#baron/reader

[katyswrites]

you're a bandit like me

Pairing: Baron Lamram/afab!reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+), references to crime, unprotected p in v, oral sex (reader receiving), sneaky links, no use of y/n, SPOILERS for Marmalade

Wordcount: 3k

A little blurb about Baron - takes place after the end of the movie, later that night. A universe in which you're his sneaky link, and a partner-in-crime - and he needs you, now.

It starts with a knock on your door in the middle of the night. You’re in bed, flicking between channels, ultimately settling on the late-night news to hopefully help lull you to sleep. 

You’re half-conscious, the reporter’s voice a dull din in the background.

“- federal agents have given a new description of the suspect, who they say they have previously mis-identified as a female -”

You’re falling asleep in the blue glow of the television, until you hear the frantic tapping on your door. You jump, suddenly alert - you covertly grab your gun off of the nightstand - you never sleep without it nearby -, and slowly walk towards the door, consciously avoiding the squeakiest floorboards. The knocking is continuing, and part of you worries that the cops have truly, finally caught up to you. You bring your eye up to the peephole, and breathe a sigh of relief.

He’s standing there, the same as ever, if not a bit more tired-looking. And -

“You cut your hair,” you say, breathing a sigh of relief. 

Baron nods.

“Yeah, I did. Planning to use that on me?” he asks. You glance down at the gun in your hand, and laugh, putting it down.

“No - sorry, I just - can never be too careful.”

He nods, a mutual understanding shared between the two of you. You step back, not even needing him to ask to be invited in, bolting the door behind him. 

You hadn’t heard from him in weeks, but that’s typical - you only reach out when you need each other. Though, he usually at least prefaces his visits with a phone call.

“What’s going on -”

You don’t get a chance to finish, because his lips are on yours, hands holding your face to pull you close to him. You let your eyes flutter shut, kissing him back with a bit of desperation - he tastes like menthol cigarettes, and the flavor of gum he likely just chewed to try and cover it up.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling his body impossibly closer to yours - you’ve only managed to make it a few feet inside the doorway. It nearly kills you to pull away, just to look at him.

“Are you okay?” you ask quietly.

He nods, lips slightly swollen from yours.

“Yeah - I - it’s all good. Just had a long day.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Long how?”

You know what Baron gets up to when you don’t see him - you and him are alike, in that way. You rarely go into the details of each other’s misdeeds - except, perhaps, the occasions when he shows up to your place with a sack full of cash, begging for you to get him a car, or a weapon, or a fake ID - whatever he needs. You’re always happy to oblige - it’s your specialty, after all. You’re even the one who taught him how to hotwire, even though he’ll never admit that. Sometimes he comes for a few days, just to lay low - you’ve done the same, just a few times. Only when he’s passing through, trying to throw someone off of his trail. But something is different this time. 

He just shakes his head.

“You’ll find out in tomorrow’s papers, I’m sure.”

You nod in understanding.

“Were you followed?”

“No - don’t think so. Pretty sure I shook them back in Alabama.”

You just bring your hand up to card it through his hair, chuckling.

“Almost didn’t recognize you,” you say.

“Do you like it?”

You can’t help but smile.

“Oh, yeah - it’s really nice. Kind of… sexy, actually.”

He smirks, his face reddening a bit.

“Well, if I had known you’d say that, I would’ve done it a long time ago.”

“Does it… is this anything to do with your long day?”

He just nods solemnly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Okay,” you say - it’s enough information, for now. “So… I’m guessing you’re not here just to hide out, are you?”

The corner of his mouth twitches, fighting another smirk.

“No.”

Then you’re kissing him again, pulling him down by his shirt collar. He sighs against your lips, wrapping his arms around you as his tongue enters your mouth.

“Bedroom,” you murmur, bringing him with you as you step backwards down the hallway.

You stumble through the doorway together, never pulling your lips away from one another. He’s holding your face in his hands again, gently, as if he’s worried you might break. It’s a contrast from his mouth, rough and demanding against yours.

You reach for his leather jacket, helping him shoulder it off and throw it on the floor.

“Need you,” he grumbles. “I - I just -”

“It’s okay,” you say, placing a finger on his lips. 

There’s always been a mutual understanding between you two, ever since he first came to you two years ago, looking for a car and a gun. You hadn’t questioned why - in your line of “work,” you never did. But, there was something else, too - your lifestyles made it impossible to do this with anyone else. Other people were dangerous - they asked too many questions. Baron, on the other hand… you know it’s not even his real name. He doesn’t know yours, either - it’s better that way. Pseudonyms keep things easier, and make this only one, incredibly small part of your life. Sometimes, all you needed from each other was someone to touch, to hold. Still, it doesn’t change how much you miss him every time he disappears on you.

But he’s here now, and he wants you - no, needs you, in his words. 

So you start unbuttoning his shirt, kissing his neck as you do. He groans, hand coming up to cup the back of your head and pull your lips back to his.

He pushes you back gently, leading you to the bed until the backs of your knees are hitting the mattress.

You fall back a bit gracelessly, and he follows you, reaching desperately for the hem of your oversize t-shirt. You oblige, pulling it over your head to reveal your breasts to him.

“No bra?” he asks, grinning.

“I was about to go to sleep, until you -”

And he’s kissing you again, hand pressed against the small of your back. It begins to wander, calloused hands brushing against your soft skin, covering the expanse of your back until he comes around to cup your breasts. You kiss him desperately, gasping as he toys with your nipples. You bury your face in his neck, your sensitive buds hardening under his touch.

“You like that, baby?” he coos. You just moan into his skin, reaching down to fumble with his belt buckle.

It’s not long until you’ve rid each other of all your other clothes, and he’s pushed you back onto the mattress, crawling over you. 

He smiles down at you, face hovering inches from yours.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hey.”

“I just - thanks.”

“For what?” you ask.

“Always answering the door, picking up the phone, just - saving my ass, over and over again.”

“It’s what we do,” you say, pulling him down for another kiss. “We help each other.”

“You’re really helpin’ me right now,” he says, chuckling.

Then he’s reaching down, his fingers brushing against your cunt, and you gasp.

“Need to touch you, baby,” he murmurs, coating his fingers in your slick as he runs them along your slit. He’s kissing down your body, slowly, and you feel yourself shiver with anticipation. You sigh, letting your head fall back against the pillow.

“Spread ‘em for me - that’s it - been thinkin’ about this pussy all day -”

Your legs fall open, giving Baron’s fingers full access.

“So fuckin’ wet - just relax, baby -”

He begins circling your clit with his thumb, his other hand planted on your hip to keep you pinned against the mattress. He slips a finger inside, and you moan, involuntarily clenching around him as he adds a second one.

“You like that?” he murmurs. You just whine, bucking against his hand as he pumps his fingers into you.

“‘Course you do - I know just what you like - fuck, look at you,” he says, continuing to work you open with his fingers. 

You moan, writhing as you feel pleasure coarse through you, his fingers so much larger than your own - only for it to stop, suddenly.

He doesn’t even give you a chance to whine in protest, because his mouth is on you, tongue swirling around your clit. You cry out, back arching at the feeling of his mouth, pillow-soft and lapping at you like you’re his last meal.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” he murmurs against your cunt, licking a long line up your slit. You moan, his hands holding your hips to the bed as he eats you out. He focuses his tongue back on your clit, swirling circles around it as his hand comes back, slipping two fingers back into you with ease. 

He grins against your skin at the sound of your whines when he adds a third finger, pumping in and out of you at an unrelenting pace.

You find your own hands wandering, running your fingers through his hair and gripping, pulling him closer. You’re not used to it being so short, but it still serves its purpose all the same. He groans as you pull on the chestnut strands. 

“I’m close,” you breathe, feeling your face flush, your heart thudding in your chest. There’s pressure building in your core, ready to snap at any moment. He just hums, the vibration against your cunt pushing you even closer to the edge.

It takes one more circle of his tongue over your clit, and you’re done for - you’re bucking your hips into his face, tugging harshly on his hair as you see stars behind your eyelids. You scream as the pleasure washed over you, the orgasm intense and white-hot. He works you through your high, continuing to lap and lick at you, gradually slowing down as your whole body shakes. It’s almost too much, but you can’t even find the words to ask him to stop. By the time he removes his fingers from you, you’re a mess. You feel boneless, certain you'll sink all the way through the mattress if you aren’t careful.

Your breathing is deep and labored, not even able to form words as Baron presses soft kisses to your inner thigh. He brings himself back up over you, kissing you fiercely. You still faintly taste yourself on him, and smile into his mouth.

“You good?” he asks, smiling smugly.

You nod, still a bit breathless. “Fuck - yeah, so good.”

He kisses you again, his mouth glistening with you as you feel his hard cock press against your stomach.

“Not gonna lie - not sure if I’ll last long,” he whispers. “Just kind of wanted to make sure you felt good first, just in case -”

“It’s fine,” you assure. “Don’t worry - I’ve got you.”

You don’t worry about coming again, not really - he needs you, needs this. You never ask each other questions, but you know something must have happened that’s set him over the edge. So, you just kiss him, and hold him close as he lines up with your entrance.

He groans as he pushes into you, his cock stretching you out. You gasp, digging your fingernails into his back as he fully bottoms out, still not quite used to his size after all this time.

He wastes no time, and you don’t mind - you’re still wet and sensitive from your previous orgasm, and he begins pounding into you at a relentless pace.

You moan under him, bring your hips up to meet his thrusts. THe room is just filled with the sounds of moans and labored breaths, the slapping of skin, and the scent of sex. He’s everywhere, grunting and groaning as he thrusts.

The feeling of him is exquisite, his cock feeling like it was made for you as it drags deliciously along your walls. 

“Takin’ me so well,” he manages, voice strained. “So fuckin’ good - fuckin’ love your pussy -”

You just mewl and whine, burying your face into his neck and sucking on the skin there. It might bruise, but you don’t care - he moans at the feeling, and picks up the pace a bit. He’s already close, you can tell. Pleasure courses through your own body, pulsing through you as he fucks you.

“Oh god -” you moan, heat building in your core. “Baron, baby - fuck, right there - fuck -”

“Needed this - the whole time I was in there - I wanted to get out, just for you - had to see you again -”

You’re not sure what he’s talking about, but you let him ramble - he always gets talkative when he’s about to finish.

“Where -” he breathes, aware of how dangerously close he is to finishing inside you.

“I - ah! Fuck - tummy’s fine - or tits, or wherever -”

He’s pulling out in a flash, his hand coming up to furiously stroke his cock. He only has to jerk himself for a few seconds, then he’s shuddering, hips stilting into his hand as he cums. You feel his hot cum hit your stomach, warm and sticky on your skin. He groans as he finishes, his hot ropes pooling onto your belly and dripping down your sides a bit. He collapses next to you, breathless. 

Your heart is racing, chest heaving as you stare at the ceiling. You both lay in silence for a few moments, before he rolls out of bed and heads out the door of your bedroom. He returns a moment later, a washcloth in his hand.

“This okay? Found it in your cabinet.”

You nod, taking it from him to wipe his cum off of you. He lays back beside you, turning on his side to look at you.

“You okay?” he asks. You meet his eyes, and nod.

“Yeah - I’m fine. That was good,” you say, wiping some of his hair off of his sweaty forehead.

“Think I need to shower for the rest of this,” you sigh, tossing the soiled washcloth aside.

“God - a shower sounds amazing,” he mutters. “I haven’t - haven’t had the luxury of taking a good one in a hot minute.”

You grin, sitting up. “Well… in the interest of saving water -”

“Right behind you,” he says quickly, practically sprinting behind you as you head down the hallway towards the bathroom.

*****

You both took your time in the shower, the hot water a sweet relief for both of you. It takes longer than it should have, since he insists on making you cum on his fingers to make up for not getting you there when he fucked you. And, who were you to deny him that?

It’s only later, when you’re both clean and dried and back in your bed, that you start to actually feel tired. The clock on your bedside reads 3:42 AM. You feel yourself drifting off, Baron by your side beneath the covers.

“You staying the night?” you ask sleepily - never a guarantee with him.

“Mm,” he says. “If that’s alright.”

“Yeah - fine. You staying for a while?”

“Not sure,” he replies honestly.

Neither of you ever make promises to one another - he could disappear tomorrow, and you may not hear from him for months. But he’s here now, warm and solid beside you. You curl into his side, and you feel him relax a bit.

As you drift off, you can almost swear you hear him say I missed you.

In the morning, he’s gone. By the time sunlight is filtering through the curtains, there’s just a cold spot in the bed where he used to be.

You try to push down the disappointment - you’ve done the same to him, after all, more times than either of you can count. Still - sometimes he stays. Sometimes.

The only evidence that he had been here at all is a jar of marmalade left on your kitchen counter - homemade by his mother, according to him. And, your favorite thing to have on toast. When you pick up the jar and look at it, you can’t help but smile.

When the newspaper gets delivered to your door later that day, everything suddenly makes sense. 

It’s just a local paper, never much news of note in it. You mostly read it for the crime blotter, hoping that they don’t have too many details on the nearby stolen cars or goods, knowing if you need to move soon before you’re caught.

But, instead, crime is on the front page - one that you know all too well:

BABYDOLL BANDIT BREAKS FREE FROM PRISON, STILL AT LARGE

You laugh, reading in the article how the armed robbery suspect somehow cleverly evaded a federal task force, and how - of course - the suspect is, in fact, male, and not the woman they thought had been chasing for two years. But you knew that already - you’re perhaps the only person who had known that.

Everything about his behavior the night before suddenly makes sense - his desperation, his exhaustion - and, of course, his disappearing act this morning.

You sip your coffee as you read the paper, rolling your eyes.

He’ll be back, you know that. But for now, you just silently root for him to make it - he’s probably in a new getaway car now, on his way to hide out in a new town, if not a new state.

You take a sip of coffee, and a bite of your marmalade toast. Then, you turn on the television  - if you’re lucky, you’ll get another glance of Baron’s face on the news, until he calls you again.

author's note: Happy Valentine's Day, y'all. I have Marmalade brainrot, so I figured I'd write this little blurb while I work on other fics. Love y'all! (Dedicated to @chateaudjo and @djoworlds)

[eraenaa]

Bittersweet

Inspired by the song "Too Sweet" by Hozier

Feyd- Rautha x Lady Reader Tag List

Summary: As the Na-Baron's proposed bride, you were simply too sweet for him and his bitter being. You were too innocent and pure to be tainted by the blood-stained hands of the Harkonnen heir.

Warnings: Sunshine x Grumpy Trope, Mature, 18+, P in V sex, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex (F receiving), Fingering, Overstimulation, ¿Slight Rejection?, ¿Softer Feyd-Rauth?, Not Proofread

Word Count: 4,607

They say you were of great beauty and good breading, all things needed in a wife. Feyd-Rautha never sought out a love match; all he needed was a wife whose womb was suitable for taking his seed and producing his heirs. He saw meeting you as a dire chore, having to travel to your planet and seek out and court the girl whose task could be reduced to a simple broodmare. Feyd-Rautha grimaced at the bright sun on your home planet, a planet that resembled ancient Earth before it ultimately met its demise. Your father, the duke, stood with his duchess to greet and welcome him. He turned to your mother, a small fake smile on her lips as she was trying hard not to let her distaste show as she saw the man who they planned to marry her daughter too. Sickly pale and hairless, far from the standard of beauty your planet had. 

“Na-Baron, welcome; we hope your journey was well,” your father greeted. The Na-Baron let him continue on with pleasantries as his eyes searched for you, whom he was tasked to court and marry. He wished to know if you were truly as beautiful as all had praised you. He wanted to deduce if you were somewhat worthy of all of this trouble he must go through. “Come, let us escort you inside, my lord. My daughter waits for you there,” He heard the duke say, and the Na-Baron felt annoyance at your self-importance, not even bothering to greet him as he had landed, having him be the one to come to you. He somewhat made up his mind that you were a spoiled child of one of the great houses. Covered in frills and frivolity. That whatever beauty they talked about and praised you for was just a cover to hide the fact that you were a tempestuous, spoiled brat who would certainly be a difficult wife for any lord. 

Feyd-Rautha hid his confusion and annoyance as he was led to a place surrounded by greenery and colors that stung his eyes foe be was used to the bleakness and darkness of his home. “My sweet,” The Na-Baron heard your father call, and that is when he finally noticed you. Your back was turned from him, hair that he had none cascaded down your back and reached your waist that was cinched inside the bodice of your color-filled gown. Feed clenched his jaw and felt his breathing stutter as you finally turned your direction to him. Turning to the call of your father with your bright eyes searching for his frame and pink lips parted, you had a flower in your hand, your fingers rolling the delicate stem. 

“Na-Baron, may I present you, my daughter,” Your father said and urged you to step closer. You licked your lips and curtsied lowly before the heir of house Harkonnen and your possible husband. “Welcome, Na-Baron,” You said lowly. Feyd was never one to be phased, especially not stunned, but that was the precise state you had placed him in. He thought the praises they gave of your beauty and nature was an exaggeration— they talked about you as if you were a propaganda, a savior, a goddess of beauty. And now, the heir of House Harkonnen understood their words and saw they spoke truth in every syllable uttered. 

You grew more nervous with each moment the Na-Baron did not reply to your greeting. You felt rather unnerved with each passing moment he stared you down with his blue eyes, his plump yet pale lips parted as he assessed your frame. You swallowed thickly and turned to your father for some sort of comfort, but he, too, did not know how to take the Na-Baron’s silence. “My lady,” the Na-Baron finally rasped out, your skin glowing with gooseflesh at how his voice sounded— it was a sound you had not heard before, something different and interesting. All together, the Na-Baron was different and interesting. “I shall leave you two to talk and get to know each other better,” Your father said, and you willed your heart to calm as the intense stare of the Na-Baron was undoing your composure. 

“How… how are your travels, my lord?” You asked after a pause of silence, the Na-Baron wanted to roll his eyes as you had the same trite question as your father. However, he still replied. When there was silence after his answer, he watched you fiddle with your fingers and unconsciously bite your lip as you thought of another topic of conversation. “Would you like a tour of the castle, Na-Baron?” You asked, and though Feyd had little to no interest in architecture and was actually quite tired from his travels, he still felt himself nod and walked beside you as you guided him through your home. 

Feed listened to your sweet voice that sounded of harmonious melodies. Telling him of the history of your house and the decor the castle keeps. Noticing how your voice would grow slightly higher when you spoke of something that was of much interest to you. He also noticed how all who passed the two of you would bow in respect and you would offer them your sweet smile with a wave of your hand or a greeting on your lips. It should annoy him that when stood next to you, his imposing and intimidating demeanor seemed to be outshined by your charming and pleasing self. 

You two paused by a mirror, a painting atop of it, which you explained the meaning of in great detail. Feyd-Rautha caught your reflection, the two of you of stark difference. There was quite literally an aura of lightness exuding from you, the sweetness in your voice, the innocence and naivety in your eyes so entirely different against the darkness he exudes, the black that stained and hardened him. Feyd-Rauth could not take his dark eyes from your lips, the way they moved as you spoke, how you would lick them when you paused from speaking, giving them an irresistible sheen and making them look more pink and evermore kissable. 

The Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha never had the urgent desire to kiss anyone before. Yes, he had his darlings and concubines, but ever since he acquired them, he had never once kissed them first. When they started to grow slightly comfortable around him, they would kiss his lips, eager to make him kiss them back, but he never did. He did not find any sort of pleasure in kissing them. But with you… just by the look of your lips, all he wanted to do was grab your flushed cheeks and feel your mouth against his. “My lord?” You called as you had noticed that the Na-Baron was staring far off into the mirror, unresponsive to your previous calls. “Na-Baron?” You asked and gently took hold of his arm to asses if he was truly well. 

Feud felt his whole body tingle as you placed your touch atop his armor-clad arm, a concerned look on your face that he had never been the receiver of. “Are you well, my lord?” You asked with a concerned tilt of your head. “Y-Yes,” He stuttered, what had you done to him? The ferocious and fearsome fighter that he was now far gone as you blessed him with your gentle touch. “I apologize; I may have droned on for too long… I shall escort you to your chambers so you may find rest,” You said with slight embarrassment. Lowering your gaze to the floor and removing your hand from his arm. Feyd did not know how to perceive you… you were demure yet somehow confident. You were genuine, yet not at all of you could be read and deciphered by him. 

The Na-Baron once again followed you as you led him to the guest wing of the keep. His eyes were steadily at your frame, the way your hair swayed and bounced at every step you took. How you left behind a trail of your scent in the corridors, the Na-Baron greedily inhaled it and felt himself turn warm with a further push to his desires. As you had led him to his chambers to let him rest, you curtsied before him once more, the Na-Baron catching the most tempting view of your bosom. His mind and body were screaming at him to pull you into the chambers and have his way with you. To show you new dimensions of pleasures and ruin that he was certain you had never had before. But the Na-Barom did the genteel thing to do and gave a bow before watching you walk away and finally retire to his own chambers to rest. 

When the next morning came, the Na-Baron found you in the gardens once more. You kneeling by a structure that houses water with a statue in the middle of it. He curiously leaned forward to inspect what you were doing. He watched as your fingers pushed floating flowers, and a small smile grazed your face. He stepped closer, announcing his presence in the reflection of the water. He expected you to grow startled; he was waiting for the fear to come to your eyes, but he was taken aback as you turned to him with a pretty smile upon your lips. The Na-Baron swallowed thickly as he felt his heart stutter at your smile. He never thought he had one— a heart, that is. But now it announced itself greatly as it throbbed loudly in his chest when you stood and stepped closer to him. 

“I hope you had a good night’s rest, Na-Baron,” you said in your genuine tone. “I—I did,” Feyd clenched his jaw; he was stuttering again. What had you done to him? How could you have dismantled and discombobulated him with just a smile and your honey voice? “Would you care to join us to break our fast?” You asked and glanced toward the direction of the laid-out feast for the morning. The Na-baron gave a curt nod, and you led him towards the table where your parents were approaching. 

Feyd gave them a nod as they greeted him whilst assisting you into your seat. He was truly doing the most here, being obliging to you and your kin just so the courtship would be a success and he’ll finally gain a wife and a womb. Feyd listened in to the chatter between you and your parents; you were truly quite talkative. If it were anyone else, he would have grown annoyed with the incessant blabbing that he would cut off their tongue. But somehow, with you, he did not mind it. He actually found it endearing, and he wouldn’t mind for his future days to be filled with your voice. Feyd watched as you filled his cup with a dark, steaming substance. “Would you like sugar and cream, Na-Baron?” You asked and Feyd eyed curiously the liquid in his cup. He did not even know what it was, and you were offering him other substances to put on it? He declined and raised the cup to his lips. Surprised at how he quickly grew fond of the bitter, dark liquid. He watched as you added three cubes of sugar and a dollop of cream to your own cup, altering the bitterness the Na-Baron relished in. 

When the meal ended, you half expected that the Na-Baron would disappear with your father and discuss business; you were surprised that he was once again by your side. “Shall we continue on with the tour?” He asked, watching as you slightly frown. “Are you certain, my lord? I… I was afraid I had bored you yesterday with me droning on about the histories,” You say and feel your stomach fill with butterflies as the lord offers his arm for you to take. “No, I found it quite… educational,” He said and oddly felt his cold blood run warm at the smile that bloomed on your lips. You were quick to oblige his request, and his ears were filled with the soothing melody that was your voice. 

Though your voice and presence were soothing, there was a pestering feeling inside the Na-Baron. With every moment you kept your arm on him, your smile pointed towards him, and your innocent eyes looking up at him, he felt entirely guilty—guilty and torn. Were you truly the one he was meant to marry? You? So pure and innocent, a pretty little flower that would wilt under the dark, harsh sun of Geidi Prime and its heir. He could not take it upon himself to be the one to ruin you— he could not be the bitterness that seeps into your sweetness. 

As he sat across from you during dinner, a glass of bitter liquor in his hands, he had made up his mind. He could not be so cruel to be with you— you had turned his stony being soft for you and you alone. He wanted you, yes. Greatly so. With every moment spent in your presence, all he wanted to do was to take you and make every single inch of you his, but he placed great restraint upon himself as he could not tarnish your innocence. Perhaps in a few years, when the naivety of youth is gone in your eyes, and the sweetness in you has finally been diluted. Just not now.  

Feyd knew he should keep his distance, but he humored himself and escorted you to your chambers. “Good night, my lord,” You said, peering up at him. As always, he was silent. In others, you would find their silence unsettling and off-putting but with the Na-Baron, you found peace in his silence. Serenity, no matter the warnings your mother repeated at how violent and harsh Harkonnens were. There was something about his difference that attracted you greatly, which horrified your mother when you admitted to her that you developed a liking towards the young lord and how you would not be opposed to that if a match was struck between the two of you. 

You watched as his lips parted, and his dark blue eyes would trail between your orbs and your lips. You were hesitant as to where the scene would lead; you did not know if you should disappear into your chambers or stay rooted in your spot and wait for what would transpire between you and the Na-Baron. A long stretch of silence came, and you finally decided to move, a tad embarrassed as you had hoped that he would lean in closer and possibly kiss you… you have had the thought countless of time today. You let out a breath and turned away but ultimately were pulled toward Feyd-Rautha’s direction and finally felt his plush lips against yours. You tasted the bitterness of the brandy he had during dinner along with the cool taste of him… you feel cold hands cradle your cheek and the back of your head to keep you and your lips steady against his.

Feyd was proven correct at just how sweet you were. You were tooth-achingly sweet, inside and out. He pulled you closer and licked your bottom lip, expecting resistance, that your sensibilities would return pulled away. But you only let out a quiet moan and let him snake his tongue in. Feyd Rautha felt himself strain harder against his trousers, his hand that cupped your cheek trailed lower to your neck then down to your bosom. You gasped and pulled away, surprised by the immediate action. Feyd was dismayed himself as he gambled too much. He should not have dared to be so bold and quick to show all of his desires. “My lord, I…” you say in surprise, lips swollen and cheeks flushed. Eyes were flashing with a warning but deeper desire behind it. You breathed heavily as the Na-Baron backed away and stomped off, retiring to your room confused and filled with need. 

The following morning came, and Feyd’s mind was made. He could not succumb to his desires and ruin you further. He was selfish, and his mind was muddled with want when he dared to kiss you and feel you against him. He knew if he spent another moment in your presence, his control would falter, and he would finally take what he had desired the moment he saw you in the gardens. “We respect your decision, my lord, however unfortunate it is,” Your father spoke as the Na-Baron stood in his study. The sun had barely risen, and the Na-Baron was quick to speak with his host and bid goodbye. “The treaties shall still take place, but a marriage is no longer required, my lord.” The Na-Baron stated, giving the agreement as a consolation for your planet. He watched as your father nodded his head. “I shall call on my daughter for the two of you to bid good bye,” Feyd wanted to protest, cowardly as he had hoped to leave your planet without another glance at you because it would make everything all the more harder. 

You frowned as your father broke the news to you and your mother. You turned to the woman who birthed you and saw the relief in her eyes, urging you to say your goodbyes so the Harkonnen heir could finally leave. You chewed on your lip as you could conclude by the abrupt departure and change of mind of the Na-Baron. You entered your father’s study, and he quickly left to give the two of you privacy. 

You stood by the wooden door, head hung low, and could not take it upon yourself to look at the man you had hoped to be your husband. “Goodbye, my lord, I… I hope you enjoyed your stay,” you said lowly, and Feyd clenched his jaw as he heard the hint of melancholy in your voice—melancholy that he was the reason for. “I have. Thank you for your hospitality, my lady,” He said and felt his body being pulled closer to you. A pull that he himself could not hinder. He stood before you and took your chin between his rough fingers, urging you to look up at him. 

“Did I do something wrong?” You asked, guessing your startled state the other night is what had led him to the decision. If not that, it was because you were not as chaste as he may have wanted for a wife— that you were ever so enthusiastic to kiss him and let him hold you. Perhaps he thought you untamed or promiscuous which is the reason for his sudden departure. You licked your lips as he made no reply; you shielded your gaze and backed away, his hold on your chin gone. “My lord, if this is about last night, I—“ Feyd clenched his jaw as his mind made him remember the way your lips danced with each other, the way it felt to hold your soft frame against his. “It is not.” He gritted, and you immediately stopped speaking, sensing aggravation in his tone. 

“Then, may I ask what is the reason?” You asked, wanting closure for the disappointment. You listened in to his strained breathing, your eyes catching the way his fists clenched along with his jaw. “I cannot marry you… I cannot be the one to ruin you,” He whispered the last part, his rasping voice struggling to utter the words. You tilted your head in confusion, “What? I do not understand, my lord,” You said and Feyd took in a harsh breath. “You are too pure— too sweet for me. You are not suited to be in the harshness of Geidi Prime let alone be a leader to it.” He said harshly, guilt coming to him as you stared at him with slight fear and offense. “You are too innocent and… and good for someone like me; this is for the best, my lady.” 

You frowned at his words, “You cannot think me to be so delicate,” You defended yourself. The Na-Baron scoffed and shook his head, “You are delicate. You are like those flowers you are greatly fond of— just one wrong thing, and you’ll wilt. You will not wither away in my hands,” He stated, and you felt your lips twitch at how he compared you to flowers. “Is that it? You think I’m weak and too kind?” You asked and observed the way the Na-Baron nodded. “Then I am the perfect match for you, do you not think?” You said, stepping closer. 

Feyd-Rautha was at a loss for words. “If I am weak… I would need someone strong to protect me… someone who is known to be the most skillful warrior in the universe… someone like you,” You whispered and dared to take hold of his cold hand. The Na-Baron felt his heart announce its existence once more, loudly thrashing inside his chest. Your scent invades his senses and makes his knees weak. His gaze turned from looking into your enchanting eyes and then to your luscious lips. “If I am too kind, then I would need someone fearsome so people would not take advantage of me and my good nature… I would need someone ruthless as they say you are,” You whispered, pressing your bodies closer, making him see that you, too, desired him. You feel his length straining against his trousers and perfectly settle upon your stomach, your cheeks going flush at the look of great wanting in the dark eyes of the Na-Baron. 

“If I am too sweet… then I need someone bitter to balance me… I need someone like you, my lord. I want you.” You whispered, slowly going to the tip of your toes to indicate you wished for the kiss. The Na-Baron got the hint and smashed your lips. Your lips fervently danced against each other, the Na-Baron kissing you as if you were the air he needed in his lungs. “You want me?” He breathed as you both parted for air. “I do, Na-Baron.” You said. Truth in your tone. You feel wetness pool between your legs at the growl that left his throat, his lips meeting yours once more. You guided his hand to cup your bosom, just as he had wished to do so the night before. You moaned against his lips as he kneaded your chest through the soft bodice of your gown. 

You feel him guide you to your father’s desk. Perching you upon the stable wooden table and placing himself between your parted legs. Your breathing heaved as his lips were placed on your neck, the Na-Baron biting your flesh and soothing it with his tongue. You turned your head to the ceiling as you felt him hike up your gown, his cold hands leaving fiery heat with each touch. “Say it again,” Feyd demanded as his hands squeezed the plump flesh of your thighs, the heat from your core radiating and calling for him. “I want you, Feyd… I need you, please,” You pleaded and placed your lips to kiss his neck, soft lips kissing his pale flesh, teasing the ball on his throat. 

Your eyes widened as the Na-Baron pulled away, watching in shock as he went to his knees and placed his strong hold on both of your thighs, urging them to part further so his lips could be met with your cunt. You gasped as you felt him push aside your small clothes and lick your slit with his talented tongue. “So fucking sweet,” he groaned and buried his head in your needing cunt. You bit down hard at your lip as the moans you wanted to spew would surely be heard by those who stood and passed outside. “My lord,” You cried as you felt him sucking upon your pearl and his cold finger teasing your entrance. “Feyd… please!” You pleaded as you wanted to feel more. The Na-Baron hummed and obliged your request, placing a finger in your tight cunt. You hear him spew out fouled words and praises, amazed as he watches your wet cunt squeeze tightly around his fingers. “You take my fingers so well, my sweet… now let us see how you’ll manage when it is my cock.” You whimpered as he abruptly stole his pleasuring fingers away as you were on the verge of climax.  

Your eyes were hooded with lust as you watched the Na-Baron greedily suck your essence from his fingers. You felt the urge to close your parted legs to seek out friction at the way he undid his trousers and set his manhood free. Your lips parted as you saw the whole of him, throbbing and pink… the head of his length releasing sheer grayish beads that indicated how much he wanted you. Feyd growled at how shamelessly you looked upon his length, want, and lust, the only thing evident in your eyes. He smashed your lips once more and positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock gliding between your glistening folds. He pushed his way in, and he heard your sharp intake of breath, and whimpers of pain quickly followed. “This what you wanted…” Feyd gritted. A thin sheen of sweat all over his body at how you clenched tightly around him. “Yes, this is what I want.” You said, trying to prove to him that you were not as delicate as he had made you out to be. 

It took a moment before he was fully sheathed inside you. Both of you already panting. When Feyd slowly moved, he watched as your face contorted in pain, kissing away the tears that fell from your eyes as he took away your innocence. Feyd hissed as you clenched around him, finally feeling pleasure, your mouth spewing out sweet moans and calls of his name. “Look at you… my sweet, little wife, so pleasured by my cock,” The tears of pain turned to pleasure as you feel your peak quickly building up again. Feyd claimed your lips and bit down harshly to draw blood, curious to see if even your blood was as sweet as your being; it was. You moaned against his lips as your peak found you, your wetness doubling along with your sensitivity, but that didn't phase the Na-Baron.  He only continued to pound at you at a pace that would surely leave you unable to walk and sore for days to come. 

“Feyd, please…” You pleaded for something you did not know. All you knew was you were about to come once more, ready to cry out the name of the man who provided you with such blinding pleasure. The Na-Baron could usually last for hours, but with the way you clenched around him and how you sweetly moaned and called for his name, it was a miracle that Feyd had not spilled his seed the moment he pushed the head of his cock inside you. “Will you come again, my sweet? Will you come around my cock again?” Feyd hummed as his thumb circled the pearl in your cunt, making your eyes roll back in pleasure. 

“Yes…yes— oh yes!” You cried as you came, clamping around the Na-Baron’s length so tightly that he, too, joined you in your climax. His dark seed filling you and taking root. You two breathed heavily, Feyd hunching over you, who was perched upon your father’s desk. “Still too sweet and pure for you?” You asked in between breaths, watching as Feyd-Rautha wickedly smirked as his bitterness seeped into you and how his hands had tainted you. Perhaps he did need sweetness in his bitter life.

[heartfullofleeches]

Male Demon Yan Blurb

-

"Baron! I'm heading to the store!"

Three, two...

"Like hell you are!"

Combing the spot for fragile obstructions in his path, you briskly swipe a framed photo of yourself and the beast tearing his way through your home off the coffee table - gripping the item as if your life depended on it as his inhumanly large figure crouches into view.

Puffing his chest, the demon bolts his hands to his hips - glowering at you with eyes brimful with ache at your betrayal. "Its the same crap every week. You never let me go anywhere with you! What's up with that? Scared your past flings will see that you're with a real man, now?"

"Baron, you are seven foot tall demon who refuses to put on pants."

His tails swish lazily across the floor - further pointing out the obvious. "So?!"

"If you want to go outside with me without taking on a human form, you already know what you have to do."

"Yeah, yeah-" He grumbles, sticking out a clawed hand. "Hand it over."

Predicting this outcome, you place the photo back in its original position on the table - fetching a brown bottle adjacent to its placement. You pass it over to Baron - all four of his eyes squinting at the tiny print of the label.

"Wort.- Wesscester- fuck Wisiscesshr-"

"Nice try, Baron-" You rub at his bicep to soothe the pain of his loss, taking the bottle of worcestershire sauce from the demon in the process.

"DAMN IT!- Thought I had it this time.... Can you at least pick up some tomatoes for dinner while you're out?"

"Of course."

"Can I get a kiss before you go too? On both lips?..."

[sweetbuckybarnes]

Who is This?: Chapter 1

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky had a wife during the 40s, she was left heartbroken after the telegram arrived (missing, presumed dead). It's surprising when 80 years later, she was working behind a bar in Madripoor of all places!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Bucky followed Sam and Zemo into a loud bar, he immediately wanted to turn around and go home, why had Zemo demanded he go back to being the Winter Soldier (even if it was one night)?

The sound of heavy drums and guitars also deafened his hearing, a song he had come to learn was The Wild Boy by a band called Duran Duran. A few bartenders and waitresses were walking around, there was only one who stuck out to him - a dark-haired young woman who reminded him too much of his departed wife.

His heart breaks even more, thinking of the woman he had left behind, his girl. The love of his life. Bucky doesn't think he will ever 'get over' her.

The way the young woman walked, carrying a tray of empty glasses (before being tossed an empty bottle by a patron), was so similar to the way his girl walked in the hole-in-the-wall diner she worked in.

She wasn't quick enough to duck under the bar before they got to the door leading upstairs (which was coincidentally next to the bar), Zemo was talking to the bouncer. "Excuse me, gentlemen," the young woman said, squeezing between the back of Zemo and the front of Bucky. Which is when he got a good look at her face.

There she was.

His girl. His wife.

He couldn't even say anything to her, as he was taken upstairs and away from his girl. He could only hope he would be allowed back in at the end of the night to see her.

Y/N Barnes made her way behind the bar, glancing up at the TV where the Kansas City Chiefs were currently playing the Buffalo Bills at Arrowhead Stadium, then down at her phone which showed the live score of the Dodgers game against the San Francisco Giants.

She had been a long-time Dodgers girl, even after she found out they had moved from Brooklyn to Los Angeles.

"Did you see the way he was looking at you?" Yasmine asked, pushing a dry Martini in front of a 26-year-old woman.

Y/N looked up from the glasses she was putting in the dishwasher. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

"One of the men who went upstairs. The way he was looking at you," Yasmine fans her hand for dramatic effect. "I would drop my panties for him in a millisecond."

"Like you don't do that every night."

Yasmine rolled her eyes and served the next half-drunk who had come to the bar.

"Don't listen to her," Anastasia told her, rolling her eyes as Yasmine flirted with her current flavour of the week.

"It's not often I do, darling," Y/N replied, fiddling with Anastasia's curls for a second, before spotting a patron. "What can I get for you, darling?"

He hung off the bar, obviously far too drunk to understand what was going on. "Another beer and your phone number," he slurred.

She shook her head, reaching over and grabbing him another beer. As far as the boss of the bar (whoever that was) was concerned unless they were unconscious- why should you stop serving them? Y/N thought it wasn't right, but no matter how often she voiced this - she was shut down.

She set the beer in front of him and then went to the register to add it to his bill (good thing she currently has his credit card behind the bar).

"Oi, sweet cheeks!" He calls, but Y/N doesn't pay attention looking over at Yasmine and Anastasia with a raised eyebrow. "Sweet cheeks! I asked for your number."

Y/N replied by simply raising her hand proudly displaying her engagement and wedding rings to the drunk. It was only a small diamond (given Bucky worked on the docks before he was deployed), and the plain band she inherited from her great-grandmother.

"What's the matter with that 'un?" He hiccups. "He got you costume jewellery or somethin'?"

Y/N shook her head. "I'm going into the back for a moment," she tells Aidan.

Little did the drunk patron know, all those years ago, this was the date she was handed the telegraph - putting in such blunt words. Her James was missing, they presumed him to be dead. It breaks her heart that they never got to have a proper funeral.

"You alright, honey?" Elizabeth (another one of the waitresses) asked, she had been outside on her break. Elizabeth was the only one who knew her true age and about her James.

"It's the day I found out James was missing," Y/N said, before bursting into more tears.

Elizabeth wrapped Y/N up in a hug, everyone oblivious to the fact that Y/N's presumed dead husband was now running through the bar, flocked by Sam and Zemo, and into the alley behind the bar.

When Bucky was sure Zemo, Sam and Sharon were asleep, he slipped out of the safe house and into the night - determined to find out if the woman he saw in the bar was that of his (presumably? should be?) dead wife.

He eventually made his way to the front door of the bar, the bouncers had long since gone home. He could see lights on in the building and just about make out words being spoken thanks to the Super Soldier serum running through his veins.

He grasped the handle and gave it a push, the door hadn't been locked, as it gave beneath the slight push.

He could see three young women sitting on the bar, a man who was counting the money from the register and another man who was dancing.

The young woman sitting closest to the bar, had golden curls hanging around her head. "Mark, you didn't lock the door!"

The man dancing, Mark, looked over at Bucky, eyes widening when he saw the size of Bucky. "I say we just serve him, then lock the door behind him."

As the bartenders and waitress argued amongst themselves, Bucky's eyes never left the woman in the middle. It looked as if she had been crying. "Babydoll?"

The woman stopped giggling, tipping her head back to normal and looked at him, before dropping her glass as tears welled up in her eyes. "James?"

The curly-haired woman gasped, setting her glass down and giving Y/N a push off the bar.

Bucky held his arms out to catch her as her feet landed on the floor. He couldn't stop looking at her big eyes, he'd always loved her big expressive eyes. He always knew how she was feeling by just a look in her eyes.

"James? Is that you?" Her hand came out slowly, and shakily, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing in front of her.

"Hi, babydoll," Bucky smiled, tears starting to fall down his cheeks, a heavy sob held tightly in his chest at the moment in time. As soon as her fingers met his skin, Bucky let out a heavy sigh of relief, reaching over and pulling her into his arms. Y/N's arms dug themselves away from his chest and up around his neck before her hand soon started fiddling with his hair.

The couple stood there for a moment, finally finding their slice of peace. Some came barging into the bar, and the dark-haired woman who had been sitting on the other side of Y/N practically demanded Mark lock the door before the Hounds of Baskerville came in.

Y/N was so happy to finally have her James back in her arms, but there was a whirling sound she couldn't let go. "What's that noise?"

Bucky looked from his wife to his arm and back to his bride. "I'll explain everything to you later, but... I lost my arm, and I now have a prosthetic one," he tells her, letting go of her for a moment so he could take his glove off and show her the black and gold Vibranium one he had made.

"Ok, James. It's a good thing you gave me this," she reached beneath her top and pulled a ring out from beneath, hanging from a chain. "Before you were deployed."

Bucky smiled, cupping her face so he could kiss her. Bucky pulled away chuckling a little. "Babydoll, will you please put my ring back on?"

She reached behind her to unclasp the chain, and slid Bucky's band off, "if it doesn't fit we'll get it resized."

"I don't care what size it is, as long as you put my ring back where it belongs," Bucky almost growled, a piece of him falling back into place with the ring back on his finger.

The next morning - Sam, Zemo and Sharon came into the living room, seeing Bucky sleeping on the sofa (Sam was expecting this, after being told by Steve), however, there was a lump lying next to Bucky they didn't recognise.

Sam slowly makes his way over, gently easing down the thick blanket lying over Bucky and the lump.

Lying there, practically on top of the 'bionic staring machine' was a young woman.

"Did he somehow pick up a girl?" Sam whispered. Sam and Sharon were trying to be quiet - however, Zemo (who didn't care) started clattering around the kitchen, causing Bucky to wake up in a start, which then caused the young woman to look up with tired owl-like eyes.

"What the hell is going on?" Bucky nearly demanded, keeping his arms wrapped around his companion.

Sam raised his eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question, Barnes?" Sam looked at the young woman in Bucky's arms. "Who is this?"

Bucky looked down at her, Sam watched as a smile grew on his face. "This is Y/N. Y/N Barnes. My wife."

[bunnyluvx]

the arcane characters missing you!

featuring: caitlyn x f/non-binary!reader. mel, jayce & finn x gn!reader.

summary: what do the arcane characters text you when they miss you?

warnings: minors and ageless blogs dni regardless of content. do not spoil season 2 in the replies. violence mention (heimerdinger being annoyed with hoskel overexaggerated). nothing else!

tags: smau | spoiler-free! | fluff | physical affection mentions | pet names | lesbian caitlyn | canon lesbian character | jayce misses you so bad that he picks you up early

divider credit: heart by @isisjupiter, support by @cafekitsune

a/n: hi my dears!! i have been very fixated on arcane ever since season 2 came out so i present you with these! i'm very excited for the new episodes tomorrow! i hope you enjoy the silliness! <3

[juiles]

Horror Movie Queen

Requested: yes

Summary: a teen reader whos done a bunch of horror movies is filming a scene where she has to scream, freaks everyone out in the cast. Italics is the filmed scene.

Tags: really just fluff except one mention of torture and hitting

Masterlist here.

Request form here.

Taglist here:

A/N: Its short but its something new. i think im getting back to writing again so thats exciting!!

--------------------------------------------------

Y/n sat staring at the star studded cast in front of her at the reading table. Scarlett Johansson, Robert Downey Jr., Tom Holland, Elizabeth Olsen. It was wild all the people she had spent her whole life looking up to, and here she was, about to film a whole Marvel movie with them.

This was new territory for her too. A whole new genre of movie, different from the horror movies she was known for. The rest of the cast didn’t watch her movies so they didn’t know how she worked.

“Y/n? You okay?” Chris Evans asked waving his hand around in front of her face. “You zoned out there.” He added softly to the teen who flushed slightly and nodded looking down at her hands. “Have you done enough reading now? Are you ready to get into costume and makeup?”

Y/n paused for a moment picking at her fingers before she looked up and nodded. “Yeah. Ill go get ready. I’ll see you guys tomorrow?” She took a quick glance around at everyone who shot her small nods before she disappeared. When she finally came to set, fully ready for her scene, her manager waved her over.

“Okay… lets get this over with guys.” She said, her manager chuckling at the bored look on the teenagers face that was currently covered in bruises and blood, her clothes hanging off of the girls frail body, a gash across her face where a scar usually sat on her characters face.

She was filming her background scene, how her character, Maddison, got where she was, fighting with the Avengers. The torture and pain the character had gone through obvious with the way she was dressed. “Alright you, are you ready to scream?” Thomas asked the girl with a grimace, knowing what he had to pretend to do to the girl. She nodded and stepped on to the set, a cold damp cell that had red splatter all over one wall, showing what she was supposed to have gone through. Thomas stepped forward, the director getting ready for filming, unknown to the teen, the rest of her cast mates stepped in to the studio, hiding in the shadows.

Scarlett elbowed a nervous looking Lizzie who motioned to the makeup on the girls face, the blonde shook her head slightly motioning to be quiet with a finger to her lips. Evans eyes widened as he studied the gash on the girls face. They all knew it was makeup, but as they had grown protective of the young girl, it scared them all. The all focused in on the girl when the director called action.

--Filming scene--

Maddison, a 13 year old girl who had been kidnapped by Baron Strucker at the age of 5, sat huddled against the bloody wall, her whole body shaking as she slowly lifted her head, a giant gash across her face, towards the man standing in front of her. The man merely raised his hand that held a ragged, rusty dagger and slashed down at the girl, her face getting slashed.

The girl let out a blood curdling scream, a scream so loud it even made Strucker take a step back out of shock. The man then turned on his heel and slammed the cell door closed whispering to the girl. “No one will ever want someone as disgusting as you.”

--Scene over--

The director called cut and y/n stood up and with a lack of emotion on her face and grabbed her water bottle. She had barely gotten a sip of it when she was collided with, a pair of arms wrapping around her, gripping her tightly. The teen squeaked as she tried to move the blonde hair to see the horrified look of all her adult castmates standing around her. She patted the back of what she assumed to be Scarlett with a look of confusion running across her face.

“What was that?” Mark asked as he nervously twisted his hands. “How did you bring that up? That was so real…”

“What do you mean?” Y/n asked as Scarlett finally pulled back. “I’m confused?”

“It was very convincing sounding darling.” The actress said, one hand not leaving the teens arm. “Are you okay?”

“Oh. I’m fine?” She responded. “I did- have you guys never seen any of my movies?”

RDJ looked at the girl sheepishly. “Your movies are intense kid… theyre a little scary for most of us.” The teen barked out a laugh shaking her head.

“My whole career I’ve only done horror movies, that scream just is what it is at this point. Nothing behind it, just 5 years of perfecting it.” She said with a small shrug and a small smirk on her face.

“Jesus kid, you gave us a heart attack as a whole.” Hemsworth chuckled as he ruffled the girls hair making the teen roll her eyes with a small smile as she was called back to the set.

Taglist: @mythixmagic @boredandneedfanfics @natashamaximoff-69 @asiangmrchk13

[nxtaliaistyping]

Need Baron Zemo to fuck me with the mask on :(

Authors note: omg i'm not really into the mcu anymore, but nothing can stop me thinking about this man I need him so badddddd (and daniel bruhl in general tbh)

18+ nsfw, villain kink, mask kink, fingering, rough sex, brief mention of killing

Thinking about being his girl, his pretty thing that sits in his lap while he drinks the most expensive wine in his expensive penthouse (just because he's on the run, doesn't mean he can't be in style)

You know who he is, the things he's done, but you just don't care. Not when he caresses you so gently, cooing soft words in your ear of how beautiful and enchanting he finds you, how much you fill the empty void left within him after Sokovia fell and everyone he loved was wiped out.

And if anything, he's too gentle. Not wanting to frighten you, the poor little lamb that you were, cuddling up to such a dangerous man every night. So he attempts to shield things from you, what he's done and what he's capable of.

But that changes one day, you feel the compulsive need to find out more about your lover, or at least see what he's like when he's the ruthless and strategic criminal that you've been told about. This leads you to following him, not an easy task, but you see how readily he is able to get his hands dirty. Tracking down some old HYDRA agent that has information that is useful to him, and you watch in slight horror and slight awe how he interrogates the man.

Although you have to look away at certain parts, hearing presumably the agent's body hitting the cold ground with a soft thud. While you try and leave quietly, you underestimated how much planning had went into his operation, because on your attempted escape you feel a large hand grab your upper arm, yanking you towards him with force and the start of a threat before he stops.

"dragă? what are you doing here?" he asks, his tone still slightly deeper than usual as you stare into his brown eyes; the only facial features visible while he wears the dark purple mask.

As you stumble over your words, telling him that you wanted to see the real him, he can't help but notice the slight flush of your skin, the way your chest rises and your lips part. In that moment he finally understands.

"Oh...I think I understand now. My little girl likes that i'm so dangerous, hm?" he asks, and you can hear the smirk behind his teasing lilt, his head cocked to one side as you nod, embarassed.

Soon enough, he has you pinned to the wall, hand stuffed between your thighs as he fingers your tight cunt from under your skirt. You whimper and whine at his treatment, and he revels in the fact you're so depraved, so naughty, and all for him.

"Do you like this, hm sreco? I was going to take this mask off, but I have a feeling that isn't what you desire." he rasps against your ear, and you nod breathlessly at how right his assumption was. All you can do is look up at him, clenching and making a mess around his fingers as you whine.

When he pulls his fingers away, he doesn't give you time to recover before you find yourself bent over a wooden crate and his cock is forcing its way in your pussy. He's never treated you as roughly as this before, but something about his girl loving how ruthless he is, wanting him to keep his goddamn mask on, flipped a switch in him as he starts a rough pace. The echoes of his hips slamming into your ass make you flush with embarrassment, gripping the edges of the surface for dear life, pretty nails he paid for digging into the wood.

"So filthy for me, my little girl is nothing but a slut." he groans out, squeezing your ass before giving it a harsh spank. The rhythm of his cock railing you has your eyes nearly crossing, as you try not to think about the fact you're fucking an older man after he's literally just killed someone.

When he cums, he buries himself to the hilt inside of you, feeling the way you tighten around him and squeeze every last drop out. As his breathing returns to normal, so too does his headspace as he rips the mask off quickly, pulling out to shush you gently and hold you in his arms.

"There we are dragă i'm here, i'm right here. I'm sorry for being so rough."

Taking you home, he'd spoil his good girl with a bath and food, but in the back of his mind he's already planning out how he can fuck you like that again.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Fluffy Headcanons 🩶 | Hemut Zemo

Marvel Masterlist

Being in a relationship with Zemo would look like:

The man spoils you, to the point it's kinda suffocating. Considering this man is rich you can expect extravagant gifts on birthdays, anniversaries, and whenever he sees something and thinks of you. It doesn't have to be an occasion for Zemo to spend his bottomless pit of coin on you. 

Date night involving a dinner doesn't exactly mean you guys have to go out. This man can cook. He'll present you with the most gourmet meal you've ever seen, paired with a wine likely the cost of your life insurance plan, with candles lit and music flowing from the record player. "You've out done yourself once again, Helmut. It seems like I'm saying that every time we have dinner." "Well, darling, I only ensure the best for my love."

Zemo has several homes throughout the damn planet, so if you're ever feeling a change of scenery all you have to do is pick where you want to go. Paris, England, Rio, Sydney, Moscow, Los Angeles, Morocco, etc. You name it, Zemo has property there. You'll stay for weeks, maybe months, and sometimes if you like one more than the others, you'll live there for a few years and then move when the time feels right.....or when Zemo breaks the law again and now, you're on the run. 

You're the type of couple people stop and stare at. Zemo wouldn't consider himself a fashionista, but he likes to dress nice for any occasion--even grocery shopping--and that rubbed off on you. Often you'll be walking down the street and notice in your peripheral vision people pointing you out to their friends and admiring you guys from afar. "People are staring again." "Of course they are. They cannot believe they are seeing a living God/Goddess among them." 

If you have animals, it'll probably be a cat. Zemo gives off cat energy more so than dog and he'd be the type of cat person who says he dislike cats but then falls in love with one and it changes his perspective. How came to have cat likely was you feeding the neighborhood stray and taking it in, ignoring Zemo's refusal but then you catch him putting tuna on a plate and bringing home flea medicine.

Your house is covered in artwork because Zemo is a collector. There's not a single wall that is not straight out of a museum. Monet's, Picasso's, etc. Paintings and sculptures. If you ever wanted to make an exhibit in your house and have people pay to see it, you could for sure do it. 

When you have movie nights, it's basically you two analyzing every single detail and having a full-on discussion rather than watching the film. Especially if it's movies you've already seen and are rewatching. Zemo can't shut up, and you shove popcorn in your mouth while he vents about how stupid the main character was or how plot lacked consistency. If Zemo really liked a film, he'll actually shut up because he doesn't have anything to say. 

His love languages are acts of service and quality time. And you can add gifts into the mix because he loves to give you gifts. 

You two play chess a lot--It's one of the ways you have quality time together. Zemo is a master at chess and while you were weak in the beginning you quickly became a master yourself and now you two have matches lasting hours. 

Zemo has a photo album dedicated to you of all your dates and trips or special moments you shared. All taken on a film camera because while he does have hundreds of pictures of you on his phone, there's something personal and intimidate in capturing the beauty of you on film. 

You have matching jewelry you both wear and hardly ever take off. If you're married, of course you have the rings but even then, you both have matching bracelets or necklaces. It's probably got your names or initials engraved or has your birthstones. 

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙯𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙨 | helmut zemo x reader

@radmerrmaid requested a drabble with zemo and enemies to lovers. what happened is a whole oneshot. don't ask me how.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: DUBCON SMUT, enemies to lovers/hate sex, rough sex including hair pulling, degradation and name calling, restraint, a slap, and overstimulation, touchstarved reader, unspecified age gap, very mild violence (hand-to-hand combat and a mention of a previous gunshot wound), kidnapping, soft!dark zemo?

"It must drive you crazy," he purred, wrapping his fingers carefully around the crystal glass before picking it up. "Seeing me like this."

He smirked around his sip of bourbon— at least you figured it was bourbon— as you tried to keep a poker face. You didn't like the idea of being seen as crazy at all, let alone because of him. "Like what?" you pressed instead of admitting to it.

"Free," he shrugged. "Out of that cage you worked so hard to keep me in."

"Getting you there was my job," you corrected with a frown. "If keeping you there was mine, too... you'd still be in it."

He laughed lightly, if briefly, and shook his head. "Still so prideful. You're young, and you have something to prove."

"I have nothing to prove to you," you asserted, shifting your weight on your hips— it was sort of uncomfortable to keep standing, but it felt wrong to take a seat even though he'd offered you one when you entered. It seemed like a sign of trust. Not that he should be surprised by you acting aloof, when he'd offered to meet you here without even explaining why.

"No, not to me," he agreed, setting the glass down again and taking one step closer to you. "To your friends at the CIA."

He seemed to emphasize every letter of the acronym, a playful condescension in his tone. "Friends is a funny way to say it," you rolled your eyes, "like I do what I do because I want to be popular, and not because I want to keep the world safe."

"Safe from me," he added, "the evil terrorist. Right?"

You ignored his question, not really wanting to dignify it with an answer— or start some spiel about how you don't really believe in evil people, just actions that merit punishment, bla bla bla...

"Yet, you couldn't keep yourself safe from me," he went on, raising one eyebrow as he examined you. "Or, you can't. Here you are— alone, as I asked."

Obviously, you had tried to imagine some way you could have back-up for this, even just tell someone where you were going. But this was Zemo's turf, and he had eyes and ears all over the city... he would know if you tried to turn this into a sting. Instead, you only hoped to gain some sort of information tonight that you could use to track him down when he tried to run again.

"You're more trusting than I suspected," he smirked, gaze darkening a bit. "Or, more desperate."

"Maybe the right word is 'curious'," you proposed. "Clearly, you have something to discuss with me."

"I do," he nodded. "A question to ask you-- one I feel only you can answer."

You waited for him to ask it, but even just the way he sucked in a sharp breath made you realize he was going to bore you with some preamble first— just like him, really..

"You see, after evading you so many times—"

"Narrowly," you interjected.

"Maybe some times," he shrugged, smiling, "other times, I think I had plenty of room. But that's besides the point... the point is, here I am. I've probably bested you for the last time—"

"That's not—"

"Ah ah, no interrupting, please," he scolded gently. "I know you know that if I can keep a low profile here, your organization has no hope of getting me back. I simply have too many resources, and your superiors know my risk is relatively low. No?"

Again, you refused to answer, but the way you crossed your arms tighter and glanced away seemed to serve as enough of an agreement.

"So that's it— I'm free. It should be so simple," he sighed. "So, why am I disappointed?"

You furrowed your brows, staring at him in confusion. You were waiting for him to say something to give context to that, but he didn't— he only waited for your response with an earnest look. "Why... are you asking me that?" you wondered.

"Because you're the person who knows me best."

You'd never thought of it like that, and it was such a jarring idea that you began to shake your head almost instantly. "No, that... that doesn't seem right..."

"I figured you would take pride in it," Zemo grinned. "You tracked me for years, studied me, learned my habits... I had to do the same to escape you. I must know you better than anyone else."

"That's ridiculous," you scoffed. "What are you trying to say?"

"I just hoped you could tell me why I feel this way— why I feel so wrong about never seeing you again."

Your chest tightened. You couldn't bear to meet his gaze; your stomach felt sick and strange and you just wanted to run out of there, but what good would that do? You needed him to tell you something you could use, one last chance to catch him before it was too late.

"If I didn't know you so well, and hate you so much," he went on, "I wouldn't have the energy to keep running. And me? I'm your biggest case. Sometimes you act like I'm your only case. What is it about me, that you need to win against me so badly?"

"It's not you," you insisted instantly, "it's me— it's who I am."

"Maybe that's how it started," he suggested, "but you can't spend so long hunting someone without becoming a little obsessed with them— trust me, I would know."

You grimaced at him. "You— you can't be serious."

"Who will you be without me to chase?" he pressed anyways, matching some of your anger as he stepped closer again— almost too close. "Without this... passion, between us?"

"Don't step any closer," you warned.

"Or what?" he challenged. "No weapons, no soldiers— it's just the two of us here."

He stepped up again, nearly pressed against you, and you couldn't let him get away with that... you had to prove you meant what you said. You weren't armed, and you knew he wasn't someone you wanted to go up against hand-to-hand... but at the same time, it was one thing you'd always secretly wished for. A chance to wage this war the way it should be, the way it had always been: personal.

You stepped back at the same time as you swung your fist, giving yourself just enough room to gain momentum— but you weren't quite fast enough, and he blocked you. From then on it was fast, instinctual: he was stronger but you were quicker, and on the offensive.

You never quite landed a hit, but neither did he— which felt like a good sign, until you realized he wasn't really giving it his all. Dodging and blocking, yes, but he wasn't trying to win, just keep you at bay.

"Come on!" you yelled in frustration as you finally got in a kick to his chest, forcing him to stumble back and nearly fall. "What are you doing, pitying me?"

"Hardly," he wheezed, a little affected by the hit, which made you smirk. "But I don't want to hurt you."

"Please," you rolled your eyes, putting your fists up and stabilizing your posture. "If we're going to do this, let's do it right."

He came at you, and finally, there it was... his real strength. That passion he'd been talking about, you could feel it.

Both of you were flushed and panting, exhilarated by the sport of it all. Unfortunately, right as you thought you'd found your moment— the weak spot in his form— it was a trap. When you moved in closer, he grabbed you and spun you around, holding your back against his chest so tight that you struggled to breathe.

But he didn't shove you down, didn't put you in a chokehold, didn't even threaten you or gloat about pinning you. Instead, he only held you tighter, and soothed you with a gentle 'shh' in your ear when you tried to squirm out of his grasp.

"Wh-what are you doing?" you whispered, your whole body shaking as he ran his tongue up your neck.

"If it's curiosity that brought you here," he purred in response, "I can satisfy that."

"You can't be fffucking serious," you hissed, though a moan tainted your words as one of his hands ran down your body, the other still effortlessly holding you still.

"I know you so well," he went on, a deep growl in his voice as your eyes fell shut. "I know how lonely you must be. That's one of the things we share."

His hand was heavy and warm against your leg, even through your pants— and it was moving higher, petting your inner thigh as you shivered.  Though your mind longed to resist him, your body was desperate for any affection; because he was right, you were lonely.  You couldn’t think of the last time someone had touched you like this, and yet you remembered it didn’t usually feel this good.  His touch was precise and careful and teasing— not too awkward but not too cocky.  And the heat of him wrapped around you, his hot breath on your shoulder, his wider form encompassing you… how could it feel so good?

“And I know you’ve thought about this,” he added.  “That’s something we share, too.”

He couldn’t know that— he might be rich and resourceful, but he wasn’t omniscient.  If you were any more logical in that moment, you would’ve realized he was just guessing and denied it.  But his teeth brushing over your pulse didn’t exactly provoke your critical thinking skills.  “Fuck, I— fuck,” you choked out instead, shuddering when he chuckled proudly.

“You might hate me, draga, but you need me,” he explained.  “Your mind needs me, just as much as your body does.”

Something about the way his fingers traced up your side, teasing your breast before pulling away right before getting to anything too exciting… it seemed to bring you back to reality, at least partially.  You absolutely couldn’t do this— you couldn’t let him do this.  “G-get off me,” you choked out, struggling against him again.

“That’s what you want?” he taunted.

“Get the fuck off me!” you yelped.

“Make me,” he challenged.

Bringing your foot down hard on top of his, he winced and you managed to break away, spinning around and shoving him back— he actually lost his balance that time, falling to the floor.  You were ready to deliver a firm and swift kick between his legs, but rolled over and grabbed your leg while it was up, bringing you down to the floor with him.

He laughed breathlessly, sounding a little frustrated, as you flailed for purchase against the floor— only for him to grab your wrists and pin you down, positioning himself over you with a grin.  His hair was shaken out of its style, hanging around his face which was flushed from exertion.  “You keep me on my toes, I’ll give you that,” he offered.  You tried to writhe again but he had you properly trapped now, with absolutely no way out.

“You wouldn’t,” you sneered incredulously.

“Wouldn’t what, dear?”

“You wouldn’t force yourself on me,” you completed.

He seemed a little surprised, hanging his head and shaking it.  “Oh,” he breathed, “no, I wouldn’t.”

A little relieved, you started to catch your breath.

“I don’t need to.”

He brought his lips down to yours suddenly— the collision was almost too rough, and yet it was the only thing that made sense for the two of you.  You groaned in protest yet submitted instantly, opening your mouth wide for his desperate and dominating kiss.

Your back arched up off the floor, and his weight seemed to sink down on top of you in response.  Though you hated yourself for it, you spread your legs a bit, just enough for him to rest his hips between— and fuck, you could feel it.  The hard, throbbing heat, you could feel it pressed against you and the most horrible moan was nearly lost to his lips.

He hummed back proudly, running his hands over your body, kissing you faster.

You were gasping for breath when he broke away, which only worsened when he latched onto your neck.  “God, I hate you,” you blurted out, just to remind you both that if this was going to happen, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“You hate me for all those times I embarrassed you?” he assumed, hands holding your waist and starting to slide up your shirt.  “For when I eluded you, wasted your time, made a fool of you?”

“And that time you shot me.”

“I winged you,” he corrected— like that was any better.

He tugged your shirt up and you raised your arms, letting him slip it off; he spotted the scar right away, a line across your arm just under your shoulder.  He cooed for a second before kissing it softly— too gentle a moment for you to let lie.  You shoved his jacket back next, helping him slip it off his shoulders before pulling him down to kiss you again.

Your sports bra had a clasp in the front, it was a bit unique in that way, yet he had no trouble with it.  Freeing your chest, he of course had to tease you a bit more— instead of groping your waiting breasts right away, he guided your arms down from where they held onto the back of his neck, lifting you up from the floor a bit so you could slide the garment off and toss it away.  

When you laid back down, the floor was cold, but the hiss you let out was more a response to him rocking his hips against you, teasing you through these stupid remaining clothes.  “You know why I hate you?” he returned as he started to unbutton your pants, even though you’d entirely forgotten that last part of the conversation.

Before he answered the question, he yanked your pants and underwear down to your thighs— and swiftly got his own out of the way.  Your heart raced; you weren’t totally convinced this was really happening, not until he pushed into you in one painfully sudden thrust.  You cried out, yet he took no mercy on you.  He was ruthless, in fact.

Choking on your broken cries, you arched up off the floor again as he hammered into you, rage and relief and desperation evident in every movement.  He had to hold your legs tightly just to keep you from sliding across the floor, which only ensured you took every stroke as deep as it could go— which was already too fucking deep.

“Say it,” he ordered, “tell me why I hate you.”

“I caught you,” you said— but you knew that would just make him angrier.  Maybe that was kind of the idea.

Stopping just long enough to tug your pants the rest of the way off— and leaving you naked while he was still mostly dressed— he descended over you and looked right at you, far too close, with a rageful stare.

“You trapped me,” he corrected gruffly.  “You played dirty.”

Before you had a chance to retort that all’s fair in love and war, he started to pound into you… harder and meaner than ever.  You didn’t surprise yourself by crying out, considering how intense and nearly painful the feeling was, but you were a little confused that the word you said was a needy yes!

"Those years in prison," he snarled, "you could barely call it living, life in that place— you put me there. I thought every day about how you put me there."

He yanked your hair, making you whine loudly and exposing your neck for his lips and teeth to explore freely.  

Finally, a hand latched onto your chest— a hot palm encompassing your breast and skilled fingers pinching lightly at your nipple.  You couldn’t believe how composed he was through all this— in many ways, he wasn’t, but he seemed to be deliberate with every way he touched you and that was far more togetherness than you had.

You weren’t together at all, actually… something about the heat of the moment, the way your body responded to him, the way he glared at you… you could already feel tension building inside you.  It wouldn’t be long, not if he kept going like this.

“I thought about you every fucking day, draga— that you were free, and I was trapped in that cell,” he growled.  “You missed it, didn’t you?  Chasing me.”

When you didn’t answer, he struck you across the face with the back of his hand; the shock of it made your walls clench on him, or at least you could blame it on that, but you had no way to explain the way you moaned a moment later.

He moved even faster, a sickening wet sound echoing through the room which you hated to acknowledge was your own body.  “The worse I am to you, the wetter you get,” he noticed, smiling for just a moment.  “What a filthy whore you are.”

“F-fuck you,” you stammered roughly.

“Actually, why don’t you?” he offered, grabbing you by the hips and rolling both of you over until he was on his back and you were straddling him.  “Show me how bad you need it.”

As much as you wanted to not do what he told you, your hips were already moving— your body was on its own mission now, desperate for pleasure and friction and heat.  Desperate for anything he would give.  You whimpered as you grinded down on him, feeling his cock go so much deeper than you imagined was possible.  “God,” you sobbed, tossing your head back and trying not to picture the way he must have been looking at you then.

His hands moved all over you, up your thighs and over your breasts, even wrapping around your neck once though they didn’t put on enough pressure to really choke you.  “Pretty girl,” he praised darkly, making chills dance over your skin.

But when his hands settled on your hips, trying to guide you the way he wanted, you’d had enough; you grabbed him at the wrists and leaned forward, pinning his hands beside his head.  He smirked up at you at first, but when you bounced your hips up and down while hovering over him, his eyes fell shut and he let out a deep groan.  “I’m close,” you panted sharply.

“You can make yourself come like this?” he realized, sounding a little impressed.  He opened his eyes and lifted his head for a moment to get a better look at you, before almost instantly giving up again and dropping his head back to the floor with a moan.  “Fine, take it— just take what you need, draga.”

You held tighter to his wrists, mostly to keep yourself stable, and you felt his own hands ball into fists as you bounced faster.  “Oh god, oh god, oh god— yes!” you yelped, legs quivering as it struck you.  It seemed to come and go so quickly, perhaps because your strength gave out halfway through and you felt weak and paralyzed.  It had been ages since you’d felt pleasure like that… actually you weren’t sure you’d ever felt pleasure like that, at least not so much all at once.

If only he were satisfied by that.  With your grip weakened, he easily pulled his hands away to wrap his arms around you, holding you tightly and bucking his hips up into you rapidly.

“Fuck, wait, s-slow down,” you panted, whining weakly as he shook his head against the crook of your neck.

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” he purred.  “I won’t be able to slow down at all until you’re full of come, draga.  I want you dripping.”

You were all numb and limp now, so raw and sensitive inside— he put you on your back again and didn’t struggle at all to pull another orgasm from you.  The third, though, was a little more hard fought: he rubbed your clit with an almost painful amount of pressure, watching through dark eyes and with a sneering grin as you screamed and shivered.

“Not too loud, darling,” he warned, “the people in the streets might hear you, the window’s still open—”

“Fuck!” you shouted, high-pitched and shaky, and he covered your mouth with his other hand as he laid on you with a growl.

“Just one more, then I’ll fill you,” he promised.  “I only need to feel you come one more time.  You want a rest, don’t you?”

You nodded weakly, biting down on your shaking lip.

“Then give me what I want.”

Your final cry was stuttered and helpless, every final ounce of energy in your body being taken from you by the final forced peak of ecstasy.  But it wasn’t until you sighed out his name, barely audible under your breath, that he groaned against your neck and pumped himself deep inside you— every drop, leaving you full to the brim and then some.  

You didn’t even have the strength to hold onto him, but he held you far too tightly as if to make up for it, and didn’t let you go for quite some time.

It had only gotten darker and colder out, and the draft through the window eventually danced over your sweat-slickened skin.  When you shivered under him, Helmut lazily reached up to the couch nearby, pulling a throw blanket off of it and wrapping you both up in its soft embrace.  You sighed with relief from both the cold air and the hard floor, not even realizing you were falling asleep. 

Even when you woke up, you didn’t really notice that you’d been asleep— except that Helmut was gone, and the fireplace was going.  Sitting up as little as you could get away with to look for him— since moving at all was quite a task given how tired you were— you heard him coming around the corner and turned back to look at him.

He was in a robe now, and carrying two crystal glasses of water.  He smiled at you as he sat back down on the floor, laying beside you on the blanket and handing you your glass.  “Figured you would need this soon enough,” he explained with a soft voice as you sipped carefully at the water.  You weren’t really ready to talk to him yet, but you wanted to thank him for the water, so you just nodded and hoped that would get the point across.

The silence was probably only awkward for you— he seemed totally at peace, getting through most of his drink before setting it down on the floor and cuddling up to you again with a contented sigh.

You quietly drank the water, staring forward at the crackling fire, hardly believing where you were.  It actually sounded sort of romantic on paper: a dashing and wealthy older man, a penthouse apartment in a foreign city, a fire, a blanket, a crystal glass…

If it weren’t for the wanted terrorist, it might make for a good little fantasy.

Yet, you set your glass aside and laid back down with him.  He slipped an arm around you, holding your shoulder and petting it with his thumb, even kissing the side of your forehead sweetly.  “I don’t understand how you can… be like that,” you whispered, glancing down at his arm crossed over your chest.

“Not everyone is so afraid of their feelings as you are,” he countered, and you snorted a little.

“I’m not afraid of my feelings,” you denied half-heartedly.

“You’re afraid of me, then?” he wondered.

“Not… quite…” you murmured your answer, not even sure yourself what you felt.  “I mean, I drank the water, so—”

“I wondered if you would,” he laughed, “but I’m glad you did.”

“I mean, only half the glass, technically,” you noticed.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ve had enough,” he shrugged.

“Enough?” you chuckled.  “After that, half a glass of water is hardly enough.  I won’t be recovered until I have a protein-heavy meal and probably a couple painkillers— if I wanna, you know, sit or jog or whatever in the next few days.”

“I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment,” he chuckled, “but I didn’t mean enough to recuperate.  I meant enough for you to sleep until we get there.”

“...what?” you asked, turning over your shoulder with knitted brows to look at him.

“If even you know where you’re going, you might find a way to get out is all,” he explained flippantly.

“What… what are you…?” you started, shaking your head— but it didn’t shake off that funny feeling, that heaviness in your head.

“You see, I did think about you every day in my cell,” he went on, “and I thought about how, someday, I would lock you away— so you’d know how it feels, to be a prisoner.”

Whimpering as realization dawned, you sat up quickly to try to fight whatever was in that water… but it only seemed to make it worse, spots forming in your vision like when you stand up too fast— except they didn’t fade, just multiplied.

“I’ll treat you much better than I was, though,” he assured, “in fact, I think you’ll be better off than you were before… you’ll be mine, draga.  No one else will ever see you again.”

You tried to speak but it wasn’t really coming together— you tried to push him away but you only limply held onto him, looking up at his eerily blank expression with your fading vision.  As it all turned to black, he caught your head before it hit the floor, cradling it rather tenderly before kissing your cheek.

“Now,” he whispered to you, though you couldn’t possibly hear it, “let’s get you cleaned up— the plane is waiting to take you to our new home.”

[loki-quinn]

SQUEE!! Daniel brühl confirming my headcannon that Zemo is so into fashion... IS JUST YES

I love the interviewer for asking!!!

[ghrgrsfdesfrfg]

Back at it again with another OC, the Iron Maiden ! what are the secret of this serious and elegant toy ?

i hope you'll like her introduction, it took me a while to write, i also had the help of a friend who gave me tips and suggestion, if you read this you know who you are and i thank you.

Picture doesn't belong to me, credits to the artist, found on pinterest.

I wanted to make a toy with element from "The Thing" and add more horror to my ocs, there's also mention of other toy like baron, eudora and the king as well as the mysterious [REDACTED] and the reject.

Writing tips, critics and request are all welcomed here so don't hesitate to send them in the comments.

Some elements might be changed in the future but i'll make an edit if it's the case.

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Archived information about the ‘‘Iron Maiden’’:

-Experiment 1167 known as the ‘‘Iron Maiden’’ was created in 1992 to be the bodyguard of higher-ups of the company but other Maidens were also put to work at a cafe built in the game station.

-She measure 1m85 or 6,06ft in height, her body is separated in 3 parts, the first known as the “outer shell” is made of carbon and metal giving it a metallic shine and rigid movement in some case, the second is the cage inside the “outer shell” who help the final part of the body to work properly as it cover the entire interior and is akin to a skeleton of sort.

[Third part of the body will be discussed in another part of the document].

-Like huggy-wuggy she is capable of extreme act of violence thanks to her unshakable loyalty in the company and natural obedience, making the Iron Maiden an excellent toy for protection in Playtime Co.

Early life :

-Penelope Spencer was an orphan for as long as she could remember as she was given to playtime Co soon after her birth, the only memento of her parents being a letter explaining they couldn’t take care of her because of financial issue and another section with her given name and some apologies for abandoning her.

-Despite this rough start at life Penelope adjusted easily to the life of an orphan and quickly built a reputation of a reliable and obedient child willing to work and take any task given to them, sometime even helping the staff of playtime to organize activities for the children.

-Speaking of the staff, be they counselors, scientist or random cleaning crew she quickly came to associate the staff of playtime as her family even if she would only see them once or everyday. This was swiftly put to use as the staff were ordered to build a good relation with Penelope in order to gain her trust and possibly spy on the children at the orphanage or other task involving collecting information on other children without having to use the counselors or another toy.

-Soon enough she was acting as a spy of sort gathering information on whoever the scientist ordered her to spy and was rewarded with toys, books and better living conditions at the orphanage much to the anger or confusion of the orphans who didn’t understand how Penelope gained such privileges.

-The staff nurtured her loyalty by acting more and more like a family to her, giving her the connection she was always after. Even if she was an asset of the company more and more people came to appreciate her for who she was and not what she was doing for the company, even cold-hearted scientist started to like the blonde girl and her friendly, playful nature.

PROCEDURE :

-She was selected for the procedure rather early in her life and finally taken after turning 11 when the scientists didn’t need her around the orphanage anymore and decided to give her a better station (in their judgment) by turning her into the first Iron Maiden.

-The body and procedure for the Iron Maiden was upgraded and modified several time to make sure only the best candidates could be turned easily and hopefully retain a maximum amount of cognitive functions. The first procedure, specially designed for Penelope, was meant to make her into an even better Maiden compared to the future generations that came after her.

-The procedure was a resounding success despite the grueling process, her vital organs were removed and placed in a vat of Poppy-Gel for 48h in order to fuse with them and being capable of transferring the blob of flesh into it’s new body. Once the organs and Gel have fused they need to be carefully transported into the Maiden’s open body and laid in the cage then closed and left in a room with adequate temperature and constant life support to ensure the blob of flesh can properly awaken and move on it’s own inside the Maiden.

-This so called “Blob of flesh” is all that remains of the subject before being transferred in it’s new body, this mass of moving tissue, fused organs, eyes and deformed hands is capable of moving on it’s own slowly and “possessing” any maiden’s body provided it’s empty. The blob can be carried by hand but protective equipment is needed because it can produce an acidic liquid which can penetrate the skin of a human being with enough time and exposure.

-When placed in a Maiden, it anchors itself to the cage and then adapt to the shape of the body to occupy it in it’s entirety in order to use it, scientists described this disturbing process as “filling up a body with a living, breathing, massive organ and seeing it come to life”, once the adaptation is done the testing of cognitive functions starts such as using the body by moving the hands and legs or speaking because unlike many toys the Maiden doesn’t use a voice-box but modify their own vocal cords to take on a voice they like.

-Penelope or now, the Iron Maiden, adapted to her body extremely quickly despite a short period of confusion and took her security training with disturbing ease while perfecting her stealth and mannerism as she would blend in with the other Maiden’s or toys to gather information or dispose of them if needed.

Work for Playtime.Co :

-With her training done extremely quickly she was handed to Leith Pierre to act as his personal bodyguard and assassin whenever needed, she would also clean his office or bring whatever drinks he required or paper to work on, she was virtually always seen with Leith or never too far away.

-Her targets marked for assassination were often whistle-blowers, nosy journalists or disobedient employees whose usefulness came to an end either because they uncovered something they shouldn’t have or harmed the company’s interest in some way.

-She was also seen handling customers at the cafe in the Game Station when something went wrong or to lead them to a higher-up if they were to meet one although many people reported feeling the “Uncanny Valley” effect when looking at her or another Maiden for too long, this was further amplified by the fact that many Maidens kept their eyes closed (for reason we’ll explain further down this document).

-While she preferred handling her targets alone, she would sometime team up with another Maiden or even the Rat King on rare occasions however the two toys didn’t like each other much as the Maiden was suspicious of the King while he found her to be an uncompromising zealot regarding the company’s order.

-She was rewarded for her work with a better holding cell than most toys and it was more akin to a private room than an actual cell, the food given to her as a result was also of much better quality and she was even permitted to eat with other employees.

Hour of Joy:

-High involvement, she and some other maidens were focused on escorting the few high value employees like Leith Pierre to safety and exterminating whatever toy or adults coming their way, virtually every Maiden sided with the company and started an extermination campaign in the company and the various levels to purge it of the rebellious toys to varying degrees of success.

-Penelope and the [REDACTED] were the sole people responsible for Leith Pierre’s escape to safety much to the absolute rage of the toys who learned of this, Penelope was also responsible for the single highest death toll of any toys in the factory as she tore a bloody path to allow Leith to escape.

-Leith’s final order were for her to work with the [REDACTED] to capture the Prototype and secure the factory to acceptable level no matter the time it took or the methods used to do so. Leith was escorted by a high security team and left the Iron Maiden to her task, one she set out to do immediately.

-She then went to the [REDACTED] level and contacted the [REDACTED] in order to start the reclamation of the factory and capture of the prototype, this is the last know sighting of the Maiden while some toys reports seeing her in the prison alongside the Warden or in the Labs hunting the toys there.

Design:

-The attire of the Maiden is comprised of a maid uniform with an iron diadem, a white and black uniform with a royal symbol at the bottom of the robe. The symbol vary depending on the Maiden’s station and seniority.

-Her hair is made of silk to complete her regal appearance and unfortunately require a lot of maintenance, this is often done by another maiden or two employees dedicated to taking care of her hair.

-Her body is made of carbon with a mix of pliable and lightweight metal in order to sustain damage, contain the blob of flesh and it’s acid at the cost of sometime causing the maid to have rigid movement, especially when walking, talking or even cleaning.

-The first generation of Maiden were forced to keep their eyes closed as the flesh inside of them would bleed out of the socket which forced later generations to be outfitted with a small glass panel in the eye socket to prevent the bleeding.

Abilities:

-The maiden is capable of creating an acidic liquid similar to the bile produced by the stomach, she can use this acid and spit it at the enemy to melt the skin or fur over prolonged exposures and period of time. She can also coat the flesh of her body to use it as a defense mechanism or even specific part of the body such as the hands to create a lethal weapon if she were to grab or punch someone.

-The most horrifying ability of a maiden is to open her body in any way she sees fit as the cage inside her body and the outer shell is capable of splitting open in an almost limitless amount of shape like splitting her head open or even her entire body in half to absorb a very unfortunate target, she can also split another part of her body in various disturbing shape such as forcing her hand to split in dozens of parts to better grab a target.

-Once a target is incapacitated, she will split her body in whatever way she sees fit (often splitting in half) and force the target or pieces of them inside her for consumption, this is even worse for a target who can fit inside her as they are slowly dissolved by the acid and heat of the flesh.

-In some rare occasion, a Maiden is also capable of sticking to the ceiling and crawl on it if the splitting is done in the right way, this was used by some employees to give the scare of a lifetime to other when they saw a Maiden and their exposed flesh looking at them with deformed eyes and hands from the ceiling.

Employees and toy's opinion of the Iron Maiden:

-Leith Pierre who was happy about her service although slightly unnerved by the impassive face or stillness of her body, saying it was “a moving statue, unseen and undetectable”.

-Stella Greyber who saw the Iron Maiden for what they truly were, a security and surveillance system. She didn’t like them and tried to avoid them but was assigned one nonetheless, she would try to converse with the maiden but she found them to be poor conversationalist.

-Harley Sawyer who considered them a massive improvement upon all the other Bigger Body and a masterpiece of union between science and biology, although he was never assigned one because Leith Pierre didn’t trust him with a Maiden.

-The Rat King who hated her because he saw a twisted reflection of himself in her, his loyalty toward his friends and Clara was twisted to become an enforcer for the company while Penelope betrayed all the orphans for some recognition. This unnerved him as it showed him what he could’ve been, a monster dedicated to the company willing to do anything to please them.

-Baron Bon-Bon who was scared of her, seeing her as an assassin ready to strike anyone whom the company saw as a burden, he worked harder when she was around, desperate to not be seen as a target much to the twisted amusement of the employees.

-Eudora who did her best to avoid the Maiden and worked quietly when she was around, scared of the quiet monster who loomed around her train, she sadly had to work with the Maiden on some occasion when delivering certain items to the lower levels of playtime.

-The [REDACTED] who saw her as the perfect tool and ally, willing to strike down anyone and do anything in the name of the company no matter how gruesome the order is. The [REDACTED] who worked with her even after the Hour of Joy and upgraded her when needed to continue her sinister purpose.

The others Maidens who saw her as the example to follow when it came to service, obedience and performance as she was a toy held in high regard by the highest employees of the company, none faltered from doing their job be it serving customers or killing a curious journalist.

Trivia :

-Penelope was said to always be smiling or trying to cheer up other, this facade was never broken and served to gain the trust of other children. While she wasn’t as popular as David Bohman she still managed to gain a large group of friends and some of them even helped her to spy on other children although they didn’t know it was to help the company.

-Some called her a “Mini miss-Delight” due to her happy and sunny smile, always saying how her presence brightened a room with happiness and joy, she had few bullies and would even turn older, meaner children to her side in a few days at most.

-Her room was bigger and more comfortable than most orphans thanks to her service for the company as a child, her room had a radio, a bookshelf along with many toys that few orphans could afford or even obtain in the company.

-The first time her procedure was truly discussed with her was when she saw other Bigger Bodies such as Catnap or the Baron and asked a scientist if she could get a “cool body like them”, her wish was granted sooner than she ever expected.

-Even as a bodyguard for Leith Pierre himself she was still required to work at the cafe and often dealt with complaints or rowdy customers (as rowdy as someone can get drinking tea or coffee), she didn’t hate this part of her job but she appeared notably happier when she could roam around the Game Station following some employees or potential target.

-An avid consumer of tea, especially lavender tea which would often be shared with other Maidens or any employees who were nearby.

-As a child she enjoyed the Treasure Hunt of Baron Bon-Bon and won it many times, earning her two Brass Compass and a Golden Coin with her own face on it. She would also play with Mommy Long-Legs a lot, finding it fun to try and tangling her legs.

-Stella Greyber notoriously hated the Iron Maiden for who and what she was, a security system. This ironically put her high on the list of people to be watched by the Maiden much to the ire of Stella who complained to Leith about it, only to be told that each Head of the company (except Harley Sawyer) was assigned one to serve as an assistant.

-Penelope, even as the Iron Maiden would often read her books and even write some herself, most were fairy-tales or folklore from her country and had varying success with the orphans of Playcare.

-The Iron Maiden stealth’s was almost as good as the Rat King, the two would often be compared in some competition amongst the guards and made bets on who could fight the other or best them in various stealth-based bet. She could move around silently while standing up and even sneak up on someone in broad daylight and appear as if she suddenly teleported.

-Her eyes were almost always closed and despite this she could move around a huge crowd or in complete darkness without much trouble, she would only smile when asked how she could do this.

-She was later given the glass panels all Maiden were later equipped with but even then, her eyes would remain closed at all time but those who saw them said they had a beautiful purple color.

-During the Hour of Joy she would fight against many Bigger Body such as Boxy-Boo, the Reject (who made the most damage and was the most difficult to fight off) and huggy-wuggy already weakened after his fight with Eudora, few wounds or scratch were present on her body.

-Her collaboration with the [REDACTED] is a closely guarded secret and those who knows of it often try to understand their plan, only to receive an unexpected visit from the Maiden and be left with grievous wounds or outright dead.

-To this day few Maidens are left and most toy in the factory knows better than to mess with the ivory-faced Maiden, she never hunts them but word of her presence on a level of the factory is often enough to incite the toys to retreat until her departure.

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Can I Hold Your Hand?- Zemo x Reader

Summary: Zemo looks after a super soldier friend of Buckys when she’s scared

Word count: 637

✨Want to be tagged in my next Zemo fic? Click here✨

A/N: Sort of sick of seeing ex hydra/red room characters or readers being all broody and angry from PTSD, so I decided to show the other and very real side of it. This isn’t me infantilising reader, it’s just a genuine way to experience PTSD

The great expanse of the wide open streets bustling with life and music, soon became small and dangerous. You were trained, and knew that anyone who did try to approach Zemo or yourself wouldn’t get far if they tried to attack, but the thought of a conflict caused your heart to race.

Zemo was confused when Bucky had asked him to care for his fellow ex Hydra friend while he was away. Most people who had escaped Hydra or the Red Room could take care of themselves. While they were riddled with anxieties and nightmare they still managed alone, but you needed people, you needed care.

The result of years of abuse at the hands of Hydra had caused you to become vulnerable, and often needing an almost child-like protection. You’d tried to hide this need for so long, but according to a therapist Bucky had found for you, it was a very normal and natural response to PTSD.

As the walk from your day out with Zemo continued, any person you passed or sudden noise caused you to walk closer and closer to the man walking beside you. Your cowering posture and protective proximity did not go unnoticed by the Baron, but he just kept watching you, both intrigue and worry filling his mind.

Trying to remember the breathing exercises and grounding techniques you’d learn, you tried not to be afraid, but after passing under one broken street light and a box of broken glass smashing into a bin, you couldn’t help but jump. Clinging desperately onto Zemos arm, you looked into his eyes sheepishly.

“Ca-can I hold your hand?” Your meek voice asked shamefully.

Smiling down at you, Zemo knew he should have revelled in seeing an all powerful super soldier so weak and powerless, but all that flashed in his minds eye was the image of his son and his wife. Instead of disdain or twisted pleasure, your scared eyes and innocent question caused him to feel warm, and for the first time in a long time, he was a caregiver again. He felt like he was needed in the most simple and wholesome way possible.

“Of course you may, and here,” the Baron spoke as he began to take off his large expensive jacket, “take this, please, it will keep you warm. Wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I let you freeze.”

Slowly you took the coat from his hands, and slipped your arms through the jacket sleeves. Once on, you gingerly reach for his now ungloved hand.

Zemo must have taken his gloves off just to hold your hand. The thought of such a small act of kindness made you feel more cared for then you had in a long time.

The next ten minutes back to his apartment were silent, but comfortable, and as the walk continued you found yourself being closer and closer to him. By the time you arrived, your arms were linked together, and your head was resting peacefully against his shoulder.

Opening the door he ushered you inside, and though you were safe now, neither of you seemed to let go of the other. Instead his hands had slipped around your waist, and yours now rested against his chest.

You both stared into each others eyes, as if you were trying to search for an answer. He found that you were scared and safe with him, but the underlying feeling of joy that brought him, also confused him. Why did he care for you suddenly? He had only known you a few days, and yet he wanted nothing more then to see you happy and cared for.

“You’re safe now,” he gently spoke, a soft warm kiss placed on your forehead.

You can’t help but lean into his soothing touch, his very presence feeling like home.

[eraenaa]

Birthday Present

Feyd-Rautha x Lady Reader Tag List

Synopsis: During a state visit, you, a daughter of one of the great houses, have captured the attention and fatal attraction of the Na-Baron and were quickly turned into his promised wife. 

Warnings: ¿Enemies to Lovers-ish?, Arranged Marriage, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Blood Play, Fingering, Choking, Violence, Murder , Over Stimulation, Not Proofread

Word Count: 5,900 (pls bear with me)

Finally watched Dune: Part Two and needed to make a quick little fic because another psychopath to obsess over with has been unlocked.

You dreaded for this day to come. You begged your father and brother to just leave you in the safety and comfort of your home, but still, they insisted— practically forced you to join them in the business venture they will partake in Giedi Prime. You walked out of the royal ship with your brother by your side, trying hard not to let the frown slip your face, especially when your fine dress had lost its color due to the planet’s black sun. Your eyes trailed around those who were present as a welcoming party for your kin, “Why are they all bald?” You whispered to your brother, who could not help but snort a laugh at your question. It was unnerving to look at them; no warmth nor life was evident. You were escorted inside the palace and it was barely different from the outside, still bleak and dark and plain. 

You feel curious eyes trail you as you walk with your family, who are being escorted to meet Baron Vladimir Harkonnen. You clenched your jaw and held your breath as you were met with the head of House Harkonnen. You heard tales about him and his state, but none could prepare you enough to be met with him face to face. If you had thought his subjects were already unnerving to look at, you would gladly give up the gift of sight just as long as you no longer had to see nor remember the image of the gruesome Baron. You quickly planted your eyes on the ground, having looked enough at the man who floated about in the middle of the room that you had missed the way that dark blue eyes were planted steadily on your frame. 

“Welcome to Giedi Prime, your Grace,” You hear the Baron greet your Duke father, and you stay silent and hope that they would be quick with the pleasantries and let you retire to rest after the long journey to their dreary planet. You hear the baron address your brother, making him step forward, and you pray for your presence to be ignored, but alas, your name was called, and you feel all eyes upon you. “A beauty this one is, your grace… she looks just like her mother,” The Baron mussed, and you could only offer a tight smile at his praise because you had no recollection of what your mother looked like because the price of your life was hers. You backed away and took your place next to your brother once more as the Baron began to introduce his kin. 

“My nephews, Glossu Rabban,” the baron introduced, and your brother nudged you to raise your gaze and show your host respect and recognition. You did as told and locked eyes with the dark blue orbs that had been entranced upon you ever since you entered the throne room. “And Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha,” You swallowed thickly and turned stiff as the heir to House Harkonnen stepped down and walked toward your direction. Your linked arms with your brother tightened as the Na-Baron paused before you, bowing and taking your hand into his cold ones before placing a kiss on your knuckles. Feyd-Rautha wanted to smirk at the wide-eyed and blushing state he placed you in. The only greeting you gave him was a quick curtsy and a mumble of “My Lord,” The Na-Baron returned to his place at the right hand of his uncle and kept his gaze tranced on you. 

“How long are we to stay here?” You asked your father as he and your brother escorted you to your chambers. “Until the treaties are settled,” your father replied, and you scrunched your nose as the eyes of Harkonnen subjects followed you wherever you went. “They’re all staring at you,” Your brother mumbled, noticing the curious gazes as well. “Maybe they haven’t seen anyone with color or hair yet,” You distractedly said as you looked behind, the pair of dark blue eyes still haunting and following your every move. “Did I really have to come here?” You asked your father with a frown. “Yes. We could not leave you alone for an extended period— what will happen if our planet suddenly goes to war and you were there, left alone?” Your father asked, his protectiveness shining through. “Then I’d be surrounded by our army and best warriors.” You replied and earned a stern look from your father. “What am I even supposed to do here?” You grumbled and ceased by the door of your guest chambers. “You can explore the planet— do some sightseeing.” He answered, but that only severe your frown. “Sightsee what? Everything here is either black or gray— either bleak or depressing” You said, making your father sigh. “Just get ready for dinner,” He said, and you gave up on fighting them and their decision to drag you to the planet. 

A knock sounded out in your barren chambers. You understood that the palace was pushing some kind of aesthetic, but they took it to an extremity. There was literally just a bed and an armchair in your chambers. A very stark difference from your own room or even the guest chambers in your planet’s palace. Your handmaid opened the door whilst you looked at yourself in the mirror; you were to be escorted by your brother and were expecting him by the door, but hearing the gasp from your handmaid told you otherwise. You looked toward the chamber room door and saw the Na-Baron standing by its threshold; your maid stood by the side, head hung low, and was quietly trembling in fear. 

“Can we help you, Na-Baron?” You asked and smoothened the fabric of your gown. Trying your best not to appear unnerved by his dark gaze or his imposing demeanor. “I am to escort you to the dining room, my lady,” He said and offered his arm for you to take; you made no move to do so. “Oh…my brother was—“ you slightly frown as he cuts you off. “He is already there with your father,” He said, and you licked your lips and hesitantly nodded, having no choice but to take his offer to escort you. 

Feyd eyes curiously at the gown you fashioned and the decorations in your hair. You were a deep and vivid contrast between him and his planet. Your dress made of velvet trained behind you, the heavy and overflowing cloth cutting through the silence between you and the heir of House Harkonnen. You did not know if you should converse with him or just remain silent. And if you did choose the former, what topic of conversation would you even propose to the fearsome— psychotic warrior that is the Na-Baron? 

“How are you finding Giedi Prime, my lady?” His deep and raspy voice cut through the silence, and you thought of an embellished reply that would not offend the warrior. “Different… I— it is most unique, Na-Baron,” You manage to say after a short while, Feyd noting how you struggled to give a kind reply, your brows in a furrow, and your lips would open and close as you thought of what to say. 

You finally could breathe freely, and your stiffened form turned lax when the Na-Baron escorted you to your seat next to your brother and let go of his hold on your hand. You tried your best to keep your gaze away from any of the Harkonnens as you feared they would immediately see the fear and agitation in your eyes. “Is this human?” You lowly whispered to your brother, poking the cut of unidentified meat on your plate. Feyd smirked to himself as he heard the fear in your voice— overly wary, and it would seem the tales of their house had been implanted in your pretty little head. “It is cattle, my lady… but if you do prefer human flesh, our cooks could arrange that for you,” Feyd-Rautha relished at how your eyes widened and your cheeks blossomed with color once more. It was an interesting reaction that he had never been accustomed to see. “No, this is fine,” You quickly said and did not miss the amused smirk on the Na-Baron’s pale lips. 

The following day, you were set to tour around the planet with your brother along with the Na-Baron. You three had just stepped out of the palace and into the light of the black sun when your brother was suddenly summoned to attend the negotiations. You took a sharp breath and turned to your sibling, widening your eyes and silently willing him not to leave you alone in the presence of the Na-Baron. Your brother could only shrug and place a quick, chaste kiss on the top of your head as he ran back inside the castle walls. 

An awkward and uneasy silence followed you and your host as the tour began. Guards following the both of you in the direction of a large structure— that is as specific as you can get as the resident of the planet has still said no word as to where he was leading you. 

“This… is the arena,” the Na-Baron finally said, and you could hear the delight in his tone as if the brutal and triangular infrastructure had brought him calm and serenity. You nodded your head and wandered your eyes upon the high walls and countless seats that surrounded you. “You shall return here soon enough, a special celebration to take place in a few days,” You hear him say as your gaze was still stuck high above where you were guessing private boxes were placed. When Feyd did not hear your reply, he stepped closer and boldly placed a hand on your waist, making you jump in shock and quickly step away. “You don’t talk much, do you?” He asked. He usually was quiet, only speaking when he thought it necessary and the silence he provided brought an additional sense of mystery to him. But with you… he could not restrain himself as he felt the want— the need to speak. An urge he had never had before, an urge he could not control. 

“I prefer more to listen, my lord,” you answered, a white lie on your lips. You love to talk and blab about anything and everything, but you just did not want to exercise such habits with or around him, fearing he’ll grow annoyed by your yapping and slit your throat— a habit you heard he was fond of. You heard the Na-baron hum, and you avoided his gaze as he stared you down, as if trying to deduce if what you had said was the truth.

You followed the Na-Baron as he led you to more sights and structures that the Harkonnens take pride in. But everywhere you two went, you could not be rid of the curious and wondering gazes that followed. It was not a new scene; being a duke’s daughter meant you had been accustomed and exposed to the public. But being exposed and stared at and gawked at by people so different than you felt entirely unnerving. It made your skin crawl and your body tense uncomfortably. Your once proud and straight stature turned demure and small as you walked the dark and gray halls of the castle, you being the only thing of color and vividness in there, making you feel out of place and suffocated by the plainness.  

The Na-Baron escorted you back to the guest wing and paused by your door; you quickly curtsied and disappeared behind the metal doors to finally put some space and distance between you and the lord you had been forced to spend the day with. Feyd’s jaw clenched as the metal doors closed upon him; if it were anyone else, his patience would have run thin, and he would not looked kindly upon your impertinence. But even in your boorish actions, the Na-Baron could not help but find it amusing— possibly even endearing. 

As you were finished being prepared for yet another dinner, you turned to the doors once more at the sound of the opening, revealing your brother. “How was the tour?” He asked and sat by your bed as you stood in the mirror and adorned yourself with the precious metals and jewels. “When are we to leave? I… I would very much like to return home.” Was your reply as you still felt your skin crawl at how the eyes of the Na-Baron would asses you and your every move. “That bad, huh?” Your brother mused, and you sighed heavily. “I do not like it here, brother… I cannot… this place is entirely bleak and depressing.” You reasoned, and your brother only shook his head at your bellyaching. 

“They barely even have furniture! Their sun is black… there are no gardens or greenery and flowers to admire— I am quite literally the most vivid thing here!” You suddenly exploded, but your brother could only laugh. “Just a few more days, sister… we were most productive earlier. You’ll only have to endure this planet and its plainness for a few days more,” Your brother said, and you solemnly nodded your head, willing yourself to endure and be patient as your whole being wanted nothing but to return home. 

True to the Na-Baron’s words, you and your kin were in the triangular arena a few days later. A grand celebration for the birthday of the heir of House Harkonnen. Feyd-Rautha stepped out into the black sun and walked onto the pit with the screams and cheers of his house’s subjects. His eyes cast above and searched for only one being— an attention he seeks to be entranced upon him. The Na-Baron felt his lips curl wickedly as your eyes were upon him, seated in the royal box next to your brother. Your expression trying not to show contempt or disapproval. The Na-Baron was known for his skills in fighting— he is the greatest warrior there is. Everyone was impressed and in awe by his skills in combat, and he was certain that it, too, would impress you. 

You clenched your jaw and turned your head to the side as the Na-Baron was relentless in fighting the remaining members of House Atreides. You planted your gaze on your lap and fisted the fabric of your dress as you hear the land of steel and the grunts of prisoners. You took a deep inhale as your brother nudged you once more, urging you to watch the scene as it would be an offense if the Baron caught you ignoring the efforts of his favored nephew. You swallowed thickly and returned your eyes towards the men who fought; there was only one opponent now. 

Feyd-Rautha returned his gaze to you, delighting as you still had your eyes upon him. There was only one prisoner now, only one more man between him and the amazement he thought he would garner from you with his violent display. But as Feyd-Rautha set his eye on the final prisoner, his jaw ticked, and his hold on his blade tightened as he noticed that the Atreides prisoner was not drugged. He turned his spiteful gaze to his uncle, the vile man simply smirking and giving a nod of his head. Dark blue eyes flickered at you, who had her lip between he teeth in anxiousness. The Na-Baron squared his shoulders and refocused; he could not be made a fool nor a failure when the eyes of his planet were upon him— not when your eyes were upon him. As always, Feyd-Rautha emerged victorious in battle. 

“The slave wasn’t drugged,” Feyd said as he stood before his uncle, his form rigged still with the pestering feeling that he might have failed and been humiliated under your gaze. You tried to kill me?” he gritted out, but his uncle was merely amused. “Tonight, you are a hero… my gift to you,” The Baron explained, but that did not sedate the rage in the Na-Baron’s being. “I ought to drown you in that tub,” he snarled, but his uncle chuckled at his threat. “Don’t be hasty… I have another gift for you,” that piqued Feyd’s interest. “A bigger one,” his uncle added. “The girl, the duke’s daughter.” With just the mention of you, the Baron noted the quick shift in his nephew’s temperament. Desire shining through his rage. 

Feyd’s lips staggered as he thought of a reply, as he thought of how his uncle was able to acquire you for him as if you were some mere whore and not a daughter of one of the great houses. “Her father approved?” He asked and saw as a smirk rose to the lips of his uncle. “He had no choice but to… if he wanted the treaties to take place and for war to not come to their planet— he must offer his daughter to you.” Feyd let a rare and sincere grin slip his lips with the thought of you being bound to him. 

By the guest wing, an ugly discussion was taking place. “Father, you cannot be serious,” You all but cried, “To that psychotic Na-Baron!?” You screamed with tears streaming down your face. You knew it; you knew coming to Giedi Prime was a mistake— your intuition warned you greatly, but you ignored it and complied with your father’s wishes and orders. “There was no other way. I’m sorry,” Your father sighed and tried to take hold of you to calm you down. “You would leave me here to be his bride? You would leave me here vulnerable in the desolate walls of these Harkonnens?” You cried in pain, but your expression turned confused as your father shook his head. 

“The Na-Baron, your betrothed, will be heir to Arakis… you shall stay and rule there with him.” You hear the hopeful tone in your father’s voice as he tells you that you will be the lady of the most coveted seat and planet in the universe. “You… you cannot do this to me— please do not do this to me, father, I beg of you,” You cried, only crying harder as your father took you into his arms and offered you his apologies once more. Nothing can be done; you were now promised to the fearsome and formidable Na-Baron. 

They arranged for you to acquaint yourself more with your soon-to-be husband. Servants of House Harkonnen escorted you to him, and you followed mindlessly, but your stomach pitted in fear as you realized you had been led to the Na-Baron’s chambers. Your lips agape, and looked behind to see the servants hurriedly shuffling out of the Na-Baron’s room. You felt yourself grow cold and the life in your face went pale. You cautiously looked around the chambers and saw three women by your right, dressed and styled differently than the servants. The presence of women used to always bring you comfort in uncertain scenarios, but the three present did not aid your raging fear. 

“What’s so special about her?” You hear one of them drawl to the other, and you feel your lips upturn in confused fear. “Such a pitiful thing… weak and so fragile, could not even stomach to watch our lord handsomely fighting those puny slaves,” You frown and finally turn to them, the three just as eerie and disturbing to look at as any of their people, maybe even more so. “So what does she have to be rewarded with our great master Feyd-Rautha?” A third girl asked, and that is when you realized what their roles were. They looked at you expectantly, trying to know what you possessed to be rewarded or punished with the title of the Na-Baron’s betrothed. “I do not know,” you began, “Perhaps hair? Or sanity? Take your pick.” You boldly replied and watched as their teasing and amused looks turned scathing and jealous. Before any of them could make another remark, the sound of the door opening and boots walking the floor echoed through the room. Your expression was hard as you watched the three girls lower their heads demurely and out of respect as their master entered. 

“Ah, my future wife… I see you have met my darlings,” You turned to your betrothed, a smirk on his lips and his dark eyes sickeningly delighted as he was in a room filled with women he was certain would bring him much pleasure. You licked your lips and crossed your arms across your chest, your gaze flying to the three women who brazenly insulted you just mere moments ago. “You whores,” You boldly stated and let a fleeting smirk fly to your lips as you heard them hiss at your true statement. “My darlings.” Feyd-Rauth corrected, defending his loyal pets. You hummed and nodded your head. Finally, matching the fiery gaze of the Na-Baron. Every second you held his gaze, Feyd felt himself tighten against his trousers. You had always shielded your gaze from him, never letting him stare deep into those enchanting and lively eyes, and now that he did, all he wanted to do was stare into them, watch as tears would form when he made you cry in pleasure. 

“I always thought whores are acquired after marriage, but I suppose the Na-Baron is always one step ahead,” You bitterly mused at the man across from you, expecting him to grow enraged as you called his ‘darlings’ whores once more. But instead of rage, you only saw the smirk on the Na-Baron’s lips widen. “Are you jealous, little wife?” He asked and threaded closer, you let a frown slip your pretty face and a scoff left your lips. “Do not call me that,” You gritted. “And no, I am not… in all honesty, I am relieved in their existence if it means that you would be preoccupied and far from me and my bed; you could have a hundred ‘darlings’ for all I care,”  You stood your ground no matter how your mind went alarmed at the murderous look on your betrothed’s once amused expression. 

You chewed your cheeks as the Na-Baron silently motioned for the three women to step closer. You thought he was testing you, to see if you were truly unbothered and not at all jealous that your future husband was being satisfied by other women, but you gasped in horror as Feyd-Rautha swiftly took his dagger and slit the throats of his three pets. They fell at your feet, and you could only watch and step back in horror at the scene of black blood pooling and spewing from their throats. You were trembling, and Feyd-Rautha took you into his arms, forcing your face to look at him, enjoying the horror in your eyes. “Now, nothing will keep me from you and your bed, wife,” he lowly whispered, and you were defenseless as he captured your lips. Hungrily kissing you and pulling you impossibly closer to him to feel the softness of your frame as blood flooded under your feet. 

All was quick to fall into place. One moment, it was announced you were to be wed to the heir of House Harkonnen, and the next, you were being prepared for the actual ceremonies. You felt bile rising and tears falling as you stared at yourself in the mirror. A gown of white in the make and design of your home planet rather than the fashion of Giedi Prime. “You look beautiful, sister,” Your brother complimented quietly. He, too, turned solemn as he had no way to protect you from the arrangements made behind closed doors. “Let’s just get this over with,” You mumbled and took his arm for what you believed would be the last time. 

You were being escorted down the aisle by your father,  Feyd-Rautha’s eyes upon you impatiently; he could no longer wait any further and suffer through the ceremonies and banquets before he had you alone in his chambers. After your kiss two nights prior, you quickly left the chambers and left the Na-Baron to want and desire more. Each moment that had passed has left him hard and strained, with no other outlet for his needs to be quenched and met; his only choice was to wait for you to be his wife. 

It should shame you to admit, but the kiss you shared with the Na-Baron didn’t leave you disgusted. It was alarming to note that your body had turned warm, and throughout the night, your thoughts strayed to wanting more. You had been kissed before, once, but it was nothing compared to the way Feyd-Rautha kissed your lips. 

You stood by his side as a man in front spoke in a language you could not comprehend or understand. The only thing your mind could focus on was the way the Na-Baron’s hand held yours. Cold and calloused palms enclosed around warm and soft ones. You raised your gaze as the man in front of the two of you finally spoke words you understood, announcing to the room that you and the Na-Baron were officially husband and wife. You set your eyes upon Feyd-Rautha, whose dark eyes were on your lips. Letting go of your hand and taking hold of your face to kiss your lips without warning. It was a quicker kiss than the one shared the previous night, and you were dismayed yourself as your body wanted more, so much more. 

Feyd smirked as he saw color bloom onto your cheeks and felt its warmness against his cold touch. No word was exchanged as he escorted you through the aisle, the cheers of his subjects ringing loudly; absent were the reactions of you and your kin. You were still silent during the banquet, only offering a ghost of a smile when you two were approached and presented with ‘congratulations.’ You tried to ignore the way your body responded when your husband placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze now and then through the fabric of your gown. “You look ravishing, my darling,” You hear him whisper in your ear, his warm breath sending a chill down your spine. 

“Do not call me that,” you gritted as you had no wish to share an endearment he used with his whores. Feyd smirked as he believed that heard a hint of jealousy in your honey voice, “And what would you like to be called, wife?” He asked, and you clenched your jaw and thighs as that brought a surprising twist in your core. Your reaction was not missed by the Na-Baron, a wicked smirk spreading to his lips and his hand inching higher from your thigh. “Tell me, wife… are you too as excited as I am for the bedding?” He teased and nipped your ear, making you gasp, turning to him with shock and wanting-filled eyes. Your eyes shifted from his dark blue orbs to his plush lips, and the desire for it to be against you became increasingly prominent. You gulped as his eyes turned impossibly darker and his jaw clenched, you took a sharp intake of breath as he abruptly stood. “The feast is finished, leave.” That was all he said before he urged you to stand and dragged you to his chambers. 

You were like putty in his arms as he pushed you up against the cold wall of his chambers. Your lips roughly danced against each other, and his hands hiked up your wedding dress, leaving fire with his cold touch. For days, you had convinced yourself you felt no attraction to the man who had his lips on you’re neck and hand against your cunt. “You are a great actress, wife. Making me believe you hated me— wanted nothing to do with me, but that cannot be true, not when your cunt is so wet and ready for me.” You gasped as he inserted his finger inside you without warning— the feeling foreign, and you did not know if you should embrace the uncomfortability or the prospect that pleasure was quick to bloom. “So tight… my little wife had never been defiled— that shall change,” He mused against your lips, swallowing your whine when he inserted another finger inside your wet cunt. 

“M-My lord,” You cried at the curl of his finger; you heard him ‘tsk’ and rub his thumb against the sensitive bundles of nerves on your cunt. “Enough with the formalities. I am your husband, and you will call me by my name— you will scream my name when you come.” Your eyes rolled back as his other hand clasped around your neck, your husband thrilled and overjoyed as you only clenched tightly around him, and a pleasured moan slipped past your lips. He thought he’d have to be gentle with you— that he would scare you with his savage desires, but as he felt you cling and clench to him as he added more pressure around your throat, he knew you would be able to take and would be grateful for his brazenness in fucking. 

“Feyd… Feyd!” You cried as you felt your thighs tremble and your core painfully twists in want of release. You whined and cried as you felt his fingers slip out of you, your knees weak and your body desperate for release. “Patience, little wife,” Your husband cruelly mussed, his eyes locked upon you as he licked the essence of you clean from his fingers. You moaned as his lips met yours again, tasting yourself as his tongue teased yours. You whimpered as he placed his rough hands tights on your hips, imprinting his mark and making it known to you that he was yours. You groaned as he bit your lower lip hard enough to draw blood, him pulling away to admire the red the beaded on your plump, sweet lips. “Such a pretty color…” he murmured and bought his finger to wipe away the blood and taste it, you growing more aroused as a rumble emerged from his throat. Feyd watched as more blood dripped from your lips, and he wasted not a drop of it, kissing and tasting all of you. 

Feyd moved the two of you to his bed, pushing you down on the soft, silk-coved mattress. You swallowed thickly as he took out his dagger once more, a grin on his lips as he saw a speck of fear in your eyes. “Such a beauty you look in this dress… but I know you’ll look better without it,” He took the dagger and cut through your fine gown, nicking your stomach on the way. Feyd zeroed in on your sweet blood once more, his eyes hungrily taking in your body that was now exposed to him. “Oh…” You moaned as his tongue soothed the cut he made, his tongue teasing you as it would thread lower but would return to the cut every time it oozed blood. “Feyd… please,” You finally relinquished and let your needs be known. He hummed as his cock grew harder at your moans. 

“What do you want, little wife?” he hummed and took a deep breath of your scent. You whined as his tongue teased your navel, and his lips threaded further south but quickly moved north again. You moaned as his black teeth gently bit your bosom, his cold hand pawing at the other, your nipples taut by his cold hand and hot tongue. “Tell me, little wife, what do you want?” You whimpered again as nipped your skin once more, “You. I… I want you,” You finally said and yelled when Feyd flipped you to your stomach. Anticipation sat heavily as you heard him shuffling to remove his clothing. You breathed harshly as you felt his hands on your behind, kneading the smooth, plump flesh; his thumb teasingly brushed your cunt, and you were quick to moan. 

“What did you want again, my pretty wife?” He hummed by your ear, his toned body pressing against your back, his throbbing cock resting on your derrière. “You, I want you. Please, Feyd… I— please just fuck me,” You cried and let go of any pride you had in exchange for feeling pleasure. You howled as his thick and large length pushed its way inside you. Feyd hissing as the tip of his cock was being squeezed by your cunt. You were wet, galaxies, you were wet. But not wet enough for your husband’s cock to slip inside comfortably. Friction and resistance were prominent, and Feyd enjoyed that tremendously. Excruciating pain first had to be felt before you could feel the pleasure that you were desperate for. 

You gasped and felt tears rim your eyes as a cold hand found home around your neck again. “So fucking tight… all fucking mine,” Feyd hissed as he fully sheathed himself inside you; his hand felt the trickle of pained tears, and he was determined to turn it into tears of pleasure. “Such a good wife taking all of me,” He praised and squeezed your neck tighter. You whimpered and raised your gaze, only now noticing that the wall that your husband’s bed rested upon was entirely reflective that you could see him in all of his glory. Knelt behind you and a pleasured expression on his face as he gradually moved his length in and out of you. 

It felt like eons before you finally felt pleasure, but when it finally came, it was the most blissful feeling you had experienced in your life. The way he harshly gripped your throat, the way that his lips would pepper kisses on your shoulders and back, was enough to quickly drive you into climax. One where you screamed and called for his name, begging him to slow down, but he did no such thing. Only increased his speed and moved his hand to draw circles upon your bundle of nerves, coaxing another climax from you, making you scream his name louder and your body over-sensitive. “Feyd, Feyd, no more, please,” You cried as your whole body was already exhausted and trembling. 

“I do not understand you, wife. Just earlier, you were begging for this… you were begging to be fucked by me.” He grunted as he, too, felt his peak to come. He moved his hands to bundle your hair, the texture so soft and foreign, his fingers running through the locks and pulling it to make you groan. “Such a perfect cunt, such a perfect wife. You will sire me many heirs… you will always be my side.” Feyd groaned as you squeezed his length tighter and tighter to the point he felt pleasurable pain. You hear his animalistic growl when he finally spills himself deep inside of you, watching through the reflective wall as his face contorted into sheer pleasure, his rasping voice repeating your name as you feel both of your essences drip on the inside of your thigh.

He moved your head for your lips to meet with his again, him biting down to draw blood once more. You pulled away and gasped for air as well as gasped in shock as you felt his once limped and just emptied length grow erect inside you. “Did you truly think we were finished?” He asked against your lips. “I’m going to fuck and breed you until you’re unable to walk, little wife.”

[heartfullofleeches]

Gym Rat Puppyboy Reader: Great work out, man!

Baron [Yan Demon]: Oh, yeah?! Well I think you're great to be around! I wanna spend the rest of my life with you!

Puppyboy Reader: Dude....

Baron: Bro...

[The two proceed to passionately make out in the gym locker room.]

[the-dawn-star]

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's betrothed

A/N: Hey, I kind of have not gotten Feyd-Rautha out of my mind so here is a thing about him. (And all the fanfictions including him are always smut, which is fine but I want more sfw stuff too). Also, Dune has occupied like 50 % of my thoughts this year and I have so many thoughts about the Dune-show (:

TW/CW: Reader is basically having a panic attack the whole time, murders, arranged marriage.

Getting married had never been the most intriguing idea in my mind. But I had to do this. I was born into a great house and getting married to form an alliance with another house was a centuries long inevitable that most young women of the house had to go through.  

But getting married to a Harkonnen, particularly to the Na-Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen was not something that happens to everyone. But I had been given this role, being his wife, his baroness after his uncle dies at some point.  

I sat on the high balcony of the gladiator arena.  Mother and father sat next to me and on the right side of my father sat the Baron and the rest of the family next to him. My family and I had come to Giedi Prime a few days ago when my engagement was announced to me officially. And somewhere below the arena was my future husband ready to come out and fight, show his power to the thousands and thousands of onlookers.

I picked the edges of my nails. The anxiety and stress hadn’t given me a break since the ship had landed on the colorless planet. My heart hadn’t stopped its overwhelming pounding and with a glass of tea in my hand didn’t stop the shaking. Now the black dress I had been given as a gift by my future husband felt restrictive, especially with the metal jewellery that was brought from home as it was a tradition back home. 

The wedding had been planned to be in a few days and after that my only family and the only way of life that I had known was going to leave. And then I will be alone, alone on this planet with a husband who had rumours of his sadism floating around the known universe.  

I decided to concentrate on my breathing. Not letting the panic override the teachings I had learnt of the Bene Gesserit at home. I let the forced calmness overtake me but even within this state I felt the terror in the back of my consciousness. My eyes glazed over and my sight became unclear but I didn’t mind.

The fighting started as the Na-Baron arrived into the arena and I pushed my years long training past the normal. Feyd-Rautha fought just as well as I had heard. The crowds’ clamour felt like a distant whisper in my state of dissociation. With speed and technique, the future Baron took down his opponents one by one but still clearly showing off the talent he possessed with a blade. The black blood stained the ground but for a reason not known by me didn’t bother me as much as I had expected. 

--- 

The last body fell to the ground dead with his stomach bleeding of blood. The crowd erupted in cheers and I brought myself back to my body in its normal state. My ears rang and as I clapped as did my parents, still clearly disturbed by the cultural change when compared to our home. Father looked like he was ready to retch his previous meals in any second. But I had started to study the Giedi Prime culture as soon as my engagement plans were announced to me. Still, as much as I could learn, I hadn't learnt thousands of years of cultural practices so different from my own, like my parents had expected. 

My future husband made few circles around the arena, raising the audiences’ energy if it was anymore possible. His blades were dripping with blood that showed fully black to the eyes of the eager onlookers. The Na-Baron shoved one of his blades to his belt before circling back to the high seats where his family were sitting next to me and my parents.  

Without a word from anyone Feyd-Rautha dropped to his knee, raising his bloodied blade above his head as if for our box to see.  

Once again, the arena exploded in cheers to the heights I had thought were impossible to achieve.  

“He wants you to accept the engagement, girl.” The Baron’s lazy voice brought you to reality from almost a frozen state for not knowing what was happening. This was the first time the Baron had spoken to me at all, not that I had minded at all. The arena fell into an unexpected silence.  

I stood up with shaking legs, took a step closer to the edge of the box meeting eyes with my future husband. My hands started to shake and I had to squeeze my hands into fists so I could stop them. I nodded uncertainly to my betrothed below on the white sand.  

That tiny nod brought the crowd back to life as Feyd-Rautha rose up before disappearing to the tunnels below the arena where he had come from in the first place. His direction was lost by me. I was too lost in my panic and the work that I needed to do to keep it under my control.  

I let out a breath I hadn’t noticed I was holding. I turned back to my high-born parents. My mother had lost all colour from her face and was breathing even harder than I.  

“My nephew seems to have taken a liking to you, girl.” The Baron’s laughed before leaving with the rest of the Harkonnen family and servants behind him.  

“Maybe this engagement was a mistake...” My mother said in the private llanguage of your great family.  

“Do not speak of such things, wife! This is a great accomplishment for our house!” Father declared.  

My mother and I both knew not to push the topic any further.  

--- 

I had been given my own massive room at Giedi Prime as well as my own servants that were meant to take care of me even after the wedding. For the first time in my short life my servants wouldn’t report all of my movements to my parents. Now all of my movements would most likely be detailed to my future husband if not to the Baron himself.  

On top of the bed was laying one of my gifts from my new home planet. My parents were clear, I needed to acclimate to my new home as fast as possible so, I could please my new family as well as my husband without any home-sickness. At Giedi Prime the clothing didn’t seem to be as meaningful as it had been at home, not that I had anything to complain about. I or my family hadn’t been harmed, I was safe as one could be, I had been told that all that I would want would be given to me without questions, not that I had dared to ask anything.  

I felt the fabric between my fingers. It was rough, thick, heavy, opposite of the silks I had gotten used to at home. But I didn’t mind it, maybe it could warm me in this world so unknown to me. I smiled at the thought.  

A gentle knock woke me from my light daydreaming of my possible warm future.  

“Yes?” I yelled, turning to see one of my servants whose eyes were to the ground. I hadn’t learned their names yet, especially since it felt as if all of them looked so similar. I let go of the fabric, missing the feeling between my fingers.  

“The Na-Baron would like to see you...” I wasn’t sure how much it was a question and how much a demand where my own word did not matter in the slightest. So, I chose to nod without much of a pull to either direction.  

The servant left without waiting a beat and as she left another figure came to my room. This one's name I did remember. Walking through my door was the Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, my future husband who I was going to be bound to by the imperium's laws.  

I straightened my back if anymore possible and tried to keep my sisterhood training in the forefront of my mind.  

He looked just as terrifying in front of me as he had looked at the arena knives in his hands and blood on his clothes. His hands were tucked behind his back and left more space between us than was necessitated by the rulings of the imperium.  

The door closed behind him.  

“It is an honour to meet you, my lord Na-Baron...” I started making sure not to look at him directly, instead lowering my gaze.  

“No need for such formalities. We are to be married, after all...” He looked deep in thought when thinking of his next words. “You are to be my wife and the future Baroness after my uncle passes...”  

I felt the pressure which was building in the room, the space that I had started to feel was my safe haven.

I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to say to him and with this I simply nodded. Feyd-Rautha seemed content with my answer.  

“I have a gift for you...” Feyd-Rautha said as he pulled his hands behind his back. He had a rectangular silver metal box with carvings over it. He took a slow step forward, closer to me. And after seeing I didn’t flee away; he took another step and then another until he was within touching distance of me. I didn’t make a move not wanting to upset the man in front of me.  

He handed the box to me and I took it. Right after getting rid of the box, he hid his hands once again behind his back leaving me unsure what he wanted me to do.  

“Open it.”  

I took a deep breath before opening the box, barely able to do it as my hands shook. I opened it and laid my eyes on the inside. There was a laying a knife, a knife on a deep purple pillow. It was one of those hunting knives. A one that had a curve into it.  

I didn’t take my eyes off of it, unsure what would happen if I were to look at the man in front of me. What was the proper response to this?  

“It is the same blame I used today at the arena, the one I raised for you...” His voice was rough but quiet as if he were unsure of his own acts and words.  

I pulled my eyes off of the knife to face my betrothed.  

“Thank you...” I whispered, my voice weak and almost breaking but my response got an approving nod as a response. 

“Now, I must see my uncle.” 

“Of course...” I closed the box but cradled it in my arms.  

With great care he took my hand to his, pressing a momentary kiss on it before letting go and leaving without another word.  

I was left in my room alone and there I stood for a while unsure of the passage of time. I looked at the box, the carving clearly old. There were stars, forests, plants, snow, all of it as if woven into a one marvelous picture of human talent and craftsmanship that passed even the metal work of your home planet could not replicate.  

“My lady, is something wrong?”  

I turned around to the direction of the sound. The servant from before was standing by my door with shaking hands and anxiety pulsing off of her.  

“Everything is fine... The Na-Baron gave me a gift, that’s all.” I looked at the box once again and opened it, wanting to remember all of those curves in the knife.  

“He gave that to you?” The servant asked as if she needed a confirmation for my words, like she couldn’t believe me so easily.  

“Yes? Is there something wrong with that?”  

“It is an old tradition, giving a knife to the one marrying to the Harkonnen family...” She raised her eyes, giving herself a moment to look at the knife directly. “It is the same knife he used today at the arena... It shows the devotion to their future partner, that they are ready to kill for their spouse.”  

She must have realized that she was telling too much, because her gaze fell back to the floor.  

Now I was the one needing confirmation for her words. “He used this knife today...”  

I closed the box once again. The servant only nodded before leaving the room seemingly as fast as possible.  

I closed my eyes concentrating on my breathing as I let calm waves hit me. I tried to remember, no one had harmed me, even my future husband hadn’t hurt me and was as close to pleasant as most likely possible. Maybe I could survive...  

[multific]

Ghosts of Sokovia

Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader

Summary: As a journalist chasing the truth behind Sokovia’s fall, you expected danger, but not Baron Helmut Zemo himself finding you first. 

You had been warned.

Dig too deep, ask the wrong questions, and eventually, someone will come looking for you.

It seemed that day had come.

Your apartment door was already open when you returned. A chill ran down your spine as you stepped inside, clutching your bag as if it could serve as any real defence. 

The room was untouched, no signs of a struggle, no shattered glass, no ransacked drawers. 

That was almost worse. 

Whoever had been here didn’t need to search. 

They had simply waited.

The soft clink of glass drew your eyes to the living room. 

There he was.

Baron Helmut Zemo sat comfortably in your armchair, legs crossed, a glass of whiskey in hand. 

His expression was unreadable, but his eyes watched you as if he already knew your every thought before you could speak it.

“You’ve been asking dangerous questions.”

Your heart pounded, but you tried your best to steady your voice. “And you’ve been answering them by breaking into my home?”

Zemo smirked, tilting his glass in a slow, lazy gesture. “Consider it an act of courtesy. Others might not be so... civil.”

You knew who he was. 

A man responsible for the collapse of the Avengers, and for the deaths of countless people. 

A man who had spent years in prison, only to escape and disappear into the world like a ghost. 

And yet, as you sat across from him in a dimly lit café hours later, you realized you were not afraid. 

Not exactly.

“If you’re here to threaten me, Baron, I should warn you, I don’t scare easily.”

He chuckled, taking a slow sip of his drink. “If I wanted you gone, you wouldn’t be here at all.”

You swallowed hard, refusing to let his words shake you. “Then what do you want?”

Zemo leaned forward slightly, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across his face. “You seek the truth about Sokovia. I can give it to you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Why?”

He exhaled through his nose, something almost like amusement flashing in his eyes. “Because the world has already painted its version of events. You believe you are uncovering a hidden story, but in reality, you are only seeing what they allow you to see. If you truly wish to know what happened, then listen to someone who was there.”

It was a gamble. You knew it. 

And yet, you found yourself unable to walk away.

---

The more time you spent with him, the more difficult it became to separate the man from the monster.

Zemo spoke of Sokovia not with the cold detachment of a war criminal, but with the grief of a man who had lost everything. 

His wife. His son. His people. 

He did not seek pity, nor did he ask for forgiveness. He merely laid the truth before you like a blade, sharp and undeniable.

“I watched as the sky fell,” he murmured one evening, standing by the window of a safe house he had taken you to. “I heard my son call out for me. And I was too late.”

Your chest tightened. “That’s why you did all of this.”

He turned to you then, eyes dark with something unspoken. “Would you not burn the world for the ones you love?”

Your breath caught. Because at that moment, you weren’t sure you could say no.

Somewhere along the way, the lines blurred.

What began as careful interviews turned into late-night conversations. What started as caution became trust. 

And trust was far more dangerous than fear.

One night, as the rain drummed softly against the rooftop, Zemo studied you in the quiet glow of a single lamp. 

“You should leave,” he said, but there was no conviction in his voice.

You took a step closer. “Do you want me to?”

He said nothing. 

But when your fingers brushed against his, he did not pull away. 

Instead, he let out a breath, as if surrendering to something he had fought for too long. 

His hand closed around yours, firm and warm, and when his lips met yours, it was not the kiss of a villain, nor a desperate man seeking salvation.

It was something else entirely.

You knew there was no simple ending.

Zemo was still a fugitive. You were still a journalist. 

The world would not allow what had grown between you to exist without consequence. But as he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the night, he made a promise:

“This is not goodbye.”

And you believed him.

Because for all the ghosts of Sokovia that haunted him, you had become the one thing that reminded him he was still alive.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/