onto you extra tight as you try to stand up, stumbling slightly from the ache under your skirt.
“Can I have my underwear back now, Migs?” You giggle once you finally get stable footing and watch as Miguel is about to leave the bathroom. Miguel only turns back to you with a raised eyebrow and shakes his head.
“No. Text the girls we’re leaving. I’m not done with you and that skirt yet.”
Wasn’t sure what to make the reader’s gender since it didn’t say, and girls and guys and the nons could all wear skirts!! So I’m sorry for the detail-lacking smut.
#cherry's requests🍒#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel ohara x you#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x you#atsv miguel#across the spiderverse#spider man 2099#miguel o hara#miguel ohara#miguel o'hara smut#spiderman 2099#marvel smut#cherry's specials!🍒
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