oneandonlybbygrl

[oneandonlybbygrl]

THE PRINCESS' SEVEN MERCENARIES

CHAPTER SEVEN : AN AWAITED TRUTH

relations. : cevans various/reader -- steve rogers/reader ; curtis everett/reader ; ari levinson/reader ; lloyd hansen/reader ; andy barber/reader ; jake jensen/reader ; ransom drysdale/reader

chpt. sum. : You're forced to tell the truth but it comes at a price Ari refuses to pay.

tags. : snow white and the seven dwarves au ; fairy tale au ; fluff ; domestic fluff ; angst if you squint ; a/b/o universe but it's not the central point ; disney princess reader and her seven sexy mercenaries hehe~ ; world building ; the truth comes out ; apologies are made ; steve is a good captain ; lloyd has conflicting feelings ; discussions on you becoming theirs ; ari makes everything better ; reader makes everything better too

length. : 8.4k

navi. | series masterlist

← six. the foolish genius

“I didn’t lie to you that first day; I told you my real name.” You look up from where you usually sit at the dinner table with pleading eyes. Seeing the transparent honesty in your expression and mannerisms, Andy nods when Steve looks to him for confirmation. That was all he needed. Over their time spent together on missions, Andy had become a reliable human lie detector. He knew what signs to look for in people they needed to interrogate or seek knowledge from — he worked with Ransom for quite some time until he was able to impart his knowledge to the Beta, who used it alongside his charm on overt missions. 

“It doesn’t explain who you are,” Lloyd huffs, still openly belligerent towards you that it makes you flinch. If he saw the effect he had, he didn’t draw attention to it; his gaze narrowed as much as his mind. 

“I understand your hostility, but I was only trying to escape and start a new, peaceful life for myself.” You avoid everyone's eyes, ashamed of your origins despite your ambitions of ruling one day and helping your kingdom thrive. Which had all now been tarnished by someone you didn’t dare cross while growing up. 

“... what do you mean by that?” Steve asks quietly, worry involuntarily spiking within him and making his chest ache. Were you in danger? That was the singular thought on everyone’s minds, and they simply couldn’t believe it— rather, they were in complete denial of the fact. Apart from the omissions of your true identity, you were a sweet, loving and kind individual, they can’t picture you wishing harm upon anyone. Nevertheless, because of the work they do, they cannot simply let it slide that they don’t know more about your background anymore, especially with the behaviours and knowledge you’re displaying, all of which aren’t typical of any normal person. 

“I-It’s hard to explain.”

“We have the time,” Andy says gently in an attempt to comfort you. However, there isn’t a significant change in your stiff posture, rather, you remain all the more rigid. Curtis, offering his silent comfort, reaches for your hand, where it rests on your lap beneath the table. In return, you muster a small but still rather stiff smile.

“I’ll make some tea first. It’s all too tense here, and our angel can’t comfortably talk to us if that’s the case.” Ari stands from his seat and easily moves to the kitchen, where he goes about putting the kettle on. 

“O-Oh umm… I made a relaxing tea blend earlier,” you helpfully point towards a small tin at the corner of the kitchen counter.

“What’s in it?” Ari asks curiously, opening the tin and taking a moment to smell the blend. 

“There’s lavender, apple, chamomile and vanilla. It goes well with honey.” You smile as Ari turns to you with approval written on his features, quickly closing the container again. 

“It smells really good.” He turns to the team. “Who else wants tea?” Everyone except Lloyd raises their hand and Ari scowls. “Majority vote, eh?” Ari smirks at their grump of an assassin, “I’ll just make tea for everyone then.” Lloyd huffs, tensing his already folded arms. 

“Why did you even bother to blend such a tea?” Lloyd asks without thinking and is caught off guard by your thoughtful response. 

“Everyone was looking a little tired recently, so I was hoping to invite you all for some tea after dinner. Hopefully, you’d be able to have more restful sleep with it,” you admit softly, looking down and playing with Curtis’s large hand in your lap. The silent giant of a man manages to smile warmly at you and lean forward to press his face into the side of your head. It’s a small, affectionate gesture that makes you look at him with gratitude and squeeze his hand in silent thanks. He’s a man whose actions speak louder than his words, and you hope that by engaging in his silent communication, you’d be able to understand him better. 

“Thank you for your consideration,” Andy expresses from across the table, sitting beside Steve, who looks conflicted but grateful for Andy’s utterance. The captain doesn’t feel as though he can comfortably voice his opinions right now, and not until you’ve revealed your true identity and that they can confirm you bring no danger to them. You’ve been a great presence to have around the cottage the few days you’ve been here, and you’ve made such a positive impact on everyone, but he just can’t risk the safety of his pack. He just hopes that, when the dust is settled, and you turn out not to have bad intentions, you can forgive him for raising his voice. He’s ashamed for doing so towards such a gentle-mannered lady like you. For now, he isn’t Steve, he is the Captain and the leader of his incomplete but complete pack. He needs to keep a level head to make the best decisions for his team. 

“Yeah, thanks a lot, princess!” Jake cheers positively from where he’s sat. “You’re always so considerate and sweet. Not like anything we’ve known.” Lloyd clicks his tongue and looks away, finding offence in such an innocent and truthful statement. He’s going to stand his ground on this, he knew you were too good to be true. There’s just no way someone could be so kind without having hidden intentions, he needs to nip this in the bud before the rest of his idiotic, whipped pack gets negatively impacted. 

“It’s alright.” You smile sweetly, and everyone waits in silence as Ari prepares the cups of tea. It feels slightly odd that you weren’t the one serving everyone for once. No matter how short your stay is, you’ve already become accustomed to the routine of attending to the men here. You weren’t complaining, though; you enjoyed helping them unwind after a long day, and they were all very sweet to you, too. Hopefully, they’ll be willing to let you stay after your explanation. It saddened you that it has to come to this, but it’s only fair that if you want to stay longer, there needs to be trust on both sides, and that means being honest with each other. 

Finally, Ari returned with eight cups of tea, a teapot if anyone wanted to refill their cup and a jar of honey so that anyone could sweeten their drink to their liking. Jake and Curtis were the first to reach for the honey pot. Words of gratitude for Ari’s gesture were muttered around the table, even from Lloyd, despite having no intention of drinking from his cup. 

“Take your time,” Andy assures you once again whilst everyone (except Lloyd) sips at their tea, and you give him a look of gratitude. It took a while, but your nerves finally calmed, and you felt as though you could speak again without stumbling over your words. 

“I am the princess of this proud kingdom...” You deduce that it’s best to just come out and say it as it is. It will make it easier to explain everything else as soon as everyone’s reactions have settled. 

“Th—… that can’t be…” Steve utters, eyes wide with disbelief as he takes you in. Ari collapses into his chair as Andy runs his fingers through his hair. In your lap, you feel Curtis’ large hand squeeze around your own, and when you look up, it’s hard to read his eyes or expression. 

“I’ve been calling you princess all this time—” Jake stumbles over his words, looking lost and confused, “I didn’t even...” he shakes his head and tries to distract himself by stirring more honey into his tea. 

Ransom furrows his brows at you, his eyes searching, “It must be a lie.” But when you shake your head and give him a solemn look, he bites his lip and looks away, muttering incoherently to himself. 

“Isn’t the princess a myth? The King never had a daughter, did he?” Lloyd breaks the tense silence in stubborn denial of your truth, but you know it’s just a hard fact to process; the queen made sure your existence faded.

“That’s just what she wants you to think.” 

“By ‘she’, you mean, the current Queen?” Andy asks and hums when you nod in confirmation. 

“My stepmother, yes.”

Andy tuts in disgust with a shake of his head. “Her ambitions are too high.” He meets eyes with Steve, who takes on a pondering stance, covering his mouth with his fingers and rubbing at his chin. This was a turn of events he was not expecting.

However, with your words and the bits of information he’s piecing together, Steve begins to speculate, “Then was the King actually killed in battle?...” or was it murder?

You sigh, “I don’t know... the war did happen, and my father did participate, but I never found out whether my father’s death was a fated event or one that was manipulated into a reality.”

There was another silence as everyone digested your existence. They want to deny it for how preposterous it sounds, but as they pondered deeper, it all began to make sense. You know things normal people couldn’t so easily divulge, and when asked to explain why, your default explanation is that you’re a well-read person who fostered knowledge from books available to you. However, such knowledge couldn’t possibly be obtained from readily available books found in common libraries — even their tech genius, an expert in all things magic-related, couldn’t match your understanding of magical artefacts and their history. From your warm lunches, they know that you have a high affinity for magic and can use it safely and consistently — a trait found in most high-standing people, especially the nobility. You’re articulate, and your mannerisms are too elegant for a normal individual to have; you move with a grace and presence that is gentle but powerful all at once.

Of course, you’re the princess. It makes too much sense that you are. On the other hand, there are also traits to you that aren’t typical of a royal. Primarily, you know how to do common chores, cook, clean, do laundry and repair clothes. High-standing people, especially the nobility, wouldn’t know how to do any of these things as they had servants for such minimal tasks. 

Despite that, it can’t be denied that you had the traits of a princess. But that begs the question of why you’re all the way out here and not at the royal palace.

“Then what was your life at the palace like?” Lloyd interjects eyes hardened into a disbelieving stare, “How did you survive under someone who clearly despised your existence?—”

“Lloyd!” Ransom hissed at his fellow mercenary’s harsh words and kicked his shin beneath the table, but Lloyd continued, undeterred. 

“Surely the Queen wanted you gone, especially when you finally reached adulthood. How did she even manage to keep your existence a secret for that long?” 

“I had already come of age and was hoping that I’d finally be able to inherit the throne,” you confessed, biting your lip from how naive you had been in retrospect. Your 21st birthday wasn’t even grandly celebrated as it traditionally should have been, but then again, you were never able to make your debut into high society between 11 and 15 years of age. You shouldn’t have set your expectations so high. “But it was foolish of me to think in such a way.” They wait for you to continue with bated breath, not wanting to stress you out even more when it looks like you would collapse from just having to relive what you had to go through. “The staff took care of me after my father died, ensuring that I was well educated and kept up with noble practices despite the Queen standing strongly against my education and development as a royal. She made sure that I wasn’t treated like a princess by giving me chores around the palace, making me sleep in staff quarters and constantly overlooking my presence despite having many eyes on me, reporting back to her regularly. Slowly, she had turned me into a common maid.” Andy shook his head in disbelief and met eyes with Lloyd, whose expression looked unreadable — even the assassin couldn’t begin to comprehend what he was hearing. 

“The Queen guaranteed my existence was wiped from public knowledge by imprisoning the staff and swearing them to secrecy. She went so far as to develop a new knight order who were loyal to only her and had them replace my father’s original order of knights. Thankfully, not everyone on the staff wanted to be ruled by her, and they rebelled silently by supporting me behind the scenes.” A small smile grew on your lips as you recounted fond memories with the staff while the mercenary group looked on with a tightness in their chests. “I will forever be grateful to those kind-hearted, courageous people, who I’ve grown to see as my own family. They truly only wished the best for me, and yet—” you couldn’t bring yourself to continue and face the reality that you had been forced to abandon the one true family you have grown to know since young. 

“You said you had to escape and build a peaceful life for yourself.” Ari begins, seeing that tears fill up your beautiful eyes and approaches the topic gently so as not to upset you further. “What do you mean by that?”

“My 21st birthday passed without celebrations, and I believed I wouldn’t be acknowledged at all in the months that followed. The world had gotten so dark, and my false hopes had resulted in failing my people; I didn’t know what to do. But it all came to a head when the Queen sent me out with Sir Remfrey, a huntsman of the palace who was loyal to me in secret. He had been tasked with killing me somewhere secret.” The group sucked in a breath. Unbelievable. Jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing and sought Ransom’s hand beneath the table for comfort. Thankfully, the Beta complied without complaint; admittedly, Ransom also needed comfort after knowing the terrible fate that had been orchestrated for you. None of them could believe someone could have such bad intentions for someone as kind and sweet as you. But that was a reality their occupation fulfilled, and the actualisation of it was harrowing. 

“Sir Remfrey took me to the outskirts of the city, under the guise that he would escort me for my first excursion outside the palace in belated celebration of my recent coming of age. He was meant to bring my heart back as evidence of his deeds. Thankfully, rather than follow through on her orders, he set me free with a basket full of essentials collated by the staff — my family. I will forever be grateful to Sir Remfrey and the staff for the second chance they have given me... a chance at a new life, a peaceful one.”

Steve meets your eyes when you look up at the end of your explanation, and his heart clenches painfully. He readily ignores it, however. As the captain, he needs to be the responsible one who weighs out all sides before making a final decision, even if that means being black-hearted, leading up to a settlement. Remaining silent and keeping his thoughts locked, Steve turns to Andy and Ransom with a pointed look; they would know if you were telling the truth or not. Andy nods solemnly. Ransom follows with a stiff nod of his own. 

So this was the truth.

“And in your escape from the palace, you happened upon our cottage,” Steve asks, meeting your eyes once more to watch as you nod affirmatively. 

“I really didn’t mean to stay as long as I did but—“ you give a bashful look and stare down at your lap once more, thinking it best not to explain further. 

“No need...” Steve raises his palm and offers a soft look, happy to finally be able to comfortably lower his guard again. At that moment, he realised how wrong it felt to be guarded around you. “We’re partly to blame.”

“It was great coming home to a warm dinner each night,” Jake grins widely, eager to dispel the thick tension of your interrogation. “And you’re so nice and kind, we love you!” he blurts without thinking, making his teammates tense up as they wait for your response. 

Ransom’s glare conveys his thoughts at the Beta clearly: You’re so stupid, Jake! You can’t just say that! What if she gets weirded out and leaves us for good?! But Ransom’s glare is cheekily ignored. 

They don’t expect your sweet smile, but it makes their shoulders relax instantly. “I love you all too.” Lloyd looks at you with a frown, fully expecting to be excluded due to his harshness but is surprised when you take a moment to meet his eyes as well, your loving expression unchanging. And as much as Lloyd would hate to admit that he enjoys the image of you looking sweetly at him, he looks away with a huff, his mind conflicted but his heart warm. 

“Thank you for your honesty.” Steve begins, fixing you with a soft stare as he silently solidifies his resolve on a significant decision. Now, it was a question of how he should go about approaching it. “…Now that you’ve been honest with us, it’s only fair that we be honest with you as well.” The implication of his words has all of the mercenaries snapping their heads towards their captain, Lloyd is the most vocal in his protests but everyone else remains silent, eyes wide and mouths agape; silently pleading for some sort of explanation. 

“Captain,” Andy cautiously starts, looking at Steve with somewhat narrowed eyes, “are you sure about this?”

“Of course, I am,” Steve hums. “Trust goes both ways and I believe in her, don’t you?” From across the table, Steve takes a moment to meet eyes with each of the pack. It was a silent, two-way communication that waited for gradual acceptance of his decision for the team; slowly, they gave their consent in a small nod. Lloyd is the most defiant in his narrowed stare and stiffened stance but he doesn’t outright refuse, he only looks away grumbling. He’s seen that everyone but him has already come to match Steve’s resolve, all he can do now is trust in his pack, even if every cell in his body is stubbornly screaming to go against them. It would be for their own good that Lloyd protest but would it really, when they feel so strongly towards you? 

“Wh…what is it?” you ask in a soft voice that barely rises above a whisper.

“We’re more than we appear.” Steve’s statement comes off a little cryptic and you don’t quite know how to comprehend it. 

“We aren’t don’t work on fraud cases.” Jake provides, referring to your earlier conversation when discussing replicas of magical artefacts. 

“So, what do you do?”

“We’re private hires.” Lloyd snaps firmly, looking at you with daring eyes. He dares you to challenge his words, dares you to look shocked, dares you cower in fear. Lloyd isn’t the type to feel ashamed of his and the pack’s occupation; it’s what’s kept them alive, after all, it’s also the reason why they’ve bonded so closely. No, he will never be ashamed of the truth, and he isn’t about to let the pang of anxiety in his chest consume him entirely. “Mercenaries. We’ve been hired to do many bad things in the past, Princess. And we have a lot of blood on our hands because of it.” Ari doesn’t know why Lloyd is acting so hostile but doesn’t step in, no one does. They all seem to silently agree that giving you the harsh reality of their true background would be for the best — there’s no use sugarcoating things. “Are you sure you still wanna stick around? We’re dangerous, cold-hearted mercs, this cottage is no place for a Princess.”

The expression you hold is unreadable. It’s as if you don’t know what to say, and while you contemplate what you should say, time slows to a painful pace for the tea. Being transparent with you means many things to them and different things to each person. Unanimously (even Lloyd), however, they cherish your presence; it gives them a break from their harsh way of life because you make them feel like they deserve more than what the world has so harshly given them. You’re their reprieve, a safety and peace they have no hope of finding elsewhere. You’re the final missing piece of their incomplete pack — their omega. It would be hard to let you go if that’s what you choose, but this is why Steve chose to be transparent with you and why they agreed. It’s to give you a fair choice and a rightful say. This is how it should be, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t secretly hoping you make one decision over the other. Holding their breaths, their hands clench into fists as they await your answer. Even Curtis has slipped his hand out of your hold so that his touch can’t influence your final decision. 

“But… did you not give me a safe place to live while I was seeking refuge?” you ask, and they don’t quite know if it’s a rhetorical question or not. Regardless, all of them are too stunned to even answer you. What were you getting at? “Did you not treat me kindly during my stay? Did you not share your food with me? Did you not give me a warm place to sleep?” they watch as your beautiful face slowly brightens with a smile. “I’m afraid I can only judge you on what I’ve been able to see thus far. Regardless of the truth in your occupation, that is not your defining factor, and I can see that you don’t let it be the defining factor, either. Of course, I’d love to stay for longer… as long as you’re willing to have me, that is.” You look adorably bashful by the end, and most can’t believe their ears or eyes at the sight. You truly couldn't care less about their background. 

Jake laughs, bright and loud, cutting through the tension, making it evaporate with hardly any effort. “Of course we want you to stay! You can stay as long as you need and want!” the tech genius turns to their captain with shining eyes and a wide grin, “Isn’t that right, Cap?”

Chuckling lowly to himself, Steve nods, eyes glowing with affection as he looks at Jake before trailing his eyes to you. What a relief this all is — things went better than expected; Steve fully believed you would take the chance to pack your things and leave. “That’s right, Jake.” Steve sees you flash him a grateful smile and his chest warms with affection. 

“Great!” Ari laughs, the weight on his shoulders and chest immediately lifting. It looks like you were here to stay. He couldn’t have asked for a better outcome. “This is the best news we’ve had all day!” Ari gets up from his seat and makes his way over to stand behind your chair. With a self-satisfied grin, he leans down to meet your eyes as his voice drops into a low whisper. “Greedy as we are, I’m glad we get to have you all to ourselves for longer, sweet angel—” As Ari turns his head to speak directly into your ear, you turn to give him your full attention and unintentionally meet his lips with your own. 

Gasps echo about the room as everyone freezes in place, unable to comprehend what’s happened. They’re all waiting for someone to react some way and break them all out of their shock. Unable to resist, Ari is the first to respond and leans into the kiss further, his hand coming up to hold your chin in place as his eyes close slowly, urging you to do the same and get lost in the kiss with him. You don’t know what comes over you, but it’s far too easy to reciprocate — it just feels right, somehow. Ari feels it, too, and smirks into the kiss from the amount of glee he feels in that moment. He was right. You’re destined to be theirs. And, them, yours. You complete their pack; you’re their missing piece, their omega! Their luna!   

“Ari! You can’t do that!” Andy shouts, rising from his seat but it’s clear that Ari isn’t eager to let you go anytime soon, rather, he angles his head to deepen the kiss further and hums with deep satisfaction when you wrap your arms around his neck. It seems you haven’t registered the chaos that has broken out around you.

“Unfair!” Ransom huffs, “How come you get to kiss her first?“ 

“This isn’t about who goes first or not, Ransom!” 

“Let her go,” Curtis growls lowly but is ignored and intensifies his glare at Ari’s broad figure. Oh, if a look could kill a man… 

“This is not how things are supposed to go, Ari!” Steve protests through clenched teeth. He had been fully on board with potentially making you a part of their pack, finally completing their circle with a worthy Omega. However, with the discovery of you being the princess, Steve had hoped to discuss this with Ari— a vocal supporter of the decision —a little longer before taking any action. 

“Not to the Princess, Ari! This has to be treason!” Jake’s whining cry reaches your ears and you finally pull away, panting slightly. You were already quite flustered from the sudden intimate act but the image of Ari licking his lips and giving a pleased grumble at your lingering taste on his lips makes your chest want to explode. Now that your lips are no longer attached to Ari’s you can fully comprehend the havoc of the room and gasp silently at the amount of attention fixed on you. 

“I-I think I better get started on dinner,” you smile at everyone shyly before hurrying to the kitchen, but not before Ari catches your hand and brings your knuckles to his lips. 

“Thank you for letting me be the first to kiss you properly, darlin’.” He whispers with such affection against your skin that you can barely speak up in response. The only thing you had the strength to muster was a hurried nod before pulling away to distract yourself with dinner preparations. Glimpsing the clock face on the wall, you sigh in relief — just in time, not too late but not too early. 

Ari was subsequently scolded and glared at by many of his pack mates, but he doesn’t care. It was all worthwhile. Honestly, he didn’t expect to steal your first kiss with them in such a way, but it still went better than he could ever imagine — perhaps the surprise element was a contributing factor. Nevertheless, Ari could, at least, put up with this much, especially when still on a high from the taste of your sweet lips. He’s never tasted a sweeter candy in his life and, as much as he loves his pack mates, he already knows it’ll be hard to share you. 

“You’re a pig, Ari!” Ransom snaps at him, huffing and sulking away to a corner with Jake when Ari does nothing but look smug in return — he’s unfazed with taunting eyes that say, ‘I know you’re just jealous, Ran~’. Away from Ari and the other alphas, the two Betas get lost in their respective books, both pouty and sharing in the feeling of unfairness. They couldn’t even blame you for it because everyone could tell that it was an accident. 

Lloyd is nowhere to be found, but by the shout that comes from their back garden area, followed closely by the familiar sound of an axe hitting a tree, Ari can hazard a guess as to what may be happening. “I will join him,” Curtis announces in his usual low voice, deep and mellow but the irritation behind his words are tangible. It should make Ari feel, somewhat, guilty since Curtis is usually the stoic type but he just couldn’t. No, Ari could never feel guilty when it comes to you.

In the far corner, Steve and Andy were discussing something heatedly. There’s a tug in Ari’s chest that pulls him forward and urges him to join the discussion. “You’ve put us in a difficult position, Ari,” Steve sighs as Ari smoothly slots himself in between the two. 

“Oh yeah?” Steve and Andy narrow their eyes at Ari’s laidback attitude and smug grin. 

“And you’re happy about that, aren’t you?” Andy sighs, eyeing you in his peripheral as you potter about their kitchen.

“I have no regrets. But you can’t blame me, it was an accident. And weren’t you accepting of her becoming our Omega?”

“Yes, but that changed when we found out she’s the princess,” Steve hisses under his breath, his mind racing with potential future scenarios. 

“This can go one of two ways, either she continues running away from the throne—” Andy starts, aided by Steve with helpful remarks along the way. 

“—which she seems reluctant to if given the option to return to rule rightfully,”

Andy nods at Steve who leans against the living room wall with his arms crossed, brows furrowed in thought. “Or she returns to the throne after banishing the Queen.”

“If it’s the former, we can make her our omega but if it’s the latter, she cannot.” 

“Don’t most monarchs rule better when in an established pack?” Ari argues, receiving a pointed look from the two. 

“Yes, but it’s not appropriate when we’re mercenaries, and she’s the Princess and future Queen. She deserves to be surrounded by a decent council of high-standing nobles as bachelors, to be supported by a pack who are familiar with that type of word. We aren’t that, Ari.” The emphasis in Steve’s words cuts through Ari’s chest. Maybe he was being too optimistic, but he couldn’t let the feeling go. It feels too right to have you in their lives, it feels too right to have you in his arms, it feels too right to be kissing you. He just needs to make them see it too.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

The evening ended with full stomachs and a warm atmosphere, while the next morning began with grumbling stomachs and a quiet peace. It appears as though everyone has decided to carry on as normal. The group have unanimously agreed that it’s a blessing to have you in their lives like this despite knowing their background and occupation. They weren’t going to spoil the one good thing in their lives for something as little as their own insecurities. It’s a good thing you were willing to go along with them on it too, oblivious to the silent turmoil in your eyes. 

As much as you were happy to extend your stay with the group, you had been tossing and turning the whole night. When left in the quiet alone with your thoughts, your mind couldn’t help but return to the topic of the 'Mirror of Aleth’ replicas. It didn’t sit well with you that they were being created in the first place, and it was a fight with yourself to bring the topic up or not. Yes, you can only speculate on the intentions, but there’s never a good, moral reason for their creation no matter how speculative your conclusions. The issue needs to be addressed with the same amount of importance as the truth of your identity — this underground scheme poses a great risk to your kingdom and its people.

With a deep breath, you interrupt breakfast with a soft call for their attention. Despite how gentle your voice comes, all movement stops, and the attention turns to you without question. It’s a similar respect they demonstrate towards Steve, their captain. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have something important to say.” They nod firmly as Steve silently urges you on with an encouraging look, “I understand that it’s not my place, but I have a horrible feeling about the replicas Jake mentioned yesterday. Would you mind telling me more about them? Maybe I can offer some assistance…” your voice remains soft and, somewhat, shy but not hesitant. There’s a firmness in your words as you break the peaceful silence at the breakfast table. The mercenary pack share a look but there aren’t any outright protests to your question, not even from Lloyd. It appears as though he and Curtis had quite the productive talk the evening before, bonding as they threw axes at trees together. Even going so far as to cut more firewood for the fireplace together. 

“We were hired by the King of Okisha to retrieve the stolen magical artefact, the mirror of Aleth.” Andy provides after sipping his morning coffee. 

Your eyes widen in horror. “It was stolen?”

“That’s right.” Lloyd cuts in surprisingly, his focus remaining on the plate of breakfast before him. “And, judging by the high security surrounding their royal vaults, it was done by a skilled individual.”

“Do you have any suspects?” You ask, tone serious and eyes hardened by the gravity of the situation. It was an appearance the mercenaries weren’t used to seeing on you but it was a welcome change. They can discern your education and royal class through that look alone and it was comforting, in a sense. Andy’s sure that you’d be proud to know such a trait has become a permanent mark on you despite the struggles of oppression you’ve faced in your own palace. 

“Our investigation so far points us to the current Queen of your kingdom, your stepmother,” Steve announces but you’re not shocked. Rather, you only appear to grow more worried, the food on your plate remaining mostly untouched. 

“And those replicas… are they related to her too?” 

“We don’t know but they might as well be,” Ari answers this time as Jake hums in additional confirmation. 

“If it’s not too much to ask—” the entire pack give you their full attention, even Jake stops chewing on his food. “Please may you destroy all the replicas you’ve found? If my stepmother is truly a part of this, I don’t think it would bode well for her to get her hands on a successfully made replica.”

“What are your suspicions?” Steve asks, curious as to how deeply you think the Queen’s association will go. 

“If she is involved, it must mean she was the thief. That’s a guarantee, knowing her.” Your eyes wonder as you contemplate deeper, your mind flashing with memories of the Queen’s somewhat unusual behaviour leading up to your attempted assassination and eventual escape. “I remember her beginning to spend hours in a singular room at the palace leading up to my escape with Sir Remfrey. Yes, she likes to be on her own and rule fully independent of the royal council, she doesn’t even have a pack to rely on — she’s very self-sufficient. And while many of the staff knew her to spend hours alone, across various rooms, this particular room was located in the depths of the palace, somewhere isolated and barely touched by the staff. It was ominous but no one dared to question her, she’s the Queen after all.”

“What do you think she wants from the mirror? What truth does she seek?” 

You give a weak shrug of your shoulders, your brows furrowing further, “I don’t know… but she must have realised that she can’t make the true mirror work. Though I’m not sure she’s fully informed on the reasons why. Abraham was always reluctant to impart his knowledge on ancient, magical artefacts because he had always sensed that the Queen was, somewhat, unwell.”

“Unwell?” 

“Abraham didn’t elaborate on it further, but I suspect it concerns her psyche. He was only adamant about withholding as much information from her as possible, that was what was important to him as the royal mage. Thankfully, he’s been able to get away with it using the excuse that, although she has lived past my father, she will forever be the Queen Consort only, meaning that she remains lesser than a Queen and will forever be without full constitutional power. That would also include knowledge of things that would be otherwise confidential. Only I am allowed those privileges as the rightful, living heir.”  

“And these replicas?” Jake asks, searching your eyes for some kind of answer. If they can pinpoint a firm motive, it’ll kick their asses into better gear for tackling the assignment swiftly. They’re already feeling the drive from the precious intel you’ve provided them atop the current conversation. The sooner they complete the mission, the sooner they get to their retirement. 

“Replicas can’t function as well as the original. I don’t think she’d settle for a half-truth or a truth that’s told in a roundabout way. I think that, as long as she can get one, coherent truth out of a replica, she’ll be satisfied.” You conclude and the boys have to hand it to you, your theory makes sense. If she doesn’t know the truth about how the Mirror of Aletha works and that it only answers to true descendants like you had told Jake the day previous, she must be pretty desperate to go searching for that truth elsewhere, squandering the royal funds as she does so. 

“You want us to destroy those replicas then?” Steve deduces, his eyes becoming firm with resolve when you nod your head. 

“Please…”

“Sounds easy enough,” Lloyd comments as Curtis hums in agreement beside him. 

With one firm nod, Curtis’s eyes also become focused on the decision. “We will do it today.” The pack’s designated assassin and guard turn to each other and share a similar look. It appears a commodore has been reached between them. 

“Thank you.” You speak with such sincerity and with the sweetest smile on your face that Lloyd has to look away. He couldn’t bear the sight of you. And he only had himself to blame for that. He had been too impulsive and aggressive — the typical, doltish alpha who acts before he thinks. Many believed that the pheromone suppressant jewellery current laws required the public wear, helped individuals conquer their secondary gender’s instincts but Lloyd was not one of them. He has to accept that truth. His talk with Curtis the previous evening was a much-needed one. That was the most he’d ever heard Curtis talk, but he appreciated it — not that he’d openly admit the fact, but that’s why Curtis was the perfect one to have such a dialogue with. Lloyd didn’t need to say anything because he could tell that Curtis knew what he wanted to say. The stoic giant of a guard was a man of few words himself, so he understood the fundamentals of body language and often expressed more with his own body than with his words. 

‘Thanks,’ was Lloyd’s silent message that night. 

‘Any time,’ was what Lloyd could comprehend from Curtis’ stoic but kind stare. 

“Even if the replicas are incomplete or said to not work, destroy them all.” 

“Roger that!” Jake grins, doing a small salute as Steve huffs a light chuckle to himself. Many others about the table also give a short laugh, grinning wider when they see the curious tilt of your head to one side. You would have laughed too if you knew the teasing jab Jake had made at Steve’s last name. 

“They can do all of that while I stay behind with you, Angel~” Ari smirks and winks at you from across the table as glares swiftly point at him.

“What do you mean, Ari?” Andy asks with furrowed brows. Admittedly, the group’s appointed negotiator was mainly protesting because of what had happened the night before and had become overly cautious (and jealous) about how close Ari was getting to you. “We need you out there to help locate the replicas.”

With a simple shrug, Ari leisurely leans back into his chair and smirks, “Jake knows everything I know, I even made sure to write it all down for him. Besides, don’t you think our princess needs to be protected while you’re all away? Especially after what the Queen had planned to do with her?” That was a reasoning Andy (and everyone else) couldn’t argue with and he could do nothing but sigh in defeat. 

“Gear up; it’s time to leave.” Was Steve’s only instruction as he moved away from the table and prepared for the day ahead, quickly followed by the rest of the team. 

As was routine, the group prepares to leave as soon as breakfast is finished. Despite the civil atmosphere, however, Steve didn’t want to get too hopeful as he finished lacing up his boots by the door. He was the first ready to leave as always and yet, you weren’t by the door for the usual farewell. It was too optimistic a thought to expect things to continue as they were after the frightening confrontation he had put you through the day before. Steve was, at least, grateful that you were willing to pack them lunches again, though he doubts they’ll still be receiving your sweet notes. Looking at the faces of his team, it appears as though they were coming to the same realisation and acceptance as him. Only Ari appeared unfazed as he stood behind. 

The confrontation was a much-needed one but Steve admits he could have handled it much better…

“Right, we’re off,” Steve announces before eying Ari directly, “Keep her safe.” Turning, Steve reaches for the door with his lunch in hand, determined to follow through on your request. It would be the beginning of his apology. Once he’s done that, he would be able to face you sincerely with a proper apology — his behaviour the day before was appalling; even though that was how he felt like he had to act, there was a better way. Determined, Steve already configured a solid plan for how he wanted the team to go about dealing with today’s assignment, and his shoulders straightened from the resolve behind it. 

“Wait! Steve!” Frozen in place, Steve can’t bring himself to turn and meet you. What were you calling him for? He waits stiffly by the door with a racing heart as you hop up beside him. 

“What about our usual goodbye?” you ask with pouty lips. “You can’t leave without it, none of you can.” A sudden wave of timidity comes over you at Steve’s obvious hesitation and lack of response. “A-as long as that’s okay with you, that is… it’s quite the routine now so…" 

Steve’s body takes over as he turns his full body to face you despite his slow-to-comprehend brain. “No no, you’re right. It’s routine now.” he gives you a soft look and leans down, “It feels wrong to leave without our usual goodbye.” Smiling once again, you cup Steve’s jaw and hold him in place as you press a lingering kiss against his cheek. Although it was nice to feel you this close for a little longer than usual, Steve couldn’t help but be suspicious of the oddity in your kiss ‘farewell’. Usually, it was a quick peck and he was swiftly on his way after. But he doesn’t complain. Just as you ease up, he finally leans away but is caught off-guard, yet again, when you suddenly wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close enough to place your lips beside his ear. 

“I forgive you…” You whisper before pulling away to look at the mercenary captain with a gentle smile. Shocked, Steve didn’t know what to do. For once, the captain was stunned into silence, his entire world coming to a stop at the sight of your beautiful smile and sweetness. You didn’t even let him say ‘I’m sorry’. But you must have been able to sense it coming from a mile away. Steve’s awe turns into a smile of gratitude, and kissing your temple before he leaves. The same way you allowed your lips to linger on his cheek, he allowed his to linger on your temple. As he steps through the door, the warmth of his lips remains imprinted on your skin.

“Take care, Steve,”

“You as well, Princess,”

Up next was Andy, whose earlier shock melted into a warm smile when he realised you weren’t going to hold yesterday’s hostile confrontation against them. As a man of habit, he goes over his usual farewell routine with you. He takes your hand and brings it to his lips before leaning down to savour the kiss you deliver to his cheek. At the last second, he turns his head and buries his nose into the intimate space just below your ear and whispers a soft but sincere ‘thank you’ into your hair before he follows Steve outside the cottage with an easy smile on his lips.  

“Have a great day, Andy,” you call as he steps out the door, shooting you a proud grin from over his shoulder. 

“And you, sweetheart,”

“I’m next!” Jake cheers as he surprises you with a hug from behind. Turning in his arms, you smile and prompt him to also lean down so you can kiss his cheek. Happily, Jake obliges but doesn’t untangle his arms from around you just yet. He quite likes the feel of you tucked up against his chest, getting on your tip toes to press a kiss onto his cheek. It makes him smile like a goof but gets pouty when you have to pull away finally. With a whine, he nuzzles the crown of your head and tries to monopolise the short moment with you for as long as possible. He would have stayed there the whole day if he wasn’t inevitably dragged away by Andy, who was prompted by Ransom’s impatient grumbling. 

As soon as Jake is gone, Ransom steps up and pulls you close by the waist, where he kisses your forehead first before kissing both of your cheeks as you giggle in his arms. The twinkling sound of your laughter makes him smile warmly and aims a kiss for your lips but pouts when you turn your head, mistaking it as your turn to finally kiss him on the cheek too. 

“Get home safe, Ran. Take care,” Ransom doesn’t stay pouty for long, however, not when you’re so sweet to him. 

‘I’ll get home safe as long as you’re there to greet me at the door,’ Ransom is tempted to say but leaves with a silent smile and a similar greeting instead. “You take care too, sweets. Make sure to keep Ari in check, will you?” Ransom tuts, directing a pointed glare at the bearded man in question, who simply smirks at him. 

“Will do, Ran!” at least the Machiavellian knows you’ll put in the effort and can leave with a level heartbeat. 

Curtis approaches you next. Like the previous day, he hugs and picks you up around the waist so that you’re looking down at him and have to stabilise yourself with your hands on his shoulders. You search each other’s eyes for a moment before you finally lean down to kiss his cheek, and he takes a moment to affectionately nuzzle your neck. Ever since the day he escorted you into town and had to be calmed by your scent, he’s grown quite an addiction to your fragrance — he will take every opportunity to bring you closer and take in your aroma as intimately as possible. Never has he felt so calm and at peace than when he’s breathing you in. 

“Have a good day Curt, please get home safe,” you whisper, smiling sweetly as he finally lowers you down. 

“Yes, ma’am,” the stoic guard answers with a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

The last one to leave was Lloyd, who holds your packed lunch for him in his large, calloused and shaking hands. He’s no longer entitled to a sweet farewell by the door, he knows that. So he avoids your gaze and shakes his head— almost apologetically —as he gently brushes past you. Unlike your usual routine, he hadn’t taken the time to lean down or hurry you for his kiss farewell. It makes you stutter in place, not knowing what to do or make of his dismissive behaviour. Lloyd, however, cannot make it past the door because of Curtis. As the designated guard, Curtis’ stance is firm and wide and Lloyd knows that there’s no way he’s getting past him without Curtis moving aside voluntarily. 

“What are you doing, Curt?” Lloyd asks, his voice sounding more tired than irate, “Step aside, we’re wasting precious daylight here — we’ve got work to do in the city!” Curtis doesn’t flinch at the rise of his pack mate’s volume and simply gestures with his eyes to whatever’s past the assassin’s tense shoulders. Lloyd swiftly turns and frowns. There you are with a small frown and downcast eyes. Never before has Lloyd or any of the group seen you look so downhearted and the aching grip of guilt around Lloyd’s heart only tightens at the sight. He knows what needs to be done, but it’s not deserved. If he leans down and you don’t kiss him, that’ll prove to Curtis that he’s only wasting everyone’s time by insisting on this. 

Lloyd doesn’t let it show how happy it makes him when your expression brightens when he returns to you. He doesn’t let his happiness show when you call his name lovingly as he leans down. He doesn’t allow himself to smile when you don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his neck and press a kiss against his cheek so hard that you're practically burying your face against his own. For once, he doesn’t sigh or protest or show any sign of disapproval. But this only makes you smile brighter once you pull away and his heart does a stupid flip in his chest over it. 

“I forgive you, Lloyd,” you whisper loud enough for only him to hear, just like you did with Steve earlier. Lloyd doesn’t know what to do, freezing up as he stands before you, dumbfounded. “Be safe, have a nice day,” 

“…yeah…” Lloyd replies simply, an unfamiliar expression drawing itself onto his face as he looks at your much smaller frame. His once cold eyes shine with a warm fondness as his lips stretch into a handsome smile for your eyes only, “We’ll be back soon, princess…”

navi. | series masterlist

eight. the lumbering repairman →

a/n : i'm so sorry this took such a long time, my lovelies but i hope you still enjoyed the read and hopefully the longer chapter can make up for the longer wait time haha! this was supposed to be the Ari-centric chapter but it was getting too long and i want to give Ari a chapter all to himself. nevertheless, a lot has happened in this chapter so feel free to tell me your thoughts. hopefully, the next chapter won't take me too long to write and post for you but we'll have to see how life treats me (⸝⸝⸝╸﹏╺⸝⸝⸝)

taglist : @imyourbratzdoll @lovinglimerence @saturdayrj @baw1066 @whereismymindnow @urmomw4ntsme @oneandonlybbygrl @graciehams

[oneandonlybbygrl]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe thot about: CE!babe + “Er is it supposed to make that noise?” 🤣

Not Fast, Possibly Furious

Pairing: Boyfriend! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: All you want to do is treat your boyfriend to a nice trip, but things aren’t going your way. Ransom thinks he knows just what to do to clear your mind.

Word count: 1,564

Content/warnings: MINORS DNI - 18+ ONLY, smut, swears, kissing, a little bit of an argument and frustrated behavior, probably poor handling of emotions but let’s be real a lot of us would do the same thing, brief depictions of unprotected p in v sex, semi-public car sex, surprisingly soft Ranny, independent reader, me not knowing anything about cars

A/N: It’s been a long time coming! Thank you so much for this prompt, Siri! Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are so appreciated. Thank you for reading!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

At least the weather was nice. That’s what you had to keep reminding yourself, and Ransom, from where you were pulled off on the side of the road, scrambling under the hood of your old SUV.

After several attempts of pleading with your puppy dog eyes, you had finally convinced your boyfriend to let you surprise him with a weekend getaway to a place unknown. And boy, was that quite the difficult feat. Especially since he kept pushing back, saying he’d drive, even though you knew that was his sly attempt to figure out the destination. Ransom could never stand being left out of the loop, even when it was for something planned specifically with his pleasure in mind. The way he was going about it now was fun and playful at first, but then the smoke billowing from the engine of your car quickly put an end to that mood.

As you pulled over, you expected to see Ransom’s annoyed, told-you-so face, but instead, his brows were knitted together, mostly with concern. Before he could even open his mouth to suggest a solution, you were already out of the vehicle and investigating the issue.

At this point you’d lost track of how long you’d been working and finally believed you figured out what was wrong. At least you hoped so. A couple more failed attempts and you were about ready to have a conniption.

You peered out from behind the hood and looked at Ransom where he now sat in the driver’s seat.

“Okay, give it a go.”

As Ransom turned the key in the ignition, your hands flew to your hears. Loud chugs and sputtering were followed by a high-pitched screech of something, and then nothing. The engine reached a halt with a hiss.

In frustration, you groaned and looked up at the sky and then over at your boyfriend whose emotions were evidently feeding off of yours. Even through all of this, though, Ransom was trying so hard to make sure he kept his sass in check as to not offend you. He really appreciated the gesture of what you were trying to do this weekend and didn’t want to appear ungrateful or as if he didn’t believe in your capabilities, but before he could even think, the words just slipped out.

“Er, is it supposed to make that noise?”

What a mistake. All he heard was a clank of metal as you threw down a socket wrench onto the asphalt and stomped toward the grassy treeline just off the side of the road. When he got out of the driver’s seat and came around the hood to look at you, your hands were on your head, eyes squeezed shut in frustration, with the faintest glimmer, from what he could only assume were tears, running down your cheeks. Your wet lashes fluttered open and Ransom swore that look could kill.

“Of course it’s fucking not, Hugh!”

The last thing on Ransom’s mind right now was the mud underneath his loafers as he rushed towards you in an attempt to placate and plead for a tow truck.

“Sweetheart, I… didn’t mean it like that. I just mean that we’ve been at this for the better part of an hour and I don’t see your car going anywhere. Physically or repair-wise.”

His hands gently held your arms.

“Let me call a tow truck. I went to school with a kid whose family owned a company. We’ll get a good deal if you insist on paying for it.”

You scowled at him and swatted his hands away.

“I’m independent, Drysdale, not stupid. And I have insurance, anyway. But you touch that phone and you’re a dead man.”

You began storming back to the car.

“But if you just let me-“

Ransom attempted to reach for your hand but you shook it off, whipped around, and pointed a cautionary finger at him.

“Listen to me. This car, I paid for by myself. School, I got into by myself. And this trip, is something I planned on my own. So you saying for me to hand the problems, ones not unlike what I’ve faced my entire life, to somebody else, is not the way I operate. I never had that luxury and I don’t need it. You’re acting like I don’t have this under control and that you don’t believe in me. And that’s the last thing I need from my boyfriend when I’m doing my best.”

Ransom bit the inside of his lower lip and thought for a second, carefully choosing the right words to proceed. If you were anyone else, he would’ve thrown it right back just as hard. He knows you’ve worked for everything you have and he knows he had it easy his whole life. He had to go about this the right way.

“Sweetheart.”

His voice was low, genuine.

“I’m offering to make it easier on you. Not because I don’t believe in your capabilities, it’s just that I want to make sure a moment together for us isn’t wasted. Especially not with you cursing out an old engine when instead, we can be pressed close in bed. Okay?”

Before you could even protest, he had you wrapped up tight against him in his arms. He held you firmly, one hand bracing your head, the other rubbing up and down on your back. You could feel your shoulders relaxing just barely before he tilted your heads back and his eyes searched yours.

“So how about this: you get one more try to fix this, and if that doesn’t work, then I’ll call AAA, have them give us a tow back to my place, and we’ll figure out essentials and take the Beamer. Deal?”

You sighed in his hold, pressing your forehead against his for a second as you thought. When you tilted your head back up, Ransom took inventory of your face, the look of contemplation, still with a hint of frustration running through it. He pressed a warm, tender kiss to your lips that he realized was far too chaste for your liking when you chased his lips and whined as he pulled away.

A gentle thumb brushed your cheek while a smirk slowly took over his face. His eyes darkened, and he smiled with mischief that you knew all too well, but your brain was quickly growing fuzzy, dazed.

“Ah, is that what you need? A little something to work out this pent-up frustration?”

You panted lightly through parted lips and nodded, looking urgently into his eyes as you let out the breathiest affirmation to his question. He nodded in acknowledgment.

“I should’ve recognized it sooner. Get in the back seat.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, nails running up the back of his scalp until you reached the longer patch of the quiff on the top of Ransom’s head. You gripped firmly and yanked him upwards, met with him face-to-face after pulling him out from where the condensation was gathering against your neck.

His pupils were blown, lips parted in a groan that quickly grew into that smarmy smirk. His one hand continued its work between your bodies, the other bracing him against the seat to hold him above you. You could feel his thrusts growing sloppy, yet holding no less power. He was pushing himself to give you what you needed and it was paying off. He could tell by the way your knees squeezed his sides, making his smile grow even more. He could feel the way you gripped him tighter, your whole body pulling his into it.

“You close?”

All you could do was nod, words eluding you as you used your hold on him to shove his lips to yours in a fervent kiss. Like that display of affection was the final nudge, you tipped over the edge, orgasm ripping through your body with a wave of warmth, your body convulsing as Ransom pushed for a final few thrusts and came with you. The lip lock was broken with the groans of you both coming down from the high, but small pecks kept you close as you pet your fingers over the back of his hair.

You smiled up at Ransom, having almost forgotten your worries in the pleasure he was able to give you. But instead of being in a post orgasmic haze, it was like the storm of anger that had previously clouded your judgement had cleared and your gaze shot wide.

In concern, your boyfriend looked between your eyes, worry etching into his features as he brushed strands of sweaty hair out of your face.

“What? What is it, sweetheart?”

Snapped out of the moment of intimacy, you pushed his shoulders back, finding your shorts to shimmy them back on your body, still partially underneath your boyfriend’s.

Ransom sat there paralyzed on his knees, watching you pull yourself together just enough to go back outside the car, ignoring his inquisition. His bare ass was still in the breeze as you slipped your shoes on, trying not to lose the light bulb that went off in your head, and opened the car door.

You quickly turned back to him for a peck and paused for a second where he thought you might realize how quickly you just left him there, but all you said was, “It’s gotta be the spark plugs!”

Bonus a/n: heheheheh😈 we love a babe who likes to distract you to clear your mind. And when the rich brat gets a good head on his shoulders.

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @mercurial-chuckles @steviebbboi @thiquefunlover63

[oneandonlybbygrl]

Known To Be His

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x concubine!Reader

Summary: Feyd brings you along to a ball at Caladan Castle, where you hope he intends to show you off and make it known to all Lords and Ladies that he cares for you. Instead, to your disappointment, he keeps you away from others, as if you're nothing more than his toy. But maybe before the night is out, he will change his mind.

Notes/Warnings: Jealousy, possessiveness, smut, so 18+. This is based on a request for Feyd to bring his concubine to a party and be affectionate with her in front of everyone. I changed it a little bit (i hope that's ok) so it would fit more with the following fics in the "His" series.

Words: 3700

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist

He has never taken you out before. During your time on Giedi Prime, you’ve barely even left his room. From the moment he chose you, he has done everything he can to keep you to himself, and he has done it well. 

Not that you mind. He feeds you, he allows you to bathe, he brings you whatever you desire to keep you entertained. But the sudden transition from secret possession rarely adorned or dressed in anything other than a nightgown (if dressed at all) to a woman dripping in jewels and cinched into a leather corset is jarring. And you’re not sure of the occasion. He removed your title of Lady, but the way you look now would make anyone think he has decided to embrace your past and let you shine in your former light. 

You can’t deny you felt a kick of excitement in your stomach at the thought. When he sent his harpies to dress you up from head to toe, a rush of butterflies filled you—not unlike those you sensed when you first saw him, when you first kissed him, when he first slid himself inside of you—and they haven’t left. Goosebumps continue to spread along your body as you imagine him showing you off, willingly displaying you on his arm, because if he wants to present you to the masses, then maybe you mean more to him than he claims you do. 

For some time, you’ve suspected he cares. It’s in the way he touches you and presses his lips to your skin, the pace that he thrusts when you’re encased under his body, the words he lets slip through when his mind is lost to lust rather than logic. Though he has yet to rescind his original statements as to your lesser value to him, you’ve been a patient woman. And perhaps, finally, that patience has paid off. 

—

“A peace ball,” Feyd tells you once you enter Castle Caladan, your arm linked through his. “It’s an attempt on the Areides' part,” he continues. “Unlikely to be successful, but my uncle enjoys playing the game.”

You hear him, but your head is busy twisting and turning at nearly every angle, trying to take in the grandness of the space, the array of vibrant colors you nearly forgot existed after so much time surrounded by the blacks, whites, and grays of the Harkonnen fortress. It’s not only the bright walls and decor, or the way the light streams in rainbow hues through the stained glass windows; it’s the guests, whose suits and gowns reflect stunning shades that your own dark leather dress absorbs like a black hole.

Feyd’s stare pierces the side of your cheek and draws your attention back where he wants it—on him and his pinched browline. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” he grumbles. “Soon, we will be back where we belong.”

Your lips part, your voice ready to tell him that you don’t wish to reacquaint yourself with this environment, you wish to stay with him, even in bleakness, but he’s huffing and dragging you along before you get the chance. 

“Say nothing to anyone,” he orders. “You will stand by my side and that is all.”

You nod just as a tall form enters your peripheral vision. 

“Na-Baron Harkonnen,” one of many Caladanian diplomats calls, forcing Feyd to a halt. A long second passes before he turns, but unlike the diplomat, Feyd does not plaster a false smile on his face. “Many were certain no one from your House would attend. A surprise, to say the least.”

Feyd’s frown remains firm, and you wonder why the Baron sent his nephew on his behalf if said nephew cannot so much as fake his expressions enough to give off an aura of open-mindedness and acceptance. At the same time, it’s Feyd. Less should be expected if one does not wish to be met with disappointment. 

Despite the lack of response, the diplomat’s smile persists. His eyes then flick to you, and something akin to a spark alights within them. 

“And Lady Wallach,” he says, that smile morphing into a mischievous smirk. 

You flinch at the honorific. Feyd’s arm tightens around your wrist. The diplomat reaches for the hand not attached to Feyd’s forearm and brings it to his lips, his eyes locked to yours as his mouth meets your skin. It’s a lingering kiss—too limp, too damp, not at all like Feyd’s—and when he lifts his head, his thumb begins to brush back and forth over your knuckles. 

“As always, a pleasure,” he says. 

Carefully, to avoid offending, you pull your hand away and let it join its twin on Feyd’s arm.

“We’d received word you had joined the Harkonnens,” he continues, “and how unexpectedly delightful to see you in seemingly good health.”

You swallow away the dryness on your tongue, forgetting Feyd’s instruction out of a need to defend the man at your side. “I’m–”

“She is not your concern,” Feyd snips.

Though the truth, the diplomat’s brow raises in suspicion. “Of course,” he says. He gives you another long glance. “Do find me later if you wish to…catch up.” Then he bows his head and departs to find the next of the elite to greet. 

“Demon,” Feyd mutters, mostly to himself. “I should gut him where he stands.” He looks at you. “I told you to keep your mouth shut.”

Your eyes narrow. “Even when directly addressed?” you ask. 

He pauses a moment to consider. Then he says, “Speak little.”

“Fine.” 

And it is fine. You’re not here to mingle, anyway. You’re here to be seen.

—

The night follows a pattern. People gossip. They watch. Women stare from afar; men approach after many minutes of their eyes showering your face and body with appreciation. 

Feyd doesn’t miss a single one of their glances. With each man who spouts flattery or asks for a dance or praises the dress you and Feyd both know is too tight to conceal a single curve of your body, his muscles strain under his clothes, priming to be unleashed. 

He’s cursing himself. You can see it in the hardness of his eyes and the sharpness of his jaw from clenched teeth. This was a mistake, you know he’s thinking. He should not have done this. He should not have stuffed your body into this dress. He should not have allowed his harpies to paint your lips a ruby red so enticing that not even he can stop staring and imagining all the things he could do with your mouth. He should not have brought you…period.

But it’s too late for regrets. You’re here. And the men in this room, despite referring to you as ‘Lady,’ find it appropriate to treat you as if you are anything but. They no longer see you as who you were born; they see you as the plaything of a heartless Harkonnen, a man who does not develop attachments and who might even be up for a trade. Perhaps a House's servant in exchange for the former noble daughter of House Wallach, just for an evening. 

If you’re honest with yourself, you aren’t fully convinced Feyd would not take them up on that offer. As is, he hasn’t displayed the affection you hoped he would in front of the Great Houses; he hasn’t shown you off. If anything, as the night has progressed, he has attempted to keep you in the shadows. And the shadows are a perfect place to make a discreet swap of women. 

You hope your mind is simply running away with you, that you’re being silly, but regardless of acknowledging that possibility, you can’t stop the thoughts. You grow irritated the more he tries to block your interactions with others; your heart cracks a little the more he attempts to conceal you from sight, and it doesn’t take long for you to be fed up with his behavior. So when Paul Atreides approaches you, asking for a dance, you do not hesitate to accept before Feyd can decline, even going out of your way to shove past Feyd’s shoulder as you begin trailing after the Caladanian Lord. 

Not quite out of reach, Feyd grabs your upper arm. “What do you think you’re doing?” he grits out through his teeth.

“Being respectful to our host,” you quietly snap, “for the sake of peace,” and you rip your arm away to join your lover’s most loathed figure on the dancefloor. 

Once buried within the crowd, Paul takes one of your hands in his as the other lands on your waist, and begins to lead you along to the notes of the instrumentals. 

“Are you well?” he asks. 

Well? Yes. 

Satisfied? Content? Not in the slightest.

“Rather controlling, isn’t he?” Paul wastes no time in saying. “Hardly a way to treat a Lady.”

Former Lady, you almost correct him. There’s no point in pretending otherwise. But still, it’s humiliating to admit that to a childhood friend when Feyd gives you no reason to be proud. 

You haven’t seen Paul since the two of you were late teenagers, and your friendship had fallen to the wayside long before that. In between, there was a time when you had developed something more—a step above innocent flirtation—but it faded faster than it began. You still care for him, though, in the way a lot of the House heirs care for one another. There’s a sense of kinship even where kin is not. A camaraderie because of the challenges and pressures you all must face. Feyd was always the only exception.

Paul takes a step forward. You take a step back. He guides you to the left, and you follow.

“I was not aware a Harkonnen would have such strong desires to possess anything other than territory and spice,” he says.

You give a respectful but weak smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. His composed expression drops. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

“Paul, this does not need to be discussed,” you tell him. 

“You are entitled to better.”

“Can we not just dance in silence?”

The Caladanian Lord spins you under his arm, but to your shock, when you're again facing one another, your body is pulled much closer to his. Blue eyes drill into yours. The oxygen between you is stolen by his lungs and you struggle to breathe. 

Once, you didn’t mind the feel of his body against yours. The feel of your clothed forms meeting isn’t a new sensation. But Feyd is watching, and as much as you find the position you’re in to be disrespectful, you fear the retaliation he will inflict in return much more. Though he will not harm your body, he will harm your heart. He will stay away from you, taking his anger out in training or in the arena and finding sleep anywhere but in the bed you share. 

“A Lady should not be forced into a darkness she does not want,” Paul tells you in a soft voice. “A Lady should be able to shine in the light if she so chooses; wouldn’t you like to agree?” 

His steps slow. His hand leaves your waist and his knuckle raises to follow the line of your jaw from ear to chin. “Yes, much too lovely a face to keep hidden,” he whispers. 

Suddenly, you can’t hold his gaze. Your eyes drop to your feet. You take in what little air is available and say, “There is little light in the Harkonnen fortress.”

Fingers lift your chin, forcing you to look at him again. “Are you not allowed outside?” he asks, but the tone in his question suggests he has already decided on what he believes, regardless of your answer.  

You bite your lip. Feyd was right, you should keep your mouth shut. The rumors that have spread throughout this room about your treatment are bad enough. You certainly didn’t need to fuel the fire by insinuating you’re kept in a cage. 

“I’m—I’m happy on Giedi Prime.”

Paul hums. “Then why accept a dance with me, knowing it will only fill him with rage?” 

Your lips part, then close, then part, then close, unable to find a response.

“You forget I know you,” he says. “And I am not blind to your anguish. You wish to be seen. You want him to acknowledge you as more than what he has made you.” 

A pang hits you in the gut. Your throat goes dry. You nearly fumble a step, but Paul keeps you steady.

“I would help you, if you’d like,” he says.

“Help?” you ask. “Why?”

“Because I’ve thought about you over the years. And I feel for your situation. I feel for your House; for your parents who do not attend a peaceful meeting for fear of facing a Harkonnen after what transpired.”

A beat goes by, and then you shake your head, hoping he doesn’t catch the hurt on your face. “It’s their own fault. My parents failed to uphold their end of the deal with Giedi Prime and–”

“And Feyd-Rautha claiming you was the consequence. Yes, the transaction was not a well-kept secret. However, nothing changes the fact that a woman of noble blood deserves better,” he says. He sighs. “I would aid in your escape if you requested it, but as you clearly harbor great affection for him, I suppose you don’t want that.”

Blanching, your eyes widen. You say a silent prayer that no one else has an intuition to match or surpass that of Paul Atreides. This night has been humiliating enough. 

“Relax,” Paul says. “It’s not obvious. As I said, I know you.”

Your shoulders release their tension. You swallow hard and say, “Whether you know me or not, how can you possibly help? He’s not going to tell the Houses that I am more to him than the toy they already suspect me to be.”

“Not tonight, maybe, but the seeds of change can be planted,” he tells you.

“I don’t understand.”

As if about to reveal enemy intel, Paul smirks. “A man knows the thoughts of other men, and he has not enjoyed the attention you’ve been given.” He leans in closer. You brush aside the instinct to pull back. “You’re his, after all, and if the attention continues, eventually, he will want that to be well-known.”

With a half-hearted scoff, you say, “I’m his, and yet he does not claim me nor care enough to stop my dance with another man, even when that man caresses me in front of him.”

“I imagine he was instructed not to start a war,” Paul says. “But he cares…greatly.”

“You can’t possibly know that for certain.”

“He cares,” Paul strongly affirms. He looks to his left, in the direction of Feyd, then back at you. “He cares enough that he will stop this.”

A question is on your tongue. This. This what? But Paul’s lips are no longer hovering near yours; they are closing distance. In your chest, your heart hammers for all the wrong reasons. You freeze as mouths are about to eclipse. 

And then you’re yanked away, flying backward, your spine landing against a wall of muscle that you recognize all too well. 

Paul’s eyes snap open. He peers over your shoulder. There’s a hint of amusement in his irises, and, straightening his spine, he clasps his hands behind his back. “Ah,” he starts. “I thought she was available.”

“You thought wrong,” Feyd all but growls, his height looming over both you and Paul.

“Well, then allow me to extend an apology.”

Feyd doesn’t hear it. Neither do you. Faster than you can blink, you’re being led through the crowd, weaving in and out of bodies, ignoring curious stares as he drags you out the door of the ballroom. He pauses, looks left and right. You struggle to keep up with his steps as he chooses the right and continues down the hall until you come across a door. Opening it, he tugs you into an empty room. 

In the silence of seclusion, he says, “What the fuck was that?”

You briefly shy under the weight of his glare. “I didn’t know he was going to do that.”

“You went with him,” he snaps, gripping your wrist tighter. “To anger me?”

Maybe. “No.” 

“To hurt me!”

Perhaps. “No!” 

Feyd’s breath is heavy, his eyes wild. They scan your entire form as if searching for injury, defilement. He finds nothing. He bites down on his back teeth. His eyes narrow. 

“I don’t believe you,” he says. “You wanted my attention. Now you have it.”

A buzzing bolt of thrill shoots through you as Feyd pushes you into the wall. Reaching lower, he grips the thick material of your skirt in his fists and jerks it up to your waist. The clasp of his pants is undone by deft fingers. The same fingers pull your underwear aside so he can guide himself inside of you. 

Instantly, you sink into the pleasure of possession—the crumbs of what you want from him. 

If only he would fuck you in front of them. If they could see the two of you melding into one, if they could see the way he touches you even when angered, it would all make sense. They would witness the grazing of his fingertips along your skin and the grip he has on your flesh and know it is nothing like the grazing and grip of a man only using a warm body for his release. In that moment, they would understand that you are important, valued, possibly even loved. 

You’re not stupid. A part of you knows his tenderness would likely lead to you being labeled his weakness, but you can’t help wanting it anyway. Weakness or not, he’s strong enough to protect you. And it is a fool who would threaten a Harkonnen.

Feyd’s palm brushes your cheek as his fingers slide into your hair. His gaze casts downward, and, transfixed, mesmerized, he watches himself move in and out of you, listening to the little noises you make each time he fills you. Those fingers in your hair tighten into fists. Then he meets your eyes. You gasp as his nose nudges yours; lose your breath when he captures your mouth in a kiss. 

When you moan, his lips increase their pressure, hungry in the search for the fire he knows you contain inside of you. So you give him that fire. You match his firmness, move with him, open your mouth to let his tongue in. And, like you, he loses it—everything—every last bit of him capable of holding back. He thrusts into you like the beast he is until you’re releasing a cry and he’s groaning and there is nothing left for him to spill. 

In the aftermath, his head falls into the crook where your neck meets your shoulder. The dampness of a few sweat beads on his forehead mixes with the light sheen on your skin.

Riding on the huff of a labored exhale, he says, “Other men will not take you from me.” His arms wrap around your waist, squeezing. “You’re mine.”

With those words, you sigh, defeated. Nothing has changed. Nothing will change. He will forever declare that statement in the heated space between you, but never repeat it for the ears of others. 

“I know,” you say, placing your hand gently on the back of his head, keeping him against you. “I know.”

Your nails dig into his clothed shoulder as you try to control the constriction of your chest. Air in, air out, air in. It’s a fight, but a fight worth pushing through if it means Feyd won’t catch on to how his choices are affecting you. It’s all you can do to wait out the moment until his body has calmed. Then you will fix your skirt, he will secure his pants, and you will return to the ball where people will suspect what he did with you after he’d dragged you out of the room. More whispers. Probably some chuckles at how secretive he keeps you while they dance and kiss their spouses and concubines without hesitation. 

But then he says, “They will all know as well.”

And you stop. Everything stops. Your lungs stop taking in oxygen, your veins stop rushing with blood, you think you’ve stopped living. That must be the case; your dying mind playing its tricks. Yet, in your chest, your heart continues to thump with life—Hard, Vigorous, Real.

He said it. You heard it. His voice was too clear in a room too quiet, and you suddenly can’t feel the shell of your body. But you know you’re trembling. Numb, and yet overwhelmed with too many sensations. Relief. Disbelief. Only when his lips begin to press to your accessible skin do your senses return to you, mercifully permitting you to soak up the feel of him.

“Those who act otherwise will meet my blade,” he continues, forcing a whimper to get caught in your throat. 

Languid kisses make their way up your neck. Your eyelids flutter closed when he reaches that spot just under your ear. You’re waiting for him to say it was a joke and ‘never mind,’ or that it was a lapse in judgment and you must forget it. But he doesn’t utter another word, as if what he said was all he needed to say, as if he wants you to understand the finality of that promise and trust that he will do what he must to make sure everyone is well aware of the regulations now put in place. 

A Lady should not be forced into a darkness she does not want; that’s what Paul Atreides said. A Lady should be able to shine in the light. 

For a second, you allow your mind to drift and dream. You enter into the possibility of your future. Yes, there is little light within the fortress, but perhaps one day Feyd might be willing to harness every bit of brightness he can—every flicker that manages to sneak through a window, every glimmer that catches on the metal tip of his blade, every beam of warmth that heats the sand in the arena—and give it all to you.

[oneandonlybbygrl]

An Heir: Part 3

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: You and Feyd intend to be together forever--marry, have children, lead Giedi Prime side by side--but your plans are disrupted when the Reverend Mother of the Bene Gesserit reveals Lady Fenring is pregnant and, to Feyd's utter shock, the baby is his.

Notes/Warnings: Based on a request from @tgmreader. Pregnancy.

Words: 3300

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2

When you agreed to be kept on Giedi Prime, you had a plan. You knew what to tell your parents: that you were ill and wished to return home before the House meetings concluded. Three more days of meetings were to take place on Giedi Prime, and once they finished, it would be two more days of travel back to your planet before your parents would discover you were not home. That seemed enough time for Feyd to remove Lady Margot and bring you out of the shadows. But when he went to have her arrested, she was gone. Vanished, as if she had never set foot in the fortress.

Feyd only became more determined to keep you well-hidden. The Baron had not yet been informed of your pregnancy, and not until your safety was guaranteed would Feyd reveal the truth to his uncle’s court. If the Baron knew, it would quickly reach the Gene Besserit, and that would only make it harder to protect you. Not worth the risk, Feyd had told you. He didn’t trust that the Bene Gesserit were not lurking about somewhere.

But days passed, so many that you had no choice but to send a transmission to your handmaid back on your home planet, asking her to imitate your handwriting in a letter explaining that you had gone to Corrino to spend time with the Princess. Your parents would find it upon their return, and while there was a chance of confusion on their part, you and the Princess had a bond, and it was unlikely they would be so distraught at your sudden departure to feel the need to verify your whereabouts. 

Since then, two more weeks have come and gone. Feyd has found nothing from his search for Lady Margot; his men have returned with no clue as to her whereabouts on Arrakis; his spies have not sent word of her presence on Wallach IX, and you are getting restless, struggling to find the difference between yourself and a prisoner within a room once built for royal concubines. 

You know why he chose the room for your cell. Only the Harkonnens are supposed to know of its location. But still, something bitter fills your belly whenever you rehash the fear you had at ending up in this very space when you learned Feyd had impregnated a Bene Gesserit.

I was not going to be your concubine, is what you’d said. Yet by not being permitted to leave, you’re hidden more than any concubine ever would be. While Feyd is preoccupied day and night with the hunt, you dine alone, you sleep alone, you read stories to your unborn baby alone. 

Just a bit longer, you tell yourself. Then surely, you will have the freedom you crave, the freedom that allows you to join him at his side. 

—

Freedom does not come in the form you expect. There is no open door for you to step through. No light of day. No fresh air. Freedom from your room comes in the form of a gag shoved between your lips as you sleep, a bag thrown over your head, and two thick arms around your waist, lifting you from your bed. 

You scream for Feyd, but you can hardly hear your own muffled voice. You thrash in the grasp, but the arms holding you are locked. You’re hanging over a shoulder for what feels like hours due to the panic that rises with each step away from where you are supposed to be, and you can’t think clearly long enough to focus on where you’re going. You don’t count the steps. You lose track of the turns through hallways. 

Then suddenly, the air is different, stifling. You’re set on your feet. The grip on you is replaced by a hand on your back, shoving you forward. You stumble and catch yourself before you rip the bag from your head and the gag from your mouth, tossing them aside.

Another room encases you. One you’ve never seen, empty of all furnishings and windows. The walls and floors are the same shade of black, shiny and smooth like sharpened metal, and their sameness makes them appear blended together. It’s a hollow cube. And you’re trapped.

Your nerves spike. Your baby kicks, but it’s unlike the kicks you’re used to. This one is sharp, quick, as if in warning. 

“Be still,” you hear. 

And then you feel it, the way it weaves through the sections of your brain and latches on with the pointed fangs of a serpent. The way it settles deep into your gut. The way it spreads through you, infecting every motion and function of your body.

You imagined many times what it might feel like, but in none of your imaginings did you suspect such…pain. You never imagined that your heartbeat would no longer feel like your own, or like your lungs and your bones and the blood in your veins might betray you at any moment. 

Is this what Feyd felt when she had hold of him?

You hope not. 

Another stabbing sensation pierces through the shell of your skull as you uselessly fight and struggle to gulp more than a molecule of air down your throat. Your arms throb from the heavy pressure that is holding them down at your sides. 

“Turn” is an echo bouncing between your ears, and before you can even process the word, your legs are complying. Your body twists, bringing you face-to-face with the only other souls in the space. 

Her expression is blank, though her downturned lips leave her in a permanent frown. A hood is draped over her pulled-back blonde locks. Her hands are clasped, resting at her stomach where a baby should be, but a bump is missing from under the compressing corset of her black dress. 

She nods to the man at her side—a Harkonnen guard. You try to memorize his face for later. You’ll tell Feyd and he’ll have the man dealt with. But then again, if he is allowing his face to be shown at all, it���s unlikely he believes you will survive through the night. 

“Leave us,” Lady Margot says, and with a grunt, the guard does. 

As the door closes behind him, she watches you, expertly prying, skillfully examining. Her eyes trail from your face down your body. They stop at your stomach. Your hands push against their invisible bindings in an attempt to protect your unborn child, but the power over you is too strong. 

The Bene Gesserit moves forward, her heels clicking with each languid step. As she comes to a halt in front of you, a long breath leaves her nose.

“You’re ruining him,” she then says. Blue eyes flick to yours. “You know that, don’t you?”

Her lips thin and her brow pinches, but her gaze softens, almost as if remorseful over what she has to do to you. But you know better. You know an act when you see one, and you see sliminess behind those irises, violence tapped into. She’s like Feyd, willing to do what she must to get what she wants, unashamed about what that may be. 

“You’re interfering with destiny,” she continues, a gentle, unsettling tone to her voice. “Our child has been seen to have great potential. She will be a leader. She will change our worlds. Why would you want to meddle in something so significant?”

Even if you could respond, you’re not sure what you would say. That Feyd wants your child? That the love you share should be what determines his fate? It would not be enough to sway her. No one of power cowers to love, certainly not a Bene Gesserit, one of many women who live by mission over morals. 

Her head tilts. “You’re young. I understand this. But you’ve made a mistake.”

Lady Margot looks down and slides her left hand's fingers into the right sleeve of her gown. She pulls something free that you immediately identify once catching a reflective glint in the lower edge of your vision.

“This must be done. You decided so the moment you permitted him to keep you,” she says. Her open palm holds the small knife out to you. “Take it.”

Your arm thrusts forward and your fingers wrap around the hilt. Dread fills your gut. 

“Place it at your throat.”

A tear forms, trickling down your cheek as the sharp edge of cool metal settles against your skin. You close your eyes. You picture Feyd, your baby, what could have been, what was so close to being, and another droplet squeezes out from under your lashes. 

Lady Margot’s Voice infiltrates the beauty of your thoughts. “Now, cut your–”

A deep wail of fury forces her words to surrender to a gasp. Your eyelids snap open to find Feyd’s arm slashing horizontally toward Lady Margot’s neck. She trips out of the way, narrowly missing the edge of the blade in your lover’s hand. Feyd practical growls. He lunges for her once more, but again misses her small frame, her body skittering to the side just in time. 

Ever so slightly, the intangible strength holding you still loosens. Your fingers twitch. Your arm feels the weight of being held up for too long and your elbow dips an inch. 

With her back to you, Lady Margot retreats a step in your direction, then another, slowly, as if subtle movements might blend her into the walls like a small prey concealing itself within the grasses to avoid its predator. But it’s a wasted effort. Feyd is honed in, tracking her every motion. Her hands fist into the skirts of her dress as if preparing to lift them to better aid her escape. 

“Guard!” she then shouts. 

Your lungs take in the air they’ve been craving.

“Dead,” Feyd responds, and another strike of Lady Margot’s panic finally tips the aura of the room. 

She continues her cautious attempt at fleeing, her head turning from left to right and back, searching for a second exit unimpeded by Feyd’s monstrous frame. He continues to descend upon her, the distance between them closing. Your limbs begin to regain their own power as the tendrils woven into your brain unwind and recede. 

“S-Stop,” her Voice tries, but it only results in a moderate jerk of Feyd’s head and a tick in his jaw before his sights are targeted back on her. He takes another step. As does she. Your arm falls to your side. The blade nearly drops from your grasp, but you grip it tighter, keeping it firmly against your palm.

Then she is within reach. 

You act on instinct.

The gurgling you hear first, a sound that breaks through the ringing in your ears. Crimson is what you notice next. The color seeps around the edges of the metal. Then it’s the disgustingly unique scent of iron, and the feel of flesh almost gripping the blade in desperation to keep as much blood in the body as possible. When you pull it free, a waterfall drains down the side of her neck. 

Feyd watches, his expression unchanged, as Lady Margot’s knees give out and her head slams against the floor. A puddle forms beneath her, but you’re too stunned to move away from its rapid growth. Blood touches your toes, breaking into rivers around your feet. 

Both your blade and Feyd’s race to the floor as you feel his gaze latch onto you. You don’t meet his eyes, your own wide and stuck to the wall ahead.

He rushes forward. Your wrists are encased and he pulls you from the body’s reach. With his hands planted on your cheeks, he tips your head back to get a good look at your neck. You can sense a light, warm droplet running down your skin that he brushes away with his thumb. An expelled breath coats your face as he rests his forehead on yours. You haven’t blinked, and your eyes are going dry. You start to quiver as the reality of what you’ve done sinks in. 

“It’s okay,” he says. 

“I-I didn’t–”

Feyd pulls back and forces you to look at him. “You protected our baby.”

You protected our baby. You protected the baby. Your baby. His baby. Yes, you protected. 

That statement sinks in, allowing you to finally blink. You take in his face—the worry, the pride, the relief. Your nod is shaky and unsure, but he nods with you. 

“How…How did you know?” you ask. 

“You weren’t in your room,” he tells you. “I found the guard away from his post. He squealed after one stab.” He wraps your arms around his waist and presses your head against his chest and holds you.

You hug him, his form in your embrace being the one thing that can keep you sane in this moment. “What do we do?”

“You do nothing. I will handle it.”

—

It wasn’t nothing that Lady Margot’s life had been taken. You both knew that. But Feyd had a way of working around the truth when he needed to. So he told the Baron and Reverend Mother that a guard had killed her, thinking she was an intruder at the late hour, and that he had killed the guard for the mistake. 

To the Baron, that detailing of events was accepted as an unfortunate incident. Any emotion on his part was subtle and driven by the disappointment of losing an heir. The Reverend Mother, however, appeared much more skeptical. 

Not once during Feyd’s twisting of the truth did the Reverend Mother’s stare drift from you, or more specifically, from your slight bump of a stomach that was hidden under your dress. You wanted to shrink away from her, that desire doubling when Feyd officially revealed both your pregnancy and that Lady Margot was at no point bearing his child. A flicker of surprise set in the Baron’s eyes, but nothing altered the Reverend Mother’s expression. Nothing said changed the frown etched onto her face. 

It was a look of silent, composed frustration for ruining the stability of their plans, and it reminded you so much of Lady Margot that it wreaked havoc on your nerves. You recalled the light that left her eyes, the warmth of her blood at your feet. Your hands began to shake. Your throat went dry. What you had done was a stain on your conscience, unforgivable.

For many months following the meeting, you expected retaliation to come at any moment. Feyd assured you otherwise, claiming that all of Giedi Prime knew of your pregnancy and so the Bene Gesserit would not unleash devastation on the planet’s people by murdering the Harkonnen heir and the woman who would birth him. 

Still, you were unsure. 

Not until many weeks of their silence passed did you start to entertain his explanation. But only once it was brought to attention that the son of Arrakis was due to have an heir, a child carried by a Bene Gesserit, did you stop looking over your shoulder.

They were done with you for the foreseeable future, and that was enough.

Regarding Feyd, you never gained the strength to ask if he had somehow discovered the truth before he’d pointed a blade at Lady Margot. But deep down, you knew the answer. The day he attacked her for attacking you, you could see in his eyes that truly nothing would have stood in the way of protecting you, that no circumstances would have severed his determination to keep you safe. He was and always will be unstoppable. And you know the only guilt he has felt is for failing to end her life before she could threaten yours. 

He didn’t want this to be your burden. You were meant only to worry about your health and the health of your child. It was for your baby that Lady Margot had to die, and there should be no shame in that—so he claimed—not for your actions or his. 

“You must let this go,” he’d often say. Those words never did much for you in the way of alleviating your own guilt. But then he would follow it with, “All you were in that moment was a mother,” and it was that which eventually unknotted the remainder of the coils in your muscles. 

He was right. You had acted as a mother. You had not shoved a blade into Lady Margot’s neck to protect yourself; you’d done it guided by the need to preserve the life growing inside you. And reminding yourself of that is what saved you. It kept you from inflicting stress on your body and child for the final months of your pregnancy. You were finally able to focus on the health Feyd was so desperate for you to conserve. 

—

He takes after Feyd in nearly every available physical aspect: the outline of his face, the tone of his skin, the puffiness of his lips. It is his eyes that differ. The shape and color match yours so closely that peering into them is like looking in a mirror. But you thank the gods that those eyes in their youth and smaller form have not seen what you have seen; that he did not have to witness the events that brought him here. He will only ever know that his parents did their job in safely bringing him into the world, as parents are meant to do, and no other detail deserves to reach his ears.

As you run the tip of your finger down your son’s tiny nose, Feyd comes up behind you. 

“Are you ready?” he asks. 

Cradling your baby, you turn to face your husband. “Are you?”

Feyd reaches up to cup your cheek. His thumb strokes along your skin. He lightly smiles. He smiles more now than you have ever seen in the time you’ve known him, and it’s a sight you’ve quickly and happily adapted to. 

“I’ve been ready,” he says. “For months.”

You snort. “There was no baby to show for before last week.”

Feyd hums and wraps his arms around your waist. You grin at how your son fits perfectly between you. “That doesn’t mean I couldn’t eagerly await this day.”

A soft kiss touches your forehead, and you settle into the peace of the bubble around your small family. This is all you’ve wanted, all you’ve desired from the first night you were pulled under Feyd’s sheets. And though it may have required a fight through obstacles to be where you are, at least the universe gave you the opportunity to right the wrong and join you with Feyd as you were always meant to be. You’re not so naive as to believe everyone is granted that chance. 

“My Lord,” you hear, the bubble popping. You both turn your heads to the guard. “Everything is in place.”

Feyd returns a sharp nod, then, meeting your eyes, awaits your own nod of agreement. When you give it, he slides his hand into your free one. His palm is warm against yours. Your fingers intertwine, and together you walk out onto the balcony of the fortress. 

Your body is coated in a wave of heat and the light of the glaring sun blinds you, but you can hear the cheers, the many voices shouting your husband’s name as they await their moment to meet the Harkonnen heir. 

---

A/N: thank you for following this short series. If you enjoyed it, let me know. It always makes my day :)

[oneandonlybbygrl]

Part 3 of An Heir will be posted tonight. Sorry it took me ages 😅

[oneandonlybbygrl]

Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/N: Hey little doves! The next chapter will be the final one. Hope you'll enjoy it. Let me know if I forgot to tag you.

Warnings: SMUT!

Words: 2.371K

Chapter Fifteen

Duke Leto Atreides was in his council chamber, he gathered his most trusted men, Duncan Idaho, Gurney Halleck and their trusted soldiers, he was sitting in his rightful place, the winds of Caladan making a whistle sound that reached to his ears, there was a grim atmosphere in the council chamber, ‘’My lord,’’ Duncan started, he was sitting on Leto’s right side and Gurney on his left. ‘’Our spies in Giedi Prime informed me that Baron Vladimir has been gathering Shaddam’s men, the Sardaukars from Salusa Secundus to..’’ he swallowed, Leto gathered them and made them listen Na-Baron Feyd’s voice memo, ‘’to attack Arrakis and kill Na-Baron and,’’ Duncan felt like family here, under the Atreides House, so Y/N was also his family, ‘’Lady Y/N..’’ he finished with a flat tone but Leto could see the anger in Duncan’s brown eyes as he could see in Leto’s. They were sharing the common hatred towards the Baron and concern for his daughter Y/N. ‘’Then it means The Emperor Shaddam is involved in this scheme as well.’’ Gurney pointed out, scratching his grey beard, ‘’My Duke,’’ Gurney began and Leto turned his head towards him, ‘’What’s the plan?’’

Leto sighed, a certain determination written in his expression, ‘’We are going to kill the Baron.’’ Was his reply. There was no time, if the spies had given the information on Baron few days ago then it meant that they were most likely on the ships, on their way to Arrakis, Duke left Jessica behind, his son Paul was happily married and under the Emperor’s roof so Duke Leto knew that Shaddam wouldn’t harm him or his daughter, the one and only heir to the throne. Duncan and Gurney were in sync, gathering the soldiers into the ships, heavy arms and explosions, according to Duncan’s calculations they were going to meet Baron’s troops in the air, it was going to be an interesting battle and Duncan was looking forward to it.

Y/N was pacing in the bedchambers, it had been two days since the message which was sent by her husband, her father didn’t send a reply, did he abandon her to her fate? Did he have no concern for her or her safety? Thanks to her Bene Gesserit tricks she had learned from Feyd’s right hand man that Baron had gathered troops from Salusa Secundus, of course Feyd kept this from her, she felt betrayed by everyone, by Feyd since he kept this pivotal information from her, by her father who apparently left her to her fate, by the Emperor who kept Y/N in his domain, away from her family for so long… Maybe that was the reason why Duke Leto couldn’t form a connection and bond with her maybe that was the reason why no answer came from him, was he afraid of the Emperor? He was an old man now but with one snap of his fingers he could obliterate the entire universe.

On the other hand these past two days Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was planning attacks with what little men he had, fighting with Fremen to find his wife had consequences and he was facing them now. He was sleepless, he had only one motive, it was to protect his wife and their child, he had never felt a urge to protect someone like this before, of course with his mother he had these urges but this one was way different, more primal and ownership. She was carrying their child, a piece of him and her.  

‘’My Baron!’’ his men were calling him ‘’Baron’’ now, he didn’t order them to do, however, over the years every single Giedi-Prime citizen were fed up with the tight leash that Baron kept on them, and ever since Lady Y/N’s arrival even a blind person could see the change she brought and made Feyd-Rautha go under. Feyd turned to his right man, he was an old man with extensive knowledge, Feyd thought he was going to give information or tactics but there was a certain type of softness in the man’s grey eyes, ‘’Yes?’’ he asked, impatient. They were alone in Feyd’s study chambers, ‘’I’ve got it under control, go to your wife.’’ No one dared to talk to Feyd like that except him, the old man was on his side since Feyd started training in his childhood, they grew some bond together over the years, in that short sentence Feyd realized how busy he was, planning, getting ready for the upcoming battle, the young man only nodded and left the study chambers in rush.

She didn’t hear the door opening or Feyd locking it behind him, he leaned on the metal door for few seconds, watching her on the couch, her satin yellow dress hugging her curves deliciously, her long hair falling from her shoulders, he walked up to her and it made her look up with a smile, Feyd plopped down on the couch, resting her legs on his lap and started massaging her feet, he realized how tired he felt in that moment, these past two days felt like two years, ‘’Dove,’’ he called as soft as he could with raspy voice of his, ‘’It’s been a long day..’’ he added. She placed the book down on the empty coffee table, even though the upcoming battle was on her mind constantly she managed a soft smile, his hands on her feet felt strong and gentle, ‘’You must be tired my love.’’ She said.

‘’Very.’’ He murmured as he continued massaging her feet, he looked at her and noticed the smile and he smiled back, though it was a tired one, she could see the dark circles under his ocean blue eyes, ‘’I couldn’t focus on anything today,’’ he admitted, ‘’my mind was too scattered. But seeing you, my love, I feel calmer already.’’ She leant in and palmed his face, gave him a soft kiss on his plump lips.

He melted into the kiss, despite the exhaustion, her touch and affection ignited a spark within him. Feyd wrapped his hands around her waist, pulled her closer. He deepened the kiss, his lips moved hungrily against hers. It was as if all of his worries melt away for a moment, replaced only by his desire for her. He pulled her to his lap and held her tightly there, his hands resting on her thighs. He broke off the kiss to look at her, ‘’You have no idea how distracting you are wife.’’ his voice low and gruff. His hands slowly ran up her thighs, the silk of her dress bunching up around his wrists. His hands felt warm on her skin, ‘’Am I distracting you, husband?’’ he asked with a wicked smile as she grinded on his hard member through their clothes, she could feel him twitch under her, he let out a low moan, his grip on her tightened, ‘’You know you are,’’ his voice ragged. ‘’You drive me insane, my love.’’ His hands wandered up her body, slipping under her dress to the small of her back. Feyd’s blue eyes roamed over her, taking in the sight of her curves clad in satin and the desire building in his gaze. He needed her. Y/N continued humping on him, loving the way his large hands feel on her body, she could feel herself getting aroused, and his hard on was evident. Feyd’s breathing quickened, the feel of her body moving against his, through the fabric, sent sparks of desire through him. ‘’Gods pet…’’ he whispered, his voice rough with need. ‘’You’re absolutely sinful.’’ That earned a chuckle from her, ‘’You or me?’’ she asked sarcastically, she guided her hands so that he could take off the dress over her head, and now she was in her light yellow lingerie with laces that covers her breasts that getting larger due to the pregnancy, the band of her laced panties cutting her skin, Feyd’s breath caught as he took in the sight of his wife. The yellow lingerie contrasted beautifully with her skin, and the lace accentuated the curves of her body, curves that were made all the more delicious by her pregnancy. ‘’Definitely you,’’ he replied, his hands roamed over her body, exploring the new contours that pregnancy were giving her, even the changes were new but Feyd could tell, he wanted to worship her, to take her so completely. His hands moved to cup her breast through the fabric and it made her moan softly, her breasts were sensitive these days. His eyes darkened with her moan, it made him want her even more. ‘’You are so incredibly beautiful,’’ hands palmed her breasts, rubbing gently, ‘’every part of you.’’ He kept rubbing her sensitive breasts through the thin fabric, his touch was gentle, his fingers teasing, the fabric heightened the sensation, she could feel the heat pooling between her thighs as he played with her breasts, ‘’You drive me mad, love.’’ He whispered in her ear, ‘’I want to worship you, to make you mine completely.’’ With that her hands moved to his pants zipper, pulling it down, one of Feyd’s hands found her soaking core, she breathed sharply when his fingers made contact with the wetness. His breath hitched as he realized the wetness, she was soaked, begging for his attention. He had to remind himself that this time he wanted to take her slowly, tenderly. But the temptation to give in to his need for her was strong. ‘’Gods, love!’’ he rubbed her needing core as he spoke, gently, ‘’You’re so ready for me.’’ His hands on her soaking core sent electricity through her body, he pushed her panties aside to work his hands more, she was gasping and moaning with light touches of his fingers, her body ached for him, needing him to fill her as she was desperate for him. ‘’Little dove…’’ his lips were on her neck, tickling her, ‘’I want to hear you call my name. I want you to beg for me.’’ His words a mix of demand and desire. ‘’Feyd..’’ she moaned his name, ‘’Please…’’ he loved the way his name sounded on her lips, a desperate plea that went straight to his cock.

  ‘’Please what, little wife?’’ he asked playfully, his words a low, seductive drawl. He wanted her to say exactly what she needed and desired. ‘’I want you,’’ she palmed his face and looked into his eyes, ‘’deep inside of me.’’ And kissed him raw. His body responded immediately, pulling his pants down, he let her take control, Y/N helped him with his pants and then sat back on his lap, placed her wet entrance on hi hard and leaking cock, ‘’I’m going to give you exactly what you want, my love.’’ He growled against her lips, ‘’I’m going to fill you completely.’’ Feyd gripped her waist tightly, digging his fingers to her skin as she sank down, she moaned loudly as she felt Feyd fill her up with one stroke the hilt, Feyd’s eyes were almost crazed, fixed to her with a feral look. Her hands went to his shoulders, her tightness wrapping around him which made him growl in desperation. His hands went to her hips to grip and make her move slowly, ‘’You feel so good.’’ He breathed and Y/N started to move on him, Feyd watched his wife ride him, her breasts bouncing with the rhythm and with one swift move he ripped her bra, tossed it on the floor somewhere. His hand went to flick her nipple, the tip was so hard under his fingers he leaned into take it into his wet mouth, she gasped with the feeling. Her grip on his shoulders tightened, he teased and played with the nipple, he pulled back. His breath was hot against her chest, and his lips found hers as she bounced on his cock. Their kiss were hard and wet, his hands moved to her hips to guide her, they were breaking the kiss to moan and then kissing again. It was enough, Feyd flipped her on her back on the couch and mounted her, her legs wrapped around his waist quickly, pulling him deeper. He was on top of her, pounding like there was no one in this entire galaxy but her, Y/N was the only one who could get him like this, needy, desperate. ‘’Feyd..’’ she moaned his name over and over again when his large hand played with her clit, Feyd loved it when she moaned his name, ‘’Again.’’ He demanded with his raspy voice, ‘’Feyd-Rautha..’’ it was enough for him to come in her wet cunt, he was buried deep as he came he kept playing with her clit to bring her to come and she was a whimpering mess, ‘’I know, I know shhh..’’ she was shaking as she gushed, a pool of liquid left her core coating the couch.

He laid on top of her afterwards she pet his head gently, it was soothing to listen to her heart beat, his blue eyes closed involuntarily.

They were in each other’s arms, embraced the calmness in these hard times when their door violently knocked. Y/N opened her eyes with a heart beat that could be heard miles away. Feyd immediately jumped and made sure to help his wife get dressed, and then he took care of himself, marched to the door and unlocked it, his most trusted man entered. ‘’My Baroness.’’ He addressed Y/N first, and then Feyd, ‘’My Baron. I apologies to disturb you, however, we have detected ships approaching Arrakis, the ships are carrying House Harkonnen banners.’’ A grim atmosphere hung in the air. ‘’He is here.’’ Y/N whispered, her voice betraying her with a little shake, did that mean today was her last night? Feyd was going to fight for her till the end but if it meant also his death then…

‘’Ready our troops.’’ Feyd said to his man, looking stoic as ever, his man bowed and left the bed chambers. He turned to face the large windows, it was sunset, the ships of Harkonnens looked as if tiny dots in the Dune’s atmosphere, ‘’So it begins.’’ Feyd whispered to himself when his wife approached and held his hand.

Thank you so much for reading. :)

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[oneandonlybbygrl]

GRA (1) - Grumpy old man

Summary: You're roommates.

Pairing: TfatWs!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: grumpy Bucky, banter, jealousy, vomiting, a hint of fluff

Grumpy Roommate Adventures

He huffs while studying the newspaper. “Hmm…all those young people died this week,” Bucky grumbles as you sneak behind him to glance at whatever he’s reading.

You shake your head. Who reads the newspaper these days? We get news from apps or online newspapers.

“Stop being a grumpy old man, Barnes. Be happy you’re still young and full of energy…” You snicker because the people he called young are a ninety-five-year-old man and a ninety-nine-year-old lady.

Bucky makes a face, glaring in your direction as you are busy preparing a bowl of cereal.

You’re the cocky addition to the crazy bunch of people sharing a house. Sam and Bucky’s cat are the other two. And, of course, the biggest grump you ever met—James Buchanan Barnes.

The icy soldier, or whatever people called him in the past. You’re too tired of and disinterested in gossip to care about bad pet names.

“Who forgot to bring out the trash?” Sam calls from the living room. “It reeks, guys.”

“It was Bucky’s turn,” you lie and grin at Bucky, who narrows his eyes. “What?”

“I told you not to call me that!” He hisses in your direction. “And no. It wasn’t my turn to bring out the trash!”

“But you are the trashcan man!” You argue, pointing at his metal arm. “You’ve got the arm and all. I’m so weak and need help with carrying heavy stuff.”

He huffs, knowing you didn’t like he offered to carry your neighbor’s bags last week. Bucky is not interested in the quirky blonde but liked that you got angry and grabbed his hand.

“You can bring out the trash,” Bucky bites back. “I’m not going to do it again. You’ve got legs, so walk.”

“Big grump!” You grunt and slip off the chair to bring the trash out. It’s your turn, but you had hoped Bucky would lend you a hand too. “I guess you must be busty and brainless to get your help!” You snap at him before storming out of the kitchen.

“It helps not to be a grump!” He calls after you, laughing as you turn around and stick your tongue out.

“You’re an old, grumpy man, Barnes! Don’t you dare steal my cookies again! I won’t share!” You give him the stinky eye before turning to bring the trash out.

Sam watches you walk past him. You mutter under your breath when you get out of the house, only to face your neighbor. The busty blonde bitch tries to flirt with your roommate all the damn time.

“Y/N,” she coos and immediately walks toward you. “What a nice surprise to meet you here. How are you? Where’s James?”

“Uhm… I live here.” You roll your eyes. “Why would I not be around to bring the trash out? And I don’t know where the old man is hiding.”

“Oh! I thought your strong roommate would help you with that.” She cranes her neck to observe Bucky following you outside. Alpine tugged under his arm; he watches you fight with the trash can.

He smirks because you curse and mutter while stuffing the trash bag into the trash can. “Do you need help?” Bucky asks, earning a grunt from you. “I can lend you a hand, doll.”

“He’s so nice and dreamy,” your neighbor swoons, while you feel the bile rise in your throat. Urgh…the milk was not good. Clutching your stomach, you groan. “What’s wrong?” She screams when you spit your breakfast on her shirt.

“Fuck…the milk…urgh…” You groan and turn around to puke into the trash can, emptying your stomach.

“Shit, doll.” Bucky suddenly stands behind you to rub your back. “Did you not check on the milk? I think it was expired.”

He easily picks you up in bridal style, ignoring that your neighbor is whining about her shirt or that you puked on your shoes. “Let me down,” you weakly say. “I need to shower.”

“I’ll help you,” he shrugs when you glare at him. “What? I take any chance to get you naked…”

Tags in reblog.

[oneandonlybbygrl]

Wrecked (Part 1)

Summary: Dean's in the mood to push you to your limits tonight...

Pairing: Dom!Dean x sub!reader

Word Count: 1,000ish

Warnings: language, smut (dom/sub, sex toys, bondage)

A/N: This is part 1 of a 2 part fic I wrote with my friend Elaina (aka @campingmonkey )! To see part 2 written by her (linked below), be sure to hop over to her blog! Pst, she also makes gifs too!

____________

You arched your back, sighing quietly through your first orgasm, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Dean slid his body back up to yours, stealing your lips away for his own pleasure, smiling against them. You went to reach for his hair, keep him close, but felt the gentle tug of the padded restraint on your wrist.

“Good girl,” Dean murmured against your ear, one hand sliding between your bodies, finding your breast and brushing over your pointed nipple. You groaned as he teased it. A pinch here. Roll of the fingers there. You strained again, huffing when he tsked you. “Greedy tonight, are we?”

“Dean,” you growled, pouting when he stopped playing with you completely. His face hovered over yours, a dark smirk on his face.

“Good girls get orgasms and you’re not being very good right now. Maybe I ought to remind you how to behave.” 

“No! I can be good,” you said, Dean already winking and disappearing from view. You swallowed when he rolled off the bed, rummaging around. You lifted your head, frowning when he returned to the end of the bed holding a small black tube. 

“I love this little thing,” he said, flipping the switch on. You swallowed thickly, Dean grinning as you squeezed your legs together. “No, no. You wanted me to give you my full attention and you’ve got it.”

He swatted your thigh, the two of you staring at one another, silently fighting for control. “Open now or I edge you for an hour and you don’t get to come again tonight.”

You closed your eyes and relented. You spread yourself wide for him, Dean humming his satisfaction at your compliance. Your breath hitched as the bed dipped, the low vibrations of the mini vibe against your clit pleasant but nowhere near enough to get you off.

“Give me one, sweetheart,” he murmured, kissing up your body, mouthing at you nipple. “Just one and I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll feel me for days.”

You arched your hips up into his hand, Dean teasing you by pulling the vibe away. You yanked on the restraints again, Dean toying with your breast with his free hand, his mouth nipping at the other. With an ungodly amount of willpower, you forced your legs to go still and body to ease back into the bed. Dean rewarded you with the vibe, a thin layer of sweat breaking out over your warm skin. 

You whole body was tingly, wanting desperately that second orgasm that would blow the first one out of the water. Dean Winchester was a man that knew how to deliver on the first go around but there was nothing he loved more than pushing you to the edge of your limits and then some. Which was clearly his goal tonight. You could feel that familiar pressure in your core growing but Dean wanted that elusive nipple orgasm that you’d only managed a few times before.

He sucked hard on your breast, his pinching becoming borderline painful but god, it felt so damn good. Sparks of pleasure ran from your nipples straight to your clit, Dean humming as you started to grind against the vibrator. Hips rolled in time with his assault on your breasts, Dean sure to leave bruises behind. Fuck, you were right there, Dean greedily crushing the poor bud under his strong fingers.

And then the vibrations stopped and you thrust up into open air, clit throbbing as your deep, low orgasm rumbled through you, turning sharp and pointed when Dean didn’t let up teasing your breasts. You cried out, legs scrambling for something to squeeze, Dean pushing you through it until you were sucking in deep breaths.

“And you say you hate that toy,” he chuckled, swiping his tongue over your nipple, an ungodly spark of pleasure coursing through you. “So…sensitive.”

He brought the vibe up, leaning down to kiss you roughly as he let the tip of it drag over your swollen peak. You squealed straight into him, Dean’s tongue mapping out your mouth for the millionth time. You pressed your chest up, Dean kissing you harder as your head spun, a brutal wave of pleasure building up in your body.

“You’re right,” he said, suddenly pulling everything away, your head spinning as the cusp of another high was stolen. “Such a silly little toy. I ought to go throw this away.”

Some garbled half moan, half screech left your lips, Dean grinning and climbing on top of you. The tip of his cock hit your clit and you nearly forgot how to breathe.

“One more for me, sweetheart.” You were so wet there was no need for lube. Dean slammed himself inside of you in one go, resting one hand by your head. You squeezed your eyes shut, Dean’s lips finding yours. “Go as many times you need to, sweetheart, cause I ain’t stopping until I give you all I got.”

Dean’s hips snapped forward, your walls trying desperately to clamp down onto him as he fucked your pliant body hard and fast. You shouted against his closed lips when the vibe touched your clit, an orgasm rocking through you, head pounding. Dean didn’t falter one bit, even with the added friction of your death grip on his cock. Over and over, your toes curling, legs wrapped around his back so hard you knew you’d leave marks on him.

Your orgasm barely faded before you rolled into the next one, Dean kissing under your jaw as you openly shouted. Too much pleasure rocked your body, too much heat, too much of Dean’s scent, his kisses, his body all around yours.

You threw your head back hard when you came around him, Dean biting your collarbone, his cock throbbing as he came deep within you.

____________

A/N: Be sure to check out Part 2 here!

[oneandonlybbygrl]

𝒲𝒾𝓏𝓏 is the best way to meet new friends.

[oneandonlybbygrl]

Princess!reader, who waited so long for her best friend, Sirius, to get back from war. She spent every night picturing him, how he'd look when he came home, if he'd still smell like the same boy she fell asleep against in the orchards..

She was so excited the day she got a letter from him. He was finally coming home. The war was over. He was victorious, and he couldn't wait to see her.

Only, when he came home, he wasn't alone. She didn't realise it at first. Sirius was all she could focus on, the way he swept her up in his arms, his muscles bigger than the last time she'd seen him. She didn't even register where he was taking her until he set her down on the bed.

Innocent and confused, she looked up at him, waiting for him to speak, to tell her all about his travels, the battles he fought.. but he didn't, and then she heard it.

The door closed, but sirius was already inside. When she glanced over, she nearly screamed. A tall, tan, scarred man stood by her door, with mousy brown hair and sword resting on his hip.

That's when sirius finally spoke. He glanced at the man before returning his attention to her.

"This is my friend. We fought together. You don't mind him being here, right?" He smiled, and her stomach flipped. She'd always loved the way he'd grin at her, too pure to notice how it's changed from the sweet, innocent smile he had as a child, to something darker, smirking down at her with something other than merely happiness.

She was nervous. She'd never been around a man like the one who stood by her door, but she trusted sirius. He'd never hurt her. He just spent a year in a foreign country fighting a war for her father, the king.

She couldn't help but feel a strange sensation in her tummy, though. She didn't know this man, even if sirius did. Her father had told her never to be alone with a man, that she always needed someone to supervise, but it was just sirius.. and his friend..

He was so big, and he had a look on his face that the Princess had never seen before. Sirius had gotten bigger, too. She felt how much stronger he'd gotten when he picked her up. His arms had nearly doubled in size, and his chest was firmer.. He wasn't just pretty anymore..

He was manly now, and it made her feel things, things she'd felt once or twice before, but never this strongly..

Part two?? (Pt.2 will contain smut if I write it!!)

[oneandonlybbygrl]

Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/N: Hello little doves! We're coming closer to the finish line with this fic. Maybe 2 chapters left, so enjoy! Don't worry I have other ideas about our Na-Baron ;) (Tag List is open! Let me know if i forgot to tag you or if you changed your handle, cus i can’t find some of ya’ll sometimes 🥲)

Warnings: Smut continous!

Words: 2.308K

Chapter Fourteen

 He knew his size so he tried his best but the animal inside of him was clawing to take over, to give in to his instincts. He tried to focus on her, on her face, on her body, on the way she felt around him, he tried to keep his movements measured, even as the need for more grew stronger with each moment. It was a battle of wills, a struggle against himself and he tried to stay the course. As she had gotten used to the rhythm she knew the look on his face, he was controlling himself, she knew that he wanted to be rough, ‘’Feyd,’’ she moaned, ‘’Faster..’’ his eyes darkened with the last sentence, his body responding instantly. Hearing her say ‘’Faster.’’ Sent a spark through him, and the wild animal inside of him started to break free. She was challenging him, making him lose control,  and the animal inside him wanted to rise to the challenge. Feyd felt her trust in him, and that only made him want her more and he started to pick up the pace, his body moving with a new intensity. She moaned in pleasure and shock, she was once again reminded of how strong he was, her hands went to his muscular chest, her tits bouncing with the fast rhythm, Feyd grabbed her wrists tightly with one hand and pinned them above her head, he wanted to take her, dominate her, ‘’I trust you..’’ she managed to say, she wanted to see him lose control. Something in him snapped, his control slipped, broken by the trust Y/N put in him. The animal within him took over completely, no longer held back by anything. He pulled out for a moment, flipping her around her stomach, and pushed her into the bed, he pinned her arms behind her back with one hand. She obliged, had no other choice. Feyd leaned down and growled into her ear, ‘’I’m going to show you what it means to belong to me.’’ And then he pushed in her, filling her with one harsh push. Feyd’s need for her consuming him, he was slamming into her relentlessly, ‘’My little dove..’’  only thing he cared about was getting as deep as he could. The animal side of him was in total control, and he was driven by nothing but the primal need to possess his wife, to make her his own. His words are harsh, breathless, and desperate. ‘’You’re mine, all mine. Don’t fight back, just take it like a good little wife you are.’’

He spanked her ass with his free hand, his hand coming down with a  loud slap. He was in complete control, fueled solely by the primal need to dominate her. ‘’You’re going to take what I give you my little wife.’’  Their skin slapped with each movement, their moans and whimpers filling the air, he could feel she was close again, he kept spanking her, he was adoring the way she let him do this.

Feyd was close, watching her ass jiggle, the sound of their skin collapsing was too much and, his free hand stopped slapping her ass cheek and found its way on her clit, he wanted her to come with him, ‘’Give me another one sweet wife.’’ He was towering her, his lips on her ear and he bit her earlobe,

‘’How did it feel to watch me fight today?’’ he asked with his raspy voice and she was whimpering under him, her body started to shake like it did before, ‘’That’s it!’’ he encouraged his wife, ‘’Come for me little dove.’’ His hand rubbing her clit and his monster cock in her drove her mad and she felt her release like the waves crushing to the shore, she was gushing and also felt Feyd release himself in her core. They were a hot mess, sheets were soaked underneath them.

Even though it was their second time having sex in this 2 month old marriage it was as if their bodies and souls had met years ago. For once Feyd-Rautha appreciated the Bene Gesserit for matchmaking, although he had his eyes on her since their childhood the witches of Bene Gesserit were onto something. He needed no one but her.. and their child.

Feyd got up and carefully lifted her numb body, carried his wife to the bathroom, there was a grey marble tub, big enough for both of them and he filled it with warm water and then placed her inside. He poured the oils he liked on her skin and hair, rose and lavender. Those had never grown in Giedi Prime but whenever Y/N visited the planet she smelled like those scents so as a child and in his teenage years he looked forward to her visits, just to be in her presence… she had no idea how he had waited and yearned for her.

Later he got into the tub, her back was on his chest so he started to brush her wonderful hair, he always wanted to do that, ‘’I have always admired your hair.’’ He found himself admitting, the almighty Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was nothing but a soft man with her, ‘’Really?’’ she asked curious, she figured it out before when he kept looking at her hair or smelling her head. ‘’I like the way it bounces and captures the perfumes and oils you wear.’’ His large hands were so soothing, massaging her scalp, ‘’Hmm..’’ she hummed in pure bliss, Feyd’s hand went to her stomach, he still couldn’t believe she was carrying their first child. He was going to be a father. He remembered his own father, Abulurd Rabban, Baron’s step-brother. He didn’t realize he huffed in discomfort, ‘’What’s wrong?’’ she asked turning her head, she saw him on her peripheral vision, he seemed… sad.

‘’I just remembered my father.’’

She felt a stone drop in her stomach, she remembered the book she had found back in Giedi Prime’s dark fortress,

Emmie Rabban’s cause of death: Matricide

Abulurd Rabban’s cause of death: Patricide

‘’What do you remember about him?’’ she asked carefully, Feyd’s hand still on her stomach, rubbing gently, ‘’I was taken to my uncle when I was an infant so I only know the stories of him.’’ He began and Y/N let him speak, ‘’He became the Count of Lankiveil, there he fell in love with my mother…’’ he paused which caught her attention, her heart started to beat faster, was her fate going to be the same as his mother?‘’Emmi Rabban, was her name. She was from House Rabban, a minor House. After the marriage my father renounced the Harkonnen name and took up my mother’s family name.’’ To her core she felt the love they had for each other, no man in their right mind would take his wife’s House name. He must have been madly in love to lose his powerful and prestigious name. ‘’Maybe I can make you an Atreides.’’ She joked to lighten the mood and Feyd chuckled deeply, ‘’What happened to your father?’’ she asked as if she didn’t know that he was patricide. ‘’Baron ordered Glossu to kill him.’’ He said, his voice flat, ‘’I am so sorry Feyd.’’ She whispered and fully turned to him, splashing water to the ground but she didn’t care, she sat on his lap, it made sense because Glossu Rabban was much older than him but Emmi Rabban had died years later. Could it be him? Y/N also realized that Feyd started to address his uncle and brother as Baron and Glossu Rabban, her Bene Gesserit instincts were telling her that he was starting to drop the blood bind that he shared with them. Y/N’s hand went to his pale face, the back of her fingers brushed his cheek, he seemed a man tortured, she didn’t want to imagine what kind of manipulative lessons he got from Baron, what kind of sick and twisted teachings he had to go under, ‘’Feyd?’’ she whispered softly, ‘’Hmm?’’ he was leaning to her touch, ‘’What happened to your mother?’’ she asked directly, Feyd froze for a second, in his deep ocean eyes she could see the hesitation. She was about to find out. ‘’I used to see her, as much as Baron let me see her.’’ He began, Y/N held her breath. ‘’As I reached my teenage years I started to sneak into her planet, more often than the Baron wished. He was afraid that I might run away and live with her. Gods knew I did,’’ he exhaled, ‘’I wanted to live with her so bad and he knew.’’ She could hear the agony in his raspy voice, his child like image came to her mind, wanting to be with his only living parent. It broke her heart. Y/N kept her silence so that he would explain further, the scent of lavender and rose made them more relaxed and loose, it was a rare moment to see him like this.

‘’One day, I was visiting her again, apparently Baron’s spies were everywhere, that they I learned it in a harsh way.’’ Y/N held her breath, ‘’I was getting ready to leave, she kissed my cheek and held my face in her warm palms until her nose started to bleed, her palms got colder quickly, and she fell to the floor,’’ Feyd’s eyes were looking away from her, focused on a spot in the grand bathchamber, ‘’Baron had made my personal chef put a certain substance in my food that anyone touched me in 12 hours they would get poisoned, it was a type where it didn’t have any effect on the consumer. I could do nothing to stop it.’’

Y/N’s Bene Gesserit senses were telling her that he was off the hook, he was the one who caused it but he was unaware of it. Her human side was aching in agony, this poor boy must have felt that he was the reason and blamed himself for years and years. She held his face in her palms, like his mother did. ‘’It wasn’t your fault.’’ She said softly, ‘’I am aware of that-‘’

‘’It wasn’t your fault Feyd.’’ She meant it, every word and with that Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, the fearsome Na-Baron of Giedi Prime, the Whip of Arrakis (that’s what the Fremen addressed him as) started to shake violently, as if the years of pain and self blame surfaced and his buried his face in his wife’s neck, pulling her harshly and tears left his ocean blue eyes.

All she could do was to be there and hug him, their naked bodies clung to each other, they became one, their souls pouring to each other’s hearts. In that moment she swore to herself that it was just her and him, and their little baby.. in her mind’s eye she saw a vision, Feyd was holding a baby in his arms and Y/N was holding the other… in that moment her Bene Gesserit trainings told her that she was carrying twins and she decided on the babies gender, a boy and a girl and she was going to suggest to name them as Emmi and Abulurd to honor her husband’s parents and pay a homage to them. They died but their names shall live in their grandchildren.

The very next morning Feyd woke up early, in fact he didn’t get much sleep, his dark and twisted mind was alert, making plans to save his wife and child, little did he know that there was an extra one. He remembered the conversation he had with his wife’s father, Duke Leto Atreides on the wedding day,

‘’Duke Leto,’’ he called for him, ‘’May we speak in private?’’ it was before the arena.

‘’Yes, we may.’’ And Feyd took him to his study. ‘’Do not have any fear for your daughter’s future for I am her provider and protector starting today. She will be taken care of the way she wishes. Not a strand of her hair will be harmed. You have my word.’’ And he bowed respectfully.

Leto looked at him different than the day his daughter was taken. Today he was going to be his son-in-law, the father of his future grandchildren, ‘’If you need anything,’’ Leto began, ‘’I will be there for you, son.’’ And he hugged Feyd. Feyd wasn’t used to getting hugs or sentimental things from his family members so he was startled at first but he hugged Leto back.

He slowly left the bed, got dressed in black, as usual and he marched to his study room, there he sat and got his personal device to send a voice memo, he hesitated before he pressed the button to record his voice but then he exhaled and pressed the button, the device turned green it was recording.

‘’Greetings Duke Leto Atreides, This is an urgent message, my wife has fled Giedi Prime and came to Arrakis. Due to this action my uncle demands her head,’’ he paused, the gravity of the situation hitting him all at once, ‘’I have promised you that I will keep her safe, and you said if I needed anything you would be there..’’ he had a warm feeling in his chest when he remembered how serious and willing Duke Leto was in that moment and he continued recording his voice, ‘’ I am going to take over Giedi Prime and become it’s rightful Baron. I need your, House Atreides’ support and I need it very soon. Your daughter needs your support… I need your support. Please help us.’’

Asking for help wasn’t something he used to, all his life he never asked for something because his slaves where there for his every need and desires, it wasn’t an easy message to record.

Feyd stopped the record and immediately sent it to Caladan.

Thank you for reading. :)

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[oneandonlybbygrl]

Rise from the ashes (1) - Into the woods

Summary: You're abandoned, but the woods offer more than trees.

Pairing: Alpha(dark king) Ari Levinson x Omega!Reader

Warnings: angst, betrayal, a/b/o, scenting, protective Ari, character's death (unnamed alpha), werewolf au, transformation

A/N: In my story, they live in a strict a/b/o verse. If an omega is rejected, she’ll be banned from the pack and left to die.

The wind gently tugs at the white, silky dress you’re wearing for today’s ceremony. You are the chosen one this time. The last unbonded omega to be chosen by a mate.

You’re giddy and excited, but a little scared too. What if you do not like the alpha choosing you? What if he regrets his claim one day?

“Follow me,” the head alpha says, guiding you toward the clearing of bloom. The place where bonds are forged for eternity. A holy place, a sacred one. No one would dare to shed blood here in war.

You obediently follow the alpha, your leader, and the most trusted person in your pack. His words are the law. No one disagrees with him.

“You know the procedure, right? Your parents taught you well, or so I heard,” the leader talks more to himself than you. This is routine to him. A new omega every month. Faceless women, guided toward their fate.

“Yes, Alpha Prime,” you murmur, afraid to anger him if you speak louder. Some people told you that your voice is unpleasant, and that’s the last thing you want to reveal today.

“I like the dress you chose and that you’re not wearing too much make-up or perfume. The alphas will be pleased scenting your natural scent.” Your heart flutters at his praise. Maybe the ceremony of fate is nothing you have to fear after all.

All eyes are on you standing in the middle of the sacred flower field. Your heart beats out of your chest as the unmated alphas approach you.

“You all know the rules. You can scent but not touch her, alphas. Be respectful, or the moon goddess will punish you for breaking the rules.” Alpha Prime’s voice booms through the night. “We shall begin now!”

You hold your breath as the first alpha moves closer, stopping only inches from you. He sniffs in your direction, huffing before he steps away. No match, but you still hold your hopes high. There are more than fifteen alphas. One of them will choose you. You’re sure about it.

A gentle breeze touches your skin, tugging at your dress as more alphas step toward you. They line up, scenting you, looking you up and down, even circling you before every single one leaves without laying claim on you.

Your eyes water as only a few alphas are left. There must be something wrong with your scent, or you. How can every single one reject you?

You wring your hands as two alphas step closer. They sniff at you, waiting for a moment before shaking their heads in unison.

With each rejection, your heart sinks further, but you refuse to let despair consume you.

The last alpha steps forward. He takes his time, circling you slowly, his nostrils flaring as he takes in your scent. Hope flickers within you, but it dies as quickly as it bloomed when he too shakes his head and steps back.

Cold fear grips your heart. You know what this means. If no one chooses you as their mate, you cannot stay in the pack for longer.

“The alphas have spoken,” the leader says. There’s something in his eyes you haven’t seen before. You expected a hint of sadness or regret for what he’s about to do, but all you see is relief.

The strongest guards of the pack step forward; they grab you to wrap a rope around your wrists. It’s unnecessary. How could you fight a whole pack? Your fate has been decided. You’re going to do the walk and die in the dark woods no one dares to enter.

“Rules must be followed. Y/N, you will be permanently banned from our pack. You’re not allowed to come back. If you dare to step onto our territory, you’re going to die through my hands,” Alpha Prime declares, still no regret in his eyes.

The guards drag you away. You don’t fight them. Head hanging low, you try to not cry. You want to keep the rest of your dignity.

Alpha Prime is right. Rules must be followed.

The guards are silent while Alpha Prime and his brother whisper. You try to catch their conversation and frown as they talk about this year’s sacrifice. Your name falls from their lips, and you finally lift your head.

“The forest god will be all too happy with her. Her scent is pleasant,” Alpha Prime whispers. “It was a struggle for all the alphas to not choose her.”

Your heart drops. Deception. All the rules and ceremonies are an illusion. You’re a sacrifice to some god? How can this be? Does anyone else know about this?

The guards stop right at the border, parting your territory from the pack of the dark woods’ territory. They live further in the woods, but you won’t make it to their territory.

Whatever is lurking in the woods will get you first.

“Be honored.” Alpha Prime whispers in your ear. “We choose only the special ones to become the sacrifice. Every single alpha wanted to claim you, Y/N.”

His words mean nothing to you. The rules, the hierarchy, mating, alphas—nothing makes sense anymore. The betrayal cuts deep as they push you over the border. You stop to look over your shoulder, but the guards aim their guns at you.

“Go, make us proud,” Alpha Prime says. He lifts his hands to the moon, howling loudly as you set into motion.

You run faster than ever before. Maybe you can make it to the dark forest’s pack. Maybe they will take you in. Maybe you won’t die tonight.

Your lungs are burning. You’ve got blisters on the soles of your feet, but still try to keep on pushing forward. “Where to?” You ask yourself while hiding behind a large tree.

It’s pitch black, and you don’t know where you are going. You lost orientation and track of time shortly after you started to run.

“I can’t… I just can’t,” you sniffle and sink to your knees, hugging yourself. “It’s impossible to escape fate.”

“Fate?” A deep voice coming out of nowhere says. It sounds as if your mind is trying to mock you as it continues. “Your fine people send random girls to my woods once a year. This is not fate; this is illegal waste disposal.”

“We are not waste!” You rise to your feet again to yell into the darkness. “We didn’t know anything about this sacrifice shit. They lied to us,” you sniffle. “They lied…”

“Fate. Ceremonies. Nonsense!” The voice booms, making even the ground shake. Whatever or whoever is trying to make fun of you must be a very powerful being.

“Moon goddess?” You immediately sink to your knees and lower your head. “Forgive me my impertinence.”

“Get back up,” the voice chastises. “We don’t have time for this. In these woods, rogues have been sneaking around my territory for ages. You don’t want to encounter them.”

“Rogues?” You shriek as someone grabs your arms to force you back on your feet. He steps away to get a better look at you.

The dim moonlight offers a good view of the man.

You gasp as you face a tall alpha. His blue, piercing eyes are framed by a strong jawline and a neatly trimmed beard that accentuates his rugged good looks.

The way he stands, with his arms crossed and his expression brooding, tells you he’s a man used to being in control.

The dark blue shirt he wears clings to his broad shoulders and muscular frame, hinting at the strength that lies beneath.

“Who are you? You’re not the moon goddess…”

“Oh, you got that already?” He smirks as you look at him with angry eyes. “The moon goddess does not wander among mere humans. Not in these woods anyways.”

He is silent for a moment, dipping his head as he listens to the noises in the woods.

“What are you doing?” You whisper, afraid there’s more in these woods than the cocky alpha.

“We have to go.” He grabs your bound wrists and drags you with him, not giving you the chance to protest.

The alpha is fast. Faster than you as he runs through the woods, forcing you to keep up with him. “Omega, don’t give up. We don’t want to get eaten by the rogues.”

“Eaten?” You pant heavily when he finally stops in his tracks.

He sniffs left and right, eyes turning red as he scents some other alpha. Gritting his teeth, he growls low in his throat. He throws his head back, howling, making the ground shake once again.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave this one to me. If not, you can try to fight the dark king.”

“Dark king,” you whisper under your breath. Many stories about the dark king have been told to you and the others in your pack over the years. The elders called him a beast with red eyes and poisonous claws. A werewolf from the dark ages.

He dips his head, listening closely as you hear footsteps coming in your direction.

“They never learn,” he sighs deeply before turning his head toward you. “Step back, hide behind the tree, and don’t come out before I’m back to myself.”

You nod and run toward the tree, hiding behind it. You’re shaking in fear as you dig your fingertips into the bark of the tree.

“I guess this means you want to fight,” he laughs and cracks his neck loudly. The alpha rolls his shoulders and stretches his back.

While he takes off his shoes, pants, and shirt, the footsteps come even closer.

You shiver and press your body closer to the tree.

“Last warning,” he says. “I’ll let you live if you go now.”

You don’t know if he tries to trick the men or if he has lost his mind. He stands naked in front of three tall alphas, and all he does is howl.

“He’s going to end up dead,” you murmur to yourself. You can’t shift without the power of the moon and will end up dead too if you try to help him.

A deep, guttural growl rumbles in his chest. His eyes flash red again as his features begin to morph.

His jaw elongates into a muzzle, making you gasp. How can he shift without a full moon?

His fingers lengthen and sharpen into deadly claws as you watch the men stop in their tracks. They look as confused as you are.

As his transformation continues, thick, coarse fur spreads all over his body. His massive, muscular frame casts a shadow that sends shivers down your spine.

“He transformed without the moon!” The men gasp and whine while you’re too shocked to even blink as the largest wolf you have ever seen moves toward the rogues.

He jumps at them, killing their leader with one bite to their neck.

“These are my woods. No one hurts animals or people seeking shelter here. Leave and never come back.”

The wolf growls, making the other men run for their lives. He doesn’t follow them, though.

“How—” You step toward the wolf to get a closer look. Your hand reaches out to touch his fur, and he lets you. “Why can you shift without the full moon?”

The wolf turns around to sit in front of you. He’s an impressive sight. At least seven feet tall, the wolf looks down at your small, trembling form.

“The moon goddess blessed me,” he purrs before nuzzling the hand you’re still holding up. The huge wolf closes his eyes, enjoying your soft caresses. “We need to go. More of them will come.”

You watched him shift back, cheeks heating up as he put his clothes back on. He was, in any form, impressive and beautiful.

“You killed one, but not the others,” you whisper as he looks you all over for any sign of injuries. “Why?”

“He was the leader and killed one of the omegas they sent here last year. I came too late…” He shakes his head. “I must protect the innocent. I failed her. I won’t fail again.”

“Why did you let the others get away then?”

“They didn’t do anything,” he replies. “I only kill if it’s necessary. He was a monster; the others weren’t."

“I don’t even know your name,” you hold out your other hand. “My name is Y/N.”

“I know,” he says, smiling softly. “The moon goddess talked to me in my sleep. She sent you to me. I’m Ari, your alpha, your true mate. And you are going to become my queen…”

[oneandonlybbygrl]

What He Likes

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: When five daughters of Great Houses arrive on Giedi Prime, Feyd is meant to select one as a wife. But out of all of the foreigners on his territory, it is the Princess of Kaitain’s handmaid that catches his eye.

Notes/Warnings: Feyd is possessive as usual.

Words: 3100

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen likes what he likes. There’s no complexity to it. No hidden criteria. What he likes is decided in a straightforward manner based solely on gut instinct, and questions of whether or not it is wise to like what he likes do not follow. He simply sees a thing, enjoys how it looks, and therefore, likes it.  

When the eligible women of five Great Houses stand before him in a neat little row, he likes none of them. Four Ladies and a Princess, all of whom do not hit him in the gut with that feeling, and all of whom have flaws fatal to the name of House Harkonnen. 

Atreides—a lame attempt at a peace offering. Fenring—a Bene Gesserit witch. Corrino—a spoiled, royal brat existing under the shadow of her eldest sister. And the other two, Kenric and Wallach, have faces he cannot be expected to look upon for the rest of his life. 

Not one brushes the cusp of satisfactory. Not one is good enough to take for a bride. But then, as he dismisses them so they may return to their quarters before the evening meal, Feyd spots a thing he likes. 

The Princess’s handmaid. A woman who pays him not a lick of attention as she trails the royal out the door. A woman who forces the pace of his heartbeats to thump twice as fast.

Perfect, he thinks. Stunning.

And without hesitation, Feyd selects his wife. 

—

Reader POV

“The na-Baron has sent a guard to collect you,” Fenring’s handmaid informs you as she comes back into the room, tying a robe around her waist and plopping down on her assigned bed beside Wallach. 

A lump settles in your stomach. The na-Baron—the man who has encouraged your future demise at the hands of the Great Ladies due to the attention he has neglected to provide them in favor of keeping his eyes on you. 

Over seven days, they’ve been ignored entirely, as has his sense of propriety. He has invited you to dine beside him, filling your plate before bothering to notice if the women of high status have had their plates filled. He has asked you questions and listened attentively to the answers you’ve felt obligated to provide. He has ensured you’ve had a seat of phenomenal vantage to witness his arena duels, seeking you out and smirking at you as lifeless bodies slide off of his blade. 

For every new morning there comes a new method of making fools out of the women who could have your neck sliced open should they so choose. And now, so it seems, he intends to bring that trouble into your nights.

“Why?” you ask, trying to cast aside the painfully obvious. You would be thrilled if one of the other handmaids could chime in with something unexpected, something not nearly as vulgar as what you’re imagining he wants from you. 

Wallach and Fenring shoot you a look that suggests you can’t possibly be so ignorant. 

“Why do you think?” Atredies says. “I’m surprised it took him this long.” She swipes a comb through her long locks before pointing the end of the tool at you. “You need to find a way to end whatever this is before it gets you executed. Our Ladies are just as irate over the situation as the Princess.”

Irate—a gentle word. Requests from the Princess have been trivial to a degree you’ve never before dealt with in her servitude. She has snatched any opportunity to humiliate you, degrade you. It is a burden you have shouldered with grace, but so long as the na-Baron refuses to find enjoyment in your torture, your unprotested compliance will continue to mean nothing to the Princess. 

You wish he would laugh with her, just once. It would do you a world of good. But he’s not required to amuse the Princess. He does not have to bow to anyone since the Harkonnen’s growth in power shifted the hierarchy of the Houses. 

“What do you propose I do?” you ask. 

“Let him have you,” Kenric says. “Let him get you out of his system. If he’s no longer infatuated with you, he will finally choose a bride.”

You blanche but you do not immediately dismiss her suggestion. Kenric’s handmaid is older than you by at least a decade, and when she speaks, the rest of you listen. She has watched handmaids come and go from the mistakes they have made. She has seen how replaceable a young woman of humble birth with a limited skill set is. She knows the fights worth fighting and the fights worth surrendering, and there is much to be learned from her experience. 

“That simple?” you say. 

“If you make it that simple,” she replies with a nod. Then she grabs you by your shoulders and spins you around, lightly shoving you toward the door. “It’s for your own good. So go.”

Your heart batters your ribcage as you recover from a stumble. Your first steps are hesitant, unsure if you’re doing the right thing. But you collect yourself, and without looking back, you continue onward, coming face-to-face with a towering figure; pale, a ghost stark against the shadowed hallway. 

“Do not lag behind,” is all he says before he turns on his heel.

You follow him through darkness, past door after door, rounding corner after corner until he finally halts and gestures for you to enter a room. Knowing it isn’t a choice, you step inside. 

You’re relieved to find the space decently lit from the glowing orb of white light hovering near a desk. You scan the area. His bedroom, each inch of it covered top to bottom in black. Painted walls, marble floors, drawn curtains, furniture—all a shade so deep that if you peer too long at any given section, your mind will begin to play tricks on your vision. 

“What’s your name?” suddenly greets your ear in a gravelly voice. Your body flinches and your head whips in the direction of the sound. Somehow, you hadn’t noticed him leaning on the wall with his arms crossed, his brow low, his chin tilted toward his chest. 

He stares at you. Intensely. Unceasingly. A gaze that reaches past what you’ve witnessed in your lifetime. You’ve seen a lover’s stare between couples, but this is different, and it’s clear you’ve lived naive to how deeply a man can look at a woman. 

Heat blooms on your face. “My name?” You hadn’t noticed that he’d yet to ask. To be fair, though, no one ever asks for your name. Perhaps he understands the danger of doing so in front of others. 

“You have one, I assume,” he says. “Or do I need to give you one?”

You frown. “I’m not a slave.”

The na-Baron’s lips twitch in a smirk. His chin lifts and you get a full view of his face. The angles of his cheekbones. The straight line of his nose. The edge of his jaw, sharp from the shadows butting up against his illuminated alabaster skin.

He’s beautiful—you can’t pretend otherwise. A rare kind of beautiful. The kind of beautiful that makes no sense. Strange, alien beauty that wreaks havoc on your heart rate. 

You haven’t let yourself appreciate just how beautiful he is prior to now, always making an effort to look downward in his presence. And thank goodness you had enough sense. Had you taken a moment to truly observe him, you might not have been able to resist admiring. 

“Then tell me your name,” he says, and gulping down the knot in your throat, you do as he asks. He tests the word on his tongue. He nods. “Good.”

“Good?”

“I like it,” he tells you. “Which means I don’t have to change it.”

You tamp down your offense, steeling your face as you remind yourself of how little control you have. A handmaid versus the na-Baron of Giedi Prime. Your odds are poor. 

“With all due respect, my Lord, what is it I can do for you?”

His eyes continue to be invasive, hungry, like the lions you used to read about in your spare time. Practically uncanny. The na-Baron captures the predatory glare of the beast so well that they could stand side-by-side and you would not be able to decide which of the two is more menacing.

Pushing off the wall, he slowly closes in on you until he’s a single pace away from colliding with your body. His smirk drops, then he says, “How would you like to be my wife?”

Your lungs seize. Death flashes before your eyes, a scene more horrific than what you’ve been conjuring over the last handful of days. Instead of the Princess’s hand around your neck, all of Kaitain will be chanting for your head on a spike. If they hear of the handmaid who went to Giedi Prime as a servant only to attempt stealing from the Princess, they’ll drag you to public slaughter. The handmaid who overstepped her bounds—let us make an example of her betrayal. 

“I asked you a question,” he continues, yanking you from your thoughts. 

You take a breath. “My Lord, I am not the offering from Kaitain. I am the Princess’s handmaid.”

Blue orbs lazily rake up and down your figure. You contain a shiver. “Yes, I have eyes.”

“Then you know she is the one for you to choose.”

“The Princess does not suit my taste,” he admits shamelessly, unbothered. His gaze falls to your lips, neediness passing between you as if he’s desperate to claim them with his own. It quickly fades, and he meets your eyes again. His voice is soft when he says, “The Emperor should not have sent you with his daughter. He knows what you look like. It is not my problem if he is foolish enough to tempt me with something better than what he views as his best.”

The dangerous flattery makes your stomach flutter, but then it flips unpleasantly. “There is no better choice than the Prin–”

“That was not a statement up for debate.”

Your teeth pierce the delicate flesh of your inner cheek. “You have many other options,” you say.

“And I have decided you are one of them.”

At your lack of retort, the corner of his lips quirk. He’s dead set, and you’re not sure you have the manipulative abilities to change his mind. Still, you try.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the blood for it, as you know,” you say in a final attempt. “Noble blood mixes with that of its status.”

“Noble blood does what it wants. That’s why we have all that we have, wouldn’t you agree?” he says, and you do agree. You have to. Noble blood knows only how to take. “There is no logic to me selecting the Princess. Should I marry her, you will be brought along as her handmaid, and she will find herself alone in a cold bed while I will be keeping you warm in mine. Is that the kind of marriage you think she envisions?”

He allows the question to hang in the air, and in that time, you imagine what he’s suggesting. You imagine the Princess shunned to another room. You imagine his body on top of yours in the bed that stands behind him, his mouth attached to your neck, sucking in time with the thrusts of his cock. Against your will, you imagine how he would feel, the pleasure he would grant you over and over, and you shake your head to banish the thoughts. 

It can never happen. You know what the Princess wants. Should she become the na-Baronness, she will want him as her husband in more than name alone, alliances solidified through multiple heirs, the power dynamic rebalanced. For that to occur, his affection and a willingness to sacrifice his dominance is required. And you cannot be the thing to throw that plan into a state of turmoil. 

“If I give myself to you now, will you be satisfied?” you ask. 

His brow pinches, the expression on his face nestling somewhere between irritation and confusion. “For tonight,” he says. “But what of tomorrow night, and the night after? Am I expected to have you once and never again?”

“Anything more will put my life at risk upon my return to Kaitain. If the Emperor learns of it, it will be an embarrassment, and regardless of whether or not you choose the Princess as your wife, he will have me killed for daring to be a threat to your union,” you tell him. “And if you do choose her and I return here as her handmaid—though I suspect she will be selecting a replacement soon enough—she will kill me the second she sees anything other than disgust on your face when you look at me.”

A beat passes. The na-Baron hums. He reaches up and takes a lock of your hair, rubbing the strands together and curling them around his finger. A wave of goosebumps makes its way up your arms. 

“Then I suppose you should not return to Kaitain,” he says. 

Your head jerks back. The hair falls from his grasp. “What?”

“If your life is at risk, then you will not leave Giedi Prime. The Princess can go, but not you. The Ladies, the other handmaids, I will send them back tomorrow,” he says. He leans down, his nose mere inches from yours. His breath blankets your skin. “But not you.”

“You can’t just do that,” you whisper, but you know they’re wasted words. There’s already an overarching sense of loss on your side of the room. 

His hand returns to your face and a gasp catches in your throat as his knuckle grazes down your cheek. 

“Of course, I can,” he says. “The Houses bend to Harkonnen will. I can do whatever I want; have whatever I like.” He cups your chin and runs his thumb over your mouth, pulling down on your bottom lip before releasing it. “And what I want is you. So I will have you.”

Your pulse thrums, ears ringing. “Solely for the sake of sating carnal desire. Being your wife is not nec–”

“Carnal desire is a present concern,” he says. “But I will not have another claiming you after I have done so. What’s mine is mine. You will be my wife, and in time, we will know one another in all ways.”

The uproar. News will spread like wildfire, and you are unlikely to survive its rage. The other Great Houses will do nothing, you know, as they do not have the means or might to push against the Harkonnens, but Corrino? The Emperor? 

Surely the na-Baron is aware of the intellect of Kaitain’s leaders. He must understand that the snubbing of the Princess will undoubtedly incite retaliation from the Emperor. And you’re fairly certain in which form that retaliation will come. Where the Sardaukar's strength would fail against Harkonnen forces, their assassins’ infiltration would not.

“I’ll protect you,” he says. “If they dare, I’ll protect you.” 

You could scoff. 

Protect you. Why bother?

Surely, he doesn't want you enough to go to those lengths. You aren’t import–

Suddenly, his hand is sliding around to the back of your neck, and your face is involuntarily heating, and he's muttering a faint “come here” as he quickly draws you into a kiss.

There’s a softness to it that offsets his hardness. A gentleness in the caress. But he has caught you unprepared, cut you off at your thoughts, and the shock has you planting your palms on his chest and shoving.

His lips are parted, his chest expanding and deflating with heavy inhales and exhales. He says nothing as unexpected regret sinks into you—regret that isn’t there simply because he is the na-Baron and you are a servant who shouldn’t be bold enough to interrupt him as he’s doing as he pleases, but regret rather because for that brief moment he felt…good, and you’re overwhelmed by the sense that you’ve cheated yourself. 

You want to try it again, just to see, just to test the feeling, just to understand why you crave more. So you let the tenseness in your shoulder muscles relax. Your heavy lungs release a long-held huff of air. He watches your guard collapse at your feet. 

Slowly, he reaches for you again, but he pauses just as you are ready to feel his touch as if expecting you to flinch, to run, to hide. You do none of those things, so his fingers knit into your hair and he guides your lips back to his. 

Soft still—gentle—but then it changes to passion and greediness, and like the strike of a match, every inch of you is consumed by a flushing fire. Your heart races. Your brain fuzzes. Appendages tremble until the pleasant pressure of his lips on yours settles into your bones. 

His tongue seeks entrance and you willingly open for him. When your tastes blend, his arm sneaks past yours to lock around your waist and he jerks you forward, welding your chest to his. 

The Princess slices through the haziness in your head and you feel the intrusive instinct to end what is happening, but you can’t quite bring yourself to do it. The capability is just out of reach, and it floats further and further away with each second of him kissing you; kissing you as if trying to prove to you how right this is. And you suppose he is succeeding because the thought of stopping makes your gut twist in protest. 

Then he groans—a sound that reverberates throughout your entire body, that makes your veins pulsate and your nerves tingle—and any lingering fear of the repercussions of betrayal dissipates to a barely detectable twinge; enough to permit the removal of your restraints. 

With newfound freedom, you grip his shoulders and attempt to bring him closer than physical bounds will allow. You let your tongue play with his. You nip at his lips. You think you’ve lost your mind, maybe slipped to an alternate universe where this makes sense, but his arm clutches you tighter, anchoring you to reality. 

Well before you’re ready, he breaks apart from you, and with great difficulty, you keep yourself from chasing after his lips like a magnet drawn to its other half. 

He grins at your obvious struggle. 

“You’ll do just fine as my wife,” he says, his hand coming around to cup your cheek. His thumb strokes back and forth along your cheekbone. Another peck lands on your lips. “You might even find yourself enjoying the position…and everything I intend to offer you.”

[oneandonlybbygrl]

Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/N: Hello! Sorry guys I was protesting against the government of my country and joined the riots and almost got arrested, I'm back tho. Love you little doves.

Warnings: SMUT IS HERE! Minors get the f out. Pregnancy sex! P in V! Wrap it before you tap it folks!

Words: 4.019K

TAG LIST IS OPEN! (Let me know if i forgot to tag your or if you changed your username pls)

Chapter Thirteen

In the coronation chamber, Baron Vladimir Harkonenn was seated in his floating device, towering above his subjects, he was fuming in anger. Lady Wench’s servants’ heads on the stairs of his throne, covering the black stone stairs in blood, It looked as if the stairs were a river of black water, ‘’How could she manage to escape?!’’ he roared at his advisor who was also his right hand, the bald headed man was shaking in fear, he was a lithe man, his uniform jet black with certain colors on his left shoulder to show his rank. ‘’My Lord, Baron Vladimir,’’ he began, controlling his voice, his head low, ‘’Our Lady Na-Baroness-‘’ his speech was cut with Baron’s raspy voice, ‘’Do not dare call that bedchamber whore Na-Broness!’’ he had been ordering heads, shouting for strategic plans, he had sent a very angry letter to the Padishah Emperor Shaddam and also Duke Leto and the Reverend Mother. That old wench was the reason why Vladimir said yes to this union, he knew this little girl was a trouble and he remembered the conversation he had with Feyd-Rautha, his nephew months ago when he had a meeting at Shaddam’s study chambers, Feyd had attended few minutes later…

‘’Did I miss anything?’’ Feyd entered with a wicked smile, he had just finished dancing with Lady Y/N, it brought up his spirits to annoy her, the look on her face was something he would like to see for the rest of his life. Shaddam was sitting on a stone chair, Duke was facing Vladimir. Reverend Mother was behind the Emperor.‘’Here is my nephew.’’ He announced, ‘’He had grown up since you saw him, Duke Leto.’’ It was true, the last time Atreides family had visited Giedi Prime all of their children were little, playing and fighting together. It broke the Duke’s heart to see how much the Baron corrupted his own nephews, Rabban was gone but maybe, maybe Feyd could be saved. ‘’I highly object to this union.’’ Duke said firmly, his hands were formed into fists, he wasn’t going to sell his first born daughter like a livestock, ‘’Leto,’’ Shaddam raised his hand and draw the attention, to Shaddam, Leto was like a son he never had, he wanted Leto to understand how much he cared for this union, all eyes were on their galactic Emperor. Reverend Mother was whispering venom into his ear, or so Leto thought.

‘’This union is very important to our houses and the entire galaxy. Long ago Atreides and Harkonnen fought for centuries and shed blood. I desire to prevent this happen again. It’s time for you to unite.’’

Of course there was some truth to it but the Bene Gesserit’s only plan wasn’t this. They have been trying to create a bloodline both connected to the Atreides and Harkonnen directly. Duke hated the witches, except Jessica, she was different, Duke hoped that she would support him, it was such a shame that even though they have been together for years she was still a Bene Gesserit witch. He was soon going to find out.

One could look up and see the strange look on Feyd’s face, Baron knew that look, he was excited for his new toy but he had suspicions, she seemed too independent and disobedient. Feyd would soon to be fed up with her and toss her aside once she gives birth to the heir of house Harkonnen. That night he warned Feyd when they were alone, ‘’If you do not wish to be with her we can find someone else for you. After all, their purpose is the same.’’ Baron said, he was on his bed, smoking, Feyd was summoned late at night to speak with his uncle. ‘’No uncle, I do wish her and only her.’’ That wicked smile placed itself on his plump lips.

He had never understood why Feyd was so persistent with her.. he didn’t have time to dwell on it anyways. ‘’My nephew shall find her and bring her to justice.’’ He announced, if he had looked hard enough he would see the reluctant eyes of his subjects, little did he know that Lady Na-Baroness had gained the favor of the people of Giedi Prime.

After her session with the Reverend Mother of the Sietch Y/N retrieved to her chamber, a small space with rugs on the floor and walls, she got used to the smell of the spice, she got used to the people and the people got used to her even though she caught them staring time to time, she looked different and her head was held high all the time, it draw attention that she was a member of the Bene Gesserit and could use the voice. She meditated all night on the words and facial structure of the Mother,

‘’he is looking for his wife..’’

‘’a treachery on his part..’’

‘’Soon..’’

It must be Feyd, she was sure that her arrival was detected by his men and they must be looking for her but treachery part was confusing, she tried to channel her ancestors but it was in vain, she had to be skilled for that. She gave up the meditation because a huge sound was heard throughout the Sietch, a blasting sound and a mini second later she could hear the screams and the laser guns. Y/N immediately left her room, Fremen soldiers were gearing up, old women and children were being escorted to safety, she could see that with huge machines the walls of Sietch were being blasted, ‘’Y/N!’’ her new friend Sama screamed her name and she turned to find the source and saw Sama running towards her, she was holding a knife and a small laser gun, ‘’Here, take these. The Harkonnens are attacking us. I don’t know how they found us-‘’ another huge blast and from the giant hole a pack of  bald headed men in black uniform entered with their high-tech guns. It was them for sure. ‘’Go,’’ she said to Sama, ‘’you have duties, I can protect myself.’’ Sama was reluctant but Y/N reassured her and smiled, after Sama’s departure she joined other healers and Sayyadinas to help the children and elderly, the entire Sietch was covered in dust which was the mixture of spice and smoke, Fremen soldiers were strong and charging but the Harkonnens had more arms and outnumbered the Fremen. Y/N was in charge of helping the old Reverend Mother to safety, she ran to her bedchamber to collect her, the woman was dressed in orange satin, a yellow scarf covering her hair, ‘’Reverend Mother,’’ she yelled to be heard, ‘’you have to leave. Now.’’ The old woman calmly looked at her with spice blue eyes, ‘’You are the only one who can save us,’’ she said with a low voice, ‘’go to him. End this war.’’

Y/N understood clearly and bowed her head, she ran back to the common hall of the Sietch which was raided by the Harkonnens, she was watching from a corner and she saw her husband, Feyd-Rautha Harkonenn, he was giving orders to his men, he was covered in black but on his arm there was a scarf tied, it was hers. Her heart ache when she saw it, he must have been looking for her for weeks. She had to do something to stop the battle and the bloodshed so she came up with an idea. Y/N looked around and found a high platform, a rock that towered the common hall, it was a place where sometimes Stilgar would announce things and make his speeches. She ran towards the rock to climb it, on the way she was careful and trying to not be found and recognized, the screams of innocent Fremens filled her ears and made her climb harder, her fingers were bleeding when she reached the top and with all of her strength she yelled; ‘’STOP!’’ thanks to the Sietch’s design at this place someone’s voice could be heard clearly from everywhere inside. The Fremens and the Harkonnen soldiers stopped and looked p to find the source of the sound, Feyd-Rautha knew that voice, the smell of her pheromones brought him here and there she was, on top of a rock, her beautiful hair long and loose, they made her wear a baggy beige dress, she looked tired and sad… ‘’My wife..’’ he whispered. She was here, he had found her.  ‘’You have kidnapped my wife!’’ Feyd-Rautha screamed at Stilgar who was closer to the rock, there was a distance between them but they could see each other, Stilgar knew that this woman was a Harkonnen’s wife and his people didn’t believe him. He was right all along. ‘’Make truce and you can have your wife back Harkonnen!’’ Stilgar uncovered his mask to be heard, he was suspecting that Feyd-Rautha was going to attack and he did something which made everyone stunned, he dropped his weapon, ‘’Let her come to me and  I swear you shall have a truce.’’

Stilgar weighed him conscientiously, he also dropped his weapon to show respect, even though the man before him was a Harkonnen. The silence hung in the thick air of the Sietch, due to the fires it was extremely hot inside, Fremen and Harkonnen soldiers were alert yet immobile. Stilgar turned to look at her at the top and motioned his head, she started to climb down the rock, her hands hurt but she managed to be steady, when her bare feet made contact with the sandy floor she released the breath she was holding. Stilgar held her arm vigorously and walked towards Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.

When Feyd saw that Fremen trash’s hold he was about to get his laser gun to shoot but the look on Y/N’s face was begging him to be wise and calm. ‘’Take your wife and leave.’’ Stilgar said and stop, pushed her to Feyd and he caught her, Y/N was in his arms after so long.. she looked up to meet his azure eyes, she saw so many things there, primal fury, sadness, happiness.. they were all swimming in the deep orbits of his eyes, all he wanted to was to kiss her like a man starved but not here, not right now. Feyd looked at Stilgar who was a few inches away from them, ‘’You have your truce… for a week.’’ And without a beat he held his wife’s arm and guided her outside the Sietch.

No one dared to utter a single word on the ship back to the palace of Arrakis. Y/N sat there on the cold metal chair, Feyd in front of her, and two pilots at the front. His intense gaze was on her, she looked different, her hair was a mess, she looked dirtier and plumper and yet she was the most divine creature he had ever witnessed in his life time. His elbows on his knees, legs spread he was just staring, Y/N’s eyes found the dirty scarf tied around his bicep and then his pale face, he opened his mouth to say something and thought better and closed it. When they arrived she felt his hand on the small of her back, guiding her to the palace, she had seen the holograms of the palace before but seeing it up close was something else. One could see the traces of the Harkonnens, it was built by them 80 plus years ago and it was actually a gigantic structure yet simple. At the top it had a huge dome, she wanted to see it during the day light, maybe she could do it soon if she survived tonight…

His grip on her back tight, firm. Even though he was walking closely beside her his hand was possessive, she could feel it in her bones. The soldiers bowed as they saw her, ‘’Welcome back, Na-Baroness.’’ One of the higher ranked commander greeted her and she gently smiled, she didn’t have strength to speak, however her Bene Gesserit training was alerted, these men were actually relieved that she was here with them, maybe her policy back at Giedi Prime worked. As they walked the long stone corridors and reached to his bedchambers he unlocked the door with his thumb, the door opened and his hand gently pushed her inside and he locked the door, the inside consisted of a big bed, a door to the bathroom chamber, tall windows to see the endless desert, a spice rug at the middle of the room, not much of furniture except a leather couch and two armchairs, he pointed the couch, ‘’Sit.’’ Was the first word he said to her, his whole body tense. His chest felt tight, his fingers twitching, he wanted to take her in his arms again and check for any injuries, he had this deep desire to protect her, he came to sit across from her. Feyd had to take a sharp breath when he saw her eyes taring up but she was keeping her composure, ‘’Why did you escape Giedi Prime?’’

She exhaled, ‘’I had to..’’ she swallowed the lump in her throat, she was about to cry, ‘’I had no choice.’’ Her hand went to her stomach instinctively, his eyes following her action, ‘’Yes Feyd, I’m with child. The look on your face tells me that your uncle Baron Vladimir has been keeping it from you. He was the one who didn’t let me read the letters you had sent me for weeks, he is plotting my death after I give birth to our child.’’

His heart nearly stopped, the thought of her being with child, their child, was almost too much. Her hand on her stomach sent a wave of possessiveness, and protectiveness through him. ‘’I..’’ he began, ‘’You’re pregnant?’’ he was still in shock.  He felt sudden rush of different emotions all at once, happiness, surprise and… anger. Anger that his uncle kept them apart, that he kept her pregnancy from him, that he was planning his wife’s death. He wanted to reach out and touch her face, hold her, he had to hear you first and then he was going to love you and show you how much he had missed you. ‘’How long have you been pregnant?’’ his mind went to their last intimate moments, which was two months ago.

‘’For two months.’’ She replied.

It felt like someone punched Feyd, he clenched his jaw, this was all too much. She was pregnant with his child and he haven’t seen her for two months because of his uncle. ‘’Why didn’t you tell me-‘’ he knew there was no point in asking that but he couldn’t help it. The words just slipped out of his plump lips before he could stop them and that earned him a sudden outburst from Y/N. she bolted to her feet in anger, ‘’How was I suppose to tell you, huh? How was I suppose to let my husband know that I am pregnant with our first child when your uncle reads my correspondence and has his spies behind my tail?!’’ she was yelling at this point, ‘’I had to escape, you couldn’t take me with you because of your uncle but I came to you!’’

‘’I KNOW!’’ he nearly yelled at her, he also jumped to his feet, towering above her, he was also angry but not her, never her, he was angry at the entire situation that they were in. ‘’I know that you had to escape, I know that you came to me, I know I couldn’t take you with me!’’ he was yelling now, he took a step towards her, his chest rising and falling rapidly. ‘’Then why are you so cold towards me?!’’ her voice broke.

His hand went to his bald head, frustrated. He wasn’t cold towards her, he was on edge, he was trying to keep himself check, but her words were making him lose it. He grabbed her by the arms, his grip firm. ‘’Because I don’t know what to do! I don’t know what to do with you, with us, with my uncle’s blood plan.. I don’t know!’’

‘’He asked for my head didn’t he?’’ she was calm now, her voice as cold asa Bene Gesserit witch.

He was staring at her, his pupils blown wide, his hands still on her arms, ‘’Yes.’’ He admitted through gritted teeth, his grip even more tighter, he wanted to pull her close, to shield her from everything that was happening, ‘’He demands your head.’’

‘’What are you going to do Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen?’’ she asked coldly, ‘’It’s either your wife or your uncle.’’

His eyes hardened, ‘’I will not let him touch you.’’ He said with a harsh voice, his mind was In turmoil. Ever since he opened his eyes to this galaxy he has learned to suppress and channel emotions, yet he was a mess right now. ‘’I will not let him take you. He wants your head but he will not get it.’’ His gaze was intense, his voice now threatening.

Y/N reached and clashed her lips with his.

He was taken aback by the sudden kiss, his anger and turmoil melting into the kiss and replaced by a rush of desire and need. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her flush against him, his hands exploring her body greedily. He could feel his body ignite with a hunger for his wife, he was desperate for her touch, flesh, and taste. One of his hands moved up and entangled itself in her hair, holding her there, their mouths melded together in a heated and possessive embrace, it had been so long. She whispered between kisses, ‘’Take me to bed.’’

He immediately picked her up like she weighed nothing, took her to the bed and laid her on the mattress, his body following close behind. He knelt above her, his eyes dark with desire, he kissed her again deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth with a hunger that borders on wild desperation.    Her hands reached to take off his uniform and his breath almost stopped , he broke the kiss to help her, when he quickly got rid of his uniform he knelt to kiss her neck, bite and leave his marks on her. His large hands also helped her with her dress and she was naked under him, he took a step back to look at her, his jaw clenched again, his hands gently roamed on her soft flesh, his fingers were tracing every curve, every contour. He bent his head and placed a kiss on her shoulder, working his way down on her body with trail of hot kisses, his mouth worshiping every inch of her. He stopped when he reached her belly and looked up to meet her gaze, he felt a rush of emotions washing over him. It hit him that they were going to be parents, that she was carrying his child inside her. His heart swelled with a warm and fuzzy feeling, his fingers gently caressed her belly, almost as if he wanted to feel the baby that was growing inside her. His eyes were soft for a moment, he started to kiss her stomach again, making it emotional for her as well. Soon he went lower and lower and met her dripping core. His hands were gripping her hips, his mind was swirling with lust and need. A his mouth reached her core, he paused for a moment his breathing ragged and hot. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire, and he slowly took one of her legs over his shoulder giving himself more room to work. He slid his tongue over her slick flesh, tasting her, feeling her body shudder under his touch.

He didn’t know what has gotten into him but he just needed to drown himself in her. She moaned when he made the first contact, they had never done this before so it felt more intimate. His lips and tongue exploring her sensitive flesh, he was taking his time, wanting to savor every second. It was different than he had expected, more intimate and more pleasurable. He could feel her tremble under him, hearing her breathing change and he couldn’t help but draw out her pleasure, to make her feel good. His hands gripped her hips,  holding her in place as he swirled his tongue over her wetness, taking his time. She screamed his name ‘’Feyd!’’ as he inserted a finger, she was so wet and ready, it sent a wave of desire surging through him. He kept his mouth exploring, his tongue teasing and swirling while his finger worked inside, his mouth was hungry, his body heat getting hotter and hotter, he was losing himself in her reactions, in the sounds she was making, his own need was growing stronger and sending electricity. As he added another finger he could hear her gasps and whimpers, his mouth still on her wet folds, she tasted delicious, he was lost in her. It was so fun to watch her, she looked like a woman possessed and he was the one making her like this. ‘’Feyd,’’ she screamed, ‘’Feyd, I’m coming!’’ there was a feeling on her lower abdomen that she had never felt before, His fingers and mouth kept working, he wanted to see the way she was going to crumble, he was desperate for her to come in his mouth, he was drinking her like a man who had found a river in the middle of the desert.  She felt so soft in her mouth that he couldn’t stop himself from biting a bit, it earned him screams, soon she started to shake in pleasure, her hands gripping the bed sheets, as she came undone she screamed his name like a prayer so many times and Feyd didn’t move a muscle, he drank her sweet juice like a submissive servant, who was ready to do whatever she wanted. As she screamed his name he greedily lapped up every drop of her, not wanting to waste a single bit. His desire for her was strong, it was nothing like he experienced before with his former slaves, she was different and every since their first intimate moment he wanted no one but her. She was his, and Feyd wanted to give her more. He climbed up to kiss her, she was still shaking, he could feel her in his mouth, a sweet taste and he wanted her to taste herself so he kissed her  raw. He wanted to envelope her and become one, their bodies glued and she could feel his hard member. A moan escaped his lips, his body was tense with desire, needing her so badly. His fingers were gripping her skin as he leaned in to press his lips on her boob, sucking on the sensitive flesh, he had imagined that in a few months her tits were going to leak with milk, her belly swollen with his child and that image mad his rock hard cock twitch, his eyes were on hers as he sucked on the sensitive flesh, her boobs now more sensitive than ever. ‘’My husband..’’ she moaned and threw her head back. He couldn’t stop himself, her moans driving him wild, hearing her call him ‘’my husband’’ just set his heart racing. He moved back up to kiss her his body pressing against her body, ‘’Mine.’’ He said voice hoarse and ragged. ‘’Yours..’’ she managed to say, his mouth devouring hers, he needed her, he had to have her right in this moment so he place himself between her legs, ‘’You’re mine..’’ he took a moment to look at her under him, legs spread, such a fine delicacy and all for him. He entered her sweet folds slowly, and gave her a moment to adjust, she had forgotten how big and thick he was, it felt like the first time all over again and she gasped, ‘’Shhh’’ he knelt to kiss her cheek, her nose, her chin, he pulled out slowly and moved back in, to the hilt.

(Tumblr said the chapter is too long so i’ll continue the smut on the next one)

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[oneandonlybbygrl]

The dishwasher

Summary: His fingers are dirty…

Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x GF!Reader

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, teasing, we stan his lil belly

Square filled for @avengers-assemble-bingo “Bucky Barnes Birthday bingo event": Square 3: Staring contest

Card No: 4B009

Square filled for @buckyboybingo: Square 13: Free space

Square filled for @fandom-free-bingo: "Half-Baked Edition": Square 6: Licking lips

“Babe, I’m home. I got the plums you wanted,” you gasp, seeing your man standing in the kitchen. He’s looking a little broody today, and you wonder what’s running through his head.

Bucky holds a book in his metal hand while, to your horror, he eats the leftovers of the lasagna you made with his flesh hand. The sauce ends up on his shirt, the kitchen counter, and the floor you just mopped.

You huff. You love watching your man being comfortable enough to eat food with his hand, and even that he got a little belly now, that he has a real home—but you hate that he gets himself, his clothes, and your kitchen dirty. – Again.

He looks at the ruined shirt and the floor before taking another bite. Bucky goes back to eating while reading as you try not to be too turned on by his rugged, chiseled appearance. Damn, his perfect jawline and firm muscles.

Even with a little more belly, he looks perfect. Maybe even more handsome. The dress shirt is hugging his muscular frame in all the right places. The buttons are undone, teasing a glimpse of his chest and a dusting of dark hair.

Licking your lips, you watch him take another bite. His lips part, revealing his skilled tongue.

“Doll,” he finally says, eyes drifting toward you standing in the door frame. “I didn’t hear you coming.” It’s a lie, you know it. Bucky simply wanted you to watch him eat because he knows it turns you on.

He gives you a smoldering look, making you whine. “Buck, what the hell,” you huff, instead of giving in to the things swirling in your mind. “You are dirty!”

“I know,” he purrs and gives you an irresistible smirk. “How about you come over here, and I’ll get you dirty too?”

You glance at his hands, humming as you imagine letting him finger-fuck you again.

“No—” Your answer surprises Bucky. He furrows his brows because so far, you have never said no to him. “I know what you did with your metal hand, and your other hand is stained with lasagna.”

He chuckles at your comment. “I can wash my hands. No problem, doll.”

“Not the metal one,” you huff. “I don’t want to know if there is still some blood, dirt, or food stuck in your metal fingers. You won’t get anywhere near me with your dirty fingers, sir.”

“Sir, huh?” Bucky grins before shoving the rest of the lasagna into his mouth. “I will come back to you and her.” He dips his head to look at your crotch. “How about I carry the bags inside, and you can slip into something comfortable?”

“I won’t let you touch me with your dirty fingers,” you coo while walking past your boyfriend. You glance over your shoulder, admiring the way the dress shirt stretches across his broad shoulders. “Eat up, baby. I got dessert for you.”

“Dessert,” he hums, eyes following your every move. Bucky looks at his hands, frowning deeply. “Let’s get you clean then…”

After cleaning the floor and taking off his dirty clothes, Bucky removed his metal arm and put it into the dishwasher to get it clean, but the machine doesn’t want to work.

“Stop making a fuss,” Bucky grumbles under his breath. He glares at the dishwasher, having a little one-sided staring contest with the machine. “I want you to do your job.”

Slamming the door shut, he presses the button again, waiting for the dishwasher to do its job.

He smirks as the dishwasher finally starts to work. “I’ll be right back.”

“Buck? Baby?” You look around the kitchen. Bucky must’ve cleaned the floor and kitchen island, but the man himself is nowhere to be found. “I was joking, you know.”

Looking at the dishwasher, you sigh. Bucky must’ve forgotten to shut it off. “Alright, let’s see if he used it right this time.” You chuckle while opening the door. You slide the rack out, screaming in terror as Bucky’s metal arm lies in the rack.

“Doll? Y/N? What happened?” Bucky runs into the kitchen, looking for the source of your distress. “What’s wrong?” He searches for an intruder.

“Your arm…” You point at the dishwasher, still a little shaken. “Why is your arm in the dishwasher, Bucky? You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“You wanted me to clean my hands,” he shrugs and steps toward the dishwasher. Bucky pecks your cheek before getting the arm out of the dishwasher to put it back on.

“You’re crazy,” you giggle when he wraps his arms around your waistline to kiss your neck. It makes you happy that Bucky feels safe and comfortable enough in your shared home to take his metal arm off without thinking twice. “But I love you.”

“I love you too, baby doll.” He nuzzles your neck, sighing happily as you wrap your arms around him.

[oneandonlybbygrl]

Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/N: Hello little doves! Here with another chapter. I am having fun writing this! Thank you so much for supporting me and liking, leaving commnets. Means alot. Love u all.

Warnings: Slight mention of SA. Our babies yearning for each other especially Feyd!

Words: 2.081K

TAG LIST IS OPEN! (Let me know if i forgot to tag your or if you changed your username pls)

Chapter Twelve

Y/N woke up with a strange scent hitting her brain through her nostrils, the scent was strong, she opened her eyes but didn’t move because she didn’t know where she was and if they noticed that she was awake they might do something to her. She was on the ground, laid on a thin orange rug, it was made of spice fibers, that was the cause of the smell. She was in Arrakis and the entire planet filled with spice, and it had a strong scent. Someone must have changed her clothes because she was wearing a long dress, the color beige, it was baggy and comfortable. The inside was lit by the dim glowglobes, the color dark yellow, she noticed the coolness of the inside, she was in a Sietch.

‘’Morning Sayyadina.’’ A woman’s voice was heard, without looking Y/N already deduced that it was the same woman who captured her. Thanks to her Bene Gesserit tricks she might walk out alive because the sisterhood had spread their prophecies and religious believes throughout the entire planet.

Y/N slowly moved her body to sat, the ground under her was carved and rough, this Sietch must be thousands of years old and still changing its shape every year, maybe another thousand years it will disappear.

The woman was standing by the open space, the room didn’t have a door just a hole that was covered with a thin sheet of spice curtain, clearly handmade. She entered the room and sat opposite of Y/N.  ‘’If I had known you were with child I wouldn’t have hit you so hard.’’ She was sincere, looking at Y/N with dark blue eyes, due to spice consumption the Fremens’ eyes turn to blue. How did they know that she was pregnant? Maybe their Reverend Mother dressed her and found out. Her hand went to her head, a piece of dry blood rubbed itself on her fingers, it hurt but she didn’t make a sound, she couldn’t show any weaknesses.                                                                                                     ‘’Here.’’ The woman came with a tray of cold water and piece of bread, Y/N came up with a conclusion that if they wanted her dead she would be dead already so she took the tray and drank the water, it tasted strange but she knew it wasn’t poisoned. ‘’Thank you.’’ She said, keeping her voice calm and neutral. Y/N looked at the woman, she was one of the warriors and she had some designs on her suit that distinguished her from other warriors, her rank must be high.  ‘’Why do you call me Sayyadina?’’ she asked, curious. The woman stood up, ‘’Because you are a witch, but you haven’t completed your journey yet. Finish your bread and come with me.’’

It dawned on her, her mind immediately went to a book she had read before coming here, there was a section about Reverend Mothers of Arrakis that said; Sayyadina- Among the Fremen the Syyadina, (Friend of God in Chakobsa) is a priestess who has not yet passed within to become a Reverend Mother. When a Sayyadina undergoes the spice agony, another is then consecrated into the Sayyadina to continue the line of succession.

Did they want her to be the new Reverend Mother? For the Sisterhood, especially Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam it would be a great victory, having Y/N as Helen’s little spy and shaping the future in Arrakis. However, her main reason to be here was to be with her husband, Feyd-Rautha. She was aware of the obvious fact that Fremens hated Harkonnens and if they found out that Y/N was married to one and carrying his child… she didn’t want to think of that. She had to get out of here but she knew that alone in the desert, she didn’t stand a chance.

Y/N got up as she finished her bread and left the small room, she didn’t have any footwear but the coldness of the ground calmed her senses. Outside of the room she was kept, there was a larger space, there were holes on the walls for Fremens’ rooms to sleep, it must have been daylight because they were all inside and working. Some were training, some were sewing the warrior clothes that were damaged. They all looked at her up and down, their blue eyes screamed ‘’Stranger!’’

They were a society where their eyes talked more than their mouths. The entire Sietch was lit by glowglobs, there were few holes on the tops so sunlight coming through but thanks to the design the inside was perfectly colder than the hell outside. ‘’During the day we don’t go out, not just because of the heat, we don’t want to be seen by the enemy.’’ The woman was explaining as she walked and Y/N was following her like a toddler. She immediately knew who the enemy was, her husband and his family. ‘’At night we go out, we hunt, we attack.’’ She stopped and turned to her, ‘’I’ll teach you how to sandwalk.’’

Y/N watched some videos on it, in order to be safe and not being detected by the giant worms one must learn how to sandwalk, it was like a dance, a dance to Shai-Hulud one might argue. ‘’We learn when we’re only a child.’’ She continued explaining few stuff about her culture and the way of life here. ‘’I am taking you to our Naib. Stilgar.’’ Naib ment ‘’leader of sietch’’ she had to be cunning and manipulative as her sisters. Y/N’s hand went to her stomach and she started to pray silently; Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration…

Feyd-Rautha Harkonenn unlike his older brother Glossu ‘’Beast’’ Rabban he hadalready figured it out that the best time to explore and attack was at night. During the day the desert was a killing machine, because of Rabban they had lost so many useful men. During the day Feyd and his men had made plans on the map of the desert, his first plan was to go to the abandoned cargo ship and deduce himself, maybe he could see something that his men couldn’t and try to find the nearby Sietches, the problem was that these Sietches were hidden so carefully that one couldn’t see but had to know the secret ways to enter. The ones they had found were empty and the rumors had reached his ears, all of the Fremen tribes were getting together to attack him. He had to stop them before it happened and also he had to find his wife. His priorities were shifting and the hologram message he got from his uncle earlier today wasn’t to his liking. Baron Vladimir Harkonnen was furious, he was demanding Y/N’s head. Of course he didn’t say to Feyd that she was pregnant, if Feyd knew he wouldn’t touch her but Baron wanted her dead. He figured they could find another highborn wench for his dear nephew and they could have as many male offspring as they wished. His words ringing in Feyd’s ears; ‘’She put our family name in disgrace. If you don’t take care of her your brother will.’’

Feyd’s blood boiled as soon as he heard that sentence, his throat went dry. He remembered the night of Rabban’s disrespect towards her, Feyd knew what kind of a monster his brother was. Rabban was going to rape her first and then torture her and then kill her. Feyd punched the bathroom mirror, he would burn his entire household to the ground before he let that happen. He looked at his reflection through the broken glass, distorted just like him, she was the opposite of him. She was kind, gentle and he would kill every man on this galaxy to see her and hold her in his strong arms one last time.

As the night came with shiny starts with the moons visible on the night sky, Feyd and his soldiers mounted the ships and left the palace. Their first stop was the cargo ship which was raided by the Fremen and left to rot. ‘’Na- Baron, we have searched the entire ship and only found Lady Na-Baroness’ headscarf as you know. There is nothing here.’’ His old advisor said in a neutral tone, standing behind Feyd who had entered the ship through broken metal lids, as soon as he entered his strong animalistic senses could pick up her pheromones, just like he did with the headscarf his men brought to him but he noticed something strange. Her pheromones were more sweeter than usual, more lively..  He wondered why he was picking that scent but didn’t dwell on it. The ship was just an empty metal box, the Fremen had taken every cable every electrical device they could.

Their next stop nearby rocks and mountains, the search continued till the first light, Feyd was growing restless, he was determined to bring her back  but the first day of rescue failed miserably and his rage had met three of his servants, he put their heads on spikes for everyone to see, he announced before he entered the through the palace’s gigantic stone doors, ‘’The person who finds Lady Na-Baroness will earn enough spice to make him the emperor of this galaxy!’’ he yelled to his army who were standing immobile in the sand garden of the palace, there were only few palm trees and just orange sand. His arm saluted in the Harkonen way and screamed his name;

‘’Feyd-Rautha!’’

‘’Feyd-Rautha!’’

‘’Feyd-Rautha!’’

It had been few weeks since she arrived, the woman who captured her became her friend, Sama was a fierce warrior and also a caring person. She was giving Y/N extra food since she was pregnant. Sama had told her that the reason why she wasn’t was because that Stilgar knew she would be helpful and he was right, Y/N was healing the warriors, helping the old Reverend Mother, making healing potions and teaching it to the young Sayyadinas. She had quickly figured it out that there were no such thing as useless Fremen, the useless ones were killed, they grew up in this hard conditions and trained themselves to be selfless and be at service all the time. When she was free she was wandering in this enormous Sietch and try to eavesdrop. She was quick to learn a new language so she started to understand their daily conversations and yesterday her heart filled with hope because she heard Sama and Stilgar talking about the ‘’Harkonnens’’

Stilgar had said ‘’That boy is looking for someone, do you think it is a coincidence that we found her in the middle of the desert? Wake up Sama!’’ Stilgar had put the pieces together but apparently Sama was in denial, maybe she didn’t want to believe that her new friend was a Harkonnen’s wife…

Every night she was praying to meet him again, see him and melt into his arms. Y/N felt the ring on her finger, it was the wedding ring Feyd had given her, it belonged to her mother.. she had so many questions. Did he really killed his own mother? If he did then what was she suppose to do? She knew that nothing will be answered till she sees him in flesh and blood.

‘’Sayyadina?!’’ someone called her name, she turned to face the owner of the voice, ‘’Reverend Mother has asked your presence in her private chambers.’’ She bowed her head and followed the man, Fremen men were mostly dark skinned and dark haired, they were very muscular and always alert. The curtain was drawn, she cleared her throat and entered, the dim lights gave the room a mysterious look, there were books at every corner, potions and religious artifacts. ‘’Reverend Mother.’’ She bowed, the old woman was sitting on the ground, her entire body covered, only her face could be seen, she motioned with her hand for Y/N to come closer and she did, she sat in front of the old woman.

She was in spice trance, it was evident in her blown eyes and the smell of the spice, she held Y/N’s hand, the grip tenacious. ‘’I see you, all the time..’’ she began, her voice hoarse, ‘’he is looking for his wife… a treachery on his part.’’

Y/N was aware of the fact that too much spice consumption gave one prophecies, ‘’Soon, soon..’’ the old woman started to scream, ‘’Soon! Soon!’’ other Sayaddinas marched in and helped Y/N, the old woman’s grip left a red mark on her wrist.

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[oneandonlybbygrl]

An Heir: Part 2

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: You and Feyd intend to be together forever--marry, have children, lead Giedi Prime side by side--but your plans are disrupted when the Reverend Mother of the Bene Gesserit reveals Lady Fenring is pregnant and, to Feyd's utter shock, the baby is his.

Notes/Warnings: pregnancy

Words: 2100

Part 1

Reader POV

Composed as you can, you rush out of the room, your footsteps melding with the scraping of chair legs against the floor as Lords and Ladies rise from their seats. Through the cacophony, you can almost make out his steps—his distinct stride—but you keep going, keep pushing to reach a haven. Where you will find one, however, you have no idea. Your frantic thoughts are interfering with your once-memorized layout of the fortress.

The door thuds as it closes behind you, forcing the voices of great leaders to blend into one thick mass; gurgly and distorted as if your head has been dunked underwater. You can feel the air being sucked out of you, lungs straining for breath after breath as you hurry down a hallway.

Another thud bounces off the walls, followed by footsteps that quicken in pace. You gasp, pushing yourself to run faster, but your skirts work against you, the fabric catching under your shoes. If only you could kick the heels off, rip through the stitched seams of your dress so it may fall to the floor. But what would that do other than leave crumbs for him to find?

You meet a corner and are faced with three options: two halls with no nooks to tuck yourself into, or a door, which you hope can be locked tight from the other side. You go for the door.

Thankfully, the knob twists without resistance, but as you push open the metal slab, an arm wraps around your waist, a body presses against your back, and you’re shoved inside.

Once in the room, he releases you from his grasp and you spin around to find him locking the door; a click that seals you within your cage. Slowly, he turns to face you.

His breathing is heavy. His chest and shoulders rise and fall with each intake and release of oxygen. Blue eyes are wide, trained on the floor at your feet for what feels like an eternity before they start on a path up to your face.

The stare is agonizing, and within it a mixture of conflicting emotions that shakes you to your core. Then his gaze slides down to your abdomen. He swallows and begins to take cautious steps forward.

You’re frozen solid, a statue vulnerable to whatever he intends to do or say, and your mind runs wild with possibilities. But when all that separates your bodies is a few remaining inches of stifled air, he drops to his knees. His hands rise to rest on your stomach, and as his eyes close, he presses his forehead against the slight bump.

“How could you not tell me this?” he says.

Your throat constricts, trapping your words. You try to ignore the heat of his touch seeping through the layer of your clothes; a burn that works to melt away all barriers and leave you raw and real in front of him.

“Answer me.”

“It–” Your tongue darts out to moisten your dry lips before you attempt to choke down the grit that lines your throat. You shouldn’t say it, but it’s right there, trying to pry out of your closed mouth. “It wasn’t your business.”

Feyd’s head snaps up and he shoots you a look that you've seen many times. One that imbues his opponents with utter fear; a shock of chilled skin and chattering knees. And despite how unenjoyable it is to have that look directed at you, you stand strong against it.

“I’ll allow that to slide just this once,” he says, his voice low in warning. His eyes return to your stomach, hand grazing over the bump. “How far?”

The pause lingering in the air you struggle to admit to yourself is not because you do not wish to tell him. Not that it would matter.

Now that he's aware, concealing the truth would be wasted energy. Not to mention, the likelihood of him ceasing his interrogation is practically zero. But the truth is a hard and unrelenting devastation, and to speak it aloud only ripens the pain.

“How. Far?” he repeats.

You take a breath. “Four months,” you tell him, and Feyd’s brow pinches. His lips part. You think his eyes go glassy, as yours had when you’d learned of your condition, but he blinks before you can confirm it. “I didn’t know it,” you continue. “When I left, I didn’t know.”

You watch as each stage from denial to acceptance passes over his face. “Your parents?”

“They haven't noticed.”

“It's obvious.”

“Not to everyone else,” you say. “I hide it well; you just–”

He looks up. “I what?”

Lost nights pop into your mind, the hours spent in bed under low light where his eyes and fingers would map out your body, attending to neglected skin, loving on the marrings scattered about your flesh. If anyone were to see it—you—it’s him.

You sigh. “You know my body.”

In the beat that passes, Feyd’s adam’s apple bobs, then he stands. His thumb rubs back and forth along the curve of your stomach, and as he stares at his hand, you can see wheels spinning, the thoughts tumbling around in his head.

“I’ll kill them,” he says, and your gut instantly somersaults in rejection. “I’ll kill them both. I don’t care. She is not yet my wife, and that thing inside her is not my heir.”

“Feyd…”

“We’ll inform my uncle that you're pregnant. He will accept it, you and I will marry, and he will acknowledge our child as an heir,” he continues. “All he wants is a guaranteed continuation of our line. He'll be satisfied.” Feyd’s palms cup your cheeks and he plants a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’ll take care of it.” Then he starts toward the door.

It takes a moment for the rapid expelling of his words to process fully in your brain, but once you catch up, a swell of panic fills you. There is a baby in that woman. A child—his child—innocent of it’s mother’s actions.

You rush after him and grab onto his arm. “Feyd, stop.” You pull harder as he reaches for the knob. “Just think about what you’re–”

“No!” He shouts, spinning around so harshly that you flinch back. His eyes are pointed daggers, and your hands fall to your sides. “You left! Those witches plotted and schemed and you left!

“I—I had to leave.”

“Why!”

Feyd groans. His hand runs down his face. “I thought I’d been with you that night,” comes out gritty and harsh as his index finger and thumb press against his closed eyelids. “Until she shoved the memories into my mind, I didn’t remember so much as interacting with her, let alone being in a bed with her,” he says. His hand falls away from his face. “And you didn’t give me a chance to explain that.”

“Why?” you huff, your eyes narrowing. “Why?” He can not possibly be this daft. “Because my heart broke! Did you expect me to watch you marry another woman and father another child? I was not going to be your concubine!”

“Why would I?” you spit. “I followed you. I saw you with her. It didn’t require an explanation.”

“And knowing what she is capable of, you thought I was there by my own choice?” he snaps back.

You open your mouth for a retort, but you quickly close it as the remnants of his voice echo around the room. Your eyes are glued to his, but once his voice fades, you’re the one to break the stare-off. Your head dips, gaze dropping to your feet.

Time passes in silence. Then, in the edges of your vision, you see his tense shoulders relax and his clenched fists slowly release.

“You really thought I wanted it,” he says, and it’s a little blade piercing your heart.

Despite how poorly you’ve hid your emotions, you hate that he has so easily cracked you. That your mind is exposed for his exploration. That he can now probably see every painful image that has entered your mind from the moment you saw him follow Lady Fenring into that room.

You sigh and your head raises. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. What matters is what is,” you tell him. “And what she is, is pregnant. The Harkonnen line is secured by another.”

“I don’t want her child. I want ours.”

“Feyd, we are too late.”

“No,” he counters, shaking his head. “I am not losing you twice. I refuse to. You became pregnant before her. You will give birth before her. Our child will be my rightful heir.”

“A Bene Gesserit child will be seen as more valuable than–”

Feyd reaches for you. His hands cup your face again, and his lips meet yours, and as much as you know you shouldn’t allow this, you can’t push him away. It feels too good. Too right. You missed him too much.

Your protective walls crumble so you can take it all in. His taste, which has always been like a drug, pours into your mouth. A warm sensation passes through your veins. Addictive. Pleasing to your brain and nerves. And who cuts themselves off in the middle of a high?

His hands slide into your hair and he holds your head steady as his mouth ravages yours, as his tongue licks yours, as his nose brushes against yours. But then he pulls away.

“Stop this,” he whispers in the hairs-width of space between your lips and his. “You’re staying with me, where you and our baby will be safe. You will marry me. We will have our child,” he says. “I will set this right.”

Your bottom lip quivers, sudden tears surfacing but unshed. “How?

“However I have to.”

—

The Reverend Mother has always been a force—a stony figure; a formidable structure in bodily form—but as she sits across from where Margot stands, her presence has never been more overwhelming, and Margot, who is not one to shrink in front of power, has never felt more squeamish.

“It has been months.” The Reverend Mother’s voice fills the space, her gaze as unbendable as tungsten. “You should be with child by now.”

Lady Fenring bows her head. “Forgive me, Reverend Mother.”

“We can only disguise your lack of progression for so long.”

They’re words Margot has heard many times over the months. However, as the days have tallied, the urgency and threat behind those words has increased. With each visit from the Reverend Mother, her frustration has become more palpable.

“I am aware,” Margot says, “But he grows stronger.”

“Stronger!” the older woman’s voice booms within the cone of silence. “Stronger how?

While not unheard of throughout the millennia, stronger is not a common concern for a Bene Gesserit. Rare can a man’s—or anyone’s—conscious curb the Voice, and Lady Fenring had assured the Reverend Mother of the task's simplicity. After coaxing Feyd-Rautha into her bed on the night of his birthday, she was certain of her success, only to be met with the troubling discovery of her failure. His seed had not implanted within her womb.

At the time, she could not make sense of it. But as she continued to observe him, clarity struck her.

Some part of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen fought back that night. His body had rejected her, and it continues to do so, her capabilities becoming less and less influential with each wasted attempt to seduce him.

“His anger—it aids him in resisting my Voice,” Margot reveals. “And if he cannot hear me, he refuses to touch me.”

The Reverend Mother’s brows dip. Her lips purse in consideration. “He has always been an angry boy. What anger could be potent enough to resist the Voice?”

"He..." Margot swallows hard, “He yearns for her,” she says. “She occupies his mind. There is no room for me.”

The Reverend Mother releases a scoff. “Impossible.”

“We’ve heard of such instances before.”

“And yet, they always break in the end.”

Lady Fenring lightly shakes her head as she recalls her many failed attempts. “I fear he will not,” she counters. “She is here. She arrived with her House this morning. He won’t let her go now.”

The Reverend Mother’s spine straightens in her chair. Her hands clasp the ends of the armrests—a sign of displeasure, not often displayed by a woman of such practiced composure. Margot all but shrinks under her glare.

“Then remove her.”