#A Planet To Conquer Fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sansaorgana · 15 days

Text

— FORBIDDEN FRUIT

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Baron Vladimir Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — After your planet was conquered by The Harkonnens, you are sent to Giedi Prime as a war prize to marry one of The Baron's nephews. However, Baron Vladimir changes his plans at the sight of you and decides to take you as his wife. Feyd-Rautha does not give up easily, though.

REQUEST — (1) // (2)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It's finally here! I got carried away, not gonna lie... Look at the word count! 🙈 I might have forgotten about some warnings, just keep in mind the fic is dark and twisted 😝 By creating the Reader's homeworld and its customs I was loosely inspired by the mediterranean and islamic cultures but of course her physical appearance is not being described. 🤍

WARNINGS — arranged/forced marriage, blood, death, Baron Harkonnen being an absolute and non-consensual creep, Feyd-Rautha being non-consensual as well in the beginning, SMUT, fingering, oral, breeding (artificial and natural), incest undertones (they're not related but he calls her Aunt and she calls him nephew) + Feyd's traumatic past briefly mentioned, Reader is a few years older than Feyd but he is aged up to 20

WORD COUNT — 13,560 (🤡)

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Your homeworld used to be a Paradise. The sky was always blue, the weather warm but not too hot due to the light breeze coming from the Ocean. Cypress trees, pistachio nuts, olive branches and fish were what Pairi Daêza was famous for in the past centuries. It was a small planet that remained unnoticed and neutral in most of the conflicts. The Imperial Family loved to spend their holidays on Pairi Daêza and import their goods in a form of a tribute.

That was history. And although you were born on this beautiful planet, in your teenage years the whole world crumbled down and you were exposed to the true reality of the war. When one of the Imperial geologists had found a huge spice deposit under your planet’s Ocean, the destructive war began.

Your parents tried their best to avoid the conflict. They offered the Emperor to dry a huge part of the Ocean to harvest spice from there. In fact, your father the Sultan saw an opportunity of getting wealth and influence in this situation. And that probably was his downfall. The Emperor wanted all the spice for himself.

But The Emperor was not the one to get his hands dirty. No, he hired the most fearsome warriors and assassins to teach your planet a lesson. The Harkonnens.

While the battles were taking place on the ground, their special machinery was drying out the Ocean and harvesting the spice hidden underneath the water surface. The whole planet began to die off due to the lack of water. The crops were evaporating in the heat, people were starving and their homes destroyed. The Harkonnens were kidnapping your citizens to be their slaves and your father and his army were too weak to protect them. The subjects of the Sultan started a rebellion with the help of The Harkonnens and after long years of the ongoing and destructive war, it was the final blow for your father’s weak reign.

You were an adult woman now, standing proudly with a veil covering nearly your whole face with only eyes being on display like all unmarried women of Pairi Daêza traditionally wore. Surrounded from all sides by The Harkonnen army in your father’s throne room, holding your mother’s hand. The dignified and beautiful Sultana with the last piece of jewellery she had refused to give away – a majestic headpiece made of gold and sparkling gemstones of all the possible colours. They reflected the dim light creeping inside through the windows of the ruined Pairi Daêza Palace where you had been born and resided for your whole life. And where you would die with only a few the most loyal guards protecting you.

The front doors opened loudly and a huge, beastly looking Harkonnen man stormed inside with a few of his identical soldiers. You had heard of him, he was the terror of Pairi Daêza in the past few years. The Beast Rabban himself. He dealt with your guards completely on his own, feasting on their deaths with a psychotic smirk. You swallowed thickly at the size of his hands; so big and strong they could break you in half. You hoped for a swift and quick death – as a Shehzadi of Pairi Daêza you had your privileges and you counted that the mercy of Beast Rabban would be one of them.

He started to approach you confidently, his black armour stained with the blood of your guards, contrasting with his sickly pale skin. Your father stepped out to cover you and your mother with his own body as if it would stop the Beast. Rabban froze at the sight and let out a contemptuous laughter that echoed through the throne room.

“Your reign is over, Sultan (Y/L/N),” he announced. “Pairi Daêza and its spice is under The Harkonnen rule.”

“Pairi Daêza no longer exists. You have destroyed my world and you want to rule over the ruins,” your father drawled through the gritted teeth.

“We do not care about your world. We care about the spice. But you… You will be remembered as the Sultan whose reign was the last. The death of your world will forever be attached to your name,” Rabban pointed out and reached for his blade. “Come to me and fight like a man, I shall give you the privilege of defending yourself. Do not cling to the skirts of your wife and daughter. By doing so, you put them in the path of my blade.”

“Don’t hurt them,” your father approached him, despite your hands trying to stop him. “The planet and the spice are yours. You can kill me but spare my family,” he pleaded.

“Your wife will be given to the new Governor of Pairi Daêza and he will do as he pleases with her. Your daughter is our prize I will take with me to Giedi Prime,” Rabban laid his terrifying eyes on you and you froze out of fear. You’d rather die than be taken away to The Harkonnens. He could only see your eyes but it was enough for him to smirk and lick his lips in a disgusting manner.

This scenario was worse than the death you had been expecting.

“You will die,” he told your father and pointed at one of the deceased guards for your father to take his sword and be able to defend himself in a fair fight.

But you knew already it would be a slaughter you did not wish to see.

“Don’t kill him! Don’t kill my father!” You screamed and took a step ahead. Your mother sobbed behind your back.

“(Y/N), don’t…” your father shook his head.

“I will offer myself to you willingly if you spare his life and let him govern this planet in The Harkonnen name. He will obey your orders and so will I,” you promised.

It was common for parents to sacrifice themselves for their children. No one would ever question such an act. Why couldn’t it go both ways? You loved your parents just as much as they loved you. Especially in the last years of the war, you had grown very close having basically no one else by your side.

If you were all to die together, it was not a bad ending. But if they tried to kill your father, send you away and give your mother away to a stranger… you could not let that happen.

“What makes you think we care about women giving themselves to us willingly, Shehzadi?” Rabban snorted at you but he approached you slowly with his blade held up. “You’re confident to offer so little for wanting so much in return,” the tip of his blade lifting up the hem of your face veil as you trembled out of fear.

“There is no need for bloodshed. My father will bend his knee and I will go with you, my Lord,” you choked out, trying to hide your obvious fear.

Rabban tilted his head and laughed at you. Then, in one swift move he cut the veil open and you gasped as the fabric fell down on the floor, leaving you exposed in front of him and his Harkonnen soldiers. It was one of the greatest humiliations for the Pairi Daêza woman for her to reveal her face in front of a man outside her close family before her wedding. It was her husband who was supposed to lift the veil off of her face on their wedding day and see her first before every other man would. To take the veil off of an unmarried woman in an aggressive manner like this was the greatest disrespect that back in the day men had been punished for by the law.

Embarrassed and humbled down, you stood still, trying to stare back at the Beast Rabban with your shoulders straight and your lips pursed out of anger and determination.

“You are not mine for the taking. I am to take you to Giedi Prime and my uncle shall decide what to do with you. Most likely he will want you to be my younger brother’s bride because it is him who will inherit the title one day,” he told you and you felt a knot forming in your stomach.

You hated Rabban but he was the devil you knew from the stories and now personally as well. His brother was a new character in the story that you feared. What was he like?

“Why is that not you?” You asked him. “You have just conquered a planet for your uncle, have you not, my Lord?”

“It is not I who argues with my uncle’s decisions,” Rabban snapped at you but you saw in his cruel eyes that you had touched a sensitive subject with your question. “Will you bend your knee, Sultan (Y/L/N)?” He asked your father.

He was staring at you with a terrified expression on his face. He couldn’t believe what you had just done. But you knew he wouldn’t throw a fist now. He would bend his knee because your father was a weak man.

Deep down, despite your love for him, you hated him for his weakness. Most of your problems, most of the failures in this war were caused by this trait of his. You couldn’t blame him, though. The Sultans of Pairi Daêza had never been trained to fight or lead military campaigns. There had been no need for that in the past.

“I, Sultan (Y/F/N) of The House (Y/L/N), pledge my allegiance to The House Harkonnen,” your father kneeled and bowed his head down.

You watched Rabban closely. He could accept this offer but he could also simply behead your father.

“In the name of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, may your service be accepted, Sultan (Y/L/N),” he nodded his head. “We didn’t know who to make the Governor of this wasteland anyway,” he snorted. “I guess this is solved. However, you will be watched carefully,” he squinted his eyes at your father. “I will leave my guards here and you will be spied on every second of your pathetic life, Sultan.”

“Yes, my Lord,” your father nodded. “What about the rebellion you helped to start? The citizens of Pairi Daêza do not wish me to stay in this Palace anymore.”

“You have my army to command now. You can slay them,” Rabban shrugged his arms and your father stood up clumsily.

“You helped them to start the rebellion against me and now you’re giving me your army to slay the rebels?” He asked to make sure.

“All we care about is your spice,” Rabban’s voice sounded casual and then he turned around to look at you again. “And your daughter,” he added with a smirk before approaching you and grabbing you by your arm roughly. You squealed as he started to walk you out of the room.

“Let me go!” You protested.

“You’re already breaking our arrangement, woman. You promised to be obedient,” he barked at you.

“I want to say goodbye to my parents,” you told him.

“It’s not the last time you’re seeing them. That is, if they play nice and don’t start anything,” he threatened as he looked at your scared parents.

Your mother risked it, though, and she ran up to you. Her shaking hands grabbed yours as she sobbed. She couldn’t say much because of her state but she didn’t have to.

“I will be fine, mama. I will survive and you have to as well, do you hear me? Otherwise my sacrifice won’t matter,” you told her and she nodded her head, silently choking on her sobs.

“That’s enough,” Rabban threw you over his shoulder swiftly like you were a sack of potatoes and he took you out of the Palace – straight to the huge Harkonnen ship that was destined to go back on Giedi Prime.

You were a war prize.

You didn’t know much about Giedi Prime except for scary legends and myths. The heavy industrial landscape was something you had not been used to nor was their black sun that was making everything on the planet black-and-white when you were spending time outside. Not that you had spent lots of time there. You were transported from the ship to the huge black fortress and into the chambers with a few female servants waiting for you. They bathed you carefully and put you in long black robes with a veil mimicking the ones that were traditional for the Pairi Daêza unmarried women. Only your eyes were visible when you looked at yourself in the mirror, but barely – the veil was decorated with dangling silver chains. They were making you look even more mysterious and kind of dangerous but the whole outfit felt like a mockery of the traditional robes of your people.

The unmarried women of Pairi Daêza were hiding their faces but their dresses were often made of a few layers of sheer and colourful materials. Just because they were under a cover, didn’t mean they were not cheerful and full of life. The dresses would be often decorated with lace, flowers or embroidery. They were flowy and ethereal when the women walked down the streets and all the married women who no longer had to hide their faces were envious as they remembered their younger days. On Giedi Prime you looked as if you were in a deep state of mourning. But perhaps you were. Your planet was destroyed, your family humiliated. And no one knew what would happen to you.

You were taken by the guards and followed by the servants to a huge throne room of The Baron Harkonnen. You had heard of him from your father so you expected the worst but his unnaturally huge and floating form still made the blood in your veins run cold. He was enormous and repulsing; sickly. Kept alive by the machinery behind him and the undying will to rule forever.

He was accompanied by Rabban who smirked at you when you walked inside. There was another man standing there, too. He was young; strong and muscular but also slim. Tall and proud in the way he stood. His face was full of cruelty and mockery but you had to admit he was rather attractive… at least for a Harkonnen male. His lips were full, his eyes reminded you of a snake but they were decorated with a long set of eyelashes. You hoped he was the younger brother that Beast Rabban had mentioned before.

You stood in front of the stairs leading to The Baron’s throne and you bowed down, waiting for his reaction.

“Shehzadi (Y/L/N),” he greeted you in a harsh, deep voice that sent shivers down your spine. “Finally I get to see you… Or not,” he added and you raised your head to lay your eyes on him. He was observing you carefully and so was the young man. “Take her veil off, Rabban, show me what you’ve brought here,” he snapped at his nephew and the Beast approached you. “She better be pretty enough for Feyd-Rautha if you decided to spare her father’s life for her,” The Baron teased him.

“Who would have thought that women were your weakness,” the man named Feyd hissed at his brother and you got startled by the sound of his voice. It was identical to The Baron’s in a twisted and uncomfortable way that formed a knot in your stomach.

You felt oddly bad for the Beast Rabban. He was the one to conquer your planet and he was the one to take you. Yet, you were a prize that he had won not for himself but for his spoiled younger brother. You couldn’t quite understand the dynamic of this family yet.

He stood next to you and grabbed the fabric of your veil in his fist in his usual brutal manner. By the pace of his breath, you could hear that he was as nervous as you were. If The Baron would not like you, he would be punished for going soft on your father.

Rabban’s hand hesitated before tearing the veil off of your face. It caught his younger brother’s attention. He hissed and walked up to you with a short knife in his hands that he had been playing with as if out of boredom. He smirked at you and revealed black teeth that made you flinch at the sight. Your reaction only excited him.

“How long do I have to wait, brother?” He asked as he cut the veil open, impatiently. Rabban took a step back and allowed his brother to take a better look at you. The Baron tried to peek in but Feyd was standing right in front of you and covering your face completely from his uncle’s sight.

The young man hummed to himself and tilted his head both sides. He raised his hand up and grabbed your chin to squeeze it gently.

“How old is she?” He asked his brother as if you could not speak.

“Shehzadi (Y/N) is twenty years old like you are,” Rabban tried to recommend your virtues the best he could, like he was a slave seller.

“Five and twenty,” you corrected him confidently, not feeling any shame about your age. Rabban took a sharp breath in as Feyd gave him a scolding look.

“A bit old, isn’t it?” The Baron’s voice interrupted them.

Feyd looked you up and down with so much fire in his eyes that you started to feel your cheeks heating up. You had never been looked at this way not only because of the custom of covering your face but also because it was not a way that men on Pairi Daêza would court women in.

“I’ll take her,” Feyd shrugged his arms as he announced to his uncle. He turned around to look at him and you sighed out of relief. So did Rabban.

“Move aside, Feyd,” The Baron barked at his nephew, impatiently. “It is I who decide,” he added and Feyd took a step to the left, revealing your form to his uncle. You had both of the brothers standing on both sides and their hideous uncle looming over a few steps ahead of you.

In complete silence he was watching you for a long while, puffing on his pipe. Finally, he beckoned you over to come closer. You gathered the fabric of your skirt in your hands and took a few steps ahead with your heart pounding in your chest.

“I shall take her,” he stated as the whole room went dead silent.

“What are you talking about?!” Feyd protested and you chewed on the insides of your cheeks, trying not to burst into tears. “She is mine for the taking!”

The Baron was a disgusting creature but you were aware that being his wife would give you more power and influence than marrying any of his nephews. It would protect your family better, too.

And every power came with a sacrifice.

Still, your dignity wanted to join Feyd-Rautha’s tantrum. You had been expecting to be given in marriage to a young and healthy warrior. Not an old and sickly piece of greasy meat in front of you.

“Shut up, boy!” The Baron yelled at Feyd and you flinched. “Don’t startle, my Shehzadi,” he cooed to you in a malicious whisper. “As you can see, none of my nephews are worthy of you nor my throne one day. You shall give me an heir,” he told you and you nodded, obediently. Fighting him had no purpose.

Feyd was furious. You heard him walking out of the room angrily and slamming the door behind him.

“You have just made an enemy, my Shehzadi,” The Baron reached his swollen pale hand with the green and blue veins popping out. You gently took it and nearly gagged at the feeling of it.

“Me, my Lord?” You tried to bat your eyelashes at him. Your voice shivered out of fear and he smirked at you.

“Feyd-Rautha will no longer be the Na-Baron when our son is born. He will do everything to get rid of you and the child. You shall be careful, sweet Shehzadi,” he warned you. “I have my ways of keeping him obedient. When he’s not showing you proper respect, you will tell me, yes?”

“Y-yes, my Lord,” you nodded.

“Good,” he squeezed our hand gently and you felt your stomach turning. “Go, prepare for the wedding,” he let go of you and raised his finger to touch your cheek. It was getting difficult to hide your repulsion but on the other hand it was oddly satisfying to know that you were chosen by The Baron himself.

You bowed down and walked out of the room with the guards and servants. They all were staring at you with widened eyes, as shocked with the outcome of this day as you were.

You hadn’t seen The Baron for the past few weeks of the preparations for the wedding. In fact, you hadn't seen anyone. You had been kept a prisoner in one part of the fortress but you did not mind that at all because you had lots of servants and your chambers did not lack any luxury. The only thing you missed was nature – the greenery, the sound of birds, the feeling of the sun on your skin, the light breeze of the Ocean. But there was no way of coming back to it. Pairi Daêza had none of it anymore.

Spoiled as a child, you were harshened in your teenage years by the war taking place in your homeland. Despite your father’s weakness flowing in your blood, you had learnt how to adapt and survive. You would survive just well on Giedi Prime, you decided.

The only thing you dreaded about your marriage was the physical aspect of the union. However, you had been informed by the medic visiting you every morning about the nature of your future duties.

“These injections are supposed to prepare your body for carrying a son,” he told you after sticking a syringe with an odd liquid into your vein. “After the wedding you will be bred to carry The Baron’s heir, my Lady.”

“Bred?” You swallowed thickly.

“I will insert the seed during a swift and painless procedure, my Lady,” he assured you.

“So… I will not be…” You didn’t know how to say it without offending The Baron.

The medic knew, though. He looked up into your eyes as your face was covered with the black veil. The Baron had liked your homeworld’s tradition and allowed you to cover your face until the wedding.

“The Baron’s health does not allow such activities,” he informed you and you sighed out of relief. “Which does not mean he will not demand some… other duties.”

You nodded your head at him. Some other duties, whatever they meant, you could survive. It was the haunting image of him hovering over you or taking you from behind that was keeping you sleepless recently. You had come to Giedi Prime completely innocent in that subject but you made your Harkonnen servants tell you all about it. They were experienced, especially the ones who had been called late at night to Feyd-Rautha’s chambers. The young na-baron apparently liked sex a lot. The more you were finding out about him and his nature, the more glad you were that it was his uncle you were marrying. At least he was not so young; not so full of adrenaline and testosterone as his nephew.

Giedi Prime had not had a Baroness in a long time. The ceremony was about to be the grandest you had ever experienced. The leaders of the great houses had been invited – your parents amongst them. Even The Emperor himself had sent an envoy to take part in the event in his name. You had never expected to hold such importance in the Galaxy. After all, you were only a Shehzadi of a small and unimportant Pairi Daêza. The spice deposit had truly changed everything.

Your servant women worked on your huge wedding dress. It was black, too, of course. Everything was black. But there was some meaning behind it, in fact, since the wedding was an occasion to mourn your maidenhood and your previous life. The veil covering your face was decorated and attached to the upper part of your bodice, so when your face would be revealed and the veil taken off, your dress would stop being so modest and show off your breasts squeezed by a corset. You didn’t feel comfortable with that idea. Women on Pairi Daêza were not known for revealing their physical virtues in such a way. But Harkonnen women were their husbands’ prizes and trophies. You wanted to make The Baron proud because it would keep him happy. And keeping him happy meant the safety of you and your family. You didn’t want to play many games. You just wanted to survive.

You actually wanted to give him a son. Because giving him a son would seal your fate as The Baroness. Your position would be untouchable and that awful Feyd-Rautha could throw tantrums about it but it would be your son who would inherit the title of The Baron.

You were allowed to see your parents before the ceremony because they were supposed to leave early in the morning on the next day and in the evening there would be no occasion to be left alone with them like you were now. Alone in a room with your mother and father whose faces looked worried and exhausted. Their clothes were different than you remembered. Less colourful as if they were grieving, too.

“Are you alright?” Your mother asked you. She approached you and tried to lift the veil off but it refused to move.

“It is attached to the dress. I am fine,” you assured her. “Do not worry, my face is not bruised. You will see when he takes it off,” you nodded.

“It is an honour for you to marry The Baron himself,” your father smiled at you gently. “A great honour that he has liked you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” your mother scolded him. “It is awful, awful news. You know what he’s like. He’s destroyed our planet!”

“She can handle that for all the power she’s going to have now,” he shrugged his arms.

“How easy it is to say for a man,” your mother sighed. “You owe her your life.”

“I do and I am grateful,” your father nodded his head at you.

“And yet you demand more,” you whispered to him. He froze. “You demand of me to keep The Baron happy so he doesn’t get rid of you. But that is your part of the deal. You shall obey him and play nice as you promised. As long as you do that, there is no threat and my protection is not required.”

“If you think this way, why are you here, all dressed up to get married?” He raised his eyebrow.

“For mother,” you held her hands gently, “because you will not be able to protect her like me,” you added sternly.

Your father looked away, frustrated. He wanted to snap at you but he could not. Not when you were The Baron’s bride. You were no longer his daughter but almost another man’s wife. And the man was too powerful to disrespect.

The ownership of women. Once your father’s, then your husband’s. Freedom would come only in the case of a man’s death. And yet, men wondered why so many women were so angry and bloodthirsty.

“Time’s up,” one of the guards entered the room harshly. “Shehzadi (Y/N) is asked to attend the ceremony,” he announced and nodded at you. You nodded back and squeezed your mother’s hands for the last time before following the guard into the dark and cold corridor of the fortress, trying to keep your veiled head high.

Out of the people gathered for the ceremony, one pair of eyes was locked on you the most intensely. The dark eyes of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen were observing your every move, every gesture, every breath and every word. You felt suffocated by his gaze. It was full of fire like the first time he had seen you but also full of hatred and contempt. You couldn’t tell if he wanted to claim you or kill you. Perhaps both answers were true. You wouldn’t be surprised after hearing all the stories about him.

You feared him the most out of all The Harkonnens. Beast Rabban was the devil you knew and you were his weakness because you were the prize he had conquered himself. The Baron was terrifying and dangerous but he was rather calm and he treated you like a pet so as long as you were quiet and obedient, he did not take pleasure in tormenting you. Feyd-Rautha was different. He was psychotic and your wedding to his uncle was making him lose the greatest deal – his inheritance.

The worst part of the wedding ceremony was the kiss. Not that The Baron had been particularly passionate about it but something about his lips touching yours – even though briefly – was making your insides twist. Perhaps being married to him wouldn’t be as easy to survive as you had been hoping.

When The Wedding Games had begun, Feyd-Rautha joined them eagerly with all the fierceness a warrior could possess. It was an old and dreadful tradition full of blood and violence, a display of power and murderous Harkonnen nature. The men, usually gladiators, were fighting for life and death. Only one could remain and become the winner who would be forever remembered. When his nephew joined the fight, your new husband didn’t look very pleased and he followed every movement of his boy carefully, keeping his eye on the guard, too. He was scared of losing his heir after all.

You watched Feyd-Rautha fight as well. His moves were swift and confident. It was bringing him joy to both hurt and be hurt. He was playful in combat – smirking, winking, occasionally looking back to make sure you were watching. And whenever he was the one to take the blow, he would let out a laugh and hiss in pleasure. He was an odd, scary creature because he had no fear of any sort of pain. Not even death most likely.

Eventually, he killed the last opponent right in front of your eyes, wanting for you to flinch, you suspected. You did not give him such satisfaction. All the years of the war on your planet had made you immune to the sight of such violence and death.

He let out a triumphant yell and raised the bloody knife before bowing down and reaching his hands out with the blade towards you. You stood up and accepted his offering as you had been taught by your servants the past few weeks during your preparations.

“Thy display of power and bravery has been noticed, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you told him the words you had learnt by heart.

“For my Baroness I will shed the blood of my enemies,” he looked up intensely at you and you swallowed thickly. You hated when he was staring like this. You only nodded and turned around to hand the bloody blade to one of the guards who would secure it. The blade would later be on display in the Memory Room.

You sat back down and forced a small meal upon yourself. In the meantime, your husband had already left the party. Not that you minded.

Feyd and Rabban were sitting nearby. Both were staring at you but the older one actually looked as if he was sorry for you. He hadn’t spoken a word to you ever since his uncle had decided to be the one to marry you. It was nearly funny how back on Pairi Daêza everyone feared the Beast Rabban but here on Giedi Prime he was the least important pawn of the game.

Around midnight, one of The Baron’s servants leaned in to whisper into your ear to inform you that your husband had been waiting for you in his chambers. You swallowed thickly and nodded your head before standing up and leaving the dining room as fast as possible.

In the dark corridor you slowed down, though, not wanting to walk too fast and approach the dreaded room too soon. The guards were not following you but you knew the way, you had been taught it by your servants even though your chambers were in a different part of the fortress. Now, as The Baroness, you would get the new ones – even more splendid and luxurious. But you had been told you would not share them with your husband which was a great comfort.

Halfway there you heard footsteps behind you and you angered. Whatever humiliation was there to come, you did not want any witnesses. The corridor was dark and empty and yet some guard decided to follow you. You turned around furiously, ready to scold him. But it was no guard. It was Feyd-Rautha.

He leaned on the wall with a smirk and squinted his eyes at you.

“What do you want?” You asked him and clenched your jaw.

“Like a sheep for slaughter,” he snorted at you.

“That is none of your business, I believe,” you straightened yourself and raised your chin up.

He didn’t like your remark as he moved away from the wall and approached you quickly. In no time you felt his face looming over yours, mere inches away.

“I know what he’s going to do to you,” he whispered as you tried to remain cool but his words made you terrified. There was an odd sparkle in his eye, like he was enjoying your torment. He probably was.

“Fuck me?” You tried to pretend it didn’t bother you.

“Well, well, well, look at how dirty your mouth can be, Shehzadi,” Feyd-Rautha grabbed your cheeks to squeeze them and your eyes widened at his insolence.

“To you, I’m The Baroness,” you mumbled out.

“Sure you are, little snake. How else should I call you? An aunt?” He teased. “I shall,” he added. “No, he’s not going to fuck you. But he’s going to touch you and this reeking, slimy feeling won’t ever leave your skin. You will feel him always,” he moved even closer to you. You wondered how he could know such things. Then you felt how hard he was underneath his leather pants. You were scared he would hurt you now, which would make your husband furious and toss you aside, surely.

“Sounds like you’d like to watch,” you drawled, regretting it instantly. He took a sharp breath in and pushed you against the wall, still holding your cheeks but now you were trapped between his body and the cold marble.

“Don’t be disgusting,” he warned you. It was surprising there were things he was finding gross. He didn’t look like the type. “You’ve no idea what’s waiting for you, aunt,” he hissed.

“Aw, you’re worried?” You cooed and he let go of your cheeks angrily. He remained close to you, though. You felt his hot breath on your face. He smelled like blood and leather.

Feyd’s hands dropped to your waist. Before you could stop him, he was pulling up all the layers of your dress, desperately trying to get the access between your legs. You grabbed his wrists, trying to stop him quietly.

“No, no, no, please, no,” you whispered in a panic. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, aunt. He’s going to do it,” Feyd snorted at your words and froze when all the layers of your dress that had been on the way were finally moved aside. A cold shiver went down your legs at the feeling of your exposed thighs. Feyd cupped your womanhood covered with black silky underwear. You gasped at the feeling as your eyes widened when you looked at his face. His lips curled into a smirk as you shook your head.

“Relax, Baroness, I’ll ease you for him,” he told you as his fingers hooked on the edge of your underwear. You felt his cold fingertips brushing your pussy softly and a set of shivers went down your spine at that sensation.

You didn’t know how to feel about it. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you were getting dizzy. Your mind wanted him to stop but your body did not. Despite the lack of experience, you knew that The Baron would not make you feel the same way as his young nephew would.

“I won’t fuck you,” he let out a raspy whisper, “he would kill us both for that.”

“He wouldn’t know,” you told him and Feyd tilted his head at you. “I’ve been examined by the medic this morning to prove my innocence. I doubt he will examine me now again.”

“Believe me, he would know,” Feyd let out a laugh as he moved your underwear aside and exposed your womanhood. It was too dark for you to feel ashamed of it but it still felt incredibly wrong. Yet, you didn’t ask him to stop. Not that it would change anything.

He raised his hand up to his full lips and licked them while staring deep into your widened eyes. Then he put his hand between your legs again and began to touch you in your most intimate place. You sighed at the feeling of his wet and cold fingers trying to get between your folds.

“Open your legs further,” he ordered and your body obeyed by moving the legs more apart before your mind could take over and make a responsible decision to run away. Not that you could run away because with his free hand he grabbed one of your wrists and pinned it to the wall above your head.

Once he got a better access to your pussy, Feyd focused on massaging your sweet spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head, occasionally dipping his finger carefully inside of you to gather some of your wetness. You moaned softly and dug your fingernails into his bicep, feeling a close release. He was smirking at how fast he could make you reach your high but you didn’t care. You hated him but his fingers were skilled, making you stand on your toes as the muscles of your abdomen tensed, desperately wanting more friction.

“I’m gonna…” You gasped and that was when he took his hand away, fixed your underwear and took a step back, letting the folds of your dress fall down to their place. It took you a moment to collect yourself and realise that he had left you without a release but with a deep and urgent need. “What was that?” You asked.

“Now it won’t hurt when my uncle does the same to you, aunt. Maybe you’ll even cum with his fingers inside you as you remember my fingers on your cunt,” Feyd chuckled contemptuously and licked his fingers clean as you watched with terror in your eyes. “Sweet. Like I’ve imagined a cunt from Paradise to be,” he commented and turned around to walk back to the party, leaving you breathless and dizzy with an ache between your legs.

For a while you forgot where to go. You kept taking wrong turns before finally approaching the doors leading to The Baron’s chambers. At your state you weren’t even scared anymore. Feyd-Rautha had eased your mind indeed and reduced your body functions to one primal need.

You pushed the door open softly and entered your husband’s chambers. They were nearly empty and very cold. In the middle of it, there was a big bathtub full of a black substance. He was bathing in it and puffing on his pipe as he squinted his eyes at you.

“What took you so long, Baroness?” He asked and you cleared your throat, trying not to sound too shook up. The sight of him in that bathtub made your desire much lesser, though. Even the memory of Feyd-Rautha’s cold fingertips brushing your clit lightly and teasing you with pleasure could not make you feel the same excitement again.

“I’m sorry. I got lost,” you answered, which had been only half a lie.

“Don’t worry, Baroness, you will soon remember the way,” he wasn’t angry and he beckoned you over with a move of his wrist.

You approached him obediently although your limbs were getting numb. You were left completely alone with him and you had no idea what he would want now from you. As your husband he could demand anything and you’d have to follow.

“Undress yourself,” his voice was softer than when he would address his nephews but it was still an order as he watched carefully with squinted eyes.

You nodded shyly at his words and began to clumsily take your gown off. It was a complicated piece of fashion and you did not have any servants to assist you. However, your husband was not rushing you, he simply watched and he was visibly content.

When you were naked, you covered yourself with your hands as you stood in front of him. He looked up from his bathtub and puffed on his pipe with a smirk.

“No, no, don’t hide,” he shook his head. “Come, join me,” he invited you in and you swallowed thickly at the black slime he had been bathing in. You doubted it was harmful but you didn’t want to sit in the same substance as him. “Join me,” he repeated, more sternly this time and you bit on your lower lip as you nodded and entered the bathtub.

Your body was shaking but the odd liquid was nicely warm and relaxing. The feeling of it helped you ease a bit. You sat as far away as possible from him.

“Come closer, Baroness. You see, I’m old now and not of the best health. I sadly cannot perform my marital duties and satisfy you like a husband would,” he pretended to feel sorry for you. “But I want to play with you a little and admire my new wife,” he reached out his hand and you took a deep breath in before holding it and letting him pull you closer. “Do you know why I took you for myself?” He whispered and you shook your head. “Because he wanted you so much.”

When you left The Baron’s chambers, there were two scared female servants waiting already behind the doors. At the sight of you leaving in a hurry, they entered – most likely to finish what you had started. You hurried to the rooms that were supposed to be yours now. They were empty since your own servants would come in the morning.

You had been barely dressed because you wanted to leave his room as fast as possible. This time taking your dress off took you a few seconds and you jumped into the bathtub in the bathroom and filled it with warm water. With a sponge laying on the counter you started to scrub your body harshly, causing the skin to bleed in a few places. You wanted to get the black slime off of you and – most importantly – your husband’s touch.

Feyd had been right. What his uncle had done to you was not the worst – he had been touching and teasing, sniffing your scent and caressing your skin as he had whispered about the beauty of youth and innocence. But the fact that it had been him doing so, it made it the most disgusting thing you had ever experienced. You gagged at the very memory of it and now, after your wedding night, you no longer felt comfortable with the idea of being bred with his son even if it would be an artificial conception.

You started to sob uncontrollably. You hated The Harkonnens. They had destroyed your planet and your childhood. Now they destroyed your innocence and womanhood. You would never get free of them.

But death was not an option. It would be an easy way out. You had to be strong.

The medic’s procedure had truly been quick and painless but you felt disgusting leaving the medical wing of the fortress knowing that The Baron’s seed might be already growing in you. To make it worse, on your way back to your chambers, you spotted Feyd-Rautha coming back from the training yards. He smirked at the sight of you as you froze, still remembering the last night’s blasphemous act of intimacy that he had performed.

“Aunt,” he greeted you with a nod of his head.

“Nephew,” you answered in a similar manner as you looked him up and down.

Sweaty from the combat and still wielding a blade, he looked incredibly magnetic at that moment. His youthful and fearless energy was unfortunately drawing you in. The way he was staring at you made you remember how good his fingers had felt on your pussy and it brought the heat up to your cheeks. You wished he would stay away from you because his very presence was a torment.

“How was it?” He leaned in when he spoke to you, his eyes carefully watching your figure. You did not give him an answer. “Did you cum?”

“You’re an insolent brat, Feyd-Rautha,” you told him sternly and he straightened himself. You spoiled his fun by not being scared nor disgusted. “I want you to stay away from me since I might already be carrying your uncle’s true heir,” you added.

The playfulness of his eyes turned into anger very quickly. He pointed at your abdomen with his blade and you flinched. The guards standing a few steps behind you, hurried to your side immediately.

“You will soon realise, aunt,” Feyd drawled, “that he is your enemy – not me. He will destroy you like he destroys everything he ever lays his hands on.”

“Like he destroyed you?” You raised your eyebrow curiously and he lowered the blade. His jaw clenched but there was a shadow of hurt in his eyes at that moment, which surprised you. You didn’t expect a man like him to ever feel hurt.

Feyd-Rautha did not reply to that. He walked away without a word, followed by your guards’ eyes.

“Are you alright, my Lady?” One of them asked you and you nodded. “Shall we tell The Baron about the incident?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “His nephew’s antics must be tempered.”

Six months had passed since your wedding day and you still were not carrying The Baron’s heir. Your husband was growing impatient and the only thing stopping him from getting angry at you was the medic’s declaration that it had not been your fault but the seed’s quality was weak due to your husband’s age and condition. Even enhanced artificially with the Harkonnen science, it could not settle well in your womb. At this point you were so drugged with their injections to the point that you wouldn’t be surprised if a simple touch of any other man than your husband would put a son in you. How ironic.

You had no idea what The Baron had done to Feyd-Rautha but after the corridor’s incident the young man had been avoiding you. He had been watching you carefully from afar with eyes full of hatred like an ominous shadow following you behind wherever you would go. But he would not approach you nor talk to you unless he had to in an official situation. He would always address you with respect as The Baroness or Aunt. You had noticed that it brought him a twisted pleasure to call you by that name.

Your husband hadn’t been spending much more time with you either. He would be next to you during the official events and he would ask you to join him in his chambers about once or twice a week but other than that you had been spending your days alone with nobody but your female servants and male guards, occasionally with the medic. It was a lonely life but at least you weren’t exposed too much to the dreadful Harkonnens… except for the nights you were expected to perform some sort of marital duties.

No amount of time had made you used to The Baron’s touch. You would flinch every time he caressed your body or admired it while whispering the filthiest things. But after the first month your body had developed a defence mechanism of dissociation during those acts.

Technically speaking, though, after six months of being The Baroness Harkonnen, you remained a virgin. The marriage had not been consummated properly so The Baron could divorce you without consequences any day. Giving him a son was the only thing that would legitimise your union. And as much as you dreaded his spawn growing inside of you, you wanted to secure your position. The frustration of not getting pregnant had brought you to tears many times before.

It did now as well. An hour after finding out that the last week’s procedure had failed and the seed had not settled in your womb. The medic had been both sorry for you and himself because he had known that The Baron’s rage would mostly be aimed at him for not doing enough. Soon, though, you were sure, it would reach you as well.

Your chambers were being cleaned at the moment and you wanted to be alone so you wandered to a different part of the fortress and hid in one of the empty study rooms. You kicked your shoes off and sat on a black leather armchair by the wall as you sobbed into your hands, curling up with your feet up on the seat. You felt so small and unimportant at that moment; you missed home and you missed your mother’s embrace. You missed any sort of affection.

Focused on self-pity you did not hear the doors opening. You only startled at the sound of them closing loudly and you froze at the sight of Feyd-Rautha who had just entered the study room. At first, he stiffened seeing you as well.

“What are you doing here, aunt?” He asked, carefully.

“It is none of your business, go away,” you ordered, trying for your voice not to break and reveal your crying state.

“You cannot command that,” he snorted at you.

“I am your Baroness. I can and I will,” you sniffled your tears back and you hugged yourself tighter as if you wanted to protect yourself from him.

Feyd ignored your words, though. He approached you confidently and smirked after realising what you had been doing.

“Yes, feast on the sight of me crying,” you snapped. “What a pleasure it must be for you. Let me please you further, dear nephew. I am still not expecting an heir that would take your place. Happy now?” Your voice trembled.

“Look at you, you’re glowing,” he crouched down to be on your level as he whispered in an oddly seductive way. You furrowed your brows at his words and he reached his hand out to brush your cheek stained with tears. “They’ve injected so many hormones into you, Baroness, you’re practically begging to be fucked. You’ve no idea what the smell of you does to men around you…” He brought his finger to his mouth and licked the tip softly. “The taste… Even your tears are an aphrodisiac,” he looked up at you and you swallowed thickly. It was making you uncomfortable but for the first time in a long time you felt seen. “What a torment it must be. Do you touch yourself, aunt?” He asked and the insolent question snapped you back to reality.

“I’ve no idea how he punishes you but you’re asking to be punished again,” you warned him.

“I can show you how he punishes me,” Feyd did not wait for your answer as he took his black shirt off, revealing his pale and strong chest. His hard muscles were simply beautiful, you had to admit it. But when he turned around to show you his back, he revealed dozens of thin scars scattered all over. Some were white and bumpy, visibly old. But some were more fresh and still reddened. You hissed at the sight and he turned his head around to look at your face.

“I’m sorry, I did not know…” You admitted and reached your hand out to touch some of them gently. You let your finger follow the lines and he smirked.

“Don’t be sorry, aunt. I enjoy the whipping,” he grabbed your wrist and turned his body in your direction again.

“It is hard to believe, Feyd-Rautha,” you admitted. “I thought his punishment was based on threats.”

“His methods are more sophisticated,” Feyd sneered. “Now, I’ve revealed myself to you, Baroness. Will you reveal yourself to me?” He asked and you furrowed your brow. “Do you touch yourself?” He repeated the question that caused your cheeks to heat up.

“Sometimes,” you answered. “I start but I never finish because somewhere in the middle I get haunted by the visions of his hands touching me and they make me sick,” you whispered your secret.

“Poor aunt, you must be so tense,” Feyd cooed to you and let go of your wrist. “So ready and eager to welcome a child in her womb and yet so unsatisfied.”

You hated to admit that he was right. The amount of hormones that had been injected made your breasts and womanhood sensitive, a single brush of your servant’s hand during the bathtime was enough to fill you with desire. Most of the time you were walking around with an itch deep between your legs, a heavy burden that could not be removed by any means.

Now, Feyd-Rautha being so close to you and talking to you in such a manner was not helping. In fact, it was making your condition worse.

“What do you care?” You asked. “I thought you don’t want me to carry him a son. If he tossed me aside or even killed me, it would be your victory,” you pointed out.

“My greatest victory would be humiliating him by putting my son in your womb,” Feyd watched your reaction carefully but you didn’t even flinch at the sound of that.

He was young and so full of life. You were sure he’d succeed during the first try. It would secure your position and keep The Baron Happy.

“What if he finds out? He’d kill us both,” you bit on your lower lip.

“And you think I would allow that?” He snorted at you, revealing his black teeth. You were so shook up that in this state you even found them attractive. The fact they were so black, so different, so extraordinary, symbolising his brutality. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted his toxic saliva to poison your innocence. You wanted to be trapped under him as he ravages you.

He had to notice the shift of your gaze, the way you face changed its expression. He smirked triumphantly, already knowing that you craved him.

“The medic… He will see I was deflowered,” your last hesitation made you speak up your concerns.

“The medic?” Feyd-Rautha chuckled contemptuously. “The same one who is working for me? The same one who is making sure that my uncle’s seed is not succeeding?”

“Wh-what?” You choked out but he only smirked as he shushed you.

“Don’t forget you were supposed to be mine, little snake. I do not give up easily,” he admitted and with one rapid movement of his strong hands he pushed your legs apart as your thin silky dress pulled up, revealing you to him. “Let’s give you a quick release before I properly breed you. You must be in such pain and torment,” he cooed.

Your eyes widened at his actions but you did not protest. Your limbs were getting numb out of the overwhelming desire and feeling his breath on your pussy was nearly enough to make you cum on spot.

Feyd dropped to his knees and leaned in even closer, biting the soft flesh of your thighs gently with his black teeth and leaving trails of saliva. You felt your womanhood pulsating, begging for his attention. He had to notice the twitching muscles underneath your underwear as well as he chuckled and took it off of you greedily. He froze for a moment with his eyes fixed on his prize and he slowly licked his lips.

“So swollen and eager. The smell is enough to put only one thought in my head,” he admitted. “Make you swell with my seed. Come here,” he crooned in his coarse voice that sent shivers down your spine as he grabbed your ankles and pulled you closer to the edge of the armchair’s seat. He threw your feet over his muscular shoulders and opened his mouth to stick out his long and slim tongue to show it off for you as you took a deep and shaky breath in.

Feyd leaned in and buried his face between your wet folds that had been anticipating any sort of release for weeks now. You gasped loudly at the sensation of the tip of his tongue tickling your sensitive sweet spot. His mouth was so skilled that he did not require the assistance of his hands as he placed them flat on your thighs to keep steady. He would gather your wetness with his tongue and then dip it all inside of you, making your back arch and hips rise slightly for more friction. There were times when his whole face was buried deep into you but he did not even flinch from the lack of air as he was devouring you, licking you completely clean like a starving dog and then focusing again on your swollen clit. Whenever he teased it, you were sure you’d cum now but then he would move his tongue away over and over, keeping you on the edge.

Your gasps and soft moans filled the room. You were trying to hold yourself back a little, ashamed of being so displayed for him but on the other hand it was him kneeling down to lick your pussy like a servant. It was you who was in control and the thought of that alone was enough to turn you on even more.

Your hands had been squeezing the armchair’s leather fabric but you dared to place them on the back of Feyd’s bald head and he did not protest. In fact, he moaned at the feeling as a pleasurable vibration went down your body. Your toes curled when you pushed his face even deeper and you felt the pressure of his nose on your clit when he was fucking you with his long tongue.

The overwhelming desire stripped you out of shame as you began to move his head up and down, rubbing your pussy all over his face while your moans grew higher and louder. Fuck it, you thought, you deserved it. After months of such a sad and awful marriage, being The Baron’s trophy wife, unsatisfied and yet violated by his repulsing touch, you deserved to cum on his handsome nephew’s face. It was the least Feyd-Rautha could do to make it up for you.

With a loud moan, shaky breath and trembling legs you finally reached your peak. Although the movements of your hips came to a halt and your hands stopped pushing his face, he was relentlessly sucking on your clit throughout your high, until you begged him to stop and he hesitantly let go of your glistening pussy with your sticky juices vulgarly dripping down his chin as you looked down at him with hazy eyes.

“I could feast on you for days, Baroness, you’re as sweet as a ripe fruit from your homeworld,” Feyd did not bother with wiping his face. He took your limp feet and calves from his shoulders and threw them back on the floor before placing one last kiss upon your wet mound as your pussy twitched uncontrollably in an aftershock.

You didn’t know what to say. You could see the hunger in him, he expected more and you wanted it, too. You wanted to feel his cock inside of you, you wanted him to fuck you like The Baron could never do.

“Claim me, Feyd-Rautha,” you ordered in a weak voice. “I want to remember with satisfaction each time he asks for me that it is you who have claimed me and fucked me. Put your son in me and smile every time you see me walking swollen with your seed as you know that it is yours and not his. If you’re a good boy now, I might reward you and let you feast on my fruit every night in my chambers,” you promised, like it would bring him more pleasure than you, which was not true at all. You craved it as much as him, if not more.

Your words elicited even greater hunger inside of him as he grabbed you by your ankles and pulled you down on the cold marble floor. The coolness of the stone brought some relief to your feverish body, your dress was still pulled up and you watched Feyd positioning himself above you as you bit on your lower lip and realised he would truly claim you now, on the floor of an empty room in secret. There was something barbaric about it and the fact you were an innocent lady from a planet known as Paradise who would be taken by such a brute warrior was making you go dizzy. You didn’t even fear the pain that would come with it because you wanted it – you wanted him to stretch you out and fill you.

When such thoughts were invading your mind and exciting you all over again, Feyd got his cock out of his leather pants and stroked it at the sight of you waiting for him with your legs open. With his free hand he gathered the wetness of your pussy and coated his length with it before hovering over you with his face inches away from yours.

“It’s going to hurt, my Lady,” he warned you with a smirk, there was absolutely no worry in his voice.

“I want you to hurt me,” you nodded and grabbed his biceps, ready to dig your nails in them as he’d slide inside.

Your spent and overstimulated pussy was relaxed enough to welcome him but the burning sensation made your back arch and your eyes roll, you were sure your fingernails made his shoulders bleed but you did not care. The pain was overwhelming and mixed with pleasure, you felt as full as you could and yet he still had more and more to give you, sliding it inside slowly, inch by inch, with a raspy moan and his forehead pressed to yours.

“You’re so tight,” Feyd breathed out, “open your eyes,” he commanded and your eyes fluttered open to stare into his cold and intense gaze. “I want you to look at me when I fill you up with my son,” he added and you nodded, still too overwhelmed to speak but already getting used to his size as if your pussy was made for his cock.

Once you nodded, he started rutting into you with all his force without any warning. You dug your fingernails even deeper into his flesh and moaned out of pleasure as the spasms of pain travelled through your body. His moves were fast and rough, relentless; nearly automatic like he was a machine and not a human. With each stroke he was hitting a spot inside of you that was making you gasp and writhe underneath him, leaving you a drooling and whimpering mess. Feyd used one of his hands to grab your cheeks and squeeze them gently to shut you up before joining his lips with yours in a sloppy and possessive kiss. You could taste yourself on him and you moaned at the taste – it was sweet indeed from all the hormones you had been injected with. It was no wonder he got addicted already, you would get, too. In fact, you explored his mouth with the tip of your tongue in order to clean it off of your juices completely, greedily licking them away from him as you were letting out muffled moans into his mouth.

His hips were brutal and his mouth was aggressive but you wanted nothing else but this. Hearing the stories about his sexual appetite you had been scared but now you wanted to laugh at your old self. It was nothing to fear, it was something to anticipate.

The fact that the act was forbidden, that he was your husband’s young nephew and a rival of some sort, was making it even better. You were welcoming each of his rough thrusts with eagerness, hoping it would fill your already swollen womb. Your whole body was ready to take the seed and as much as you dreaded the idea of carrying your husband’s son under your heart, you found the idea of carrying Feyd-Rautha’s heir much more appealing. If he would be like his biological father, he’d be handsome and fearsome, psychotic and depraved. You’d see your lover in him – not your husband – and it was giving you satisfaction.

Feyd’s hands dropped to your breasts as he tore the fabric of your dress open to expose them for himself to squeeze and pull on your hard nipples. You broke the kiss and cupped his face to push it down to your neck where you needed his open-mouthed sloppy kisses and soft bites of his black teeth. He obeyed and then he moved his head even lower to give the same treatment to your breasts, occasionally accompanying your moans with his low grunts.

You could feel that your second peak was coming close and you wanted to make him finish, too, so you spoke up in a shaky, hazy voice.

“Fill me up, give me a son,” you pleaded in a raspy whisper. “I want it so bad, I want to swell with your baby.”

Feyd moved his head up once again and joined your lips in another kiss – this time it was messy with teeth clashing and uncontrollable moans as the movement of his hips became less steady. In a few short spasmodic thrusts he spilled his thick black cum inside of your pussy. The feeling of his hard cock filling you deep inside straight into your womb was enough to bring you to your second peak as well.

Once he was definitely finished, he broke the kiss between you two and moved up to slide out of you and hide his cock back into his pants. You whined at the empty feeling and watched him put his shirt back on while breathing heavily, still laying on the floor, exposed with your dress torn up and your hair a mess. Feeling like a whore and absolutely loving it.

“You will go to the medic tomorrow and tell him that he had to be mistaken and the seed had made its way inside of you,” he informed you oh-so-formally.

“You’re so sure of your success?” You asked.

“I am,” he leaned in to look at you. “Don’t worry, I shall still visit you at night whenever you invite me. I’m a dog at your command now,” he admitted shamelessly and you sat up, resting on your elbows to take a better look at him.

That fearsome warrior was completely under your spell and all you had to do was to let him taste your pussy. You laughed at him. He had so many other women, yet it was you who made him this way. You knew why. It was because you were a war prize, because you were from Paradise and because you were an off-world Shehzadi. But most importantly he wanted you because you were his uncle’s Baroness. He craved you to spite him.

“And if I command you to never touch me nor speak to me again? I have already used you for my own gain,” you teased and raised one of your feet to caress his thigh with it.

Feyd angrily grabbed your ankle and looked into your eyes intensely.

“Don’t think I will allow my child to be called his heir and watch myself being tossed aside as my son is remembered as Vladimir Harkonnen’s spawn,” he threatened.

You didn’t answer that, unsure about the meaning of his words. He gave you one last angry gaze and pushed your foot away before walking out of the room as if nothing had just happened.

Of course the medic did not believe your words but he pretended that he had. He couldn’t know that Feyd had told you about the fact that he was working for him so he just played along and informed the Baron that he had been mistaken and you were, in fact, finally pregnant with his son.

You had been hoping that once you’d be pregnant, your husband would leave you alone. But no, how wrong you had been. He was now keeping you around him nearly all the time as if you were a precious cargo. He invited many great leaders for official banquets and showed you off. He would sit you on his lap and keep his huge hand on your swollen abdomen proudly.

But you did not even mind that much – not when you knew that the child was not his. You would often catch Feyd-Rautha’s gaze somewhere in the room and give him a mysterious smile as he would give you a smirk. It was your secret, your revenge on The Baron Harkonnen.

And late at night he would creep inside your room and please you however you wanted him to, only to disappear before the first rays of the black sun would hit you, as if he was only a dream or a ghost. You would recognise his smell now everywhere, though. The feeling of his touch differed so much from others. There was nothing but pure and raw desire bonding you two together and yet, when you watched him in the gladiator arena next to your husband, you feared for his life and you would startle at the sight of his opponents attacking him.

You knew that if something or someone threatened your life, Feyd-Rautha would protect you and he was more physically capable of it than his uncle. You needed him alive to keep you and your son safe.

You admired his body and his strength, the amount of his devotion to you and his little revenge plan. He was magnetic and you almost felt lucky to be chosen by him even though it was you having the upper hand in this relationship.

Some nights he was not coming to you, too busy with other things or perhaps too exhausted after the training. You didn’t mind since your body needed a rest as well, especially now when you were six months pregnant already. That night was one of those lonely nights and you had problems with falling asleep, so when you were woken up abruptly in the early morning by your servants, you didn’t hide your annoyance.

“What is it?” You snapped and rubbed your eyes.

“It’s… It’s The Baron, my Lady,” the girl’s black Harkonnen eyes were widened out of fear.

“What about him?” You yawned and sat up, squinting your eyes at the sun creeping inside through the windows. Another servant was already opening the curtains.

“He… He drowned last night, my Lady,” the girl informed you and you froze.

“What?” You asked, blinking slowly, not sure if it wasn’t a dream. “What are you talking about? What do you mean drowned? My husband is dead?”

“Yes, Baroness… He drowned in his bathtub. My condolences,” she bowed down. “You are awaited by the lords for the council,” she informed you.

You were speechless as you allowed them to dress you up in a humble black dress of mourning. They did your hair up and put a light make up on your face to hide the dark bags underneath your eyes. Your mind was spinning with an endless train of thoughts.

One thing was certain – it had been no accident. It had to be Feyd-Rautha’s doing.

And as much as you were relieved to hear about The Baron’s death since he would never touch nor hurt you ever again… you were scared of what would happen now. There was no way the lords would allow you to rule as the widow. You were an off-world woman who had been married to their Baron as a war prize. You were a pet, nothing more. You only hoped to convince them to let your son be an heir as they call someone else a regent in his name. You couldn’t hope even for the regent title.

You were escorted to the council room by the guards and when you entered it, every man inside went silent. They bowed down and gave you their condolences but their eyes held no sympathy. Feyd-Rautha was not amongst them.

“Thank you, my lords,” you took a seat at the end of the long, black table. “It is a great tragedy but thankfully before his death, my husband has managed to produce an heir,” you brought up the topic immediately as the men looked at each other. “What is it?” You asked.

“The boy is not even born yet, my Lady,” one of the lords spoke up and pointed at Rabban. “If we announce Count Rabban the next Baron… or Feyd-Rautha as the late Baron wanted… Well, then they might produce their own heirs in the future. They are both young and capable.”

You got dizzy at those words and the reactions of other men. They seemed to hum in approval.

“So, I am to be tossed aside?” You asked, angrily. “I am carrying your late Baron’s son and you’re tossing me aside? The child inside me is a rightful heir,” you protested.

“And what would you want?” A different lord asked without even addressing you properly. You realised you had already lost. “Perhaps you want to be The Baroness Regent? Over my dead body I will let a woman – let alone from Pairi Daêza – to command me.”

“Enough!” The doors opened and Feyd-Rautha walked inside with his head held high and a playful smirk on his face. The way he confidently walked and scanned the room with his eyes was enough proof for you to know that it was him who had killed your husband. “The child is not yet born, that is a fair point,” he looked at the lord who had addressed the matter, “therefore at the time of my uncle’s death I was still the Na-Baron,” he added and you gasped softly. You couldn’t believe that he betrayed you. You chewed on the inside of your cheek at the realisation how stupid you had been to think you were playing on the same side.

You had never discussed any details of his plan with him. But you were carrying his son and you hoped he would protect you and the child. Apparently, he only tormented you for his own fun. You wanted to cry. You had lost everything.

Then he looked at you and his face softened a little at the sight of your trembling lip and sad eyes.

“I will wed my uncle’s widow to be my Baroness as the old levirate law says,” he announced and you froze out of shock. Levirate was a law about brothers but you guessed an uncle with such an important title counted as that, too.

“Respecting that law is not expected from you, my Lord Baron,” one of the lords informed him. “You can choose any other bride.”

“I can,” Feyd nodded and stood behind your chair as he rested his hand on your shoulder, “but I will not. I’m choosing Baroness (Y/N) Harkonnen to be my bride,” he announced as the lords looked at each other, as surprised as you were. Out of relief you reached your hand up to hold his and squeeze it in a grateful manner. “I also want to make it known,” Feyd raised his voice and everyone went silent as they looked at him, “that the child she is carrying is mine and not my late uncle’s, therefore her son is my heir.”

Your heart started to pound in your chest. The eyes of the lords were staring at you with such intensity that you were afraid they would make a hole inside of you. You swallowed thickly, knowing perfectly well that you just had to admit to your sins now.

“I confirm,” you nodded and they began to whisper between each other. Feyd’s hand squeezed yours.

“If you do not believe me nor The Baroness, the medic might make a public announcement of the paternity test but I do hope you will not humiliate your Baroness like that,” Feyd told them and they all went silent again.

“N-no, my lord Baron,” one of the lords stood up and bowed down in your direction. “We accept the child as yours and we will let others know.”

“I do not want this matter to be discussed nor questioned,” Feyd stated harshly.

“With all respect, brother,” Rabban spoke up suddenly and you laid your eyes on him, curious about what he was going to say, “the matter that has been discussed and questioned so far was our uncle’s fatherhood. The only thing we have found out today was the identity of the man our Baroness has laid with.”

“Rabban,” Feyd barked at him.

“It is quite alright,” you said. “I am rather relieved that I do not have to lie about it anymore as I am proud to carry Feyd-Rautha’s son under my heart,” you smiled at the lords. Some of them rolled their eyes but they still nodded their heads at you.

“Then it’s settled,” Feyd announced. “Go back to your chambers as we settle the details about my uncle’s funeral and the rest of the upcoming ceremonies, my Lady,” he looked down at you and you nodded. He helped you to stand up and placed a kiss upon the palm of your hand before taking your seat by the table.

You were taken back to your chambers accompanied by the guard as you caressed your womb gently, very content with the outcome of that council.

The excitement made you less tired so you just ordered breakfast. Once you were finishing it, the doors to your bedroom opened and Feyd-Rautha entered your chamber. For the first time by daylight, without making it a secret. You stood up from the table and approached him with a smile before you threw your hands around his neck.

“My darling,” you greeted him. “I have doubted you for a short while this morning, you know that?”

“Have I not told you that I would not allow my son to be remembered as his heir?” Feyd smiled at you and pulled you closer by your hips – as close as he could with your swollen womb between you two.

“But the lords were right. You do not have to marry me. I can give you a son, he can be your heir. There is no need to wed me,” you pointed out.

“Don’t you want it?” Feyd tilted his head.

“I’m asking do you want it,” you pointed out.

“I wanted to marry you a year ago when you came here, after I lifted up that veil. Why would I change my mind?” He put his hand on your abdomen and caressed it possessively. “You were supposed to be mine. You would have been mine if he hadn’t wanted to spite me.”

“Why do you want me?” You asked. “As a Baron you could have anyone. One of the Imperial Princesses even.”

“You’ve got what it takes, my Lady. You’re stubborn and strong. I’ve claimed you, you are mine,” he insisted.

You cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with your fingertips. It was hard to believe that he was yours now. Your husband. You would no longer dread these words.

“I will be a good wife to you, Feyd-Rautha,” you promised, genuinely. You did not want any games nor conflict. “I want only one thing from you.”

“And what is it?” He squinted his eyes at you, curiously.

“Safety,” you pleaded. “Of me and my family.”

“Your family is now my family,” he nodded and you sighed with relief. “I want a few things from you, too,” he added and you bit on your lower lip.

“What is it?” You asked.

“You will share your chambers with me,” he started and you nodded, “you will give me more heirs,” he added and you smiled at that, “and you will never mention him again,” he finished sternly.

“Never mention who?” You asked softly and leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon his lips. “There is only you and I.”

MASTERLIST

#dune imagine #dune fanfic #dune x reader #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha fanfic #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen imagine #feyd rautha harkonnen fanfic #lilysfiction #austin butler x reader

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obsessivevoidkitten · 7 months

Text

Getting Thrashed

Female Alpha Yandere x Male Omega Reader (CW: Noncon/dubcon, heat cycles, scent kink, pheromones, non-traditional a/b/o dynamics, NO mpreg, enslaved reader, conquered society, general yandere behavior, teasing, biting, claiming, space pirates) Word Count: 3.4k (WOW, sorry that took so long. I started off writing fast because I loved the idea then lost motivation halfway through. Hope you guys enjoy the second female yandere fic I have written and the first one I have written with smut. Also first fic I have written where the reader penetrates the yandere.)

Your day on the space colony of Nithyal started out like any other. You diligently did your assigned work of farming a wide array of essential foods for the colony.

It was pretty vigorous manual labor, but you didn't mind. You rather enjoyed the scent of fresh soil and ripe fruits.

And you were fairly compensated. Everyone was in Nithyal. After all, the colony was on the planet Solstan. And it wasn't called a paradise world for nothing. The weather was agreeable, there were few dangerous animals, and everyone lived harmoniously. No homelessness, no corruption, no hunger, no violence. You were very grateful to live in such a place.

Especially since you were an omega.

Many generations ago, human fertility was greatly diminishing. In a bid to save the species, there were numerous fertility experiments.

One of the most extreme experiments that altered human DNA and psychology the most resulted in two new variants of humans: Alphas and Omegas.

They were both given extreme fertility, but what good is being fertile if you just end up with a barren partner?

So they were both given heightened olfactory senses, with omegas being given genes to produce pheromones that alphas were attracted to and vice versa.

They were also capable of quickly forming intense bonds with their romantic/sexual interests.

But the biggest difference from unaltered humans was that alphas entered ruts and omegas had heats. These periods of ultra high libido were to make sure they were compelled to procreate.

The gene editing was not without unintended consequences.

Alphas tended to be larger, stronger, and more aggressive than normal people, and omegas had a tendency to be smaller and a bit more submissive.

Alphas also tended to be possessive and jealous, even going so far as almost always needing to mark their mate with a permanent bite.

These behavioral concerns lead to the discontinuation of the program. Specifically, concerns about omegas maintaining their agency when faced with such forceful alphas that could easily sniff them out.

Human fertility was restored through more refined gene editing later, with suppressants being developed for the humans already altered and their descendants so they could mask themselves.

Heats and ruts were only partly suppressed, though and it wasn't too hard for someone to discover who was an omega when their life was put on hold in a predictable pattern once every few months.

It wasn't ideal, since most people hated such altered humans.

But Nithyal was different. Everyone just cared about each other and didn't bother with any judgement.

There was no better place in the galaxy.

That was... until the dark day that a pirate fleet came from the deepest reaches of known space to upend everything.

They were called The Eternal Eclipse. And they certainly eclipsed any joy you found in Nithyal.

Your people tried to mount a defense, fighting bravely with the few ships and ground to air weapons that were available, but given their numbers there was no chance of victory.

Your colony was pretty isolated from the rest of civilization so once conquered there was little chance of liberation.

They quickly killed or at least maimed anyone who tried to fight back or organize a rebellion.

The colonists had become little more than slaves.

Many continued the hard labors they had before, with more demand to support the new ruling population, others were forced into personal servitude for the higher up pirates, and a decent chunk of the population became personal fuck toys.

At first, when the pirates had gathered up all of the colonists to assign them their fates, you were mercifully going to continue the work that you had already been doing.

But unfortunately you somehow caught the eye of Thrash and for some reason she had taken a liking to you. So instead of cultivating plants, you were forced to be by her side all day as a simple servant. This probably wouldn’t have been too bad if the violent leader didn’t happen to be, against all odds, an alpha.

You had never met one before but you could tell right away. Her scent, her attitude, the fact that she was larger and stronger than most adult men. She had hair like fire and an energy and attitude to match.

At first you were worried that she had pegged you for an omega, but she gave no indication that she knew. You were in constant fear that your omega nature would be discovered. It wasn't unheard of for omegas to be brutally raped, sold to far off black markets, or even just outright killed. Surely if she had known you wouldn’t just be a personal slave.

It seemed that your suppressants were enough to completely hide yourself from her, and you had a huge supply of them. Though you knew for a fact that once your heat started, your pheromones would poke through. And you’d also be rather horny. Maybe you could feign illness and cover yourself in perfume?

That was probably your best bet. Though you hoped no one would notice that you got ill like clockwork. Luckily you still had plenty of time until your next heat.

Working for Thrash wasn’t too physically demanding, you just had to clean up after her, prepare meals, and do little odd tasks like deliver a note or something to one of her subordinates. You actually got a lot of down time between tasks… though you always had to stay nearby in case Thrash needed something.

The overworked farmers would have surely enjoyed such a relatively cushy work detail, but it was absolute hell for you. It was like walking on eggshells, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Thrash hadn’t treated you poorly, never hit you. But you had no idea how an omega would be treated.

It was especially scary when she decided to tease you, just because she enjoyed watching you squirm.

When she licked your neck in the cafeteria in front of all her dining pirate crew she cackled at how your face turned red and you got as still as a statue as your brain shut down. You were terrified that she could smell or even taste the omega on your skin.

Thrash didn’t really know why but something in her made her love flustering you. She just couldn’t help it. She had always enjoyed making men uncomfortable or putting them in their place, but you were a bit different. It wasn’t like it was with her male pirate colleagues, where she strove to be the best and made them obey her. No, this was different, seeing your face turn red made her hungry for more.

One night she dismissed you with a smack on the ass and let you go to bed while she stayed up drinking with her best buddies. You felt humiliated and rushed off to your room, which was one that was in the house she had claimed for herself in case she needed you for something she wanted you close by. You were really like a live-in maid.

You tidied up a few things before washing up and going to bed, still embarrassed about having your butt touched in public. Despite that you managed to go to sleep pretty quickly.

Though a few hours later a very drunk Thrash comes stumbling in drunk. You wake up with a jolt and nearly jump out of your bed as a strong arm wraps around your waste and firmly pulls you close.

“Mmm where ya goin cutie? Ya need to stay close to yer alpha!”

She lightly grinded into you for a moment, her crotch against your ass before stopping and nuzzling into your neck.

“Thr-Thrash… uh… I think you accident-”

She shushed you by licking your neck and nibbling a bit. You went still as stone. If she broke the skin the special enzymes in her alpha saliva would cause you to have a permanent mark. Fortunately that didn’t happen, instead remaining content with sloppy kisses, sucking, and gentle nibbling.

You couldn’t help but let out a series of little whimpering moans at the sensation. You also became aware of just how nice she smelled. So dominant. Kinda… safe…

She chuckled at your noises.

“Haha, you’re practically a tiny defenseless omega!”

That made you shake the thoughts and distractions from your mind. This woman was not safe. She stole your home and turned you into a glorified slave. If she knew what you were she’d sell you to the highest bidder!

Luckily after that comment she had passed out in a drunken stupor.

You managed to extricate yourself from her grasp before scrambling to get to the restroom. You had to double check to make sure that the bites that Thrash had so kindly applied to your neck had not broken the skin, luckily they hadn’t.

But you still looked absolutely horrible. Your neck was covered in little hickeys, your hair was a mess, and you were so shaky from the rude awakening that you could barely stand.

Something about looking so debauched made your cock hard. Maybe it was because you had her alpha stink all over you or maybe it was something to do with the bites all over your neck. Maybe it was just because you weren’t used to the attention.

It didn’t matter why the result was the same, you had to do something about this almost painful arousal. And the scent that clung to you.

As you got in the shower you gave your cock the attention it was demanding, thinking filthy and shameful thoughts about Thrash. You tried to pleasure yourself to other thoughts but your mind kept drifting back to the oppressor of your people and the way she smelled as she bit and drooled all over your neck.

You couldn’t spill until you imagined her leaving a permanent claiming bite on your neck.

After your shower you felt dirtier than you had before you got in. You reminded yourself that you hated Thrash and that she and her crew had done to upend the lives of you and your people. It wasn’t your fault she made you aroused. What omega wouldn’t have been after that?

After you got dressed and left the bathroom you wrapped your spare blanket around you and slept in the chair in the corner of the room, you would have rather not been in the same room as the drunk alpha, but you had nowhere else you could go.

When Thrash woke up she found you sleeping soundly in the room and it took her a moment to realize she wasn’t in her room. She must have kicked you out of your bed. She did feel kinda bad about it, but she figured you would live. She was the one with the massive headache.

She went back to her quarters, leaving you to sleep a bit longer.

When you woke up you found her, thankfully gone, you wrapped a scarf around yourself to hide your neck, the weather was cool lately so no one should give a second thought to you wearing one. Then you left to start your day of servitude as you did everyday.

Unfortunately for you, you had to accompany her as she went on one of the landed ships to see what the problem was with it since she had originally been a mechanic and engineer. It was very hot in the engine room.

“How are you wearing that scarf? It’s so hot in here.” The heat wasn’t the only problem you were dealing with, she was sweating and only wearing a tank top, allowing her musk to practically smother you.

It didn’t really take all that long for you to get more than a bit dizzy and flustered. And once you were, it took even less time for Thrash to notice, she often kept an overprotective eye on you, though you had rarely noticed.

She came stomping over and looked down at you.

“I told you it was too hot for that! You’re gonna get sick dumbass! Take it off and let’s go outside for some fresh air.”

You fidgeted under her gaze and mumbled that you were okay.

When you didn’t take it off immediately she growled, jerked you over to her, and yanked it off of you.

She stared wide-eyed at your neck, not remembering having put the marks there herself the night before. And she was fucking livid.

“When the fuck did you hook up with someone, you fucking slut!? You belong to ME and I didn’t give you any permission for that shit!”

The enraged alpha slapped you hard across the cheek, making you yelp and stumble to the ground. You were sobbing and could scarcely manage to croak any words out.

“I-i d-d-didn’t l-let anyone d-do-”

Had one of her men defiled you against your will? Defiled HER slave?

“Tell me who did it!! I’ll cut their dick off and shove it up their own ass!”

Her eyes were like a cats, narrow slits. Your naturally submissive instincts told you to put your head down and obey anything the near feral alpha might demand of you.

“Y-you were dr-dr-drunk and b-bit me last night…”

Tears were leaking down your face. If you had not been on suppressants your scent would surely be one of fear mixed with pheromones to calm down this beast.

That’s right, she had woken up with a bad hangover in your room...

Thrash stared at you, at this tiny crying man in front of her, crying and terrified. She felt awful, and she didn’t often feel bad about her actions. She was a pirate, but for some reason she just didn’t like seeing you suffer at all. Certainly not because of her.

“Fuck… I’m… sorry…” She managed to say as she knelt down and rubbed your back.

“I really have no memory of last night...”

The large powerful woman picked you up easily, with your head nuzzled into her neck, crying into her.

“C’mon crybaby, let’s get you cooled off, I’ll deal with this engine later~”

She carried you carefully back to your room in the housing building, collecting odd looks as she did, which she quickly got rid of with a glare each time.

Thrash placed you into your bed and felt your head with the back of her hand. Despite not having the scarf, having been exposed to the cool outside air on the way over here, and now being in an air conditioned room you were hotter than ever.

Your mind was getting foggier and when she left to go get a cool rag and some medicine from the bathroom you finally realized why you were so hot. You were entering heat. The neck stimulation and all of Thrash’s dominant behavior over you must have somehow triggered an early one.

You had to leave before she came back and smelled it. It would only be a matter of moments before the smell broke through your suppressants.

Something in your brain was telling you to just stay there and let your alpha come back and take care of you, but the other much more grounded in reality part of your brain was telling you you had to hide in a utility closet somewhere and deal with the consequences of your absenteeism later. Better than being sold off or raped by every pirate who wants to try out an omega.

Right then you really wished suppressants just completely eliminated heats completely instead of just diluting them a bit.

Right after you had that thought Thrash entered the room and saw you standing by the door, you saw her hand had a bottle of pills. Though her search in your medicine cabinet yielded no fever reducers she found something else hidden away under your sink. Your suppressants.

And then your scent hit her. It was dulled by your medication, but she was an alpha unused to omega pheromones in any capacity.

She growled low and her pupils were like slits as her stare bored into you angrily.

“You’re MY property! And you’re keeping secrets from ME!?”

Before you could stumble out the door she charged at you, picked you up and slammed you down on the bed a bit harder than she had intended. You looked away, unable to meet her domineering and angry gaze. Your only response was to instinctively whimper in submission to placate her rage.

Thrash sniffed you, inhaling your scent from your underarm to your neck. You leaned your head over to give her easier access and show that you submitted to her will. You were terrified and she could certainly smell it.

Some of her drool dripped onto your neck as she hovered above it, licking you tentatively to calm you down. She was going to bite you and make you into her personal fuck toy and mate, she was mad that you had hidden your nature from her, but she would never hurt you.

Thrash sucked and nibbled at the gland in your neck, with you gracing her ears with a new whimpering gasp or moan each time she touched the sensitive spot.

Your terror evaporated quickly, replaced by heat fueled desire. And if you were honest with yourself maybe not all of the yearning was born from your heat.

The lust filled alpha couldn’t help but inhale your scent over and over, it was literally a drug for her. She had already wanted to fuck you into oblivion even before she got a whiff of you in heat, but now there was no stopping herself. Already she couldn’t wait to drink in your smell during your next heat when your suppressants were out of your system.

She made a mental note to flush them after this.

The pirate rubbed your crotch, palming at your erection, getting you even more aroused before she bit your neck. Hard. Her fangs pumping into you something that would make you smell claimed to any other alphas and leaving a large permanent hickey on that portion of your neck.

You moaned out loud in painful pleasure, arching your back and thrusting your clothed arousal into her hand.

Thrash licked your bleeding wound and then turned her attention to your cock and her own pleasure.

You could only stare and writhe in need as she pulled away from you and took off her clothes.

“Gimme a second, I just need to get our clothes off!”

It was the first time you had seen her breasts. You were in awe of this figure above you. So strong and assertive. So beautiful. A perfect partner.

To her you were the beautiful one. So sweet and pretty and perfect put in your place below her.

She practically ripped your clothing off and buried herself back in your neck as she brought herself down on you, enveloping your entire length in the warmth of her cunt. Her hands pushed down your shoulders as she rode you.

Your pleasured moans mixed with her grunts and growls as she fucked you until you saw stars. Your first orgasm was really quick, and was not nearly enough for either of you. Another perk of heats, insatiable libido.

With each of her downward movements you thrust upwards, desperate to get as deep as possible, the scent of her aroused pheromones combined with your heat making you absolutely unable to care about anything else.

You didn’t care that she had conquered your people or that she controlled them. In this state it only made her stronger in your eyes. A more suitable mate. You wanted to fill her up with so many babies.

The sex lasted hours, until the both of you were too sore to keep moving. It finally ended with you clinging to her and using her tits as a pillow with her arm wrapped around your protectively.

When the fog of pheromones and heat left your brain you were horrified by what had happened. But if you weren’t owned by her before, the new mark on your neck meant you certainly were now, and she would never let you go.

#Female Yandere x Male Reader #Male Reader #yandere omegaverse #Yandere a/b/o #Yandere scenarios #Alpha Female x Omega Male Reader #Omega Male Reader #yandere girlfriend #My OCs #My OC Thrash

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motherofdogs1010 · 2 months

Text

Of Messiahs and Seeds II (Dark!Paul Atreides x Reader)

Summary: Emperor Paul of House Atreides has set forth with expansion of his empire on the planets that have resisted and has now come across the last stronghold that resists him: Terra Millennium...

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW dark!fic, obsessed Paul, yandere! Paul, eventual forced marriage, eventual pregnancy, talks of war, eventual NONCON/DUB CON

A/N: I'm basing Paul and Reader off of Usagi and Prince Demond's relationship of how obsessed he was with her just from her expression and power

Dividers by @firefly-graphics Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Picking up from Last Time

"You will relinquish your place as Queen", Paul said, walking up towards the women. "I will make sure you are well-cared for or you will become the beggar Queen you are."

Y/N raised a brow as she walked towards the Emperor, anger flowing through her but Lord York had always said to remain a neutral stance as possible to not let the enemy know your next move.

"We are not here to discuss terms of surrender", Lord York said, "we are here to discuss terms of peace."

"And those terms are to relinquish your right to Terra Millennium", Paul said before motioning to a Reverend Mother holding a newborn behind him. "And allow the Beneit Gesserit to spread truth and the Fremen people, my people find their Paradise."

"Obviously, we didn't communicate well", she said, looking at the dark-haired Emperor. "When we said war would happen, we met war will come to the Empire, not Terra Millennium."

She saw the man chuckle, actually the entire Atreides fleet chuckled and Y/N felt more anger, but she knew she would be the one chuckling in just a few moments.

"I imagine that you are finding this difficult", Paul said, leaning down in her face. "Your reign as Queen is over."

She heard the roar of Draco coming closer and she let a little smirk out.

"My reign has just begun, Emperor Paul."

Just then Draco swooped in, letting out a mighty roar as he landed on the ground behind her, roaring another roar as he spotted Paul...

The mighty beast was unlike anything Paul had seen as it landed next to the Queen, it leaned it's scaly head next to her affectionately before she turned as it lowered a large wing, allowing her to climb onto its back as he stumbled back as it roared at him, he could see the impossibly sharp teeth.

He could hear Stilgar let out a prayer as the beast began to flap its wings and run on its legs before taking off into the sky.

He watched in slight horror as he heard the sound of more beasts and saw two more in the air, flying behind its sibling in the air as it looked like it was circling one of his ships.

What was she making it do? Could she command them?

His answer soon came as the three mighty beast found one of his ships and breathed down a holy fire, he watched in anger and a little horror as his ship began to literally melt, the spice stored in the ship destroyed.

"I believe we have made ourselves clear", the shorter man said, "Terra Millennium will remain ours. It is in your best interest to take the mercy our Queen has shown, and let the Houses know of the mercy and kindness our Queen has shown you."

🌎

"Muad'Dib", Stilgar said once they had retreated back into the remaining ships. "We must formulate a new plan of attack."

Paul rubbed his chin as he sat in a chair, a hologram image of Terra Millennium was pulled up as he began to hear everyone discuss their next move as the ships hovered in orbit over the planet, but Paul could not think at the moment.

Such raw power at the hands of just one woman, Paul could not fathom that. It was like she was made to be the equal of a great ruler, an equal crafted just for him. Irulan was too mouthy and if he was honest, too submissive at times thanks to the Beneit Gesserit and Chani had given in too easily to his love.

But Amaris, oh... she posed a challenge for Paul, a challenge he wanted to conquer, to fuck until she understood her place underneath him, to breed heirs into her. She looked like she could carry children well from the wide hips she had as Paul allowed for these thoughts to course through his mind.

He needed to see those cold eyes again, he needed to watch as they melted into fear, into desire, into submission. She would understand soon enough, the Fremen would soon find their Paradise here in this planet and that only left the one problem: Irulan.

"I believe we need to find a way outside of their reach", Paul finally said, "look towards their colonies and start at the weakest one."

And Paul had the perfect way to get rid of her and that elderly father of hers...

She heard the sound of the ocean crashing against the sandy beaches of her world, the smell of the salt in her nose as she heard a palm tree rustle in her ears. She felt the water licking at her feet, the wet sand in her toes.

"Together, we could rule all this", a familiar voice breathed into her. "Together, this universe would bow at our feet."

A pair of hands wandered, grasping at her soft flesh as a pair of lips kissed at her neck, a nose nuzzling at her.

"All you have to do is say yes..."

Y/N felt hazy like her mind was underwater as the voice continued assaulting her with sweet words, their hands massaging and rubbing at her body.

"Just say yes to me..."

She turned her head and her eyes widened as she saw Paul, a dark look of desire and power in his eyes.

"Either way, you belong to me. It's up to you how many die along the way."

With a shaky breath, Y/N snapped her eyes open as she quickly sat up and looked around, seeing that she was in her room as her heart was beating in her chest.

She could still feel his lips against her body, his breath... still hear his voice in her mind.

Outside, she could hear the rumble of Draco, Aria and Perseus sleeping near her window; those three dragons probably curled up in a little scaly pile of cuddles that always made her laugh and right now brought her comfort.

Getting out of her bed, her nightgown fell around her as she walked towards her balcony, feeling the autumn breeze brush against her as she hugged her body.

The last Emperor had stood no chance against Terra M last night, but Y/N knew it was different this time. Paul had gained all the Great Houses and the Fremen, she had her army and the colonies, but would it be enough?

The colonies... she would check on them in the morning. She just hoped all would still be well in the morning...

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@ninastyless @james-bucky-barnackle @astarborntowrite @maggiecc @radiantdanvers @croatianprincess

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cleo-fox · 2 months

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Conquer

Part 1 of 3

Summary: The king intends to take a bride.

You just never thought it would be you.

(Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, enemies to lovers, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex (fem receiving), teasing, p in v sex, vaginal fingering.

A/N: I’m kind of fascinated by the concept of a soulmate AU where Loki wins and this is just another take on that thought. If you've read my fic Surrender, this one is a different universe (an AU of an AU? Is that a thing?)

I am indebted to @infinitystoner, who was kind enough to talk me through some of my doubts about this fic. This one is for you, K. (Also, everyone should go read her work, it's fabulous).

The king intends to take a bride.

At first you think it’s just a stupid rumor, but with time, it becomes clear that it’s not merely a stupid rumor, but a true rumor about a stupid plan. He hasn’t found his soulmate; the speculation is that this is about producing an heir or something similar. Which is also stupid because he’s the one who took over your fucking planet. He can make new rules for succession if he wants to. He doesn’t have to make other people suffer.

You, like most people, still harbor a lot of anger and resentment toward Loki.

You don’t know who he’s going to rope into this plan, but you feel bad for her already. Imagine not only having to be married to that monster, but being in this weird second place to whoever is unfortunate enough to be his soulmate. Imagine having to fuck him, to try and have his kid, all the while knowing you’ll be discarded once he finds his soulmate. Imagine having to go along with all of this and never being able to say what you really think.

The only person you feel sorrier for is whoever turns out to be his soulmate.

Later, all of this will strike you as absurdly ironic.

But you don’t know any of that yet.

You took a job at the hotel because you needed a change of pace after Loki took over. It was just a front desk job—you checked people in and out, answered questions, and said “let me get my manager” whenever there was a serious problem with a guest. It wasn’t glamorous or fun, but it was straightforward and you never had to bring work home with you.

The one thing that you never really considered was whether you were inadvertently choosing a job that would bring you into closer proximity to the man you were trying so desperately hard to not think about at all.

You probably should have considered it—you knew when you took the job that he did a fair amount of travel. You never really understood why—he conquered the entire fucking planet, you think he’d be content to just chill in his palace or whatever. But no. He was constantly on the move, constantly showing up and demanding to be accommodated, and people put up with it because what else are they supposed to do? You can’t exactly persona non grata the guy that successfully took over your planet and made himself king. If that worked, he wouldn’t be here in the first place.

You kind of assumed that he wouldn’t show up to your hotel—it wasn’t conveniently located to anything useful and while it technically had a five star rating, you didn’t think it offered the same caliber of accommodations as the places he was known to stay.

As it turns out, you were wrong on all counts. Hilariously wrong. Because now his steward is here in your hotel lobby. Or his…emissary? You’re not sure what this guy’s official title is. You recognize him from the news—he can often be spotted in the entourage of guards and staff that accompany Loki everywhere, but you don’t know his name. He is rattling off a monologue of sorts—the king requires accommodations, only the finest rooms, and so on. You feel as though you are having an out of body experience as you click through the booking software and confirm that the penthouse is available. You breathe an inner sigh of relief—it would have been manageable to evict whichever rich person had booked it, but it would have fucked up the cleaning crew’s scheduling for at least the next week and you know that corporate is already up Marisol’s ass about your location’s overtime.

You don’t really expect him to show up during this transaction. If you had, you would have said “let me get my manager” and washed your hands of it—you don’t get paid nearly enough to deal with self-proclaimed kings. But as you are booking the room (who the fuck are you supposed to list as the guarantor on the invoice? This wasn’t covered in your training), Loki storms in, followed by a cadre of guards.

You’re not really prepared to see him in person—that’s partly why you freeze. He’s so tall and well…real. It sounds stupid, but it’s jarring seeing him in front of you instead of on a screen or in a picture. He’s not exactly more frightening, but looking at him makes your pulse quicken.

He’s scolding the steward (emissary?) about something—you’re so distracted that you miss exactly what it is that has him so annoyed.

And then you realize that the mark on your left wrist is burning.

You swallow hard. No. Not him.

Loki looks up and his eyes lock with yours.

Fucking hell.

The wedding is a spectacle, to say the least.

Your dress is fucking ridiculous. Instead of the traditional white, you are draped in yards of green fabric covered in thousands of emeralds and diamonds and painstakingly embroidered with thread made of real gold and silver. It is very much a statement about who you are and who you belong to. You don’t care for it, but you don’t really have a choice—the details of the ceremony have been largely left to other people to decide. Part of you thinks they must have been planning for this for years, based on the number of things that are already prepared. Or maybe having access to magic negates the need for planning ahead.

You are much too angry to actually ask Loki about any of this. Not that you see much of him before the ceremony anyway.

You go through the motions of the ceremony, trying to keep your cool. It’s only been a week since he found you at the hotel, so the fact that you haven’t consummated your soulbond is more akin to an annoying itch than anything more disruptive, but when he kisses you at the conclusion of the ceremony, it's…intense, to say the least. The mild ache that settled itself between your thighs last week seems to swell, sending a fresh wave of arousal to your core. When he slides his tongue past your lips, all you want to do is release a wanton moan directly into his mouth and rub yourself shamelessly against him. The fact that you’re standing on a platform while the entire world looks on is really the only thing that stops you.

The fact that this is your immediate reaction scares you a bit. You know it’s biology—soulbonds are meant to be consummated isn’t just a saying—but there’s part of you that feels like you should have a stronger handle on that impulse. You are mad at him, you remind yourself. He took over your entire planet, installed himself as king, and then had the audacity to be your soulmate. Focus. Be angry.

You wonder if your family and friends are watching. Your phone ran out of battery the night after he found you and you haven’t had the heart to charge it. You’re barely managing your own emotional reaction—you’re not ready to invite anyone else into it just yet.

The rest of your wedding day is a blur. You meet a bunch of important people and retain exactly none of their names or roles. There is an elaborate multi-course feast and you manage to eat without spilling food on your dress, which feels like a small miracle. You meet more important people and somehow retain even less information. You dance—a few dances with important people whose names you’ve forgotten, but mostly with Loki. The sun sets. They bring out an elaborate dessert course. You dance again. Loki’s hand on your waist fans the flames of desire that you’re trying so hard to ignore.

Finally, you’re whisked away to prepare for bed. It took three people to get you into your dress, and it takes just as many to get you out. They help you into a nightgown that you also didn’t get to pick out—and in fact, it’s the first time you’re seeing it at all. It’s almost too pretty to sleep in, though you suppose that’s the point—you’re supposed to fall asleep naked and sated in the arms of your new husband (god, it’s so weird that you have a husband). You’re not so sure that this is the specific fate that’s in your cards, but you anticipate the nightgown will be coming off at some point this evening. In the interim, you look stereotypically virginal in white lace and chiffon, a glittering emerald pendant resting in your cleavage.

You’ve been staying in a guest suite since he found you, but tonight, they bring you to his rooms. Your rooms, you suppose. Somehow, you doubt he’s the sort who believes that husbands and wives should sleep separately.

The lights are on, but it’s quiet. You wonder if he’s even here.

You approach the couch that sits in front of the floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city. You can see fireworks and twinkling lights of different celebrations and your stomach clenches like a fist. It’s supposed to be in honor of you. Earth’s new queen. A title that shouldn’t even exist, let alone belong to you.

You turn away from the window and sit down on the couch. You stare at the wall, hands twisting the delicate fabric of your nightgown in your lap.

You hear a sound in the other room—his study, you think—and your heart leaps to your throat, practically buzzing with an emotion that feels like the strange cousin of anxiety and anticipation.

You keep your eyes locked on the wall as you listen to his footsteps draw closer.

“It’s customary to announce yourself when you enter someone’s quarters, you know.”

You pause for a moment before letting your gaze trail to him. It’s a conscious, obnoxious power play on your part—you are trying to show him that you still have agency, that he has not yet won your respect or admiration.

You’re not even sure that it registers, which only serves to irritate you further.

He is still wearing most of his wedding clothes, though he’s taken off the fine surcoat from the ceremony, exposing the soft tunic he was wearing underneath. He is smirking—that seems to be his expression of choice, you’ve noticed.

“Aren’t these my rooms too?” you ask. “Is it customary to announce myself in my own space?”

You are trying to be rude, but it doesn’t seem to matter: he simply laughs.

“You are spirited,” he says, looking you over appreciatively, stirring a wild and burning need in your hips, slickness collecting in the lacy white underwear that had been chosen for you.

“And you intend to break me, is that it?” you snap with more venom than is perhaps wise.

“Of course not.” His answer surprises you, though you are determined to not let that show in your face. “Your will is part of your appeal. I’d no sooner crush a rose beneath my boot.”

You are skeptical of this claim given the amount of damage he did to New York City, but your traitorous cunt throbs at his words nonetheless.

“I’m not happy about any of this, you know,” you say, hoping that your anger will act like roiling floodwaters on the firestorm of lust that’s continuing to build in your hips.

It doesn’t, of course. What’s worse: he laughs. Again.

“I’d gathered,” he says. “You are wonderfully unsubtle when you’re angry.”

“I mean, are you surprised?” you say irritably. “I didn’t even get to pick out my own wedding dress, for fuck’s sake.”

“This is the burden of the office, I’m afraid,” he says. “Your wants and desires are often secondary to the needs of the crown.”

You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from screaming at him. “I think you’re missing the point.”

“I think you’ll find I’m not.”

You let out one long breath. “Are you trying to irritate me?”

Another smirk. “I’m afraid I simply have a gift for it.”

You finally give in and scowl. “Great. This is going about as well as I had expected.”

His eyes drift down the column of your throat to the emerald pendant resting in your cleavage and then to the bodice of your nightgown. “Perhaps it’s time we concern ourselves with activities that require less talking.” He licks his lips and brings his gaze back up to yours.

“I’m not entirely convinced anything would stop you from talking,” you say.

“I suspect letting me bury my tongue in your cunt might do the trick.”

For the first time today, you are entirely speechless. The fire burning low in your hips roars into an inferno, like someone has poured accelerant along your nerves and Loki has struck a match. You take in one shaky breath, your heart thrumming in your throat.

“That’s what I thought,” he says with a dark sort of smugness. “To bed, wife.”

You steadfastly ignore the way your stomach jumps when he calls you ‘wife.’ Why is that hot? It shouldn’t be hot.

You’re tempted to argue with him some more—you don’t like giving him even the vaguest impression that you’re following his orders or anything like that—but one smoldering look from him has your heart pounding and another wave of fresh arousal flooding between your legs. You follow him to the bed, trying to keep your expression neutral and indifferent.

He pulls you firmly against him and you wonder if he can feel your heart pounding in your chest. There’s no space between you—you can feel his stomach muscles expand and contract with every slow intake of breath, the press of his slowly hardening cock against your stomach.

He tilts your face up to his and claims your mouth in a devouring kiss, and this time, the moan that you’d held back during the ceremony slips from your lips almost immediately. He makes a low growling noise in return, his hands sliding to the row of small pearl buttons that hold up the back of your nightgown.

You suspect that beyond aesthetic and functional value, the purpose of these buttons is to facilitate a slow, sexy reveal; Loki undoes exactly two and a half buttons before roughly pulling the edges of the fabric apart, the remaining buttons snapping from their threads and pinging against the floor.

You pull away from him, immediately annoyed. “Do you make a habit of ruining other people’s things? What if I wanted to wear that again?”

He laughs, tugging the fabric off your shoulders. “Perhaps you forget the extraordinary powers I have at my command,” he says, staring greedily at your breasts as he tugs the nightgown down your waist, pulling it off your hips so it falls to the floor. “I could tear this gown off you every night and remake it every morning with no more than a click of my fingers.”

Fucking magic powers undercutting your goddamn fucking point.

“Yeah, well, you’re still a jackass,” you say sourly, unwilling to concede the point any further.

His smile is sharp in a way that makes you shiver and he slips his hand into your underwear, his smile growing as he feels how slick you are. “It doesn’t seem to bother you all that much, does it?”

You try to keep your expression stern, but his fingers find your clit and you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips.

“Your sweet cunt is so ready to come.” He slides a finger into you and you whimper. “It’s obscene how wet you are for me.”

You bite back a plea and kiss him instead. His mouth is rough on yours, teeth nipping at your lower lip, tongue plundering your mouth. He slides a second finger into you and you keen.

“Yes,” he groans against your mouth. “Take it like a good girl.”

You clench around his fingers and your hands seek purchase in his hair. You tug on it lightly and he growls with pleasure before he pulls away, his hands moving to the waistband of your underwear and tugging it off your hips.

“Get on the bed.” His tone brooks no arguments. “Now.”

It’s tempting to talk back, tempting to resist. You are still angry about every aspect of this relationship and this stupid fucking wedding. But you know you need this—the dull ache in your hips is only growing more pronounced with every passing moment and the brief feeling of his fingers on your clit was nothing short of heaven. Soulbonds are meant to be consummated and your body seems to be doing everything it can to propel you toward that end.

You kick your underwear the rest of the way off before sitting down on the bed and lying back on the pillows.

He pauses for a moment to look you over, his gaze trailing lazily over your bare skin, his hand absently moving to palm his cock through his trousers. “Spread your legs,” he says. You do and you catch a breath of a groan from him as he stares at you. Your cunt throbs in response and you bite your lip to keep yourself from whimpering.

He allows himself one moment before he crawls on the bed to join you. He kneels between your legs, staring greedily at your exposed cunt, running a thumb along the edge of your folds. Your hips rock upward involuntarily, chasing his hand, seeking friction.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he murmurs. “So soaking wet, so desperately needy for my touch.” He pauses again, licking his lips. “I think I might need a taste.”

Your breath stutters in your chest and he kisses the inside of your thigh, slowly licking and sucking his way upward in a tantalizing preview of what’s to come. You’re already soaking and you can feel yourself growing wetter as his sinful mouth draws closer and closer to your aching need.

You’re not entirely sure whether it’s a moan or a whine that passes your lips when he finally licks that first long, lazy stripe from your entrance all the way up to your clit. He groans low and wanting against your cunt, his tongue rolling over your clit once more before he catches it between his lips and slowly begins to suck.

There is no getting around it: Loki is a pro at eating pussy.

It would be easier if he wasn’t, you find yourself thinking somewhere in the haze between orgasms. If he were mediocre, it would make it so much easier to be angry at him, to resent your current situation. This is not to say that you’ve abandoned your anger at all—you are still mad. But your anger feels so much less effective when he’s spent a solid ninety minutes with his head between your legs and you’ve lost track of the number of times he’s made you come.

He is—predictably—infuriatingly smug about all of this.

Your first orgasm arrives so quickly that it seems to take you both by surprise. And indeed, he lifts his head moments later, already smirking.

“That was awfully quick, wife,” he says. The glint in his eye tells you that he absolutely noticed how you reacted to that name earlier and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from scowling.

“Maybe you’re out of practice,” you say. Even as you say it, it doesn’t sound convincing (it doesn’t even make sense when you think about it later) and Loki laughs outright.

“I think not,” he says, carefully sliding one long index finger inside of you. “I think your poor cunt has been sorely neglected, either by you or some subpar lover you took to ease the ache of missing me.” He adds a second finger and you bite your lip to keep in a moan. “I think you’ll be begging for me before the night is out.” His fingertips press teasingly against that spot inside you and you take in a sharp breath.

He starts lazily moving his fingers in and out of you and while it feels good, you know it’s not going to be enough to get you there. You suspect, from the way that he’s smirking, that he knows this, too.

“Do you want my mouth again? I don’t think you’re done.”

“You’re trying to be a jerk and I don’t like it,” you say.

He laughs and draws his thumb briefly over your clit. “Darling, I only want you to tell me what you want.”

Your eyes narrow. “Why?”

“I think you can understand the appeal of hearing a beautiful woman beg for your touch.”

His compliment immediately clashes with the suggestion that you begging for him is a possibility.

He smiles, catlike, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

“You need my mouth again,” he says, fingers curling inside you. “You need more. I can feel how wet you are, sweet thing.” His thumb presses against your clit and retreats as soon as your breath hitches.

“I could keep you like this for hours. Days, even,” he says, lazily stroking his fingers inside you. “I could keep you right on the edge, begging for your release. But I don’t think you want that. Even I don’t want that. I think you want to come again right now and I think you want my mouth.”

“I’m not begging you for it,” you say.

“I’ve only asked you to tell me what you want,” he says. “I’ve merely expressed that I find the idea of you begging very appealing.”

You want to smack him. With your luck, though, that would turn out to be one of his kinks and then you’ll really be in for it. Your fingers flex against the sheets.

“Do you want to come, darling? Do you want my mouth again?” he asks with a feigned innocence that suggests it’s not a loaded question, even as the glint in his eyes tells you it is.

You’re silent for a beat and then his thumb returns to your clit, pressing and stroking as his fingers curl inside of you. Your hips rock with his hand and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning aloud when he stops a few seconds later, his eyebrows raised like he’s expecting your answer.

This exchange repeats four more times. On the fifth, you finally break.

“Please,” you whimper. You sound more desperate than you would prefer, but your overwhelming need to come has quickly superseded whatever shreds of decency you have left.

“Please what?” he asks, radiating smugness.

You’re not quite so far gone that you can’t manage a scowl, which he only laughs at.

“I’m waiting…” he says, his fingers curling in a teasing way.

You know there’s no getting around this. “I need to come.”

He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, like he’s expecting more.

You resist the urge to sigh. “I need your mouth. Please.”

He barely spares a second for a wicked grin and a growl of praise that only elevates your need before he’s lowering his mouth again to your clit.

Your second orgasm is somehow even quicker than the first, only this time, you’re already whimpering for the next one as soon as you catch your breath.

Mercifully, he doesn’t lift his mouth from your cunt this time, though he does give you a wicked look that more or less says the same thing.

His fingers are wonderful, but you know they’re no substitute for his cock. And while he has made you come so many times already, the need to have him inside of you continues to grow, settling into a dull ache in your hips.

“I need you to fuck me,” you finally breathe as the aftershocks of your latest orgasm fade back to that ache.

He lifts his head for a minute. “I intend to, but I don’t think you’re done yet.”

Your eyes widen as he seals his lips back around your clit.

“I mean, I’ve just—fuck—I’ve just had more…c-consecutive orgasms than I’ve ever had before in my life, you’re—oh my god, yes—you’re not exactly leaving me wanting—oh fuck.”

He stays silent, but it’s because his tongue is working over your clit. You, on the other hand, are in the process of undercutting your own point. A few more strokes of his tongue and you are coming again, your hips jerking hard against his mouth.

He doesn’t stop after that, either—he draws more orgasms from you, groaning into your cunt when you pull on his hair.

Your pleas for him to fuck you become increasingly desperate with every orgasm, until he finally lifts his head.

“What was it that you wanted?” he asks with a smirk that tells you he needs absolutely no clarification whatsoever.

“Fuck me, please. I need to be fucked, I need your cock,” you say. You feel restless and desperate, the ache inside you growing with every passing second.

“Oh, darling, all you needed to do was ask,” he says, his tone overly cloying.

You’re not quite so far gone that you can’t manage a scowl. “I have been asking. Repeatedly.”

He laughs and begins to undress. You suspect he’s doing this to torture you—you know he could remove his clothes in one go if he wanted to.

He peels his shirt off first and your lips part involuntarily as you take in the firm expanse of muscle of his chest and abdomen, your fingertips itching with the need to touch him. You grip the sheets instead in the vain hope that it might make a difference (it doesn’t).

But even the enticing expanse of his chest is no match for what’s to come.

He removes his trousers with achingly precise slowness. You expect him to be hard; what you’re not expecting is the primal response that it invokes in you. His cock is long, thick, and hard, the head already slick with pre-come. It’s not just for you—it’s because of you.

You swallow hard as he turns to face you fully. You’re so distracted by his cock that you almost miss the smug smirk, which he makes no attempt to hide. He knows he’s hot, he knows he has a beautiful cock, and he knows that you are absolutely aching for him. It is profoundly irritating.

He wraps his hand around his cock, wetting his lips as he casually strokes himself once. “Do you want me?” he asks with the sort of tone and expression that tells you he absolutely knows the answer.

You could yell at him. The prospect is certainly tempting. But you’re not sure that it’s worth it, not with the way your cunt is throbbing with the need to be filled with his beautiful, thick cock.

“Loki, please.” It comes out as more of a whine than you’d like, but you decide that you can live with it.

You are treated to a particularly wolfish grin before he starts stalking towards you.

There’s a large part of you that expects him to flip you over and take you from behind, rough and fast and impersonal. But instead, he climbs on top of you and draws you into a kiss. It’s deep and slow and heightened by the heavy weight of his bare cock pressing against your belly, drops of pre-come smearing against your skin.

Your back arches and your right leg snakes around his waist, trying to pull him closer, urging him to finally ease the ache inside of you. But he takes his time, kissing you slowly, running his hands over your breasts and hips, rocking his cock against you, but not inside of you.

You don’t like begging—it feels too much like offering up a vulnerability—but it becomes increasingly difficult not to give into the urge the longer he stays on top of you like this.

“Loki,” you finally say when he starts peppering sharp, sucking kisses against your throat.

“What is it, my love?” he asks with a faux confusion that you can see through right away.

“You know what I want,” you say as evenly as you can manage.

“Mmm, let me hear you say it just once more,” he says.

“Please fuck me.”

You’re expecting another negotiation, another battle of wits, but instead, he gives you a rather sharp grin and adjusts his hips so he can rub the tip of his cock up and down the length of your cunt. And then, to your surprise, he lines his cock up at your entrance and slowly begins to ease inside of you.

There’s a part of you—a large part of you—that’s surprised by how careful he is. He’s gentle, slowly pressing into you, giving you time to adjust, his movements careful. He does this all in such a way that you might not notice if you didn’t think to look—he wants you to think that he’s not doing any of what he’s doing. He wants you to think he’s not thinking of you when he is, that the care and precision of his movements are merely a pleasant coincidence. You’re not sure how you know this, but you feel certain.

He waits to kiss you until he’s pressed fully inside you, and you realize this is another illusion, another cover so you don’t realize that he’s giving you another moment to adjust to him.

It’s oddly considerate—irritatingly so. The coals of your anger still burn bright in your heart, but they flicker for just a moment.

But then he begins to move and coherent thoughts flee your mind entirely.

He feels so good. You’re not sure if it’s the soulbond itself, the dopamine and serotonin, or if he just knows the perfect way to move, but the first thrust has your toes curling and that warm heat stirring in your belly. You’ve already come so many times tonight that it feels impossible that your body should be capable of more, but you know immediately that he’s going to bring you right back over the edge if he keeps moving the way he is.

And he’s showing no signs of stopping, either.

“Norns,” he breathes, pressing a kiss against your neck, “you feel perfect. So warm and tight.”

You shiver, your cunt clenching reflexively around his slowly stroking cock. He grins and presses his lips up against your ear.

“Do you like hearing how your snug little cunt fits me like a glove?”

You would prefer to be able to lie in this particular moment—instead, your body immediately betrays you and your legs tighten around his waist as your cunt shudders around him.

You can practically feel his sharp, hungry smile as he nips at your earlobe. “I can feel how much you do,” he murmurs. A devastating swivel of his hips has you uttering a gasping whine that you are not at all proud of.

“That’s it.” He’s swiveling his hips on every other thrust now and you know the moment he switches to that exclusively, it’s all over. “You’re so close,” he purrs with confidence that annoys you just a little, even in your pre-orgasmic stupor.

But then he swivels his hips again and you shudder before you can hide it and he notices…and does it again.

And again.

Fuck.

Your orgasm starts barreling toward you at an impossibly fast pace and his eyes glitter because he knows.

“You’re going to come for me.” It’s not even a command—it’s just a statement as he rolls his hips in those devastating thrusts.

You whimper, your back arching.

“Give into it. Let me feel you.”

One more push of his cock against that sweet spot inside you and you can’t fight it any more. Your muscles tense one last time and you cry out as you come hard on his cock.

“Oh, beautiful,” he groans, his eyes closing as he fucks you through it.

It seems to last a long time, drawn out every time the head of his cock drags against that sensitive spot that sent you over the edge in the first place. He pauses briefly to bring your legs up over his shoulders, which makes his cock hit a spot even deeper inside you that feels so good it pulls a strangled sob from your throat.

Loki groans, his pace increasing, one hand falling between your legs to rub at your clit. It’s so much, but it feels better than anything. You feel another orgasm rising in your hips and you whimper.

“Good girl, fucking take it,” he slurs. You can tell that he’s getting close from the way his thrusting is becoming more frantic, how he tips his head back and grips your hips even harder.

“Come for me,” he growls. “I’m going to fill your lovely cunt with my seed. Come for me.”

Your vision whites out and your back arches as you come. If you were capable of rational thought, you would be angry that your body simply obeyed this simple directive; as it is, it’s hard for you to process anything other than how good he feels inside of you.

You can tell he’s approaching his end and he’s utterly captivating to watch. His eyes are screwed shut, brow furrowed and lips parted as he lets out a low groan that makes your toes curl.

His eyes open in the final throes and he surges forward to kiss you. He moans softly into your mouth as he comes, his whole body shuddering.

You feel dreamy and sated as he slows to a halt, lowering his head to the crook of your neck. The restless ache inside you is finally quiet—at least for now.

You expect him to roll off you and fall asleep—the portrait of a cliche. Instead, he stays with you, the warm heat of his breath ghosting over your shoulder. You can feel his cock still throbbing inside of you.

You should push him away, reclaim the distance between you. You’re angry at him, after all.

But also…it feels nice.

It’s just the endorphins, you tell yourself. It’s hormones. It doesn’t mean anything.

You can feel the lie prickling at the edges of the thought, sharp and needling, like ground glass pressing against bare skin. It means a lot of things; you just wish it didn’t.

Be angry.

His lips brush against your shoulder. More of your muscles relax. It’s nice.

Be angry.

You’re tired though. It’s been a really long day and the bed is soft and the weight of Loki on top of you is oddly reassuring.

Maybe just for tonight. Maybe just this once you’ll allow yourself to fall asleep in his bed.

“I’m still mad at you,” you say. It feels too sharp, too strident. The lady doth protest too much, methinks. He doesn’t know you, though, not really, and so you can only hope that he misses the subtle catch in your voice, that little note of uncertainty.

“I’d expect nothing less.” His voice is slightly muffled against your shoulder.

Goddammit, why does this have to be so comfortable?

He shifts slightly, easing out of you. You feel the resulting mess vanish before it even hits your thigh. At least he’s considerate.

You scowl at the thought.

“Sleep,” he says after a moment. “You’ll need your strength to rage at me in the morning.”

“I can rage at you in my sleep,” you say as your eyes slide shut.

“I’m sure you can,” he says. “Sleep.”

And despite all your complicated feelings—your anger, the inherent feeling of ease you get from his embrace, your unease with your new title, your homesickness—you find that the pull of sleep is too tempting to resist and the world slowly fades away.

#loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson smut

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grimmcheems · 3 months

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What if Chichi died from the heart virus instead of Goku….

So I made this AU a long time ago but haven’t drawn it till now. Have a short fic in the writing with this concept but who knows when I’ll finish it lmao. Other than that, I see saiyan lore potential that Vegeta will share with Bulma that sort of explains Goku’s need to distance himself from everyone after Chichi’s death.

Saiyans are a ‘mate’ race, and since they initially were conquering planets (pre-Frieza), they usually died alongside their mates. So this left little possibility of one dying off on another planet while leaving their spouse/mate behind. It’s unusual for saiyans to die before their other partner, they are a pair species so they usually share the same lifespans anyways. This leaves Goku devastated and instinctively in a depression, along with the exception that he also isn’t like other saiyans, the usual saiyan would t*ke their own l*fe but he is just trying to process the grief of losing her so suddenly. Vegeta has only seen this instance happen like twice when he was younger and with his father handling it and explaining to him the biology behind it.

As for Gohan, he is devastated and goes through denial for a solid month until Goku decides to leave him with Vegeta and Bulma. He has to deal with his grief in his own way and without the help of his father, which makes him resent him for a small time until he finally comes to terms with his mother’s death and tries to understand his father and what he might be going through. On the bright side he learns a lot from Vegeta while he stays with his family and grows up for a bit with Trunks. Trunks starts to view Gohan as an older brother during the time he’s with them and they remain close later on in the story.

Everyone else (all of Goku’s other friend’s) is surprised and shocked at the news and they each feel guilty for not attempting to connect with Chichi beyond surface level interactions but they soon appreciate the little moments she shared with them before her untimely death, leading them to believe and later on confirm that she knew she had the virus.

Goku takes years to try and improve himself and find ways to provide for and raise Gohan before he finally takes him out of Vegeta and Bulma’s hands. The two are awkward at first but they quickly comfort each other before they arrive back in their lonely home where they last shared a moment with her.

Overall very angst lmao. Also Goku and Gohan are wearing versions of Chichis outfits, Goku is wearing the light green version of the gown I have Chichi in a previous art I made, Gohan is in her signature purple outfit.

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spockiguess · 11 months

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Breeding Jealousy Part 1 || Peter Quill x Fem!Reader

A/N: This took me way too long to finish, but here’s the first part of a two (maybe three, no promises) part series. Thank you so much to Sav for helping me edit and leaving very silly comments on my Doc. I know my Quill fics are so incredibly out of left field, but my track record shows that this should actually be expected! So hah! Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this even if it took me a couple of days. I’m thinking of writing a Peter x Male/GN reader, so let me know if y’all would want to see that.

Warnings: Smut, Use of Terms like Cunt and Pussy

Pairing: Peter Quill/Female Reader

Sure, you loved being a Guardian, but it definitely came with its hang ups. Be it the death-defying dance you had to walk every time you encountered another fuckhead with god-like abilities or the sickening injuries sustained from those perilous fights, being a part of Peter Quill’s infamous group of heroic outlaws took a heavy toll most days.

Lately, you’ve been finding yourself exhausted beyond comprehension and in dire need of release. So, after much pushing from Mantis and even Nebula, you decided to have a night where you let all inhibitions loose and finally got dicked down in the way you most deserved.

And that came in the form of you putting on your tightest, blackest, latex dress that just barely covered your ass and smearing on the sultriest makeup you could think up all to visit one of Knowhere’s many clubs. Being a planet made up of mostly outlaws, the people knew how to fucking party.

Excitement coursed through your veins, and you exited your tiny bathroom ready to conquer the world.

Futuristic black heels clacked against the metal floors of your shared housing with a resounding confidence as you traversed multiple floors and staircases, purse in hand.

You felt alive for the first time in eight months, and when you entered the common area, you acknowledged Peter–your captain and longtime crush–with a nonchalant wave, barely even bothered by the way he looked you up and down multiple times.

“Where’re you going?” Peter asked incredulously.

“Out,” You answered back excitedly, a wide grin plastered across your face.

With a shocked expression, Peter muttered to himself doubtfully, “Out. Yeah, right. Out,” before he spoke up again, “So where is this out?”

Pausing just before the door, you turned back to Peter, unwavering, “Korthax.” Peter spluttered, knocking over his drink and immediately rose from his seat.

“You’re going to Korthax looking like that? Why?” Peter crossed his arms and you sighed knowing your fun would have to wait until Peter’s little interrogation was over.

Deciding not to answer his question for now, you teased Peter, “Looking like what, exactly?” Peter just scoffed and motioned to your body, as if that explained everything.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you shrugged, “I’m just going out to have fun and hopefully sleep in a bed that isn’t mine tonight. Does that bother you?”

Peter scoffed again, completely unwilling to believe what he was seeing, “Yes, actually, it does bother me.”

This time, you were the one to scoff, “Okay, why? I’m an adult, aren’t I? I get to choose how I spend my free time.”

Peter wasn’t having any of it and crossed the room in a few long strides, getting right in your face, “Not when those choices could put you in a ton of danger.” Peter gave his best serious face but rejoiced internally, totally satisfied with his response. His argument had practically no holes, he thought.

“Right, because when we face off against literal gods, that’s fine. But when I want to go out, then it’s a problem. Thanks, I get it now.” You were being a little rude and extremely sarcastic, but at this point, you were fed up with Peter’s sudden interest in your personal life and how you conducted it.

Peter short circuited, his brain literally could not think of one smart response to that. With what you were insinuating, you were right. Peter himself constantly puts you in danger, so why is now any different?

Still, Peter wasn’t a man known for backing down against good logic, so he doubled down and got even closer, “Do you know how dangerous some of these people are? At least with the people we fight, you know what they’re capable of. Here, you’re at a disadvantage– you feel too safe.”

You were also extremely hard-headed, so you got closer as well, your faces just mere inches away from each other, “These are your people, are they not? You banter with them, you literally call them family. And now they’re suddenly big scary monsters just waiting to take advantage of me? What a crock of shit.”

Peter blew a big puff of air out of his flaring nose, obviously annoyed with your indignation at his abrupt prodding. Peter was backed into a corner, you were much smarter than people gave you credit for. Speaking harshly, Peter began, “Fine. You want the truth?”

You cocked your head to the side, your face sprouting a vicious smile as you rested your hands on your hips, “Yes, Peter, I’d love the truth.”

A minute passed before Peter finally began to swallow all of his anxiety and fears regarding his feelings about you, he reasoned it was about time to let the truth flow anyway. “I like you. I mean, I really like you.”

Peter spoke lowly, his voice a resentful whisper, “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since the first day I saw you. So imagine being me, seeing you, wearing that, and you’re talking about spending your night with some cheap lowlife when I’m right here. Now that is a crock of shit.”

Oh. Well, that certainly puts a dent in your plan. Well, fuck it, you thought. Taking Peter’s face in your hands, you pressed your soft, rouged lips against his and pressed your body against him, trying to communicate the utter want you’ve felt for him ever since you joined his ragtag band of misfits.

Peter groaned wantonly, his calloused hands flying to the seat of your ass and squeezing greedily as he deepened the passionate kiss. Fireworks went off in your head. It was all finally happening.

Peter’s tongue swiped against your lips and you opened them in hazy approval, letting him dominate your very being with not one complaint.

Soon, you had to break away to catch your breath. A single strand of saliva kept the two of you connected before it broke off and landed on your chins. A fog of lust clouded your minds and the only thing you could think about was getting in the other’s pants.

Peter was one step ahead of the curve though, and before you knew it, you were being hauled up and over Peter’s shoulder. With a yelp, you dropped your purse and your already short dress rode up even farther, leaving you shivering at the feeling of the cool air hitting your thinly clothed pussy.

Peter noticed this immediately (you swore his brain was wired to scope out anything even slightly appealing within a ten mile radius), and slapped your bare ass, commenting, “Seriously, a thong? How desperate were you?”

You slapped his ass in return, “Oh, fuck you.”

“You’re certainly about to,” Peter grinned wickedly.

Eventually, you made it to Peter’s cramped bedroom and he carefully laid you on his raggedy bed, admiring you for a long moment. Having abandoned your heels on the trek there, you teasingly ran one of your feet against Peter’s tented pants, beckoning him closer.

Peter hastily obliged and dove in, kissing you wildly as he bunched your dress above your hips and situated himself between your spread legs. His large hands traversed your mostly naked skin before his fingers hooked under the waistband of your thong and yanked them down.

You gasped and Peter took this opportunity to capture you in another heated kiss while his thumb slid through your slick folds and honed in on your throbbing clit. Moaning, you kissed Peter back feverishly, your hand coming down to grip his wrist as he rubbed your clit in slow circles.

Breaking apart once again, Peter kissed along the length of your neck before biting your collarbone, then soothing the mark with his tongue. Your other hand flew to Peter’s hair which you grabbed a tuft of and tugged. Peter groaned, pressing against your clit harder, causing you to moan in return.

Sliding down your body, Peter’s face aligned with your weeping cunt before he gave you a cocky look (one eyebrow arched, smile devilishly lopsided) and licked a hot stripe along your pussy, his mouth locking around your clit.

You bucked into Peter’s face and pulled at his hair even more, jerking at the vibrations his breathless moans sent straight into your aching core. Everything felt hot: your body, your soul, the very air in the room, you couldn’t focus on a single thing.

All you knew in that moment was Peter’s eager mouth licking and sucking at your most sensitive spot with a hunger unparalleled. The action sent a blindingly hot energy rippling through you, like an electric current traveling through a copper wire, making you gasp in pleasure.

Your fingers wound tighter into Peter’s luscious hair as you felt this energy ball up in the depths of your core and send radiating shockwaves that caused you to yell Peter’s name like it was a divine prayer capable of saving you from this sinful hedonism.

Wetness dripped from Peter’s chin as your body spasmed and that energy finally released in a seemingly cosmic explosion that sent stars reeling across the universe. Still experiencing the aftershocks, Peter came back up and kissed you long and hard, his hand coming to hold the back of your neck.

Feeling somewhat devious, you gathered up the gumption to lock your legs around Peter’s waist and force him onto his back with a blanket-muffled thump. Not wasting a second, you rearranged yourself so that you were now sitting between Peter’s muscular legs.

The outlaw was still wearing his faded jeans, so you made quick work of them by popping the button, pulling the zipper, and tugging both his pants and underwear down in one swift motion.

Peter smiled widely, chuckling, “Eager, aren’t we?” You grinned, watching as his dick sprang to life and slapped against his toned belly. It was big, in both length and width, and you wondered if you’d even be able to take half of it in your mouth.

You were a trooper, though, so you took his thick cock in your hand and retorted, “Oh, I can be bored, if you want,” mirroring his actions from earlier, you licked a wet stripe from Peter’s base to his tip, locking eyes with him before continuing, “That is totally do-able.”

Peter rolled his eyes, about to make a comeback when you hoped for the best and swallowed as much of Peter’s dick as you could in one fell swoop.

“Fuck!” Peter cursed, his hand flying to the back of your head and grabbing a bunch of hair.

Peter’s immediate reaction only fueled your intense desire to please and you took more of his length into your mouth, trying to stop your gag reflex the moment his cock hit the back of your throat. Curly brown hairs tickled your nose once you reached the hilt, and you soothingly rubbed the sides of Peter’s thighs before resting your hands on his, pushing down to signal that you would really like to be face-fucked.

Peter got the memo and swore again before bracing himself against the bed. Not a moment passed before your mouth was being used like some sort of personal masturbator and tears quickly filled your eyes as Peter’s dick ravaged your throat.

What kept you going was hearing Peter’s utterly indecent moans and achy whines as he got himself off, desperately chasing his own nearing climax.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Peter whined, head falling back against his pillow.

Soon, Peter’s breath began to hitch and his hips pistoned into your mouth with such speed that it almost made you dizzy. Only a few minutes later did Peter finally still and pump hot cum down your throat as his fingers dug further into your hair, keeping you right in place.

Peter cooed, “That’s right, baby, take it all,” before he finally let go of your head. Catching your breath, you wiped some of the remnants marking your lips and made a show of licking it off your fingers. Peter was already getting hard again, but seeing that made all the blood rush from his head to his cock.

“That good?” you teased, climbing back up Peter’s body. Peter only nodded before kissing you deeply, you could taste each other’s essences on your tongues.

Feeling beat, you plopped down next to Peter’s still-heaving body after wrangling yourself out of your clothes and snuggled closely, burrowing your face into the crook of his neck. Peter decided to ignore his dick for the moment and wormed his arms around your waist, bringing you even closer. The sun began to rise outside of his window, but it didn’t matter as the both of you fell asleep within moments.

#peter quill #peter quill x reader #peter quill x you #peter quill fanfiction #peter quill fanfic #gotg #gotg3 #no spoilers #gotg fanfic #gotg fanfiction #smut #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy 3 #guardians of the galaxy vol 3 #fanfic #fanfiction

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delulu-archives · 6 months

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Love Me Lights Out (Jeon Wonwoo x Reader)

Wonwoo shook the planet with his iconic MAMA 2019 entrance — blue hair, red robe, dark evil gaze, and soul-crushing voice. He held a different type of power that day, holding you like putty in his hands in total surrender.

His possessive side was on full display when a certain someone got a little too close to you during the intimate and private after-party.

This can be read as stand-alone fic but this happened within Love in Vinyl universe/timeline. I highly recommend you give that a read. 💜

Note: Wonwoo x producer!reader, smut, explicit smut, dom/sub themes, AU, established relationship, penetration, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, overstimulation, multiple big Os, unprotected sex, fluff, unedited, 18+ Series: Love in Vinyl Inspired by John Mayer's rendition of XO.

Ready for it? 'Cause I am. Dear reader, here is the next part of our Love in Vinyl series. Thank you for giving your love to LIV, darlings. Who wouldn't love to see Wonwoo's possessive side? Shameless, explicit smut, everyone. Some dom/sub themes, reader was weak and whipped for Wonwoo's gentle dominance. Plus some tooth-rotting fluff bonus ending. 😌💜 Yuletide and In the Soop 2 shots coming soon, darlings.

I pour my blood, sweat, tears, and delulu dusts to write this. Please help me protect my work while reaching more delulu darlings who may find escape here, too. 💜 Word count: 7,360 Cross-Posted on AO3

Your love is bright as ever Even in the shadows Baby, kiss me Before they turn the lights out Your heart is glowing And I'm crashing into you Baby, kiss me kiss me Before they turn the lights out Before they turn the lights out Baby, love me lights out In the darkest night I'll search through the crowd, Your face is all that I see I'll give you everything Baby, love me lights out Baby, love me lights out We don't have forever Baby, daylight's wasting You better kiss me Before our time has run out Nobody sees what we see They're just hopelessly gazing Baby, take me take me Before they turn the lights out Before time has run out Baby, love me lights out I love you like XO You love me like XO You kill me, girl, XO You love me like XO In the darkest night I'll search through the crowd, Your face is all that I see I'll give you everything Baby, love me lights out You can turn my lights out

Manic. That's always your answer whenever junior producers ask you what awards shows are like based from your experience.

That year, you expected it to be different in various ways. 2019 was the year when K-Pop continued growing its footprint and reaching global scale, one group at a time. The year changed the trajectory of how k-pop was perceived and received especially with western audiences, and you saw it first hand.

Over the past six years, you had always been present behind the scene with BTS as they painstakingly conquered these awards shows, culminating their effort and hardwork during such tedious times. You shared tears and joys with them, especially during MAMA 2018 when they gave such powerful reminder on how tough the industry could be. Hoshi and Seungkwan even shared with you that they were fighting back tears especially when J-Hope started crying during the speech. You knew how much Seventeen could relate to BTS and you also saw how BTS also supported Seventeen during their starting years, given that their roots were alike - both groups were self-made, both were their respective company's saving grace.

BTS used to practice in dank, murky practice room that was often flooded, while Seventeen used to tape regular earphones so they could have make-shift in-ear monitors during their first performances. Both groups conquered those adversaries, started from rock bottom and climbed their way to the top with Blood, Sweat, and Tears. You could not be more proud to see those groups you love shine in one stage once more.

December was for awards shows and both sides of your coin were busy with their respective performances, with BTS ending their last leg of Love Yourself tour and Seventeen ending the first leg of their Ode to You tour.

You were just supposed to just be in the audience that day, hoping to just enjoy and watch the show without working. You were excited to watch their performances after seeing glimpse of it during rehearsals and you really needed your break already.

You requested the month off few months before, knowing just how restless the year was for you as part of the creatives team of these groups. While your job was mainly around their variety contents and documentaries, supporting touring groups also meant you were flying across the globe when needed, too. Apart from that, it was already apparent that the acquisition would be made formal and official the following year - it was long time coming. You already assumed backlash would happen and as someone who already faced such with BTS alone, the artists' welfare was always your top priority. Business decisions would be made, but you were determined to ensure that Seventeen would feel even more at home with your plans for the following year. You knew that the creatives and think-tank would be required to work twice as hard to ensure that contents and shows would be even grander both for the artists and the fans.

Your supposed break during MAMA 2019, however, did not come into fruition. You received a call from one of BTS' senior producers a week prior and pleaded you to cover for him during the show to film and produce the behind the scene of the show for BTS. The producer had to take time off as his wife had to give birth prematurely and you did not have the heart to deny the request. So, you brought your work stuff along with you and flew to Nagoya two days prior the show without telling your boyfriend that he might just see you spinning in the backstage.

Your call time for the show was at 7:00 AM. With various performances, it was pivotal to have everyone around and ready before the rehearsals and pre-show shoots commence.

You arrived just in the nick of time, already huddled with your assigned camera directors and assistant producer to discuss how things should run. You spent the whole night reviewing the production guide sent to you and polishing it with the timelines of that day's show so there would be smoother coverage and to avoid causing too much distraction during the busy day.

BTS arrived an hour later so they can prepare under their make-up chairs while the show floor directors were instructing everyone. You remained quietly hiding on the side, typing away and monitoring the footages being taken by one of your cameramen. Once the show's PD left, finally revealed youself earning a booming scream from Hoseok who was shocked to see you there. The team held you one by one, saying they missed you as the last time they saw you last was early October.

"Happy birthday, WWH!" You greeted when Jin entered the dressing room after washing up.

"Woaaah!! What are you doing here? Are you here to film? Waaah, you can't make me do silly things today it's my birthday." The man exclaimed, followed by his windshield wiper laugh and gave you a quick hug.

Your presence was always familiar so being there was business as usual, seven years and counting.

Wonwoo messaged you a little later saying that they were already on the way to the venue and that he was excited to see you in the audience. You spent the whole night talking on the phone with him thinking your flight was in the morning of that day. Little did he know, you were already in the venue working your ass off.

Nothing can ever match how loud Seventeen is. When they arrived, everyone knew it was them, hollering in the background as they greeted everyone with such bright, contagious energy and entered their dressing room across BTS'.

You excused yourself from your team so you can greet your other family, silently walking towards their dressing room, index finger on your lips to shush the others who saw you to stay quiet as you approached your blue-haired man leaning against the door frame. He was busy typing on his phone, eyes still heavy as he rubbed them while yawning. Your phone vibrated and a messaged flashed on the screen.

"We're here, baby. See you later."

You held back a chuckle. Finally standing behind him, you answered his message by muttering a cheerful, "I know."

Wonwoo turned in a flash, eyes widening and hand covering his mouth when he saw you standing there. "Woah!"

"Good morning, babe." Wide smile painted your face at his reaction.

"H-how?" He inquired, heart fluttering at your presence as he held your hand and pulled you inside the dressing room, waving at the other members who were also surprised you were there.

"Had to cover for a PD due to an emergency."

"I thought you would be in the audience!" He spoke softly, shoulders drooping slightly when he finally engulfed you in a tight hug after a week of not seeing each other.

You just chuckled when he asked you a week prior why you did not book the same hotel as them, and you just made up some silly excuse saying it was for the whole 'audience' experience. They were in the same hotel with BTS and some other artists, and you were just in the hotel a block away, essentially cooped up in your room to avoid running into anyone of them before your surprise.

"I missed you. I am happy you're here."

"I missed you too."

You returned his hug and stole a quick peck on his lips while everyone was busy. "I'll still be in the audience once you're on stage." You winked at him and his heartthrob smile widened as he let you go.

"I'll look for you in the crowd, baby. I'll have my eyes on you alone."

He smirked.

Dangerously.

Seventeen was part of the last artists to perform, with only two performances between them and BTS. It gave you ample time to get a camera so you can go where the camera directors in front of the main stage were and watch Seventeen's performance, as promised.

Shivers ran down your spine at the chilling entrance, even when they hadn't even started the performance yet. You saw them rehearse couple of times, but somehow, everything felt new. The crowd went wild with ear splitting screams when the music finally started.

It was a dark opening, hooded figures in red with one person on the spotlight - Wonwoo. Despite his robe, you could see his broad shoulders and notice the way he ascended the stairs with such a different vibe and aura especially when he pulled down the hood, revealing himself.

You saw that in rehearsals, but somehow you were taken into another world. His eyes were cold as ice, staring sharply into the audience as he bit and crushed the candied rose. He held an intense gaze as he devoured the intro with his deep, raspy voice, officially opening their ensemble.

Wonwoo captured your attention throughout the whole performance effortlessly, even meeting his eyes from time to time as he smirked at you. You were helplessly drawn to his magnetic aura and familiar warmth and sensation filled your body. He was scrochingly and devilishly handsome as they broke the stage.

When their performance ended, Wonwoo saw you backstage gave you yet another salacious smirk as he retreated to the dressing room.

Such power he held over you.

Two bottles of ice-cold water did nothing to quench your unexplainable thirst.

To say that you were on an emotional high during the show was an understatement. You were ecstatic over the wins of BTS and Seventeen, quite teary even, because you had seen just how massive their successes were which were all very much deserved after their years and years of hardwork. Then, you were blown away by their performances, and of course, your boyfriend's stage presence.

After the award show, Jungkook and Mingyu hosted and organised an intimate and private party, and BTS, SVT, and only very few other groups and colleagues were there.

After freshening up in your hotel, you arrived at the luxurious and private roof deck bar where the party was, donning a simple black dress and a pair of comfortable heels. It was rare for them to see you all glammed up, given that as a PD, you were constantly in sneakers and comfortable clothing so running around was easier. Wonwoo could not wipe the smile off his face upon seeing you all dressed up for the party, as if mesmerized by you.

BTS, Seventeen, and some of their friends mingled and drank merrily. Jungkook and Mingyu were goofing around like bunch of kids. Yoongi and Woozi were talking about music looking like twins. Joshua, Jeonghan, and Seungcheol were with Taehyung and Jimin catching up while the others were chilling or catching up with the staff members. It was a joy to see them like that, even Wonwoo was laughing around and comfortable with them.

You noticed however that birthday boy was quiet in the corner of the banquet. Being an introvert, Jin had always found social gatherings quite daunting, just like your boyfriend.

While Wonwoo was busy with his members, you joined Jin by the corner of the banquet hall, drinking your second glass of margarita that day.

"Why are you not socializing? It's supposed to be your birthday."

Jin just shook his head and laughed, saying it was not his forte. And you understood that. You spent some time catching up with him until Jimin approached you, pulling the two of you to the floor to dance.

"I am so tired, Jimin.." you complained but the man just smirked, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Just one song!" He insisted, twirling you around.

Jimin always had that flirtatious flair with everything he does. It was not as though he was flirting with you blatantly, but he always liked making you blush for sure.

"I heard you have a boyfriend, Y/N." His full lips curled up into a smirk as if pleased to have caught you off guard.

"Why? Were you surprised?"

"Mhm, you could say that. You denied me once before." Jimin teased, reminding you of his attempt to woo you years back, and it made you throw your head and chuckle.

"We were too young then."

Jimin just smirked and nodded pulling you closer as you danced with your other friends before you finally freed your self about a minute or two later.

From a distance, though, Wonwoo was intently observing at how Jimin was looking at you, and he did not like it at all. His gaze was poisonous, lethal, even.

You joined the group where your boyfriend was and he immediately looped his arm around your waist and drew you against his side as if showcasing that you were his.

"Hi love," he mumbled, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead which took you aback. He never was that comfortable doing that in front of others before, but you could not deny that the bold gesture made your heart flutter.

"Hey. You drank a lot already."

"No, not yet." He smirked down at you, his attention solely on you as he rubbed your back gently. "You having fun? Or are you tired and want to go home?"

One of the many things you love about Wonwoo is that he is always sensible. He has always been sensitive about how you are feeling because he pays attention to you and somehow naturally senses how you feel.

You smiled up at him and pressed your body closer to him.

"Maybe we can leave earlier? You had a long day." He added, tucking a strand of your loose hair behind your ear and caressing your face. Such unusual gesture from him, especially in front of your friends and other people though they were busy. At one point however, Wonwoo shifted his gaze and you were in the right mind to follow its direction. That was when you finally realized it - Wonwoo was looking at Jimin who was watching the two of you, and he was asserting his edge on the situation. Your boyfriend's innate possessive side got triggered with how flirty Jimin was with you earlier, one thing you should've considered sooner.

"I'd love that." You answered, wrapping your arm around his back as well, as if a silent reminder to ease the building storm inside him.

Few moments later, you had to excuse yourself so you can go to the empty ladies room, only for Wonwoo to tail behind you quietly.

Wonwoo stood up from the leaned position he was in against the wall as he waited and walked up to you when you left that bathroom. He placed his hands on your shoulders slightly and pushed you playfully back inside, guiding you into a cubicle, locking the door behind you as he snaked his hands over the fabric of your dress, placing his forehead lightly against yours.

"Hey! We might get caught!" You shushed, looking him with wide eyes as your knees wobbled from his gentle teasing.

"Don't pretend like you don't know I've wanted to get you alone since this morning." He whispered softly as he placed a trail of kisses over your skin, from your cheeks and down your neck before capturing your lips in a searing kiss. "And it seems like it's not just me who wants you." His voice muffled against his demanding kiss which made you melt against his arms which were looped around you possessively.

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on, babe. You know what I am talking about." He growled under his breath, chasing your lips for more when you started pulling away slightly, pressing your hands against his chest.

"Baby. Babe... listen."

He just gave you a cheeky smirk, chuckling at the worried look on your face as you wiped your smeared lipstick off his lips.

"Hm?"

"Wonwoo."

He arched his brow, "What?"

"It's too risky here!" You basically pleaded, arms wrapping around his shoulders, caressing the back of his neck. Nodding and surrending, he pecked your lips hard one last time before pulling away.

Wonwoo understood. Despite being open about your relationship among your friends and colleagues, your number one goal was to avoid any rumour or scandal especially that you were not within your private space where you can do anything you want.

"I'll go first. You need to fix your lipstick." He teased, opening the door of the cubicle for you.

"Yeah, thanks for that."

You rolled you eyes and watched him check the corridor to ensure the coast was clear before leaving you in the ladies room and returning to the banquet.

Releasing the pent-up breath you had been holding, you fanned yourself and looked at your flushed face and messed-up makeup from the mirror.

You were unsure what your boyfriend consumed that day that made him ever brazen.

Maybe it was the rose.

After trying your best to retouch post the encounter in the bathroom, you joined the group, sitting beside your boyfriend who was already yawning. One by one the people were already dispersing so Wonwoo took that opportunity to say goodbye, and you also did. You greeted and hugged everyone, including Jimin, who held you a little tighter as if trying to provoke Wonwoo even more with his playful antics. You knew it was nothing but you pulled away and shook your head at him.

"Let's go, Y/N." Wonwoo held out his hand and twined it with yours, and, despite the stern expression of his face, gave Jimin a courteous nod.

One of their managers and a security personnel were assigned to drive you back to the hotel where they were staying, and you were really impressed by the level of security and privacy hotels like that offered.

"We need to book another room, I share with Mingyu." Wonwoo spoke when you settled inside the car.

You smirked at him, waved your spare keycard, and gave it to him. "Done."

You somehow expected this even before the show, so you also paid for a room reservation online a day before your arrival, and checked in a few things there before going to your other hotel. You checked out of the hotel you stayed in and transferred some of your belongings to your room in their hotel before heading to the party that night.

Smirking in delight, he took the keycard and leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, "That's my good girl."

You entered the hotel separately with him guided to his room by his manager and you going straight into yours. You gave him the spare keycard anyway in case he decides to visit you, which you were looking forward to, if you were being completely honest.

When you entered your room, you quickly went to the bathroom to run the hot water for a much needed shower after that long day of work.

You turned the shower on and adjusted the setting, running your hands under the cascading water to check the temperature. Almost immediately, your whole body ached to feel the soothing warm water and you even hummed in excitement.

Turning to undress, you jumped upon seeing your boyfriend by the door of the bathroom, eyes dark and wanting as he watched you.

"What the hell, Wonwoo! You'd give me a heart attack!" You exclaimed, clutching your chest while he only grinned at you.

Mischief and danger hid behind that smile he gave as he locked the bathroom door and stood behind you, meeting your gaze in the slightly fogged up mirror.

"Let me help you with that," He mumbled under his breath as lips hovered against your skin when he took the clasp of the necklace you were removing form your hand.

All the while, he was staring intently at you, his usual warm almond eyes were sharp and a lopsided smirk tugged against the corner of his lips. He was teasing you, playing with fire and fuelling yours.

He reached behind you and placed the necklace on the countertop, bracing himself against the cold marble and caging you in between his arms.

Then, he crashed his lips against yours, roughly, like he never did before.

Your knees were weak and as if under a spell, you were in complete surrender, wrapping your arms around him when he tilted your head by your chin and plundered your mouth with his tongue, deepening the kiss and making you want more.

Whimpers left your lips when he sucked your lower lip then pulled away with a loud smacking sound.

"Take your clothes off for me, baby." He ordered, stepping back and watching you. "Go on, don't make me wait.

Those words coming from such perfect face and deep voice, were hypnotizing enough, making you obey without a word. Still looking at his eyes, you fiddled the hem of your dress and peeled it off, leaving you in your matching light blue undergarments.

"Seems like you've been waiting for me all day, too, love." He growled at the sight of you in his favourite colour, seizing you against his body before and tracing kisses down to the valleys of your breasts and then towards your lips once again.

"Now be a good girl and undress me." He mumbled against your lips, not letting you go as you unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his body. Then, you worked on his belt, button, and zipper, letting his pants pool into his feet which he quickly kicked away.

He shoved you inside the glass partition under the shower head with your body glued together, his lips finding purchase against your skin, making your core throb with a familiar ache.

Wonwoo pinned you against the cold, tiled wall and snaked his hand inside your panties, feeling your wet, warm core as his middle and ring fingers circled your sensitive nub. He was eager. As if wanting to prove something with his sudden brute force.

"My needy girl... so wet and I haven't even done anything..."

"W-wonwoo -" You stuttered, gripping against his biceps trying to steady yourself from his sudden teasing.

"Who are you this wet for, Y/N?"

You whimpered when he paused, making your knees buckle and thigh press together.

"Baby please..."

"So needy..." He growled, using his other hand to dip and pull a cup of your bra, and then sucked your taut, aching nipple.

"S-shit!"

"Mmm."

You quivered, eyes closed as you tried keeping your pleasure at bay, which was impossible when his fingers started teasing your slit with gentle strokes towards your clit.

"Look at me in the eyes and tell me who this is for..."

You met his lustful gaze and gulped, "Y-you."

"Say it... say who makes you shiver with need." He licked his lower lip as he pressed his fingers against your pulsating clit. He was enjoying his power play, you could see the way his eyes darkened as you shivered from his relentless teasing.

"Wonwoo... you Wonwoo... Please."

"Yeah... I am the only one that can make you this wet and needy, right?"

"Yes, just you..." You nodded eagerly, closing your eyes and crying out as he went down on his knees, ripped your panties, and finally devoured your aching, dripping core as water cascaded against your bodies.

"My good girl... don't hold back, baby, let me hear you."

He did not need to tell you. Moans and whimpers left your lips at his expert teasing, sucking and licking your sensitive bud. His tongue lapped at your core, tracing your entrance repeatedly and then drawing figure-eights against your clit while pushing his fingers inside you, curling and searching for that erogenous zone that always made you squirm in pleasure.

His moans were muffled against your sex when your climax coursed through your body quicker than you anticipated, making you nearly lose your balance as you cried out his name.

"Fucking hell..." You slurred, catching your breath and steadying yourself from the sudden outburst of pleasure.

Wonwoo looked pleased - he had his proud smile when he rose and kissed you, squeezing your ass and pressing your close to him.

"We're not done yet." He said with such ease before ever so casually reaching for the shampoo bottle and started washing your bodies as you came down from your high.

Wonwoo lathered your shower gel against your body in the most sensual, teasing way possible. His hand glided through your skin, massaged your breasts and tweaked your nipples, and caressed down to your stomach, your core, and your aching limbs. Every second was intentional seduction, keeping you on the verge with desire.

He allowed you to do the same, palming his whole body down to his hard shaft, pumping him up and down with your soapy hand which made him twitch against your touch until he could take it no longer. He rinsed your bodies with such urgency and once done, pushed your naked body towards the room and the bed.

"Sit." He commanded. Droplets of water trickled against your skin from your still soaked hair as he stood before you and as you pat your body with a towel, then squeezed water from your hair.

He took the towel from you and threw it away, then grabbed your hair to force your head upwards when he leaned in to ravage your mouth with ardent kisses.

Need once again simmered inside you and you reached out for him, wanting to feel him closer and relieve whatever ache he was causing. He drew away and stood in between your legs, his shaft standing long and hard in front of you.

"See what you do to me, Y/N?" He asked, holding the back of your head as you looked up at him and nodded. Your mouth watered at the sight of his beautiful, perfect cock all erect for you. Your core throbbed, needing him so bad.

"Let me see what your pretty little mouth can do."

You normally know what to say but seeing his dominant side made you tongue-tied. While there were rough encounters since your first time, Wonwoo rarely talked in such a manner. He was always a man of few words but eager actions, even in bed. He rarely even cursed but he seemed to do whenever you were in the throes of passion. This time showed a side of him you were already becoming drawn to, evident with the way you seem to surrender under his control so easily.

Eyes peering at him, you licked his polished length from base to tip, running your tongue around the bulbous head of his sizable cock. You slowly took him deep inside your warm mouth, eliciting a loud groan from him.

"Fuck, that's my good girl..." He moaned, looking down at you and pushing your head further down his length so you can take him deeper. "More baby... let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours..."

Carnal desire awakened inside him when he saw you like that, both hands gripping the base and massaging his sacs, as he hit your throat while you bob your head up and down his needy cock. Your eyes watered as you gagged, but it only seemed to further entice him. He tightened his grip on your hair as he increased the pace, your eyes still focused on him as you heed his commands.

"You look so good taking me like that, letting me fuck your mouth... ah such good girl." He panted for air, hips thrusting one last time before pulling away. Watching you wipe your mouth, he beckoned you to stand and kissed you before turning you around to face the bed.

"On your hands and knees for me, baby." He mumbled, lips brushing against your ear as he shoved you flat in your tummy back into the bed.

In a blink, you were on all fours in the middle of the bed, heart racing and eagerly ancipating his next move, until a loud, hard spank landed on your ass sending you reeling forward from the impact.

"WON - ah!"

You yelped at the tingling sensation, both pain and pleasure present at the unexpected action, making you bury your face against the cloudlike pillows. Your mind was still processing the flicker of pain and pleasure, when the bed dipped and you felt fevered kisses against your shoulders, tracing down to your spine, and towards your still numb and tingling rear.

Wonwoo kept complete focus on you and your pleasure as he parted your knees and his tongue swirled and danced around your clit, feeling you move against him as he continued to bury his face between your thighs and grip your rear. A few more teasing motions with his tongue against your pleasure spots, he dove his tongue between your folds, exploring the depth of your core as your essence ran down his mouth like an addicting nectar. His forcefulness built as he pulled you closer towards his mouth, earning whimpers of his name to escape your lips, muffled by the soft sheets you were biting into.

"I want everyone to know you're mine." He stated again as he continued to taste you against his tongue, fingers stimulating your core until you were trembling once more.

The pleasure and his eagerness were slowly driving you over the edge, getting closer and closer to that glorious climax... until he pulled away.

"Wonwoo fuck!" Intense ache throbbed inside you at the unfulfilled bliss that was still at bay when he hauled you once again, yanking your weak body until you were on your back.

Wonwoo grinned down at you, running his hand over your body, tweaking your nipples while the other thumbed your engorged bundle of nerves.

"Won- hurts... mm... need to..." You arched your body against his touch as needs boiled inside you, aching for that high only he can provide.

He watched you so weak for pleasure under him, but he wanted so much more. He lifted one of your legs and placed dove-like kisses on your shin and down to the inside of your thighs. You jolted.

"Please... baby..."

"What do you want?" His lips hovered on your navel as he looked up at you. "You have to tell me..."

You swallowed the tears pooling in your throat, trying to hold out as much as you can, "I want... need you to... make me cum... please..."

He smirked. "That's my good girl."

Wonwoo dove to your core once more, fingers slipping inside your soaked cave and began to massage your sweet spots as his tongue continued to flick in quick motions against your clit. He would only be satisfied until he felt you shaking and making a mess of the silk linens that adorned the bed. His eyes looked up at you overcome with pleasure, a view that he would never tire of.

"Oh, baby... please mm.. so close..."

Your sounds of encouragement was music to his ears as you wriggled at his actions, feeling your core seeping with excitement over his fingers and dripping down his knuckles as he kept his consistent pace. Your legs delicately wrapping around his broad shoulders built anticipation as he craved to watch you explode in pleasure once more.

"Give it to me, baby." He growled, stroking that velvety spot inside your walls eagerly.

"W-WONWOO —"

You wailed and convulsed as a ferocious orgasm rocked through your body, the extent of your bliss filling you from head to toe.

"Holy... fuck!"

My good girl... you came so hard..."

Wonwoo filled your face with kisses as you came down from your high, hovering over you in between your thighs and wrapping them around his hips. He shifted the both of you to your side facing each other, with his arm supporting your head safely. He eliminated the space between your bodies and kept your legs around him, gripping your rear as he kissed you fervently.

"You're mine." He declared, staring intently at you and caressing your face. While his eyes were still dark with lust, you saw a twinkle of affection and unadulterated emotions behind them that made your stomach flutter.

"Say it baby... that you are mine and no one else's."

"I am yours, Jeon Wonwoo. Only yours."

He smiled at the certainty in your voice. There was never a doubt about it, but Wonwoo always loved hearing you say it and you always loved reminding him. Unable to wait any longer, he kissed you, lined himself in your heated entrance, and sank in deep.

And raw.

For the first time ever.

You nearly lost your mind.

You never thought making love with Wonwoo could be any more indescribable, but here you were, feeling every ridge and friction of his perfect manhood as he stretched and filled you raw over and over again.

"Fuck so tight... my sweet pussy... mine..." He crooned in his euphoric state, eyes closed as he gripped your rear and bucked, pushing himself impossibly deep inside your hot core. "You're mine, Y/N...just mine... Jimin can never have you... no one else can... mine..."

You drew away slightly to watch him, pondering on his words until you realized it. There was jealousy in the mix. While it has been a while since your last intimate encounter leading to pent up needs, his possessive side was also on an all-time high that day, hence, the dominance and the power play. It sent electric shock to your core watching him take you and hold you possessively - his eyes closed, brows knitted, and lips agape. He looked so good it should be illegal.

"I am yours, just yours Wonwoo." You whispered and kissed him lovingly, pouring out your emotions in that exchange. His pace increased as the slapping of your skin, the squelching of his cock, and the sounds of your groans and whimpers created music against the night.

You were in sync - mind, body, heart, and soul.

"I will fill you up so good, baby."

"Ugh yes - please... fuck me..."

Wonwoo savoured the feeling of your hot, velvety walls clamping around him without barriers as he hammered into you. His fingers buried against the soft flesh of your rear, squeezing you hard as he guided you to meet his every thrust.

"You want it, baby? You me to fuck you... full?"

His words were broken up between lowly moans against your lips as he pressed his forehead against yours, his hips slowing down and sensually rolling so he could feel every inch that he filled inside of you. His thrusts became slightly rougher as he pounded himself inside of you deeply, as if carving every inch of your walls as his. "Will fuck you so good baby... fill you up..."

Your body arched, revelling at the feeling of his huge length inside you, earning a loud moan as he took you wholly. He watched you lean back and as you did so one of his hands gripped your breasts, pinching and pulling on your erect buds while he wrapped his lips around the other, suckling and wanting to satisfy and please you as he picked up the pace.

"Wonwoo... I'm... ugh—" He landed another harsh smack against your ass sending a zing of pleasure straight to your core.

"Go on, baby. Be a good girl and make a mess for me." He hushed as he trailed open mouthed kisses against your neck and jawline and then your lips, tongue delving inside your mouth.

Wonwoo jerked his hips, pulled away completely and then breached your walls again. Hard. He flicked your clit with his fingers and orgasm blasted through you, scorching every single cell of your body.

You moaned his name, again and again, clinging onto him as his flesh continued ramming inside you while your walls molded around him tighter and tighter with your release.

"One more, baby. I want more." Wonwoo stiffled against your skin, as he bit and nibbled the sweet spots on your neck and collarbone. The feeling of your walls around him skin to skin, was like a drug to him, or a craving that he never knew he had all along making him greedy for more.

"Fuck... c-can't baby." You whimpered, high and overstimulated as he captured your lips in a passionate kiss.

"Yes you can. For me... yeah? Come for me once more... you can do it, baby."

Wonwoo purred, pushing you on your back, your hips propped up on a pillow as he knelt caged between your thighs and impaled you once more with a hard, determined thrust. Your drenched core coated his cock, making it even easier for him to glide in and out of you, no matter how tight you were. The in-drawing sensation of your pussy was driving him insane.

Sheen layer of sweat coated your bodies as you both panted and trembled, your legs wrapped around him and your nails raked against his back while he slammed his hips vigorously, urging both of your release.

"Fuck... my good girl... mm... gonna fill you up..."

"Won- "

"Mine..." He cupped your face and tilted your head so you can look at him in the eyes as he pummeled into you. "I love you... so much."

"Yours, yours... I love you so... much..." You whispered in between puffs of air, tears rolling against your cheek as he snapped his hips faster and rougher, making you cry louder. "Want your -"

"Yes, yes, baby... my good girl. You want me to cum?" He asked, nuzzling and groaning against your neck as you squeezed him in, a foretaste of your impending orgasm. "Tell me.. tell me you want me to cum..."

"I want...you...to cum for me..." You mewled.

"Yes, yes, yes!"

Wonwoo kept his pace until his hips stuttered and his cock swelled deep inside you, painting your walls with his thick, hot cum, wailing your name as his body collapsed with the mind-numbing pleasure. Your walls pulsated around him, clamping him in and milking every last drop of his release as you let him bask in his orgasm. "Yes, baby. Take it... Take my cum..." Wonwoo grunted drunkenly, feeling you so close to your release and when he buried his cock deeper with his remaining strength, you finally erupted with a loud wonton cry of ecstacy, toes curling and body shuddering under his weight.

"Wonwoo! Fuck yes! Fuck baby—" You weren't sure how it was possible, but your climax was even longer this time, all-consuming and earth-shattering and Wonwoo felt it rocking through him as you spasmed around him.

"That's it, baby...that's it..." He stiffled against your skin, fingers working on your clit as you surfed the wave of your climax, until you both came down from your glorious high, fully spent and satiated.

Wonwoo kissed you gently as he pulled away, cradling you in his arms softly, protectively when you whined at the empty feeling. "I love you so much... so good to me... let me take care of you, baby.." You could only hum and smile against the kiss.

You weren't sure what was happening few moments later - you were sore, overstimulated, and nearly unconscious. You reckoned you could feel him inside you for days. The next thing you knew, Wonwoo was parting your thighs, wiping your core gently with a warm, damp towel as he let you rest and catch your breath.

"We n-need shower... messy..." You mumbled, and he just chuckled at your state.

"Can you even walk, baby?"

"Hmm, I can. I just need some time."

He crawled towards the bed by your side and cradled your head under his arms and that was when you got to admire how utterly flawless he looked — skin glowing, tips of his nose and ears pink, lips plump and red, blue hair all messed up, and his neck and chest sweat-clad.

"I love you and your jealous ass." You declared, flicking his nose gently. "You know that, right?"

"I do. I love you." He nodded and cupped your face to peck your lips. "Sorry, love. Was I too rough?"

You hummed, looping an arm around him, "Hhmm. It's all good. I kinda liked it."

Wonwoo smirked at you, pleased with himself, and drew you closer, snuggling and savouring the post-coital bliss.

Before the night ended, you found yourselves back in the shower, making yet another mess and screaming each other's name.

BONUS:

It was a random decision on your end. You really weren't supposed to be in the studio as you were on a break which was long overdue, but you were bored and you hadn't seen Wonwoo for about a week. So, you decided to whip up some surprise and buy snacks to surprise the members and the team during the filming of SeungKwan Boo's Past Life Destiny for Going Seventeen 2020.

The team were gathered in a circle when you entered discreetly, all of them still huddled and finding their partners. Hiding with the staff members behind the camera, you saw your boyfriend being rejected several times, with the members teasing him that he doesn't need a partner because he has you anyway. Wonwoo looked extra cuddly that day with his white turtle neck shirt and knitted navy sweaters. He seemingly had high energy, too, like one of the junior producers told you. You loved seeing him like that, playful and excited.

However, you started sensing Wonwoo's slight unease and discomfort after few more failed rounds, and even the head PD that daysaw it, too. So, when he was finally on the chair as the last member to match, the PD requested you to surprise him to lift his mood back up. It was never something you would do during filming, but you felt it was needed that day.

You emerged from behind the cameras and quietly approached him, earning excited reactions from the team.

"No peeking yet, hyung!" Seungkwan exclaimed, with such contagious excitement, standing next to Wonwoo and ensuring he wouldn't turn around just yet.

"Waaah, nice Wonwoo-hyung!" The members cheered and hooted, making Wonwoo even more curious as to who actually came to be his partner.

"Why? Do I have many admirers?" Your boyfriend joked, then turned around, gasping in surprise and delight when saw you beaming and reaching out your hand to him.

"Waaaah!! When did you get here?!" Wonwoo marvelled, nearly falling off the chair while taking your hand and engulfing you in a hug as everyone cheered. You just chuckled and rubbed his back. He held you tight and breathed you in, immediately soothing whatever discomfort he was feeling.

"I bought you guys food." You smiled at him and pushed him back on the chair to resume the filming. He smiled brightly at you, blood rushing to his cheeks as he nodded and finally let you go.

Knowing you were there and right on time as always, his battery became fully-charged once again.

You are there for him, in his brightest days or darkest nights.

And he loves you, in his brightest and darkest moments, too.

224 notes · View notes

faulty-writes · 23 days

Note

Can I request a “Mr. Villain’s day off” fic..

The General x Human fem reader, who makes and sells stuffed animals in a little shop near the Zoo..

And maybe The General grew suspicious of her when he Sees “Red Ranger” practically abused her on her walk home one night, asking Reader to join the Rangers, because her family has a reputation for incredible combat skills.. and her flatly refusing, Reader even saying in a calm no shits given voice, and with a completely unbothered smile on her face.

“Well most humans are Asswholes anyway, we’ve been destroying our own planet for generations.. why is it so bad if the Evil League takes over the Earth?? They’d clearly treat the planet better than we have… I won’t fight for humanity, it’s shity.”

And then she just casually walks home..

Our lovable Mr. Villain is very interested curious about the Cute strange human woman..

So he goes to the shop she works at the next day to learn more about her.. and she’s in the middle of making the biggest.. Fluffiest.. CUTEST… stuffed Panda teddy-bear.. he’s ever seen… in that moment… he’s an absolute goner.

He’s smitten, lovestruck, infatuated.. She looks like an angel to him…. Also, he will make sure nobody but him will buy that huge stuffed Panda.. made by the loving hands of his “soon to be” beloved..

[ This is awesome, my first Mr. Villain request featuring the main man himself. Please let me know how I did, I tried to make the story interesting. I used the name "Warumono-san" because that's what I've seen other posts do. Not sure if that's correct or not. Regardless this was about 12 pages in Word, so I hope you enjoy it! As stated in the request this is a FEMALE READER INSERT. ]

You sighed before clenching your jaw and curling your hands into fists, practically feeling the steam seeping from your nostrils. This was getting old, and you were sick of Red Ranger constantly bothering you with his useless nonsense. “Aw, come on!” He whined.

“Will you shut up!?” You snapped, baring your teeth like a cornered animal. How could one human being be this damn annoying? How could he not take the thousands of hints you’ve given him!? No matter what you said or did to him, he only continued to pester.

Warumono-san smiled and looked at the plastic bag in his hand, the contents of which contained the goods he just purchased from the convenience store. Oh yes, he was eager to try the newest flavor of ice cream recommended to him by the convenience store worker.

It pained him to think that when he finally conquered Earth in the name of his mother planet and annihilated the Earthlings she would, unfortunately, perish. However, until then, he would enjoy her insights and the warmth her smile brought him whenever he walked past those double doors.

However, he stopped short when he heard yelling and turned to see two individuals standing on the opposite side of the street. His eyes widened when he recognized one of them was Red Ranger and his body tensed up. No doubt an embedded reaction because of his complicated past with the Rangers.

A sense of anger filled him, making his stomach twist. If there was one thing he hated, it was those damn Rangers who attempted to stop him at every turn from accomplishing his goal. ‘Yes…damn you Rangers!’ He frantically thought, ‘You will not stop our efforts to take over Earth!’

He was tempted, oh so tempted, to close his eyes and transform into his supervillain alias. The one with a menacing glare, cold-hearted aura, and dark clothing. ‘But tomorrow is the start of my day off,’ all at once that tension seemed to melt, and his shoulders relaxed.

As of now, it seemed that neither Red Ranger nor you noticed his presence, and so he remained spectating on the sidewalk. There was a slight concern that his ice cream would melt, but he assumed he had a couple of minutes to spare.

Red Ranger frowned, and the usual happy sparkle in his eyes all but faded. “B-but…tch…” pressing his teeth together, he couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit frustrated. He didn’t understand! Why wouldn’t you consider being part of the Rangers!?

Your family had an honorable and well-respected reputation for protecting others through perfected combat skills passed on from generation to generation. Yes, maybe you didn’t have the power the Rangers possessed, and couldn’t see the dark aura surrounding the enemy.

But it would be useful to have someone who could teach the Rangers the way of combat. His eyes moistened over causing the faint moonlight to reflect off them and a soft breeze came, ruffling his hair before he stepped forward. ‘I need to convince them to join us, whatever it takes!’ He thought before locking eyes with you.

“Why won’t you join the Rangers!?” He demanded, pressing a hand to his chest. Warumono-san’s eyes widened. ‘He wishes to recruit more Rangers!?’ The present number of Rangers was enough to deal with, how dare he try to recruit more.

‘Damn you again Rangers!’ His shoulders grew tense and his grip tightened around the plastic strap of the bag he held. ‘You and the rest of the Earthlings truly want to die!’ A growl rumbled in his throat, and he was prepared to intervene, even at the cost of allowing his precious after-work treats to melt.

He’d teach that damned Red Ranger and you a lesson. However, he paused when he heard your response, and it was so strange that it caused his lips to part and his mind to be rendered blank. What you said was unlike any response he would expect from an Earthling.

You knew that it may be unconventional and that not many would think or even say such a negative thing about their own species. But it was the truth, and it was a truth you learned the hard way. Through all the pain, suffering, and heartbreak you went through in this so-called, ‘life.’

From being forced to do things you did not wish to do, to feeling as if you had to do certain things out of guilt. It wasn’t fair! But that was the punchline of the joke. Life was not fair, and it didn’t care who it stepped on to get its way, and because of that you and everyone else unlucky enough had to suffer.

Red Ranger knit his eyebrows when he saw a smirk across your face. Placing your hands on your hips, you said, “Humanity is awful,” in a cold tone, “most of us that inhabit this planet are only killing it, and we can’t even show kindness to each other.”

His jaw dropped and his eyes widened, his pupils shaking with disbelief. “H-how can you say that Y/n?!” He demanded, curling his hands into fists. “The people here aren-” he stopped short when you held up your hand. Your eyes narrowed, and he shivered at the hateful glance now directed at him.

“What would be so bad if that Evil League you’re always talking about takes over Earth?” You demanded, taking a step toward him. “W-well, I…that’s-” he tried to come up with a reason, but you continued forward causing him to stumble back.

“They’d treat the planet better than we have. They’d probably even reverse most of the damage humans have caused!” You snapped, stomping your foot against the ground. “Ah!” Red Ranger cried out when you roughly grabbed the collar of his hoodie, forcefully pulling him down to your face.

“So, for the last fucking time,” you growled, tightening your grip. “I won’t fight for humanity. I won’t fight alongside the Rangers. Not for such a shitty planet,” you could hear him audibly swallow before he made the bold choice to wrap his fingers around your wrist.

“Don’t even think about it!” You repositioned your stance, separating your legs, and firmly pressing your feet against the ground. You already had a secure grip on his collar, and while his hand grasping your wrist may be a problem, your skills far outweighed the consequences of whatever he could do.

In one fluid motion, you pivoted and used the momentum to swing him off balance. As expected, he was caught off guard by this and the sensation of his feet lifting off the ground as he was propelled forward and over your shoulder.

Warumono-san watched the spectacle with his jaw dropped, he had never seen an Earthling cause harm to another Earthling using aggressive domination and force. He felt a sense of satisfaction wash over him when Red Ranger hit the ground and let out a painful grunt.

Silence filled the air seconds later before you towered over the man on the ground. “Idiot,” you mumbled walking past him, your steps a little heavier than normal. It was too late to be dealing with such stupidity, you needed to get home and prepare yourself for tomorrow.

After all, you had a business to run, and you couldn’t function without a proper night’s rest. “Heh,” Warumono-san clasped his chin, revealing his pointy teeth in a happy smirk. “I need to know who that Earthling is,” he concluded before his attention shifted back to Red Ranger who grunted again as he sat up.

His face twisted, and his hand rested over his stomach as if he had been punched. “W-wait…” he faintly squeaked out, reaching toward you with his other hand but you only got further and further away. However, because you were such a distance away, his attention was refocused as he suddenly sensed something nearby.

He turned, gasping when he noticed Warumono-san, and immediately panicked. He looked back at you. ‘No, I have to warn Y/n before-’ he went to get on his feet, ready to sprint down the sidewalk after you but Warumono-san cut him off.

Placing his bag of frozen treats down, a black whirlwind surrounded him as he transformed into his villainous persona. His hair now standing on end, and a menacing shadow cast over his face. A large dark cape now draped over his shoulders, weighed down by two claw-like hands.

The cape ran down his back and concealed part of a large black tail. His chest was exposed, and the strange blue-like markings that colored his waist and part of his pecs were visible. The bottom of his outfit remained the same.

He grinned and was quick to move, leaving behind a strong gust of wind that raffled the few trees embedded into the sidewalk. Their leaves rustled violently in response, and some even fell to the ground in the wake of the sudden shock of what occurred.

He grinned, amused by Red Ranger’s shocked expression. That innocence of wishing to protect another shining in his eyes, and yet regret overtook that hope. “Ah!” He cried out when Warumono-san’s hand grasped his throat and the ground underneath his feet disappeared again.

The twisted smirk on the other’s face was something he wouldn’t soon forget, and he desperately grasped onto the hand wrapped around his throat. Warumono-san realized he could have used the provided tail on his cape to render the Ranger useless.

However, there was something much more satisfying about holding the Ranger up with his bare hand. Being able to control his flow of oxygen and hear him choke as he begged for air sent a delightful tingle through his body. Yet, there was a more pressing matter at hand.

“Now Red Ranger…” he grimaced, allowing smoke to seep from his mouth as he pulled the boy closer. “Who was that Earthling?” He demanded, only to receive silence in response. Red Ranger clenched his jaw, opting to glare at Warumono-san instead of answering him.

When he picked up on this hostility, he tightened his hand around the other’s throat, momentarily cutting off his oxygen supply. Red Ranger’s grip on his wrist grew desperate, and despite feeling those nails digging into his flesh, he smirked yet again.

Yes, he enjoyed seeing his enemy struggling for oxygen. “It is clear she is not willing to side with you Rangers.” His eyes widened at Warumono-san’s words, and his jaw clenched, revealing his teeth which remained pressed together.

Was it true? Did you have no interest in protecting the Earth? Did you really want humanity to perish? No…he refused to believe it. He wanted to know what made you think that way, had you faced such unkindness that it rendered you to decide that Earth was not worth saving?

In his opinion, you weren’t a horrible person. You just needed a friend. Someone to make you believe in humanity again, and he wanted to be that person. His eyes focused on Warumono-san, taking in his happy but twisted expression. The man currently choking him wasn’t a horrible person either, although most wouldn’t believe that.

Yes, Warumono-san and the evil organization he was a part of were the Ranger’s sworn enemies, but he had seen and experienced firsthand how kind the villain could be. And if that were true…then could he not return that kindness?

Was protecting you the wrong thing to do if Warumono-san wouldn’t do harm to you? His eyes burned slightly, filling with tears that reflected the light provided by the streetlamps. When he noticed Red Ranger’s eyes moisten, a sign that he would soon cry, his grip on his throat loosened.

Red Ranger sharply inhaled, coughing slightly before he noticed himself being lowered back to the ground. “Huh?” He looked around, pressing his feet against the sidewalk a few times before looking back at Warumono-san who sighed and transformed into his civil form.

He leered at the Ranger who was now massaging his throat, a few tears slowly dripped down his cheeks as he attempted to regain his steady breathing. “Well,” Warumono-san stated, making the red-haired boy pause and look at him. He tilted his head to the side, exposing his sharp teeth, “What is that Earthling’s name?”

Red Ranger’s hands curled into fists, and once again, he debated telling the other what he knew. The internal struggle was clear on his face given his slanted eyebrows and tense posture and while Warumono-san noticed this, he didn’t care about how the Ranger felt.

An angry Earthling meant nothing to him. This, however, didn’t stop him from being caught off guard by the next set of words that left the Ranger’s mouth. “I-if I tell you…” he hesitated, and his lip quivered but he needed to say this!

“You...you have to promise not to hurt her!” He demanded, and part of him grew surprised to see the hint of humanity shine in the villain’s eyes. Silence lingered in the air, apart from the rumbling of distant traffic and the chirping of crickets and other insects.

He grasped his chin. He was uncertain why Red Ranger wished him to promise such a thing. Yes, his goal was to annihilate humanity and yes, he would feel bad for killing off certain people he had come to know. But you…well, you had struck a fancy in him.

Perhaps you’d be the first Earthling he’d spare from such a devastating fate. Pulling the corner of his lip up, he grimaced down at the Ranger. His stomach twisted with unease knowing he was about to bend to the other’s will, but if it got him the information, he so desired, it was a worthy sacrifice.

“Fine,” he replied, lowering his hand with the intent to shake Red Ranger’s. “It’s a deal,” he stated, and while he suspected the Ranger to be hesitant for him to keep his word, that suspicious stare of his didn’t lessen the feeling of annoyance.

Earthlings were indeed strange, even when you gave them your word, there was still so clearly doubt. This was unlike the people back on his home planet who would keep their word and keep themselves in good standing with others.

While his hand trembled, he managed a steady handshake with Warumono-san. However, he was struck with panic when he felt the pressure of nails against the top of his hand. “Now what is her name?” He demanded, having grown too impatient for Red Ranger’s nonsense.

“Mm,” even if he was still uncomfortable with this, he couldn’t back down now. “Her name is…Y/n,” his eyes lit up. “Y/n,” he repeated, although he wasn’t partial to complimenting or even caring about Earthling names, yours sounded so sweet on his tongue.

Red Ranger nodded. “Yes and…” he paused again, wondering if he should say any more. However, he had the other’s attention, and that grim stare only convinced him to continue speaking. “She…has a shop near the Uenono Zoo,” he stated, watching the other’s eyes light up.

He knew that Warumono-san favored the zoo, particularly the panda exhibit which explained why his eyes beamed with happiness at his words. Although he hadn’t informed the other that you made and sold stuffed animals, he assumed that would be self-explanatory. “Heh,” Warumono-san smirked, “I see.”

He planned to visit your precious little shop at his earliest convenience. He turned, his eyes settling on his bag of frozen treats that remained on the sidewalk across the street. He couldn’t help but frown knowing that they were likely melted as he wasted more time than he had anticipated dealing with Red Ranger.

“Thank you for the information,” he stated, walking across the street with his hand held up. “Huh!?” He stiffened and drew his bottom lip into his mouth, watching the villain grab his plastic bag filled with who knows what before walking down the sidewalk.

He continued to watch until Warumono-san disappeared around the corner of a building, more than likely headed home. He let out the breath he was holding but his relaxation was short-lived when he heard two distinct voices behind him.

“Wow, he’s lost again, isn’t he?” A high-pitched voice said. “Still can’t find your way around the block, Red?” He blinked and slowly turned to see Sora and Mugi. As usual they were standing close together, their hands interlocked as they looked at him with unamused expressions.

“Sora, Mugi!” He shouted, alarmed that the two were by themselves, and dropped to his knees, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “What happened!? Why are you out here at night!?” He demanded, his eyes wavering with fear.

“We’re not alone,” Sora replied, her tone somewhat snarky. “Yeah, Blue is following us,” Mugi stated, pointing behind him. “Huh?” Red shifted his gaze to see a tall boy with bright blue hair, and equally blue eyes running up to them.

He was wearing an oversized dark-colored hoodie, with jeans and black shoes. As soon as he approached, he leaned over, placing his hands on his knees. His soft pants filled the air before he swallowed thickly and glared at the twins.

“Don’t run off like that again!” He scolded before a sigh passed his lips and he pressed his hand against his forehead. “Black would kill me if anything happened to you guys,” he stated, lowering his hand to resume glaring at the pair who responded with a pout.

Blue’s eyebrow twitched, even if he tried, he would be unable to explain just how irritated Sora and Mugi made him sometimes. He sighed again, trying to push his anger back before grabbing Sora’s hand. “Come on,” he urged, “we need to get back before Black gets mad.”

The last thing he needed was a lecture about how it was past Sora and Mugi’s bedtime. Red watched the interaction before looking in the direction Warumono-san went. ‘I hope Y/n will be okay,’ even if you continued to reject the idea of being part of the Rangers, he didn’t want you to be harmed by anyone.

“You too, Red!” Blue shouted, snapping the other out of his paranoid thoughts. “Huh!?” He turned his head back, looking at the three ahead of him. “Oh, r-right!” He replied, running to catch up to them. Maybe a good night’s sleep would suit him well and take his mind off you and Warumono-san.

However, that didn’t change what he had said before. If anything happened to you at the hands of that villain, he’d make sure he paid the price. ‘A shop near the zoo, a shop near the zoo…’ he thought as he walked past the Uenono Zoo.

His desire to see his precious pandas was high, but he had a mission to complete. ‘Yes!’ he thought, ‘Pandas must wait! Locating the Earthling, Y/n comes first!’ His eyes scanned the area. ‘A shop near the zoo, a shop near the zoo…’ he repeated before resuming walking.

Several small shops lined the street near the zoo and made him come to a halt. He tilted his head, grasping his chin in contemplation, and ignored the strange looks he got from passersby. Yet another odd set of behaviors he noticed Earthlings engage in.

What was so fascinating about his appearance that their stares remained fixated on him even as they walked away? Well, it mattered very little. He would not miss those stares when the Earth was overtaken in the name of his mother planet. A sigh passed his lips as he lowered his hand and yet again glanced along the row of shops.

There was only one logical thing to do now. “Yes!” He declared, making the Earthlings around him stop and look. ‘That is it! I must visit each shop to determine if it’s Y/n’s!’ He thought frantically, bending his knees, and raising his hands above his head, ignoring the fact he was indeed a spectacle.

‘Now,’ he straightened his posture, leering at the spectators who seemed to shudder and quickly walk away. “Heh…” he tried not to let his pride distract him as he, once again, looked at the shops. He lightly tapped his lips, ‘Which one do I start with?’

He quickly concluded that it didn’t matter and walked to the first little shop on the left. His eyes immediately catch the delightful display of fluffy creatures, primarily teddy bears that lined the display window. His hand fisted into the front of his shirt, his heart pounding with excitement at the uniquely crafted plush companions.

‘W-what is this!?’ He pressed his palms against the smooth glass as he observed each teddy bear. There were varieties of colors and sizes, and each one was placed in a playful pose that beckoned him to take them home. He noticed the craftsmanship of them and the intricate stitching and embroidery that truly brought them to life.

Some were even wearing tiny outfits, with miniature hats and scarves while others had delightful ribbons around their necks. Like a present you would give away on the Earthling holiday, Christmas. He was at a loss for words as he contemplated which ones he wanted to purchase.

However, they were quickly forgotten when he gazed up and his breath hitched. ‘It’s Y/n!’ He grinned, his heart now swelling with pride. ‘I found her.’ He was prepared to walk into your shop when something else caught his eye.

“Hm!?” He watched you threading a needle before leaning over to pierce it through something, but not just any old something. ‘WHAT!?’ his jaw dropped, and his eyes widened as he watched you sew two pieces of fabric together.

One was colored white, and the other black. He knit his eyebrows, noticing that the fabric looked incredibly fluffy and almost defied gravity, standing out in all directions like a cloud of softness. Its dark button eyes shimmered in the light of the shop, and its silly freshly stitched together tongue hung out amidst its black-yarned smile.

“P-panda?!” Not just any panda, but the biggest, fluffiest, and cutest stuffed panda teddy bear he had ever seen or imagined. He was in awe as he continued to watch you create the stuffed companion, and his fingers curled against the glass.

You seemed unaware of his presence, and while that would normally work to his advantage, he wanted your attention. He also wanted that panda bear you were creating. He clenched his jaw, feeling a soft ache course through his teeth.

‘Yes…’ he thought, his hands now trembling. “I must make sure nobody gets the panda bear!” He pushed off the display window, stumbling as he ran to the door. He grasped the handle desperately and felt the weight of the door give way and a bell ring as he barged in.

The change in atmosphere was astounding, there was a certain warmth that surrounded him. The soft lighting that cast a gentle glow over the plush companions that lined every corner only added to the already inviting surroundings. The aroma of fabric with the faint undertone of sawdust filled his nostrils.

However, there was another scent that caught his attention. Something like a hint of lavender and cedarwood. “Hm?” You turned your head, the needle and thread still securely placed between your thumb and forefinger.

“Oh…” your eyes lingered on the strange man who entered your shop, noticing his black shirt, trench coat, and curly mess of hair that hid a portion of his face. Not to mention his long, elf-shaped ears. ‘Well…that’s some look,’ you thought, deciding to shrug it off and greet him.

“Heh,” you forced a smile and tried to muster the sweetest tone, “Hi, welcome to my shop!” His heart accelerated at the sound of your voice, and he straightened his posture. The odd feeling of warmth rushing through his cheeks almost made him think something was wrong.

For a moment, he wondered if this was a trap or if he had contracted some strange new Earthling disease. Had the Earthlings made some new weapon that weakened his kind!? Despite his internal dismay, he hummed in response to your words.

No, this reaction couldn’t have been caused by any Earthling disease. Rather, he suspected that perhaps unlike the rest of the Earthlings on this miserable planet, he had unintentionally selected you as the sole survivor when the Earth was taken over.

And the reason was that…you had caught his interest, or uh, curiosity but what would he do now that he was so close to you!? What could he say? Surely you didn’t wish to talk about the incident with Red Ranger, although that was the incident that triggered this situation.

Given that you didn’t know he had a connection with the Rangers or that he was present when you were interacting with Red Ranger, it would be unwise to mention it. In addition, he did not wish to lose something he had yet to obtain.

His eyes lingered on the stuffed panda you were currently constructing, and his shoulders stiffened. ‘Yes…the panda!’ he reached into his trench coat, pulling out his wallet. ‘I must make sure no Earthling purchases it!’ his steps echoed through the empty shop as he approached you.

“There, at least that section is finished,’ you thought, quickly cutting the remaining thread on the needle before noticing the strange man had approached you. “Uh…” glancing at him up close, you noticed just how tall he was and the slightly intimidating aura that surrounded him.

Although since you were trained in combat, you had very little to worry about. If he tried anything, he’d get his ass kicked the same way Red Ranger did. However, despite your assumptions about him, he caught you by surprise when he pointed at the panda and asked, “How much?!”

You were slightly alarmed by the panic in his voice, as if he were afraid that the stuffed panda you were working on was going to disappear out of thin air. In addition, it struck you as odd that a grown man would want such a stuffed companion. Then again, maybe you shouldn’t judge.

The man could have a family or knew someone who had children who might appreciate your craft. Of course, you knew your customers well and realized you hadn’t seen this man before. “Uh…what’s your name?” you asked, turning briefly to stick the needle you held back into the pin cushion next to the stuffed panda.

“Huh?” Warumono-san frowned. ‘What is this? Is she attempting to distract me away from the panda?’ He irrationally thought, gazing at the inanimate object before looking back at you. His eyes carefully scan you from head to toe, noting that your posture gave away your attitude.

Your hands were on your hips, and that ever-so-interesting hint of a pout on your lips, yet your furrowed brows indicated your annoyance. However, this only reminded him of what an intriguing Earthling you were, and a certain feeling overwhelmed him as he continued to stare at you.

Like a flutter of a hummingbird’s wings, his heart, no…his whole body felt light. “Heh,” he smiled. ‘Yes…well played Y/n…trying to distract me away from the panda!’ He thought, resisting the urge to frantically move his body as he normally would when consumed by his thoughts.

‘Very well, I shall play your game! But know this, the panda is mine!’ He swallowed, his grip tightening around his wallet. “Warumono-san,” he replied, his tone deep and authoritative. Given his position as General of an evil organization that set out to destroy Earth, he was used to speaking with certain tones.

Said tones were normally reserved for putting others in their place. Not that he was ruthless or unjust, no. But he wasn’t foolish enough to dismiss the idea that he deserved a certain level of respect, and even in cases where he did not receive such respect, from Trigger for example, he remained calm and collected.

Respect was earned yes, but you could not expect everyone to respect you. Yet, this ideology was quite amusing considering he found himself respecting you more than any other Earthling simply because of the way you treated Red Ranger and your opinion of the Earthlings. You blinked, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands moved from your hips and rested against your inner elbows when you crossed your arms. “Warumono-san?” You repeated, finding his name or what he liked to be addressed by rather strange. But this world was full of strange, stupid people. So, you shrugged, deciding to go along with the charade.

“Okay?” you replied, taking a breath. “My name is Y/n, I own this shop,” there was a certain bittersweet tone to your voice that made him concerned. Yet, something else took precedence at that moment. “How much for the panda?” He asked again, pointing to it, and noting your eyebrows furrowing again.

“This…” you sighed only being reminded that his behavior was odd. But he hadn’t done anything harmful, and he didn’t smell of booze, so it was safe to assume he wasn’t intoxicated. “This isn’t for sale yet an-” you stumbled back when he shoved a handful of yen into your face.

‘I must make sure nobody else gets the panda!’ His jaw clenched as he intensely stared at you. His eyes held an almost predatory glance. ‘I will not tolerate any other Earthling purchasing what was made by this Earthling!’ And when he spared your life, you could make more stuffed animals.

A stuffed animal for each of his comrades on his mother planet, oh yes! Your body stiffened, and you resisted the urge to grab his wrist and flip him over your shoulder and onto the floor. Pressing your fingertips together, you took a deep breath and felt your stomach sink and your body heat up with the slightest bit of anger.

Like a small match, ready to cause destruction if used correctly. Yet, you tried to remind yourself of the purpose of this shop. The stuffed animals that lined the walls and shelves were the legacy of what your grandparents left behind, as they believed you deserved an easier life than the one your parents tried to force you to have.

‘Right…’ you let out the breath you were holding and returned your gaze to the man who still held out a handful of money. ‘They wouldn’t have approved of me denying this man...’ your eyes lingered on his stone-cold face, ‘As strange as he is.’ Another sigh passed your lips.

“Fine,” you replied, taking the money from him, and quickly counting it. You glanced at the panda, knowing you could always make another one. It would be easy, like clockwork considering you’ve done it your whole life. “I guess this will do,” you said, folding the cash in half before tucking it into your pocket.

“But this particular panda isn’t going to be done for a couple of days,” you informed, casting a soft glare his way. But his reaction was not what you expected, it was almost like he hadn’t heard you. He remained standing there, with the strangest smile on his face.

Although you couldn’t see his eyes because his hair obstructed them, you could feel his stare and it was beginning to make you feel a little self-conscious. “Um…” you crossed your arms. “Hello?” You said, unaware that Warumono-san was simply beaming with happiness.

Not only did you agree to give him the precious panda but knowing that it was made by you made his heart even lighter. He had not felt this way since he was a young one before the crushing weight of the workforce pulled him down.

As he continued to stare at you, he noticed something about you, and it made him grasp his chin in thought. Some form of radiance surrounded you, like a golden hue. Was there not an Earthly term for that? ‘Oh yes,’ it suddenly came to him, he had read about them in one of the religious books certain Earthlings seemed to abide by.

You looked like what they depicted as an angel. Unfortunately, your angelic reign on Earth would soon be over. Yes, he had promised not to harm you, but nothing was said about capturing you. “Thank you,” he said and watched with some amusement as your eyebrows raised as if you hadn’t expected him to speak.

“Yeah well,” you huffed and glanced away from him. “I make and sell these things,” you said, motioning to the in-progress stuffed panda. “So, I guess it’s not a big deal if someone wants one before it’s finished being made,” you concluded.

“Hm?” Warumono-san sensed a heavy tension filling the air, and the frown on your face indicated you weren’t exactly the happiest now. But he remained quiet, allowing you to speak as you wished. Your throat tightened, forming a lump that made you swallow heavily.

“You know, I never really envisioned myself doing this,” you confessed, although you weren’t sure why you were revealing this to a stranger. Maybe it was because he wouldn’t judge you, not that you would care if he did. Maybe it was because you hoped you wouldn’t see him again after this.

Maybe still, there was something about him that made you feel like you could be truthful or vent a little. Beating up Red Ranger only helped so-so. “It just started off as one of my grandparent’s hobbies, and then it turned into this,” you explained, waving your hand through the air.

“Spent most of my childhood helping them with the shop, and learning how to make stuffed animals even if my parents didn’t approve,” you chuckled slightly. “All they cared about was fighting and training in the name of the family reputation.”

Yes, you were grateful that you had learned how to defend yourself, but they pushed you beyond your limits. They acted as though fighting and training were the only qualities that equaled someone being worthy. Because of that, they forced you into that lifestyle or at least it felt like they did.

It was like you never had a choice, and there was constant tension between them and your grandparents over what was best for you. The only time you seemed to get peace away from your parents, and the weight of responsibility lifted from your shoulders was when you were with your grandparents.

They showed you that there was something else you could do with your life and that you had the right to choose what you wanted to do. Of course, this was before you had learned that they left their business to you. Sometimes you think you made the choice to keep their shop alive because you felt like you owed them.

Still, it was the first choice that you had made in your otherwise suffocating life, and because of it, you were disowned by your family which only added salt to the wound. Yes...life was not fair, and the unlucky suffered because of those who thought it right to step all over others.

‘Humanity is awful,’ you thought before looking at Warumono-san. ‘But...at least I can show kindness when I wish to.’ Your chuckle didn’t fool him. It was evident there was a bittersweet sadness you were attempting to cover. “I...” he noticed your hesitance and the subtle pain that shined in your eyes.

“When they died, they passed the shop onto me. Guess I’m just trying my best to keep it alive for their sake,” you concluded with a shrug. “Mm…” perhaps this was another reason why he felt so…infatuated by you. That strong front you put up, that wall that separated your true feelings was much like his.

Yes, everyone looked up to and feared him, but was he truly as evil as everyone depicted? The answer was quite obvious. Yet, there was a tenderness underneath that front that longed to be set free but could only do so seldom. Yes, perhaps you two were more alike than he realized.

He glanced at you, the sadness that enveloped your features was something he detested, perhaps even more than the Rangers. ‘So, the business was passed down to Y/n. Earthlings are known for performing such acts for their offspring or relatives,’ although he didn’t have a solid opinion on how he felt about such things.

There was still so much to learn and comprehend when it came to Earthlings, but this didn’t change the knowledge that once something important was handed to you, it was your job to protect and let it prosper. Things he was going to do with you, very soon.

“I see,” he replied after a moment, daring to step closer to you. “We have similar exchanges on my mother planet,” he confessed before realizing his words. You knit your eyebrows. “What?” You replied, and he shook his head, deciding to choose the strategy of silence.

Although he wanted to reply and make some phony explanation as to why he said what he did, he found himself unable to think rationally. The pounding of his heart echoed in his ears and his simmering hot cheeks only added to this inability.

Yet, one question screamed out in the back of his mind. How could he reveal such confidential information without a second thought!? “Uh…” you blinked, noticing the way he was positioned. He was hunched over, his knees bent and practically pressed against his chest.

His hands were tangled in his messy crop of hair, and his lips were pulled up, revealing his unusual pointy teeth. ‘Is he having some internal crisis?’ You wondered, but just as you stepped forward, he snapped out of his daze, and you saw the faintest hint of his golden orbs peering at you from behind those chocolate-colored strands.

Your eyes widened at the sight of them. Yes, you had seen some unusual things in your time, and the stories Red Ranger told you were extremely difficult to believe, let alone picture. Somehow, Warumono-san’s eyes had you frozen. But not with fear, rather something else. Something…unearthly.

‘Wait a minute...’ it slowly dawned on you. ‘Is this...one of the members of the evil organization?’ A small hint of panic consumed you, but you tried to keep your thoughts straight. That was...ridiculous. If this man was part of that organization, shouldn’t he have done something horrible to you by now?

He stood up, his posture now stiff and his hands loosely curled by his sides. He looked at you, his lips pressed out in a thin line. He could feel the tightness growing in his throat and made the choice to play ignorant, although this was his least favored tactic.

“Thank you very much,” he stated, bowing slightly before he turned to the door and the ends of his tailcoat drifted through the air as he walked away. He wrapped his hand around the metal bar across the door, and once again the bell gave a soft ring, signaling his departure.

However, he paused and looked at you from over his shoulder. His gaze lingers and makes you feel that same strange sensation as if he was from another planet. “Little plushie maker,” he purred, finding some amusement at your wide-eyed expression before walking out of the shop.

He planned to return in a few days to bring the desired plushie panda bear and possibly you home. Once again, his heart fluttered at the thought, and he smiled as he slipped his hands into his pockets, heading back toward the Uenono Zoo.

His steps echoed against the paved grooves that made up the street, and as he looked up at the sky he thought, ‘I must privately report this.’ His eyes focused on a cloud passing by, ‘The day I decided to take an Earthling as my soon to be…beloved.’

#warumono x reader #mr villain x reader #kyuujitsu no warumono san x reader #x female reader #fem reader #faulty writes: warumono san: 24 #faulty writes: warumono san: one shot: 24

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vixxensvoid · 20 days

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guys I’ve gotten a lot of ideas for my next part… do y’all want one HUGE part or cut into 2 parts?

side note: my crack au is literally one HUGE universe (like inception dreams and shit idk how to explain ok - THIS IS IS LITERALLY DEJA VU RN WTF IVE DONE THIS BEFORE. LISAN AL GAIB) but with multiple planets/galaxies so you’ll see many characters like my moots (lmk if you want a character) and other shows like community, the office, etc. and movies as well. If you have suggestions lmk as well what characters y’all want in there LMFAOOO -

my au has NO limits btw - so feel free to request the most dumb shit and random characters

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kokorodachidanii · 2 years

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Sunday school’s off kiddies, it’s a national holiday 👾

#i don’t even go to sunday school #and neither does marvin!!!#(somebody better write a fic where marcia and k-9 try to surprise marvin for his birthday #by plotting to conquer a planet without him #and failing spectacularly in various ways #but it turns out he didn’t want anything fancy like that #just a nice dinner date with maarla would’ve been enough)#marvin the martian

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arieswritez · 5 months

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HII! i just wanna start out by saying I absolutely adore and love your mark fics so much, I’ve been eating them up 🫶. but i wanted to ask, in your yan! mark alphabet, you said mark would be more rough if you’re on the masculine side. do you think you can go more into that?

hi :v!!!

i think mark would be rougher w a 'partner' (partner in quotes cause he's holding you hostage 🤭) who's masc because of daddy issues. . basically LMAOO.

if we're talking about alternate!mark, despite the fact that they took over the planet: he still feels the need to prove himself to his dad.

he may not show it but he still holds a lot of anger towards nolan. if their fight still happened in that timeline, mark finds himself having nightmares about his dad above him, pummeling him into that mountain and he wakes with a start before his dad can deliver the last fatal blow.

it causes friction.

maybe nolan and him bump heads from time to time. heated arguments and icy glares in which mark is always the first to back down on. because the truth of the matter is that mark is afraid of his father. and sometimes he wonders if they're real partners or if what they've got is more of an uneasy truce.

regardless, conquering earth is something mark is letting his father do because he wants his approval.

he wants to be just like him.

of course, that insecurity - that resentment - bleeds into his other relationship w men or masc!presenting individuals. it's an ego thing. a need to puff out his chest and show that he's stronger than said person. that he's better. that he can bring them to their knees.

he's going to take out his frustrations and do to you what he couldn't do to nolan.

sigmund freud would have a field trip with alt/yan!mark i'm telling you.

it gets him so, so hard to see someone who's supposed to be strong reduced to whimpers and tears. he loves to tear them apart and watch as they try to pick up the pieces, only to fail in doing so. to watch them become an empty shell of what they used to be. he wants to be the reason you wake up in a cold sweat at night.

he really is his daddy's son 😞🫶🏽

also good luck if you're taller or just slightly bigger than him in any way. . let's not even mention if you're older. . it's NOT gonna be fun. for you, anyway.🤭

#sadist mark makes my brain go bzzt bzzt #but if you ever get the upperhand & get a few licks in #he's gonna get hard ngl #he can't help it #yan!mark secretly wants masc reader to choke him #he'll never admit it #but ik it #it's true!!!#he told me himself!#mark grayson x reader #mark grayson #yandere mark grayson #yandere mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #invincible #io ramble ramble

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euphiea · 10 months

Text

[NEW FILE UPLOADED]: STATUS: LEAKED//CORRUPTED ↳ Black Panther ↳ Shuri Udaku ↳ Alternate Universe ↳ Synopsis: Absurdity colors the wind, the true song of Aquarius. White doves and weeded lawns bring abundance, and though tradition condemns the latter, it took an absurd eye to deem a dandelion a wishing flower. It took an angel condemned by God to grant it so.

Euphoria’s Annotations: ##Based in 1800s || ##Tribbing || ##Arranged Marriage || #Inspired by: This Fic by Wiinters on AO3 & Queen Charlotte (Bridgerton) || ##Shuri Has A Dirty Mouth

[ATTACHED MESSAGE]:

↳ EUPHORIA: I feel like domspace shuri is more of a dirty, slutty talker than a sadist. Expect heavy edits over time. You are not british here.

Love conquers hate. The elders of the living generation have tried to pass this down, but to no avail, for they leave the context out of it—leave it up to the youth to interpret on their own, without any clue on where to start, what to think. The repetition of the saying with no further explanation rendered it tasteless, wisdom that’s carried nations is now a graying chatterbox that no one pays mind to.

The planet is run by two powerful, opposing kingdoms by the names of Wakanda and Vymont. The war has stretched on for centuries, legend has it the land of Jormil was once rich, nutrient soil—until bloodshed soaked the grounds in great volume, far surpassing the limits of its thirst, and therefore turning it into a vacant, hilled land of wild clay.

As the elders passed and the world modernized as to not be left behind by expansion, the war over resources grew to be a nuisance. The people despised the other side, while the ones who wore the crown could not figure a vital reason to continue fighting. In typical history, when nations quarrel it’s ended by two means: total conquering, or union. This case was different, what could be done when the kingdoms simply grow tired?

The story needed to be good, believable. Enough to throw salt on any fires before they emerge. A fairytale with a valuable lesson, love conquers hate.

Thus, the papers sealing your marriage were drawn.

Princess of Vymont and Princess of Wakanda, two young women who met and fell madly in love, despite being rivals. Desire bewitched you as your knights fought, carelessness revealed your schemings much to the rulers’ horror. Efforts that could move mountains and change the weather, the seasons at will, what it took for either to come around. Now, you join Princess Shuri Udaku hand in hand, allowing love to light the way.

Good, believable.

It’s your duty as Princess to endure for the sake of your people. Your marriage with Shuri was sealed in ink weeks before the matrimonial kiss, and even by that time, you hadn’t spoken much. Complete strangers too skilled at lying for your own good.

You assumed that once you married, once your nations united, you wouldn’t have to see her. Sure, all eyes were on you, closely watching your faces and mannerisms for any chances of fraud, but Shuri is a busy woman, the innovative leader of sciences and technology, she had no real time for you.

“Have you consummated the marriage?”

Unfortunately, your mothers were much keener than the public. Queen Ramonda’s question was met with stiff side-eyes and silent nods, and if that didn’t give it away, it was the five foot distance standing between you.

It’s been five months since your marriage, and three weeks since your holy matrimony was sealed in stone. The months leading up to that night, Shuri made astounding efforts to be a wife to you, despite you claiming she did not need to. You were fine with lying, maybe even a quickie in the case that the Gods and Ancestors happen to be vindictive. Shuri denied, saying she didn’t want to touch you as a stranger when you’re her wife, for you didn’t deserve that, and it wouldn’t feel right.

She moved into your gifted estate and slept in a room three halls over. Three months of dining together, painting, gardening, attending balls and picking out fabrics for elaborate complimenting gowns—newlywed activities, a real honeymoon. Your time spent had ignited a spark, a spark that morphed into an unrecognizable blaze of red heat that charred your skin that night of your first time.

Your first time may be your only time, and it irks you.

The fact that you’re irked, irks you.

You woke up in an empty bed, rung the bell, and as your servants tended to you, you asked them where your wife went.

“She’s at the lab for today. She wanted me to tell you she’ll be home by dinner!”

Shuri kept her promise, she returned about an hour from supper while you were in the garden, reading. The next day, the same servant repeated the same thing, except Shuri will be home a little after dinner, and the next day, she’s going to be staying late at the lab, don’t wait up.

Secretly, you were hurt. Shuri never stopped being a busy woman, but you feel as though she merely prioritized you for one thing, and now that you’ve given it to her, she’s lowered your name on the list.

You could confront her, but for what? You married to end a three hundred year war between nations, not from being in love with one another, like Prince T’Challa and Nakia. You told yourself that you’d get over it, but you overheard your servants gossiping:

“What of Rineea, now that the Princess is married?”

“Riri? She has been spending her time at the lab… I halfway expected it to be a call off situation when they married, but that’s unrealistic, huh?”

“I did too. But they were together for a minute, when I heard of the Princess’ engagement, I assumed it was to her. Now imagine my shock when I found out it was a Vymont.”

“Thee Vymont. I am just the cook, but… Put a Princess and a coworker in front of me, and tell me to choose a spouse. But I’m just the cook.”

“Right.”

Right, you’re a Vymont. A crucial detail so easily forgotten. You’re staying on Wakandan soil, holding a piece of Wakanda’s crown, but in no way are you Wakandan. You’re still an outsider, trapped in a marriage with someone who will never see you as anything but. Although, Shuri is a generous sweetheart with you. She told you once how stupid she thinks the war is, how she’s overcome with glee now that it’s over.

“The war has ceased, and I get a beautiful wife as a token,” She had said to you, standing irritatingly close, “And the prettiest Vymont has to offer, at that.”

You told yourself you just aren’t home at the same time, but the possibility she’s been skipping out on you for a girl she has real feelings for, real history with, sharing real similarities with as a Wakandan scientist—meanwhile, you paint, study music, and teach horse riding to children. Shuri said you were the prettiest Vymont, not the prettiest in general. The Wakandan must be show-stoppingly gorgeous, how silly is it to think one night with a Vymont could amount to many with a Wakandan?

It’s three hours until midnight, the warm bodies of your servants is what’s stopping the estate from growing cold. Ethereal are the full moons in November, traces of clouds brush the stars’ cheeks, the wind blows away October’s remnants, and strips crooked branches naked. The daytime servants are tucked away in their own, the nighttime servants are dutifully buzzing; you know the estate well enough to avoid being seen by them.

“Have you changed—“

You abruptly pause your journey mid-step at the sound of a servant’s voice. You’re at a four way stop, of sorts, near the ballroom. Tongue bitten, fingers digging into the black silk of your nightgown, you take a peek around the corner.

Two brown skinned women in uniform, one holding a lantern, the other a stack of aprons resembling the ones they have situated atop their ragged, black dresses. You didn’t hear the door close, but they’ve just come out of a room, tension releases your shoulders as they walk in the opposite direction of you.

Still, you tiptoe across the way. If they catch you, they’ll gaslight you to death about cold-driven sicknesses and royalty needing their beauty rest until you agree to return to your chambers.

The estate’s grand halls are a gothic black with bleached carpet. The moon’s essence gleams through high windows, illuminating your path in a way you’re thankful for, the hall you just journeyed from had no windows and it’s not wise to carry a candle when sneaking around. Yes, it can be blown out and re-lit, but you’re not in the mood for extra activities. At least, not those sorts, of extra activities.

The name of the game is distraction, you’re looking to blow off some steam by walking around. Being alone in your room, underneath your sheets with your thoughts, is poisonous. You’re meeting with congress tomorrow to discuss plans regarding a new terrorist group that’s been attacking countries under Wakanda, to which the Princess herself will be riding with you. At close proximity in a three hour carriage ride with the curtains drawn.

It’s record breaking how fast your sheets became sweltering, each scenario you pushed away was followed by a new one, filthier than the last. They were all painfully unrealistic, you know this, the only reason you shared that night was to affirm your marriage. The weighed rock on your finger is for your people, for the greater good, your wife’s inventions center just that.

Shuri is resilient, hot-headed. She performs her duties well, a brilliant leader for the intellectual world, and her jokes are funny. Prince T’Challa, her brother, is charming and even-tempered compared to Shuri. He doesn’t raise his voice, his bearded face hosts a permanent smirk, T’Challa is the definition of a dashing prince. Shuri is nothing like him. Humbleness is the only trait they share, really.

She has a smart remark reserved for any situation, she’s attentive to everything, listens even when it’s assumed no one is. One thing you admire in her is her polite streak, she’s genuinely respectful. Shuri treats her staff as coworkers and her coworkers as friends. She’s a friendly, warm hearted woman that gives without a second thought.

She’s a giver indeed, in more ways than one.

You stop at a grand wooden door. You don’t need to look around to know it’s Shuri’s room. No guards crowding the hall, she still hasn’t returned.

Teeth pulling the skin at your lip, you allow your knuckles to brush the smooth wood. Three weeks ago, you were pinned against this door. Days prior she revealed to you her taste for dominance, it was brief and fleeting, like the hint of a character death in a book, you didn’t take it to heart.

“Come on, talk to me. Nothing to say now, my love?”

“Is this what gets you off, baby? I can make you cum like this?”

“Everytime you close your legs, I’ll stop.”

Arousal throbs at your core. You’re bad at following your own directions, then again, this is your fifth walk this week.

You were back from a ball that night. Your corset was fitted to accentuate your tits, neatly placed was a silver cross pendant necklace—Shuri’s favorite on you, silver. She smelled heavenly that night, when she pulled you taut to her body as you danced, you felt how tense she was and smiled. You knew you did that.

Courtesy as the new Princess of Wakanda, you mingled with the guests that night, danced with civilians and giggled as they held you close, akin to how she did. They spun and dipped you, kissed your hand, sprayed you with compliments, by the end of the night you were glowing, and Shuri’s grinning face called you ravishing.

You didn’t think your sly little tactic worked until you got in the carriage. You were met with a silence so sudden, so solemn and heavy, it shocked you. Shuri’s gaze locked you in place, her expression unreadable, uncharacteristically so. She didn’t speak the entire fifteen minute ride to the estate.

A frown tugs at your lips. She claimed you as her wife, no one else’s. Perhaps she only meant it then, as a one-night medium for blowing off steam.

Perhaps your connection is meant to be this way, her in one corner, you in the other. Your marriage is one of obligation, a peace treaty, it’s meant to be shallow. After all, she’s Wakandan, and you’re of Vymont, your bloods don’t mix, they never have. It’s stupid to believe they ever could, your alliance was for the people, not you.

Indeed. It’s high time to get her out of your head. It’s silly to crave someone with every bone in your body when they’ll never see you in that way.

“Princess?”

You jump out of your skin, braids knocking against the wood as you whip around.

Behind you is your wife and her royal adviser, Okoye, wearing long, extravagant black fur capes with mini hills of melted snow collected on the hoods and shoulders. Okoye’s lantern allows you to see the way Shuri’s eyes are soft, adoring. Your heart lurches, her fatigue is blatantly obvious, and, still, she’s so gentle.

You suck at following your own directions. You train your attention on Okoye, whose expression is a stark difference from Shuri’s.

“What are you doing out here, and wearing that? It’s freezing,” She presses, scrunching her eyebrows. Your outfit isn’t as skimpy as she makes it seem: a black, thigh-length, silk nightgown with slippery straps, a matching silk robe that trails your footsteps, and black slippers. You cross your robe over your torso and tie it with a loose knot.

“I was only taking a walk-“

“—And where is Aneka?!”

“Enough, Okoye.”

The royal adviser slowly kisses her teeth, but quiets at the royal’s command nonetheless.

“Princess, is everything alright? Do you need anything?” Shuri says, and frowns when you shake your head. “It is almost midnight. You should be asleep.”

You hate this, you would have rather been caught by your servants than your wife.

“I’m fine. As I stated, I was merely just walking around,” You reaffirm, tucking a braid behind your ear before twirling its end. “I was not expecting you, how were your travels?”

“Cold,” Okoye answers, you squint at her.

“We caught wind of a blizzard approaching, so we left earlier than scheduled. I’m so glad I caught you, let’s talk more inside.”

“Ah, I think I should return to my room. We present to congress in the morning.” You tangle your fingers behind your back, feigning a look of disappointment. Shuri tilts her head.

“It’s funny you bring that up,” She says, “That’s what I need to talk to you about. I’m sorry to keep you up, Princess, but I would let it go if I could debrief you on the way.”

Any word of protest dies on your tongue when she ghosts her hand on your hip, brushing past you to open the door. As she guides you inside her room, she bids Okoye a good night.

Shuri doesn’t give you a second to breathe, when the doors close she pulls you into a kiss, sliding her hands along the silk of your waist. She holds you taut against her, a whimper sounds at the back of your throat and she sighs, immediately deepening the kiss. The musk of outside clings to her, it’s not an unpleasant scent, it’s subtle and bearable.

You confusedly try to wrack your brain for conclusions, explanations on how this can be if there’s crucial information to be shared, but the haze that clouds your judgment slaps you away.

You’re chocolate to her burning hands, melting almost too easily into her. The cold, damp fur tickles your palms as you slide up her arms before pulling the hood off. Her hair isn’t detangled enough for you to play in, too dry for a comfortable attempt, so your nosy fingers fall to her neck instead. Arousal is the fire that melts your organs, steadily burns you from the inside out, all you can do is pant and weakly push at her, sweat beading your forehead.

“You’ve been hiding from me, my love,” She mutters against your lips as she very subtly ruts into you, her declaration sends a surge of desire straight through you. She squeezes various areas of your torso as if to leave handprints on your body, she’s asking—pleading for permission to touch you and it’s so hard to think, her and her fucking mouth make it so hard.

Your tongue is too heavy for words, when you buck your hips she furthers her point by sliding a hand between your legs to rub your pussy over the silks.

“I never imagined you to be so cruel.” Shuri guides you back by your waist, and you let her, relishing in the feel of her kissing down your neck; as far as you’re concerned, she can do whatever she wants to you. “How much longer were you planning to deprive me of this? Of you?”

Your back hits a wall, Shuri moans and reconnects your lips—before the smoke can thicken, you break away.

“Have you been sleeping with other people?”

“No.”

Shuri has a special ability, she can move space, manipulate the particles that make up your reality, as she pleases. It’s the only explanation for how heavy the room is now that she has you caged, her amorous breaths lightly fan your eyelashes, her expression is difficult to make out in the dark, but her presence is telling enough. It’s her special ability at play.

Her response is incredibly quick, but she’s not lying. Your lips are chapped, you haven’t done much, is a simple kiss this titillating, to this degree? She’s not lying, but you don’t believe she’s telling the entire truth.

You hum, looking off to the side. Shuri notices, you believe that she’s lying to you, though she swore at the podium she never would; she pays it little regard, there’s other, more pressing matters on her mind, it’s been three weeks since she’s had you, and she prayed to Bast that she got to see you before your trip.

“..You are captivating, my love,” Shuri breathes, “Take off your clothes and lie on the floor.”

It’s her special ability that wills you to pull the knot of your robe a-loose, the garment cascades to the floor and Shuri never takes her eyes off of you, even when she unclasps her cape and tosses it across the room. She’s wearing black trousers and a beautiful white blouse with frills adorning the chest, which suffers the same fate as her coat when she tugs it off.

—

Your legs are stretched to the hint of exertion, halfway numb due to how your wife is situated on top of you, but it’s welcomed, for it gives her access to you, access to your cunt that throbs with each rock of her hips.

Shuri’s wetness trails down your lips to join the puddle dirtying your silks, her breaths fan your ear, accompanied by deep, throated moans that slip without her permission. It’s not as obscene as the slick sounds of your cunts, but it heats your face, blood roars underneath your cheeks.

“You’re enjoying this. Look at you.”

Shuri’s taunting contributes to your lightheadedness. Pleasure is a sea of waves far too rowdy for you to handle, a soft mewl pulls you further in its depths, the only answer you can muster is a nod, eyes struggling to stay open, weakly clawing at her back.

If her people heard any of the things she’s saying, any of the things she’s whispered in your ears when no one is looking, shock would turn their bodies to stone. The months leading up to your first time were torture. Your image matters, it’s imperative you have a good reputation or you risk being overthrown, a lesson your father sat you down and talked to you about when you were 5, and you’d thrown a hissy fit during a festival.

“There’s a mask attached to the crown.” — A quote you once read in a fantasy book, written by a civilian. You internally squealed, they had no clue how correct they were, and they never will, for your mask wouldn’t allow it. It’s partially why you like Shuri, she’s a princess herself, and you’ve seen firsthand the stark difference between Princess Shuri of Wakanda, and Shuri Udaku.

“Can I make you cum like this, beloved? Hm? Make my pretty wife cum all over herself, from a little humping,” Shuri slurs through pants, her clit twitching as it glides along your folds. Her and her fucking mouth is going to be the death of you, she’s so incredibly raunchy when lust impassions her, as if arousal is a poison, a sickness.

Shuri stills her hips at your lack of response, and you whine, jerking into her.

“Yes, Shuri, ‘m gonna cum like this,” You plea, nipples brushing her own as your back arches, “Keep going, please please.”

She shudders, the way you say her name is criminal. Her hips resume their pace, your eyes loll to the back of your head.

“Good girl,” Shuri practically purrs in your ear, “Good girl.”

She sits up to pin you by your shoulders, holding you in place as if you were ever going anywhere. Her pace grows harsher, her grip comes with a resounding ache that fans the flames licking your belly, you’re convinced Shuri can do anything, say anything, and it’ll dampen your arousal the very same.

“I want to fuck you with a toy, just like this. I’ll make you ride me ‘til it hurts, ‘til you can’t think. You won’t know what to do with yourself.”

Shuri’s eyes are trained on your face, you feel moreso than see it, for it’s her special ability. She’s an obvious woman, says what she means and means what she says, even blunt to her own detriment, at times. Her words stir something in you, force their way through your ribs to caress the heart that’s forgotten it’s meant to beat. The knot in your belly is steadily tightening, if she stops you truly might cry.

The approach of her own release is telling from the way her pussy throbs and pulses along your lips. She lowers her hips, dropping more of her weight to increase the pressure where your desires conjoin, knowing she has you locked in your position. You wonder if she’s holding anything back at the moment, how far her limits are from this point.

“And you’ll take it for me, won’t you? Like the obedient girl you are.” And you shudder, nodding incessantly to the jerky rhythm of your tits.

“Shuri, ’m so close,” You whimper, legs twitching. “Please don’t stop.”

She would be a fool to do so, knowing this she nods anyway, whispering under her breath curses not fitted for a woman of her stature. Pleasure is a sea of waves too rowdy for you to handle, it creeps on you, bringing with it an insurmountable pressure you’d squirm to flee if Shuri weren’t holding you still.

If you asked, she’d say she’s holding you in place to keep the angle right, and it’d be a half truth. She’d leave out the sick satisfaction that surges through her when doing so, the hint, or inkling, that you’re trapped with no other choices. You’re water through her fingers in everyday life. Shuri gulped down her desires when pursuing you, she wanted to go at your pace, do things to your accord, otherwise she’d risk being seen as clingy and eager.

You didn’t believe her earlier when she told you she hadn’t slept with anyone, but she was telling the truth. The entire carriage ride home, Shuri was squirming in her seat, resorting to palming her pussy over her pants to satiate the teenage urge to get off right then and there, for she couldn’t stop thinking of you, in various positions, various settings, far more scandalous than the privacy of her room, far less lady like for a woman of your stature.

Your wife’s eyes roll to the back of her head. “(Y/N), cum for me, Princess, let me see it.”

The air is punched from your gut, your mouth drops open in a silent scream as you release, your stomach twitching at each wave that passes. It’s the feeling of your pussy’s incessant pulsing coupled with the dashing sight of you that drives Shuri to follow, she cums with a broken whimper, her head lolled over her shoulders.

“Yes, like that, just like that,” She breathlessly encourages, hips slown to drawn out thrusts, “Doing so well for me, my love, so so well.”

Shuri’s name is but an anchor, you repeat it under your breath over and over to keep yourself grounded. Her arms jelly, you catch her before she can completely collapse on you—not that you’d mind.

Weeks, she’s had to smile in people’s faces, feign interest in their lives, and come back to an empty home. Weeks, she’s had to camp in her lab to ensure her coworkers’ tasks were done to perfection, and it’s imperative they are—they were not. Weeks, she’s had to live off simple interactions with you, long hug, light conversation, and then she’s pulled away.

Weeks, she’s had to tell herself the lives of others are important too, civilians are people too, if not she’d be under you—or on top of you—all the time, enjoying the serenity your aura provides.

It’s scary how quick it’s come to this. Five months, you met on a chilly day, bedded on a windy night, and now her windows are blanketed in frost. Five months, and the signature of her human coding is tattooed on your finger, the skin where your wedding ring rests.

“Have you been sleeping with other people?”

Shuri makes a mental note to address it tomorrow, at an appropriate time.

#shuri x reader #shuri x reader smut #shuri udaku x reader #shuri udaku x reader smut #black panther

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kalevalakryze · 1 month

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The Seeds We Sow

The fic + art collaboration Art completed by @mirandemia for the @ahsokaevents Wildflowers collab! Find it on AO3!

Sabine Wren + Ahsoka Tano The soil was warm under her hands; Freshly turned and clumpy where she uncovered it from the ashen tones of the earth. “Life finds a way.” Ahsoka had told her upon setting out on this task. The water source wasn’t too far away, a still pool with sediment floating in the murky water.

“We can get this cleaned up, can’t we Asha?” She called to the howler, snuffling through a patch of stubbornly prevailing grass nearby. She did not receive any response from the peculiar creature, though it was nice to have her to bounce ideas off of.

The Noti had given her the scraps from an older trawler, dragged each time they moved to limit waste, carrying broken vaporators, gears, and even old power packs to blasters that must have been acquired from Thrawn’s troopers. At least she didn’t need to lug it too much further than their current campsite to get it near the water supply. “Let’s see what we can do,” The Mandalorian talked aloud, boots crunching over the crumbling outer layer of the planet’s crust.

First, Sabine grabbed old pipes from blown cooling systems, using her hands to dig out four long rows in the dirt, exposing nutrient-rich soil to the sunlight above. “Bet you guys missed the sun just as much as I do,” She chuckled warmly to a squirming lifeform. “You kinda look like an exogorth. Can I call you Exo?” The pad of her thumb brushed along the sliminess of the creature's side, laughing warmly to herself when it squiggled away. “Alright, Exo. I’m sorry I gotta move you, but hey, you keep pests away from my seeds, and this can be a mutually beneficial arrangement, got it?”

The creature was set inside of a pile of upturned dirt, where it happily burrowed itself to be rid of the humanoid that dared interrupt its rest.

Building the irrigation system was nothing new to Sabine Wren; In fact, it was something she understood almost as well as mixing her explosive paints. Back when rebel holdouts needed crops, she was often the one counted on to help them get started, and it was always something that helped her feel useful.

A Mandalorian could destroy, and conquer, and a million other destructive things, but she was put in this Galaxy for more than that. She created, and saved, she strived every day for as long as she could remember to embrace her Mandalorian heritage, to be everything her ancestors could have wanted, and then some.

It was through her continued work every day that she honored the patron of her House, Tarre Vizsla, it was through her dedication to her people that honored her Clan and the lives they’d once lived, and it was her determination that honored the Rebellion she’d spent so long fighting for. Everything she did was for her family, and right now? That family was found in Ahsoka and the Noti.

Her purification system was simple in design, and it required the sacrifice of a power pack from her blaster to generate enough of a spark to keep the miniature solar array working. She could return with a new source for it one day, for when the sun grew dim and the gears needed to turn. For now, the blaster she’d painted in the blues of reliability and royalty was dismantled under a caring hand and slotted into the home of the system.

Clean water trickled slowly with a quiet whir of machinery, sucking the water through and filtering out sediment as it pushed along the rows of water she’d dug out. “Hey, we did it,” She called to Asha, now dozing lazily in her interesting patch of grass. “Thanks,” She laughed, bubbling like the carbonation in The Outlander Club’s specialty beverage, warmed by the lull of a punk tongue hanging lazily past yellowed canines.

With dampened soil, Sabine was able to meticulously lay each seed; They were from her Galaxy, so there was no telling if they would take to their new home, but she had hope, and she’d learned long ago just how far a little hope could stretch. Then, the compost that had been saved up was spread evenly over the rows, pressed in lightly to allow for the sprouts to push past without much resistance, though would not risk being washed away when the drought on this side of the planet would end at last.

“You’ve done well,” Ahsoka’s voice was warm; Lighter than she was used to, over the course of her previous apprenticeship, that is.

“Yeah? You think so?” The Mandalorian questioned genuinely from her spot knelt in the dirt, mud caked her armor and her flight suit, and streaks painted her face and dirtied her hair. The purple-haired woman turned her head to watch as Ahsoka dismounted her howler, allowing it to trundle to Asha’s lazy form. “I do,” The hand on her shoulder was warm. Sabine allowed the offered strength to rise from her knelt position. “Lunch is ready back at camp, you look like you could use it,” The jab was light, bouncing off her armor with a light chuckle.

“You’re tellin’ me… Think everything will be safe here?”

Ahsoka’s gaze turned to the horizon, searching. When she shook her head in the affirmative, Sabine’s shoulders relaxed. “Do you think they’re okay…” She questioned after a moment.

It didn’t take a genius to understand who she was asking after. “Shin will be alright, I’m sure of it. Baylan… worries me, he’s treading a dangerous path, one we will have to follow, sooner than later.”

As the Master and Apprentice rode their howlers the short distance back to camp, Sabine’s fingers threaded through the thick, dark wool of Asha’s neck. “Thanks,”

Ahsoka’s head bowed towards her. She could have kept the thoughts to herself, as she’d once had. But even Ahsoka Tano learned when it was time to truly be more than the people who’d trained you. Where Obi-Wan and Anakin may have kept themselves quiet, she was determined to break the cycle. Shin Hati

Communication with the bandits was slow. Truly, Shin had heard of droids learning and adapting better than this sorry lot. All she received from them were grunts, either of indignation, or approval, she could only tell after they’d begun moving, either to follow her orders or to blatantly ignore them.

The most recent act of ignorance from the clan found Shin stubbornly figuring out ways to feed them all. They’d seemed unbothered by the prospect that they could go hungry, as if they could pillage their way across Peridea; and maybe they could have, if not for the Jedi and Sabine protecting their favorite victims now. Shin knew better than to allow themselves to march into that camp, she knew what the Torguta and Mandalorian were capable of.

Chasing away the nomads that had settled in this desolate canyon had been simple, natural, even. The moment they saw a blood-orange blade on the horizon, and saw the sun glinting off the worn paint of her bandit’s heads, most were intelligent enough to turn tail. It had even stocked them up with enough supplies to last until… well… Until what, Shin wasn’t sure yet, but they’d be damned if they didn’t figure it out soon.

There was a water source nearby, old, rickety purifiers ran as they refilled the jugs as fast as her men could deplete them. They also noticed a raised bed of soil, something she didn’t see often in the wastes like this. There were no seeds nearby, though she could see plants sprouting from a host nearby.

Eyes as dreary as their landscape peered around the supplies that had been left. This was new, but they had always been a resourceful student. If taking lives was so natural, then surely they would be able to sustain it, especially in the most non-sentient way life existed.

The soil had been freshly turned, Shin learned as their fingers delved into the raised garden bed. The travelers had been planning on making this place their home for the season as well. No matter, it was Shin’s people who were victorious in the end, and they would reap the profits of prior labors… and Shin’s own.

Dirt spilled into the many tears in their gloves, worn from the months of use and with no true materials to repair them. The pebbles were harsh, though their skin was learning to grow harsher. Eventually, the tanned gorraslug material was set aside, resting precariously on a wooden support, allowing them to dig deeper, pushing grime up under their fingernails as they worked to bury the remains of the food supply.

Plasto pails sat near the purifiers, and it was just Shin’s luck that the first pail they filled with water would crack under the unforgiving weight as it was filled to the brim. “Karabast!” They growled at the remains of the bucket, water soaking their boots and turning the ground at their feet into sloshing mud.

The Force, a fickle ally, refused to answer their call in their growing frustrations; Even as they attempted to channel their annoyance into the pressure of water, thin plasto, and the space they wanted to create between it and the ground.

Huffing and puffing, Shin found themselves resorting to other means; A spear was sent between the weak metal handles of the pail, allowing her the leverage to lift it, keeping it balanced on her shoulder with minimal spillage as she lugged it to the beds, cursing the whole way.

By the time each sprout had a home in the dirt, Shin’s hands, tunic, and face were streaked with mud, sweat cutting tracks through the grime as they sat back against a boulder to admire their work. A bandit passed by them, Shin watched with narrowed eyes as they paused at her work.

No words were spoken between them as they turned back to look at the filthy blonde, though Shin had felt the understanding in the nod of their head. A dented canteen was removed from their hip and passed nonchalantly to her on their way back to sorting through their treasures of the raid.

The sinking of the sun was met with a wet nose sniffling at long-dry boots, a dirty white howler in search of food. With her fingers carding through the soft fur at its neck, Shin rose at last, acquiescent to find the poor beast something to eat, and with a rumbling of her own stomach, something for herself as well.

Ezra Bridger Krownest had always been cold, but if there was anything Ezra Bridger had learned in his short experiences with Clan Wren, it was the planet's unique ability to nurture all kinds of life.

This was why, as the Ghost touched down on a desolate surface, and no gruff voices came over their comms to demand clearance, Ezra felt the loss of those unique lives as distinctly as he had. The Jedi paused in the entryway, boot hovering just over the ramp. “Ezra?” Hera called, a gloved hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

A deep breath and a warm smile recentered him as he used the familiar touch on his shoulder to ground himself. “I’m alright… It’s just hard not to notice…”

Hera’s head dipped in understanding; She hadn’t made the venture yet, had been waiting on Sabine’s word to visit with the heir, the day had never come, until Ezra voiced his desire to do something for her family. “We’ll be right here with you,” She promised, glancing away from Ezra to peek down at Jacen, bundled up and standing by her side, with Chopper rolling just behind them once they began walking.

The Wren stronghold was dark and untouched, mountains of snow coated the roof, while dangerous icicles hung dangerously along the large transparisteel windows. “Do you think it’ll grow here?” Jacen asked as the toe of his boot caught on a patch of slippery ice. .

“Yeah, ‘course,” Ezra mused out loud as he knelt near one of the windows. Peering through the dust, he could see the inside of the throne room, dark and desolate, with cobwebs hanging across each surface. The light that managed to cut through the grime still found a way to cast across the painting of the Matriarch of Clan Wren, lighting yellow and grey armor up in an effect that made them glow gold and silver.

“Do you remember how it went?” Ezra questioned, unblinking from his sight against the glass, catching the barest reflection of his own eyes back at him.

“Never did manage Mando’a,” Hera admitted, lowering herself into the snow beside him, allowing Jacen to tuck himself against her once more as she settled. He’d known Ursa, though Hera doubted he would have much memories of them, not with the separate wars they found themselves fighting as Sabine focused on finding Ezra.

“Basic should be fine… It’s the memory that counts, right?” He tried to keep his tone light, tried to keep the calmness steady, though the emptiness seemed to echo the way his words caught around the tightness in his throat. Addam’s apple bobbing, he nodded his head towards the snow, beginning the process of clearing away the piles to the frozen earth underneath.

They did not have every name of every warrior lost, and Ezra found himself regretting this, too naive and headstrong, too worried about the fight than the lives of the people he’d fought beside. He would return, when the seasons changed, when Sabine came out. She could tell them their names, and they would plant flowers for them as well, as a family again.

The ground was frozen and solid, though after a while of digging and chipping away, he’d been successful in clearing three small holes. “Vormur can grow through anything,” He assured himself as he retrieved a small duracrete container, filled to the brim with dirt from Lothal, soft enough to cover the tops and hopefully prevent them from freezing over. “They’re Mandalorian, you know” A foreboding gaze was sent to the portain through the windows before he dropped a seed in each hole. Hera stayed silent, for him, for Sabine and Ahsoka, and for Clan Wren itself.

“Jace, you wanna cover this up, for aunt ‘bine?” He offered, leaning back as he cleared his throat, hiding a sniffle as he wiped the rough nylon material of his sleeve under his nose. Small knees shuffled through the dirt as the boy inched closer, mittens sweeping through the uncovered dirt to start brushing it to the small array of flowers. “These smell really nice,” He commented as he worked, taking a big sniff as the dirt began to settle. “Aunt Sabine will really like this when she comes back-” The young Force-Sensitive boy paused then, fingers curling in his mittens as his brows drew together. “If she ever comes back…. Here, i mean.” He was quick to correct; No one aired their thoughts about the possibility of Sabine and Ahsoka’s return, not when Ezra himself had been gone so long.

“Well, when she hears about all our hard work… I’m sure she will,” Hera’s hand brushed over Jacen’s head, pulling the wool hat on his head askew. Final preparations were made to keep the flowers healthy and strong from the climate. Just as the sun began to crest the mountains, pink and golden light splashing across the grey landscape of the frozen lake. Before they could leave, the Rebels settled back in one last time, peering through dust covered windows at the haunting silhouette of the Countess of Krownest one last time. “Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum, Clan Wren.” Their Mando’a was rough and heavily accented, but the words seemed to release some of the weight on their shoulders, allowing them to return to their new war with a lighter conscience.

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