#rebecca ferguson x reader

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Desert Storm

Reverend Mother Jessica x Fem! Fremen Reader NSFW

Request: “Soooo I got this idea stuck in my mind. RM Jessica falls for the woman that her son, Paul, is also in love with. Basically, reader is like Chani, but not really 😅 So, RM Jessica will do everything in her power to steal her away from her own son (successfully coz she got me on a chokehold fr wink*). Yandere vibes or something close to that. I'll let you decide if you'll add some spice and everything nice.” from @buttercandy16

Warnings: Ritualistic groping, sweat and tear ingestion, erotic lactation and breastfeeding, Jessica and Alia telepathically beefing, Jessica is her own warning

A/N: Don't look me in the eyes, believe me, I know how the warnings sound. May my Catholic mother's prayers cleanse these sinful hands that hath created this abomination. (Sexy abomination, *wink wink*).

Word Count: 4.4k of filth

The water of life had opened her mind in unimaginable ways. What once had been a struggle to do, power that had been a struggle to wield, became light. Jessica could see things and feel things that felt almost wrong to be able to digest. Waking up in the midst of the Fremen Sayyadina as they were panting and sighing in ecstasy felt strange. They’d drank of the sweat on her forehead, and the potent spice had acted as a powerful stimulant, and in some cases an aphrodisiac. Jessica watched as a pair of the Sayyadina grasped another, the two of them passionately kissing one another. It was odd to see such open intimacy between two people, between two women.

“Reverend Mother, they wish to make (Reader) a Sayyadina with you.” a Fremen priestess murmured, drinking from her skin as a trickle of sweat came down her forehead.

“Bring… Her in.” Jessica whispered.

The dead Reverend Mother was bound, carried away as the remaining lucid Sayyadina did their part to prepare her. The soon to be Sayyadina, (Reader), was brought forward. Jessica stared up at her with newly blue-stained eyes. 

“You must drink of the sweat on her face.” the sayyadina instructed the girl.

Jessica watched as you kneeled in front of her, gently searching for a bit of sweat to ingest. Most of it had been taken already, only a patch on her upper lip remained accessible. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to the flesh just below her lip, gently licking away the sweat there. Jessica reached forward, hands grasping desperately at you.

“I see.” Jessica whispered, grabbing your face. “Oh, I see what he sees.”

Jessica promptly closed her eyes, dropping into a sleep of pure exhaustion. As she slept, as she dreamed, she dreamed of you. With one little touch, she’d been granted powerful insight into your being, your composition and your bearing. You were Fremen, desert strong. Capable of withstanding more than some of the most acclimated soldiers. And Jessica liked that.

“Stay with her. We will tell the man child.”

You were left to watch over the new Reverend Mother, the slow potency of the spice saturated sweat causing a slow smoldering heat in you. Several Sayyadina around you were in the middle of hunting down their husbands and partners, overcome by the effect of it all. You sat still, observing the slow breaths of the new religious leader in your group. 

<>

“Mother, she’s Paul’s!” Alia spoke to Jessica. 

It had been several weeks since Jessica had taken the water of life, several weeks since Alia had gained consciousness and begun speaking to her in utero. What had first been a new blessing had become another aggravation. Alia was sweet. Dedicated, loving and loyal to a fault. Every bit her father’s child. But Jessica shared a connection with her that allowed the child access to her foremost thoughts, desires and ideas.

“If you don’t hush.” Jessica whispered back.

“What did you say?” you asked, frowning.

“My child speaks.” Jessica replied, then adding, “Of nonsense.”

“Mom!!!” Alia cried.

You saw Jessica’s face contort into a steely expression as she appeared to silently reprimand the conscious fetus inside of her. It was strange, watching her interact with her daughter. Moreso, it was strange watching the other Sayyadina react to it all. You were with Paul mostly, attacking Harkonnen spice mining crews and machines, but recently Jessica had been requesting your presence on a frequent basis, requiring you more and more often. 

“She is… Fully conscious?” you asked, eyeing the soft bump warily.

“Mmm. Yes.” Jessica replied, eyeing you with indiscernible interest. “She speaks like an adult, I believe she has the intellect of an adult as well. However, she is inexperienced in the ways of the world and knows it only through ancestral memory. She must learn to listen to her mother.” Jessica finished, a deadly warning in her expression meant for an individual without eyes to see it with.

Jessica extended her hand.

“Feel.” 

You walked forward, a bit nervous. She was only ten weeks or so along, there was hardly a bump there. You placed your hand in hers, and she smiled, bringing it to rest quite low.*

“The baby will sit just above my pubic bone, you won’t feel movement, but you can feel the soft bump.” Jessica whispered, eyeing you in that strange way she was quite fond of.

“Oh. Thank you, Reverend Mother.” 

Jessica smiled again, gently toying with your blue headband.

“You’ve begun to wear this quite often. What does it mean?”

The question caused you to blush. The piece of fabric was quite irrelevant, but the color was significant for many things.

“Oh… Well. We Fremen wear blue when we’re in love.”

Jessica’s eyes grew sharp and her hand stilled.

“With who?” 

“Well, your son.” you admitted.

Jessica was quite silent for a period that was out of character for her. By the way she stared straight ahead, it was clear that she wasn’t talking to Alia. Her lips would often quirk when conversing with the child, and her eyes would dart around in thought. But she was deadly silent at this moment. No quiver of her lips, no movement of her eyes, not even the slightest twitch.

“I see.” Jessica finally said. “You make a mistake, assuming he can love you.” she whispered, leaning in predatorily. “My daughter Alia reminds him often that he must reserve his hand for the most diplomatically beneficial match.” 

You clenched your teeth, drawing away from her.

“Paul can make his own choices without you two involving yourselves.” you replied, venom boiling through your words.

Your feet moved of their own accord, drawing towards the exit and out of Jessica’s room, forgetting the code of conduct. You were to formally greet and bid goodbye to the Reverend Mother at all times, to provide respect.

“Stop.”

You froze, breath caught in your throat at the barked order. She’d never used the Voice on you before, and you’d never seen it used.

“You will respect your Reverend Mothers.” Jessica spoke, in a two-toned voice. “All of us.”

Chills ran up and down your spine as you turned, viewing Jessica in fear.

“Come here.”

You were forced to walk back towards her. She grabbed your face with both hands, eyes wild as she observed you. 

“I will be leaving to spread the news of Paul in the south. You will come with me.”

You shook your head. You were Feydakin, and a fighter. Your primary role to the tribe was not being a priestess, but being a fighter. To leave Paul to fight without you would leave him vulnerable, without relief from his dreams. Sure, he had Silgar, but the man was a fool and only fueled the Bene Gesserit delusions. Who would be the voice of reason amidst all of this?

“I am Feydakin.”

“No, you are Sayyadina. You go where I tell you to go, when I tell you to go. And as your Reverend Mother, I have the say over the matter. I want a fighter by my side, can’t you see?” Jessica whispered, eyes clouding over in soft anxiety. 

Even though Jessica was Bene Gesserit, you’d always had a six sense for when someone was playing you. This was Jessica playing.

“You defeated Stilgar.” you retorted. “You are fighter enough.

“But I am pregnant.” Jessica replied. “And that was weeks ago. I will only continue to get bigger, to become more immobile. I will need a trusted protector.” 

You eyed her with extreme skepticism, taking a moment to let her words hang. Most liars filled silence by instinct, word vomit flying out of their mouths under pressure. But Jessica knew that trick. And although her real reasons for having you close to her weren’t reasons previously given, her being pregnant was a viable excuse she could use if needed.

“It’s because you don’t want me to date Paul, isn’t it? My common Fremen blood isn’t good enough for him?” 

Jessica laughed. It sounded unkind.

“No. Paul would be lucky to have someone as headstrong and wise as you for a partner, especially someone who is both those things and young, fertile. But his future lies elsewhere. And I do care for you. I would hate to see you hurt.”

She stepped forward, placing both her hands on your shoulders. She was back on her game. You had a sense that she was telling the truth, but only partly.

“Paul will join us in the south when he is ready. Distance will fizzle out the bond or… Make it stronger.” her face twitched. “But I believe it will be solidly the former.”

It was a struggle to stay in that room. You wanted to run out of her room to find the nearest corner to lie in. Not cry. You were Fremen. You didn’t cry over broken hearts and star-crossed love affairs. Not even the dead.

“I wish to be dismissed.” you managed, voice hoarse.

“No. You will stay with me, in my sight until we leave. It is better this way. Separate yourself where you can.”

“Reverend Mother, I wish to leave.” you repeated.

You needed a quiet corner, a place to breathe out and vent your pain without crying. This was humiliation, this was hurtful, this was heartbreak. And you needed to deliver the burden outward. Not in front of this woman with words shaped more like daggers, chipping away at year’s worth of armor to prevent you from crying. 

“No.” 

“You don’t understand, I need-”

“I am well aware of what you think you need.” Jessica interrupted, “And I assure you that it would be better to stay with me. I am what you need.”

It was a battle. Both internal and external. But you weren’t the only one boiling with voices too loud.

“Mother let her go, mother let her go!” Alia repeated over and over. “She will crack, she will waste water, you cannot let her waste water.”

“Silence!” Jessica spat, clutching at her womb. “You, sit.” she pointed.

Her usage of the voice was becoming more and more frequent, and it was directly tied to how in control she felt. It wasn’t something she used lightly, but as tensions and excitement rose, her composure would wear slightly, and she’d use it less sparingly.

“I do not care for your insolence, Alia.” Jessica began to berate her daughter aloud. “It is both rude and unwelcome. These are adult matters. I.. Hold your tongue. Stop interrupting me.. No, I don’t care if you have an adult mind, it is quite literally irrelevant to your circle of control.”

The argument once again turned internal, with Jessica’s lips twitching wordlessly. The debate was intense, and evidently not meant for your ears.

“There.” Jessica sighed, massaging her temples. “Forgive the interruption, she is just so opinionated.” 

Her eyes flashed with her last statement, a hidden anger rooted there. Then she moved, sitting beside you with a sigh. You were still fighting tears. She reached a hand out, moving to fold a bit of your hair back into the bonnet.

“Don’t touch me.” you snapped.

Jessica snorted, continuing to fuss over your hair.

“Your hair is covered in sand.”

“We’re on a desert planet.” you retorted.

Jessica didn’t respond. Instead, she got up and grabbed a comb, undoing your day’s old braid and gently combing out the dust and sand. She braided it in a style that was a bit foreign, beginning the braid from the crown of your head instead of the root. Once complete, she tied a scarf over your hairline. A soft beige. Decidedly neutral. The blue bonnet was confiscated.

“So you’re deciding what I can and can’t feel now?” you said.

Your words sounded more wounded than you intended them to.

“No. I’m simply tying a fresh scarf over you. This one needs to dry.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You can’t clean things in the desert.”

“Air does wonderful things. So does the sun.”

The urge to backtalk her more was deafening. The words posed on the tip of your tongue, like a serpent waiting to strike.

“Come. It is time to rest.”

“It is midday, Reverend Mother.”

“And I am tired, and I will not allow you to escape from my watch. You will join me.”

Her words were not laced with a command of the Voice, but she probably could add it if you didn’t comply. Her hands pulled your outer robes off. She kept herself in a thin, sleeveless dress, pulling you into her. Why Jessica needed you this close was up for debate. You assumed it was because she desired control. She assumed that too, but a third voice quietly thought otherwise.

“You smell like the sun.” Jessica murmured, pressing her nose into your hair.

“And you smell like sweat.”

Neither scent was necessarily bad in the Fremen culture. No one would tell Jessica that her sweat was bad, a body was just a body, and it smelled as such. And the slightly burned scent of hair was just that. The sun roasted strange scents and colors into a person after a while. You would smell as such.

“Are your periods still regular?” she asked, the question phrased not unkindly.

“Yes.” you murmured. 

“Good, that’s good.”

It was odd that she’d fret over your fertility while simultaneously resenting your relationship with Paul. But she was an odd character. It would be natural for her to have odd questions.

“Closer, lie closer to me.” Jessica whispered.

This rest, you would not.

<->

“Closer, I need you closer.” you whispered, pressing your face into Jessica’s neck.

She hummed, sleepily pulling you in, adjusting the pillow around her swollen belly to accommodate your increased closeness.

“You’re needy this morning.” Jessica sighed.

“Hmm?” you frowned.

“Not you, Alia.” Jessica sighed. “You’re always welcome for a cuddle.”

She let out a contented hum, pulling you as close as she could with her belly protruding. Her nose rested against your forehead, you could feel the moisture of her breath. The cuddle lasted a few more moments before a Sayyadina entered, informing Jessica from behind the fabric curtain of her yali that breakfast would be served in a quarter of an hour.

“Help me up.” Jessica murmured, rubbing her eyes.

You gently helped her to sit, pulling back the thin sheet. Her feet were swollen.

“Oh.” you winced.

“The joys of pregnancy, I know.” Jessica sarcastically grimaced.

Her sighs of pain turned to those of relief as you slowly worked your hands over her feet, massaging the swollen calves and tendons. The Reverend Mother propped herself up with a pillow, drawing slow circles over her belly as you worked on her feet. Her lips were pursed, she was in deep conversation with Alia. Jessica laughed a little at whatever the child said, and then nodded. You watched in fascination as her belly began to tremble slightly.

“Morning exercise.” Jessica explained. “Feel.”

She held your hands over her large belly as Alia kicked inside. You could feel the consistent, violent movement inside.

“You let her do that?” you frowned.

“It’s good for her, she needs to move her limbs, she needs the stimulation. But she does ask before kicking, or does so when she requires touch.”

The explanation was sufficient, and fascinating.Hers and Alia’s relationship was complicated, but amusing from the eyes of an outsider. You grabbed her robes and yours, helping her dress. She preferred bare feet most days, but today you coerced her into wearing soft moccasins to support her tender feet. Her hands lingered over yours as you adjusted her outer robes. 

“Thank you.” Jessica murmured, pressing a slow kiss to your temple. 

Following breakfast, Jessica drew you towards the Fremen temple where the masses were meditating. Today was a more quiet moment. Jessica was requiring of a specific ritual of group contact today, a spring rite. She brought you forward, resting her legs around your hips, yours fitted loosely around her bottom. Another Sayyadina came behind her, resting her hands on Jessica’s abdomen and pressing her pelvis into Jessica’s bottom. Spice was passed around, and members slowly began to sway together in a throng. But something was different today. More Fremen holy men and women began to touch more freely with one another. The Sayyadina with her pelvis pressed against your back began to sway with you. Desire. Her breath was hot on your neck, and her hands fitted loosely on your stomach. Jessica leaned into the arms of the Fremen priestess behind her. The breath of the group began getting heavier, labored. You could feel the energy surrounding you, the heaviness in the air. Touching slowly became more sensual, caresses of the torso more common. 

Jessica kept your hands in hers, swaying more frequently. The Sayyadina behind her began to draw her hands over her more sensually, as did the Sayyadina behind you. Fingers pulling at the fabric of your robes, hands drawing over your abdomen, over your thighs, and eventually slipping up your collarbone. The Sayyadina behind Jessica was more brave, fingers kneading the swollen curves of her breasts. It was a spring ritual, meant to further the fertility of the Fremen, meant to inspire the energy of life around them. It was what the people needed, it was what the people required. But your role in this was confusing. Why had Jessica placed you opposite her? Were you a symbol of the Fremen’s future? The Sayyadina behind you placed both her hands over your womb, and a distant chant for fertility began in the back of the room. It bloomed until everyone aside from Jessica and yourself were chanting. It was deafening and was confusing. The sight in front of you didn’t help. The Sayyadina behind Jessica had her hands pressed firmly against Jessica’s chest, groping and pulling at her swelling breasts. It should have disgusted you, this sight. But it didn’t. A distinctly different feeling came forth. It wasn’t until you were out of the ritual, back into Jessica’s chambers, that you pieced it together.

“You ran off fast.” Jessica rasped, soft footsteps filling the yali.

“I had a lot to think about.” 

You noticed her bare feet. Feet that you distinctly remembered placing in moccasins earlier. Another stab of jealousy snuck up through your throat.

“Where are your moccasins, Reverend Mother?”

“Nabiya has them. I didn’t want them anymore.” Jessica sighed.

“Nabiya?”

“The Sayyadina behind me during the ritual.”

You clenched your jaw, looking away. They were confusing, these feelings you were having as of late. Jessica noted your closed off nature, laughing a little.

“Oh come on, now.” Jessica sighed, wrapping her arms around you, her belly pressing into your back. “It was a ritual, I am a pregnant, fertile woman, and a Reverend Mother. You are too. This will bring the Fremen much joy, to see their holy women fertile and strong.”

“That’s not what this is about.”

Jessica rolled her eyes, clicking her tongue softly.

“That ritual isn’t done every year. I distinctly remember the last Reverend Mother doing it last year.”

“Yes, but I am a new Reverend Mother, and we are in a time of great anxiety and excitement. It is important to encourage the community to reproduce.” Jessica murmured. “It is important to remind you of the beauty of your youth…”

“Paul is my chosen-”

“Hush.” Jessica cut you off. “None of that.”

There was a burning in your eyes, and you looked up at the ceiling of the yali to avoid crying.

“Shh, shh.” Jessica murmured, stroking your head. “You have such a limited idea of what your life could be.”

“I’m useless here.” you protested. “I should be beside him, I should be fighting for my people instead of sitting in rooms while people touch me and praise my unproven fertility.”

Jessica hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. Her hands hadn’t stilled their soothing caresses over your face and neck.

“Come, lie on the bed with me.”

You were weakened to her requests as it was a matter of compliance as well as comfort. Jessica’s arms encircled your body, and she hummed softly, drawing her fingers over your scalp.

“There will be another. One for you to love.”

“Reverend Mother, Paul said he loved me.”

Jessica smiled sadly, placing another kiss on your forehead. Her hands drew lower, resting on your neck.

“He has found another.”

All of the air escaped your lungs in a wheeze. Jessica’s forehead softened, and she brought you in for a deeper hug. 

“Don’t cry, I know, I know it hurts.” she murmured.

You got the sense that she did care. The months spent at her side as Alia had grown resulted in softer, more empathetic moments from the usually hardened holy leader. And besides Paul and Alia, you were one of the few people she cared for, probably the only Fremen she viewed as anything except a pawn.

“Who?” you whimpered. “Who does he love?”

Jessica shook her head. She pressed kiss after kiss over your face, fingers drawing up and down your back.

“Another from the North. I do not think it wise to tell you who.”

A dry sob came from your throat. You weren’t crying tears, but you were still vocalizing, much like the women of the tribe would do for the dead.

“I know it hurts.” she repeated. “So give it to me.”

Her hands held your face, and as the first tear slipped down your cheeks, her lips were there to catch it, drinking in the moisture. You only shed a few tears, it was all you dared spare, but what you didn’t expect was for her to give it back. Her lips brushed against yours, delivering a soft bead of saliva onto your tongue. She did this so tenderly, fingers stroking over your cheeks softly.

“You have such a limited idea of what your life could be.” Jessica whispered, repeating her earlier words with a hint of sensuality, with a hint of more care.

She leaned in again, her nose brushing against yours. You looked into her spice stained eyes, tentatively drawing a thumb over the tattoos on her cheeks. She smiled softly, and leaned in all the way, lips slowly dancing over yours. It was the reprieve for the ache in your heart. You were heartbroken over Paul, but over the months spent with Jessica, you’d slowly come to care for her too, and the infant child inside of her. You noted the unusual stillness of Alia, the dormant nature of the child. A hand on Jessica’s abdomen confirmed her sleepy state. If the child had been awake, there would have been a soft pressure on the other side as she touched back. Jessica pulled away, stroking your cheek. Her eyes were clouded over in a glow of satisfaction, and the telltale signs of her scheming lay in the intensity of her gaze.

“Do me a favor.” Jessica murmured. “My milk is coming in… Only a little right now, but it is better that it be extracted and taken into a body immediately.”

“I’ll get the pump and the straw so you can drink what it collects.” you assumed.

Jessica laughed softly, pulling you back into her arms before you could leave.

“No, no dear. If I was going to pump it, I would’ve done so this morning. I wish to share it.”

You balked at this, and Jessica laughed even more, her hands encircling your hot cheeks. 

“Sweetheart, please. It is a gift, and cannot be given to anyone else.”

Jessica gently parted her robes, exposing a swollen breast. Your first instinct was to turn away, but Jessica was quicker, firmly cupping your face, forcing you to meet her eyes.

“No, no. Do not pull away. Accept the gift.”

Jessica’s phrasing of the request was despicably deliberate. The gift of water was a holy, sacred act. A symbol of someone’s devotion to another. Usually it was done via spit, but if it came from the body, sharing it was a devotional act. To deny it was like denying the person, a sign of great disrespect. It was the tender touch of her thumbs over your cheeks that convinced you. A soft kiss was all the reassurance Jessica gave before she pushed you down.

“A soft latch. That’s all that’s required.” Jessica directed.

You nodded, leaning in and wrapping your lips around the stiff, brown nipple. It was warm, growing stiffer immediately between your lips. With a soft, experimental suck, a bead of milk landed on your tongue. Jessica let out a relieved moan, her hands tightening in your hair. Alia stirred slightly, but settled. She was unaware of this exchange.

“Again.” Jessica pleaded.

You’d never heard her use this tone of voice before. It was breathy, needy even. It inspired stirrings in you, made you more eager to please. You moved your lips slowly, imitating the suckling of babies you’d witnessed in the past. It required a bit of tongue and throat movement, but you managed to produce the correct combination, milk landing in steady streams on your tongue. Jessica let out pleasured hums of relief, her hands stroking over your head. It was a small amount of milk, and she went dry quickly.

“Other side now, beloved.” Jessica murmured. “And save a mouthful for me this time.”

The suggestion was odd, and a bit exciting. You were less unsure of yourself this time around, and you were careful to keep a decent amount of milk in your mouth at all times to fulfill her next request. It made the process a bit slower, which Jessica did appreciate. Her fingers could dance over your cheeks as they rhythmically hollowed. She could commit the sight of your lips on her breast to her private memory. You pulled away as she went dry, holding what milk remained in your mouth. A soft tap on your chin directed you upward, and Jessica opened her mouth, awaiting what you had collected. You released the liquid back to her in a steady stream, and she swallowed greedily, but she didn’t stop there. Her lips and tongue collected what was left, her tongue searching every crevice of your mouth for the sweet milk that remained. Her breasts dried in the humid air, and she leisurely swirled her tongue over yours, enjoying the remaining traces of her milk on your tongue. 

“Lovely.” Jessica murmured. “Now I’m nice and empty, and you’re full of my nutrients.”

There was a mildly deranged look in her eyes, and you wondered just how much her ego had swelled now that you’d nursed from her, now that you’d shared her own kiss. Her hands drew you back in, pressing your face to her neck, fingers tracing delicately through your scalp. The smell of her breast milk lingered, a sweetness that complimented her natural odor.

“Oh… The things we will be…”

[madamevirgo]

okay so i have an idea for a lady jessica x reader fic, where the reader is one of the fremen and supports and protects jessica, around the time when paul and jessica join the fremen. She is still pretty vulnerable and even a bit scared but only shows that side of herself with the reader.

obviously you dont have to write that :)

Mine to Give

Pairing: Lady Jessica x (f!)reader

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: none? Terrible writing, softness.

A/N: I took this and ran with it ijbol. I’m a little rusty, so I apologize, but I hope you’re happy with this. Thank you for the request!!

You looked up from the stillsuit that you’d been working on repairing for the last hour at the sound of rushed footsteps moving about. 

Although it was not uncommon to hear commotion about the Sietch, these sounds were different. The footsteps were rushed and had a certain urgency to them that compelled you to follow them. As you got closer to the communal space, you heard voices laced with equal parts anger and anguish. 

“What’s going on?” You asked a little boy who almost crashed into you as he was pushed back by the large crowd that had been formed. 

“Stilgar is back with the others, and they’ve brought two outsiders. One of them killed Jamis” he replied hastily, before worming his way into the crowd once more - like a little desert mouse. 

You frowned as you watched him go, trying to make sense of what he’d just said. Jamis was dead, killed by the strangers. Why would Stilgar - a man you knew to be wise and calculating - risk endangering the community by bringing the foreigners here? He wouldn’t. He had a motive and a reason, you would find out. 

—————

“I’ve been gone for weeks, and you don’t even make an effort to greet me upon our arrival.” You turned around to see Chani leaning against the entrance to your room. 

“I didn’t hear you enter the yali.” You said as you approached her with a smile and claimed her in a hug. 

“What had distracted you enough for your acute senses to have been so diminished.” She asks, and you follow her as she sits at the edge of your bed. 

You take a moment to collect your thoughts. “These outsiders that you and Stilgar have brought, what do you make of them?” 

She looks ahead, her eyes seeming to lose focus as she thinks of an answer. “They’re the last remaining survivors of the Atreides family, our latest oppressors - slaughtered in the night by the Harkonnens. The woman is a Bene Gesserit and Stilgar believes the boy to be the Mahdi, the Lisan al Gaib. You know how I feel about these prophecies that have been written to control us.” You put a hand on her clenched fist to placate her. 

“Calm yourself, my sister.” You start quietly. “I know you are suspicious by nature, but you must not let your anger cloud your vision. Trust that Stilgar knows what he is doing. Give them a chance.” 

“If I am too cynical, then you are too trusting. I fear that your heart will get you in trouble.” She says with a slight smile, making you bump her shoulder with yours. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust strangers. And this prophecy - the Lisan al Gaib is supposed to be Fremen.” She said as her eyes once again regained their previous harshness. 

“I’m an outsider,” You replied pensively. “Yet, Stilgar saved me from the desert and raised me like his daughter. Feeding, clothing and cuddling me. You have done much the same, claiming me as your sister and teaching me to fight like a Fedaykin amongst other things. So tell me Chani, by your logic - am I Fremen or an outsider.” You held her gaze awaiting her answer. She looked down with a frown, before answering.

“You are Fremen. You learned the way of our people.” she says with certitude.

You put a hand on her cheek “I am both. He too shall learn, much like I did. I know you and Stilgar will advise him - just like you did me.” You finished gently. 

“You truly live up to your name.” She said with a smile, before getting up and extending a hand to you. “Now come, the others are waiting for us and I haven’t had a proper meal in three weeks.

———

Dinner had been a very interesting affair. You got the chance to get a better look at the duo, more the boy than his mother - as her back had been turned to you. That only served to increase your curiosity and you found yourself oddly disappointed when Stilgar came to collect her. 

If you thought Chani was against them, this was nothing compared to the way Shishakli felt. The badmouthing, paired with the sight of the boy who was desperately trying to ignore the stares and the taunting comments had effectively cut your appetite and forced you to excuse yourself to go on a walk. 

You’d been wandering for a while, not paying attention to where you had ventured when you bumped into someone coming from the hallway to your left. It was only your quick Fedaykin reflexes that allowed you to grab her before she could fall. 

“I’m so sorry.” You said and as you settled on the face of the woman standing in front of you, you recognized her to be the woman outsider. A slight movement of her hand caused your attention to deflect to her growing belly. “Shai-Hulud strike me! Are you okay? I should have been more mindful of where I was going. Please sit for a moment.” You gently guided her to a resting corner that was often used for prayer. 

“It’s okay, no harm no foul.” Replied the woman as you both sat down. “I am afraid I got lost. I tried to find my way after meeting with Stilgar, but these hallways all look similar to me.” She said quietly. 

You were finally able to get a good look at her and two things stood out to you. She was insanely beautiful and the sadness that covered her features looked like it was swallowing her whole. 

“I’d be more than happy to help you find your way back to your son.” You said as you stood up and she followed suit gratefully.

“Thank you, Stilgar left pretty quickly and I didn’t get the chance to ask for directions.” She explained as you began to guide her towards her intended destination. 

“He means well, but he is a bit scatterbrained at times.” You responded with a smile. 

“I’m beginning to see that. I would’ve asked someone, but most people here look at me a certain way.” You looked at her from the corner of your eyes and saw a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. 

“You have to understand, that they’ve never met anyone like you and are weary of outsiders.” You explained as neutral as possible, not letting your need to protect your people get in the way. 

“I do understand,” she responded, probably sensing that she had hit a nerve. She was a Bene Gesserit after all. “It’s only normal under the circumstances, but still, it stings a bit.” She finished quietly. “You are different.” You inclined your head, signalling you were listening, but keeping your eyes forward. “I sense no distrust in you. You have only treated me with kindness so far. The only other person who has done that has been Stilgar.” She finished 

“That’s one of the qualities that makes my father such a great leader. As for me, I believe that everyone should be given trust and respect until proven otherwise,” you said proudly.

“You’re Stilgar’s daughter?” She asked with veiled surprise. 

“Adoptive, yes. My name is Y/n, but my people call me Amela,” you explain. 

“Y/n.” She whispers as if testing the way your name rolled off her tongue (rather well). “I’m Jessica. Amela means ‘One who hopes’, does it not? That’s a beautiful name.” You got a weird feeling in your stomach at her compliment. 

The rest of the way was completed in silence as you both were lost in your thoughts. Her more than you, as you couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering to her. After a few turns, you arrived at the communal area where you had been eating. 

“Mother!” You looked to see the other outsider approaching you at a hurried pace. “Where have you been? I was worried sick.” He said as he finally reached the both of you.

“I got lost after meeting Stilgar. Y/n here was kind enough to guide me back.” She said gesturing to you, and the suspicious look he had been giving you wavered. 

“Thank you for that. I’m Paul.” He said, extending his hand. You accepted the foreign greeting before letting go.

As you stepped away, you noticed your father in the distance and it suddenly occurred to you that you had missed him. 

“I should go greet Stilgar.” You say as you step away. Before you could leave completely you spared Jessica one last glance. “Welcome to the Sietch”. 

————

The next time you saw her, she was the Reverend Mother. You hadn’t been one of those who’d waited outside the cave where she met with the previous Reverend Mother, the thought of her potentially not surviving the ordeal made a cold sweat travel down your back. 

You were sitting in a corner in the communal area, quietly working on a defective fremkit, when you felt a figure looming over you. 

“Glad to see you survived drinking worm piss.” You said in a teasing tone. 

“Barely.” She said as she took the greeting as an invitation to claim the seat next to you. “Are you some kind of engineer?” She asked as she watched you work on fixing the fremkit. 

“I’m a Fedaykin by trade. Fixing things is just a pastime.” You explained. 

“How come you’re not outside with the others?” 

“They’re more than capable of dealing with the spice harvesters. Besides, from what I hear, your son seems to be more than enough extra help.” You closed the fremkit and handed it to her. “A gift” You explained. 

“I doubt I’ll need it, but thank you,” she says thankfully.

Her response reminded you of a conversation that you had with your father. “I intended to go find you after I finished here actually. You said as you fully focused your attention on her. “I’ve been assigned as your personal guard, by Stilgar.” you watched her for any discomfort as you uttered the words. 

“That is a bit useless. I’m sure you’ve heard of the weirding way. Much more effective than any fighting taught across the universe.” she said with disdain. 

“I’ll try not to take offence to that. Fedaykin’s fighting skills should not be discarded,” you said slightly colder than you intended. “I don’t see how me protecting you is any different from the treatment you had as a Duke’s bound concubine. But if it’s my presence that makes you feel unsettled, I can promise to not let myself be seen.” she went to argue, but the look on your face must have dissuaded her. 

“Fine, but I still think this is a waste of your time.” she relented and you let a satisfied smile appear on your face.

—-------------

For weeks, you followed the Reverend Mother around. Watching as she continued her Bene Gesserit propaganda amongst your people. You should have been angry at her brainwashing your loved ones, but you couldn’t help but focus on her more appealing qualities. 

Her beauty for one. The way she walked, sometimes seductively, sometimes like a fearless woman. You also grew protective of her, admonishing anyone who dared to utter negative words about her. And when the day had been long and the weight of her responsibilities and precognition seemed to crush her, you felt the urge to take her in your arms and tell her that you would take care of it all. But you couldn’t; you could only watch and make sure she was safe physically. 

You didn’t talk much, just like you had promised; and she did a good job at acting like you didn’t exist unless necessary. A hard task since you had been given a room in her yali. It had been a month since you’d been appointed as her guard when your relationship took a more personal turn. 

It had been a particularly long day. News from the Fedaykins had come of another successful mission, but many had been lost. Too many. Every time we received news that Paul was still alive, she cradled her belly and let out a breath. She had spent most of the day mumbling to herself, or rather her daughter. Something she seemed to do more when she was anxious. You wish she’d talk to you instead.

You were in deep sleep when a scream had you immediately jumping to your feet and running to her room, your Crysknife drawn, ready to defend your lady. You arrived and quickly surveyed the room for any imminent danger, when you saw none - you approached the bed where the Reverend Mother was trashing about. 

“Reverend Mother!” still she didn’t wake up as you avoided getting hit in the face by her wild arms. “My lady! Jessica!” finally, her eyes snapped open and she looked around in panic, before meeting your worried eyes. 

Once she did, she burst into tears. “It’s too much.” you didn’t think twice before gathering her in your arms. You understood what she meant by that. You’ve seen the toll her new position had taken on her in the past month. 

Your heart broke for her and you felt more useless than ever. You cursed the Bene Gesserit for making her this way, you cursed the Harkonnens for having disrupted her life, you cursed Paul - for whom she was doing all this, you cursed Stilgar for having entrusted her into this position, but above all - you cursed yourself for not being able to do something about it. As she cried, so did you. You who had been taught not to give your water away - you let your tears fall freely for Jessica, as you let yourself echo her pain and sorrow. 

“I’m sorry. Shh, I’m so sorry. I’m here.” you repeated these words like a litany as you held her. 

Eventually, her sobs turned to sniffles, and to hiccups before she fell asleep. You don’t know how long you stayed watching over her like a vigil. Sometimes she would whimper in her sleep and you’d pat her back softly until she was calm again. Soon, sleep also claimed you, and you fell asleep where you sat on the floor with your hand in hers, and your back against the nightstand. 

When you woke in the morning, it was in a very soft bed. The pillows smelled of something fresh. You’d heard about a place in the universe that was full of greenery and water. They called it a forest. You think this is what that must have smelled like. This is the type of comfort that it must have brought. You didn’t want to move, but when you remembered the event of the night, you couldn’t get up fast enough as you ran around to find the older woman. 

Your heart was beating in your chest, chastising yourself for having been sleeping so deeply. 

“You’re awake,” you turned around to see her coming out of the bathroom and let out a sigh of relief. 

“You weren’t there when I woke up, I thought-” You shook your head to get rid of the bad thoughts. 

“I didn’t want to wake you up after last night. Besides, it wouldn’t do any good for my bodyguard to be falling asleep on her feet.” she teased slightly, you kept your face neutral, still trying to get your heart to calm down. 

“I’m sorry”

“Thank you” 

You both spoke at the same time and you looked at her in confusion. 

“Thank you for what?”

“Why are you sorry?”

This time you allowed myself a smile to accompany hers. 

“You first, my lady.” You said gracefully 

“I am saying thank you for the comfort you provided last night,” she hesitated, before adding “For this past month, really.” she finished almost bashfully. A look you hadn’t seen on her face before. 

“I haven’t done anything worth acknowledging. Not last night, and not these past weeks. All I’ve done is follow you around.” You shrug. 

She crossed the room in three long strides before taking your hands in hers softly. 

“I know it’s been hard at times to watch me work. You don’t agree with how I’ve been spreading my doctrines - but I’ve never caught any judgment, hatred or disgust from you. You’ve been more of a companion for me.” she looked to the side and frowned, before capturing your eyes once again. “The path I’m on can be lonely, I’ve been thrown into a new culture and position with no time to adapt, collect my bearings or mourn. I’m scared, terrified actually; but it’s been a little easier with you watching my back.” she finished.

“I’ll always have your back,” You mumbled earnestly

“I know.” she taps her head slightly with a finger, to show that she can see it, and you laugh. Of course, she can. “This is only the beginning of something beautiful for you and I.” the way she looks at you causes heat to rush to your cheeks and to look away from her mesmerizing eyes. 

“What does that mean?” You ask with a nervous laugh. 

“All in due time. But please, don’t give your water away for me again,” she says softly, her hand on your cheek as if catching the tears that had fallen last night. 

A shiver runs down your back. “It’s mine to give.” 

———

Part 2

A/N: Like, share and subscribe to my chanel teehee 🥰

[cakexblankett]

Fear is the mind killer

Character

Lady Jessica

Rating

Red

Words

2.414

~•~

Fear is the mind killer.

The Bene Gesserit taught you to be cold, distant, to not let emotions control your mind, but it was hard to obey to these rules when your professor was Lady Jessica.

She didn't have to do much that your heart would beat faster and when her distant, blue eyes caught yours, it was hard to not look away.

You didn't have friends, a Bene Gesserit doesn't have time nor the need to have one, the only person you could trust was yourself. But you trusted in Lady Jessica, you put your faith and life in her hands. She could crush you in mere seconds, the power she held over you- the power you let her have, was dangerous, and you knew it, but you couldn't stop the feeling blooming in your heart.

You tried your best to not let your true emotions show. What would they think of a Bene Gesserit whose heart and mind belonged to another woman? You had to bite your tongue and keep your thoughts hidden.

"Y/N."

You bowed your head, your heart racing. Her voice was low, smooth, her true intention hidden in the words she spoke.

"Come with me."

"Yes, Lady Jessica."

You followed behind, your eyes fixed on the woman's head. Her hair was hidden by a black veil, like yours. You would have loved to feel the texture of it, to run your hand in it. You looked down, following the motion of your feet.

If anybody would have found out that you, a Bene Gesserit, were so naïve and emotional, you would have died.

You followed the older woman to her chambers. You entered, taking in your surroundings. The room, like any other, was empty, apart from a bed and a closet. You looked anxiously around you, trying to calm your nerves.

Fear is the mind killer.

"Your feelings are palpable, Y/N."

You gulped. You looked down, closing your eyes, trying to gain control over your emotions.

"I'm sorry."

Lady Jessica grabbed your chin and raised your head, her fingers gripping your flesh tightly. You opened your eyes, looking directly at hers.

"A Bene Gesserit is never sorry. Learn to control your mind and heart better."

She tightened the grip, her nails leaving small marks on your chin. You closed your eyes again, the feeling of her touch sending chills down your spine. It took everything in you to stop a moan come out of your mouth.

"Kneel."

You opened your eyes and your mouth, in disbelief. You tried to understand her intentions, but her face was blank, every muscle relaxed into a poker face.

"Kneel!"

You immediately did as you were told, your legs working on their own accord. She used the Voice, you felt her voice reverberate in your head, like a thousand angels were speaking all at once, playing with you like a puppet, pulling the strings of your body like they owned it.

The older woman gazed at your kneeling figure for a second, then turned around you. You could feel the heat of her body pressing gently on your back. Your heart was beating like crazy, your head spinned and your mouth began salivating.

You wondered what her next move would be. You tried to calm yourself down, repeating the chanting the Bene Gesserit taught you. Then, a cold and sharp object touched your throat. A knife.

Fear is the mind killer.

Lady Jessica's hot breath was in your ear, and the adrenaline shooting in your muscles made you shake.

"Command me to stop."

"Please..."

Her free hand pulled at the veil, taking it off. Then, she grasped your hair and tilted your head backwards. The knife was still, her grip firm around it.

"Don't beg, command."

You closed your eyes, your breathing staggered. You tried to find calmness and channel your inner strenght to properly use the Voice. You exhaled, thinking of all the things you could get this woman to do if you only succeeded in persuading her.

"Let me go."

You whispered, your voice feeble and distant. The knife remained on your throat, her chest pressed on your back.

"Now, haven't I taught you to do better?"

You gulped, the pressure of the knife making it difficult to swallow. All this unusual circumstance was making you feel things you didn't think you could feel.

The grip in your hair tightened, and a moan escaped you lips. You immediately shut your mouth, eyes wide.

"I-I'm sorry..."

There was a moment of silence, and you thought that that knife will soon slash your throat. Then, she laughed. Her laugh was angelical, but it wasn't strange since she was like a divinity to you. The knife left your throat but her hand remained in your hair. Her body pressed tighter on your back.

"Does it arouse you? Feeling me so close to you..."

She licked your earlobe and you shuddered. You were still kneeling, but didn't dare to get up. It felt like she was playing with you, like she was playing with her prey. You wondered what her next move would be.

"Let me hear more."

Nothing could have prepared you for what happened next. She pushed you down, her body leaving yours. You whined for the loss of warmth. You turned your head as much as you could to see her standing majestically, looking at you with a dark smirk on her face. Then, she raised her foot and stepped on you, the heel of her boot pressing gently on your back.

You had to squeeze your thighs together, feeling needy.

"Command me to stop."

You stayed silent. Her smirk got even wider.

"You're really finding pleasure in this, aren't you?"

She pressed her foot on your back slightly harder, making you whince.

"You know, I've known a lot of men and women whose desires were... strange, to say the least. But this..."

She twisted her foot, the motion giving you pain, but you felt pleasure from it.

"You're such a good little pet."

You moaned at the name. She could do anything to you and you would have thanked her. You never would have dreamed to find yourself in such a position, but you were thankful you were.

Her boot left your back, making you sigh.

"Get up."

You immediately did as told, looking in her eyes. They were darker than you had ever seen them, and a thought occured to you: she was enjoying it too.

She took off her veil, that found place near yours on the floor. Her hair was long and luscious, and your first instinct was to touch it. You stopped your hand in mid-air and saw her smile softly.

"It's alright, you can touch it."

You took in your hand a strand of her hair and felt the smoothness of it. It was like water, soft and straight and it almost glowed of a red light, maybe warning you of something.

You looked up at her and flashed a smile, your hand still in her hair.

"I always wanted to do this."

"I know."

You wondered what else she knew. Then, she took your hands in hers and came closer. Your lips were almost touching, you could feel excitement and nervousness shoot in you.

"Kiss me."

You whispered. She smirked, her eyes locked in yours.

"Command me to do it."

You tried your best to gather your will and power to properly use the Voice. You thought of her lips on yours, on how it would feel to have her kiss you.

"Kiss me."

She closed her eyes, her lips parting. You thought you did it, but then her eyes opened and she smiled. You whined.

"Almost."

You took courage and kissed her anyway. Her lips were soft and sweet, and your chest almost exploded from the joy you felt. Butterflies began racing in your stomach. You felt sick from all the emotions you were experiencing in that moment.

She didn't back away, instead she bit your bottom lip and you gasped at the slight pain of her teeth sunking in your flesh. You eventually had to part to breathe.

"Tell me, what does your heart desire?"

At the back of your mind, a small voice was yelling at you that this was all a test, to see if you learned the Bene Gesserit way, but it was so distant and fragile that you didn't even thought of listening to it. Instead, your mind was on fire, you couldn't think straight anymore. You could still taste her on your lips and you felt the presence of hers on yours. It was like her ghost was still kissing you.

"I want you."

You mumbled out, your eyes on her lips. She smirked, enjoying seeing you so weak and needy.

"What would the others think of a Bene Gesserit that is so pathetic?"

You closed your eyes, bowing your head. Shame would have been brought over you, and you were pathetic indeed, fawning and drooling over your teacher.

"But nobody has to know."

You looked up, hope in your eyes.

"This could be our little secret."

Her hand caressed your cheek, than it moved lower, clutching at your neck. You gasped at the sensation. You almost couldn't breathe from the force of her choking.

"My little pet."

You moaned at the name. The feeling of her hand on your throat made you throb in anticipation. You wanted her hand to touch every inch of your skin, to feel her gentle yet strong touch on your body.

Her hand left your neck and you took in a big breath. Your lungs were on fire, aching, but it wasn't a bad feeling, not if she was the cause of it. Her hand trailed down, picking at the fabric of your dress.

"Undress for me."

She didn't have to tell you twice. You pulled your dress over your head and discarded it on the floor. You remained completely naked, no lingerie covering your most sensitive parts. She licked her lips, humming.

"You're beautiful."

She said, her voice gentle and sweet. She could be dominant and cold, distant and strong, but she could also be submissive and warm, kind and gentle. But it was only natural, a Bene Gesserit needed to be whatever her partner wanted her to be. What would you have wanted her to be?

She gave you a quick peck on the lips, then started kissing your cheek, chin, neck, chest. Finally, she took in her mouth one of your already erected nipples and you moaned at the warm feeling of her tongue swirling around it. With one of her hands, she played with the other one. Your hand flied to her head, making her come closer to you, if that was even possible.

"Please... I need you..."

You whined pathetically. She left your nipple with a click of her tongue.

"Make me. Use the Voice."

You gasped, feeling her hand on your thigh. You imagined her eating you out, or vice versa, and that thought made you grow more needy than you could bare.

"Kneel!"

You imitated her tone and her strength, trying to succesfully use the Voice. She closed her eyes, and kneeled. Her face was on level with your most sensitive part and seeing her kneeling in front of you made you shake with excitement and arousal.

She opened her eyes and smirked, looking up at you.

"Good little pet."

You bit your lip, gazing down at her figure. Her hands were on your thighs, and her breath on your clit made you shiver.

"You earned your reward."

She attached her lips on your clit, sucking on it. Your head snapped backwards from the waves of pleasure you felt. You moaned at the feeling of her eating you out. Her fingers teased your entrance, until she penetrated you with two fingers.

"Oh... please..."

You cried out, feeling her digits curling inside you. The only things you could hear in the room were filthy and naughty sounds coming from her ministration, and your moans and gasps. Her gaze was fixed on your face, watching your brows furrow and your mouth part to let out such wonderful noises. You tried to keep your eyes open, to stare at the beauty kneeling before you, but it was hard since she was making you feel so good.

You felt your orgasm built inside of you, your chest grew heavy and you felt a knot in your abdomen. It was almost itchy.

"I'm... c-close..."

Lady Jessica hummed, moving her hand faster.

"Come, little one."

"Ah... m-mommy..."

She stopped. You whined.

"Mommy?"

Then it hit you. You opened your eyes wide and tried to come up with an excuse good enough to apologise to her.

"S-sorry, I-"

"Hm don't be, I can be your mommy."

She penetrated you with a third finger and moved faster the before. You gasped and moaned, your hand in her hair.

"Come for mommy, little one."

Hearing her say that made you so wet, your juices coated her fingers which made it easier for her to move inside you. In a matter of seconds, you came undone. Your legs shook, your breath itched in your throat and your hand closed around her hair.

"Breathe, darling."

You opened your eyes and took in a deep breath. Her hand was still moving inside of you, slower, making you ride your orgasm. When you were lucid enough, she took her fingers out of you and stood up. Her eyes looking into yours, she put her fingers in her mouth and licked them clean. You both moaned, her from tasting you, you from the sight of Lady Jessica sucking the juices on her fingers.

"You taste divine, Y/N."

You blushed, like a little girl. You just had sex with Lady Jessica, THE Lady Jessica, the one and only. You came closer and kissed her. The kiss was sloppy and more sentimental than the one before.

"I love you..."

You whispered on her lips, eyes almost closed. You hoped it wasn't just a dream.

"I know."

You smiled. You didn't want her to say the same to you, you knew she couldn't love you like you did, but it was alright to you. If she wanted, you chould have been her good, obedient, little pet.

Fear is the mind killer, but love...

Love is the heart wrencher.

[martian-m]

Desire

The atmosphere smelled of sweat. Bodies were grinding on the dance floor while you hung back with your friends enjoying drinks at the pop-up bar. You felt a tap on your shoulder.

"Hey" said the girl you recognized from your Film class. Amelia Ferguson. She lightly held your arm while smiling at you in a drunked haze.

You smirked. "How can I help you?" Sipping from your beer without taking your eyes off her.

The music was loud to hear her say anything so she got closer — basically semi-leaning on you for support, saying "maybe we could dance... I know you want me"

You raised your eyebrows at this, amused. Before you could even answer, another slightly taller woman yanked her from your space. While she was holding onto Amelia, the bar's neon light illuminated her face.

Beautiful, you thought.

"–aking her home. I'm her mother" you heard the woman say as she scanned your face. You simply nodded in acknowledgment, words failing you at the moment as you observed her. Upon your seeing your nod she dragged Amelia out. You watched as they disappeared behind the exit.

You turn to look at your watch — 2:10am. You finish your beer and excuse yourself from your friends. While walking your car parked out front, you thought about someone. Chuckling to yourself you mumble,

"Looks like I want your mom, Amelia."

------------------------‐--------------—------------------------

BEEN OBSESSED WITH REBECCA FERGUSON THAT I'VE TAKEN MATTERS INTO MI OWN HANDS!

If this post gets maybe 20 likes, I'll make a mini series. (3 parts)

[natchastxin]

trip to venice.

Summary: Ilsa brings you to Venice despite your refusal and you confess to her the feelings of hurt you’ve had since she left you in Amsterdam three months ago which leads you to join Ethan’s team. You find her in the aftermaths of the fight on the bridge.

Pairings: Ilsa Faust x f!reader

Warnings: blood, slight smut

A/N: I just finished watching Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning Part 1 so I’m writing this to make myself feel less sad. And obviously there are spoilers for MI Dead Reckoning so don’t read if you don’t want to.

You loved her, you really loved her and you thought she felt the same way too. She told you so herself just that night she spent in your room in Paris after a stressful mission. So why did you find your bed empty and apartment bare as if she was never there? Had you dreamed the whole night?

The only evidence that proved that the night had transpired was the singular note she left on your nightstand, propped up against a glass of water. On it, etched on the delicate white paper was a single letter: I. The letter was accompanied with a heart that was drawn in the same swoopy style as the letter.

You picked it up and quickly turned it over in your hands to see if she had written anything else. Much to your disappointment, that was it. You laid back in your bed with the note clutched over your heart and closed your eyes as the scenes of last night flashed behind your eyelids.

—

A frenzied knocking woke you from where you had fallen asleep on your couch while watching your movie. Worried sick about Ilsa, you thought it best to distract your mind with something else. She came to your apartment before she left for Kashmir, letting you know how the mission was going to go down as you braided her hair.

You met her while in the MI6. She was the agent and you were... well, you were also an agent but you were better known for your bomb-diffusing skills, how well you handled a knife, and your medical skills. Funny thing, that was actually how you met her, in a knife combat. You were tasked to bring her in because she had information on a known terrorist and caught her off guard. The fight ended with both of your legs wrapped around one another's necks until you called truce.

You fell for her quickly, quicker than anyone you had ever fell for before. It hit you that you were falling for her the way waves break against a barrier of rocks. You came to the realization one late night that two of you had gone to a bar for drinks.

You sat across from her in the headquarters in London, staring at her in your own subtle way— in a way that you thought she didn't notice— but she soon caught on whenever she looked up and you would quickly look back down at your paperwork. For her, she fell for you more gradually. It was a gentle love for her that she received from you, it was like the cool afternoon breeze that rustled through the trees of the forest; it enveloped you and left you wanting more when it left. This pining between the two of you lasted for years, through her disavowal which was shortly followed by your resignation from the MI6 to do privately contracted work all the way to the day she confessed to you that she loved you when she showed up at your apartment front door.

You opened the door and she was greeted by your very disheveled appearance. "Hey," she croaked out and your eyes immediately brightened, any trace of fatigue disappearing from your eyes.

"Ilsa."

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," she said, smirking.

"You're one to talk," you said, pretending to be cross and resting your hands on your hips. But you can barely keep your facade up long. Your real emotions of fear quickly break through your expression. Your lip trembles and you pull her towards you. She drops her duffle bag onto the ground and lets you melt into her embrace. "You were supposed to call," you tell her, you voice muffled by her shoulder. She laces her fingers through your hair to hold you close.

"I'm sorry, darling," she tells you and hugs you tightly, "I'm here now, I'm okay. We got to the bomb in time."

"The bomb?" You said, wiping your nose on your sleeve while pulling away, "Why didn't you call me? I could've helped."

"We didn't have time," she sighed out, "I got here as fast as I could."

"Come on," you said pulling her in, "I'll make you a drink."

—

The night progresses rapidly and both you and Ilsa down multiple drinks as she tells you how the mission unfolded.

"I have something to tell you," Ilsa said.

"Hmm?"

She pressed the lip of her beer against her chin and leaned towards you. "I love you," she said. Your heart beats rapidly against your rib cage and you breathe in that intoxicating perfume scent of hers. Her grip on the slippery glass tightened for a few seconds while silence filled the air as you came to terms with what the woman before you confessed. "I love you too," you whispered out. She takes your beer out of your hand and places it on the coffee table along with hers. She kissed you then, threading her fingers through your thick hair, trying to bring your lips closer to hers.

"I've loved you all these years," she tells you.

"Let's not waste any more apart," you said, "Do you want this?" You bring your hand to the first button of her shirt to indicate what you meant.

"I have longed for this day since the day I met you," she tells you, "I want this— I want you."

She straddles your waist and your arms encircle around her, bringing her impossibly close to your body.

You bring her to your bed and you make sweet love to her that night, you're gentle as she is with you. She lets you worry over her injuries and press kisses to the bruises on her neck. She cums on your fingers then your tongue multiple times and you bury your head into her heat for as long as she lets you, she then returns the favor until you're shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Mustering the remaining strength you had in your legs, you straddled her and brought both of your cores to each other, rubbing until she sobbed as she came and your thighs burned with exhaustion. You collapse next to her and bring her close to your chest. You kiss the top of her head and brush her hair with your fingers.

"Stay," you tell her, whispering it into the dark corners of the room, "I know you have to leave soon, but stay for the next two days— for me."

She closed her eyes tightly and let out a hesitant breath, "Only for you."

She kisses your chest, then your neck— sucking on your pulse point to mark you as hers. To be fair, you had done your fair share of marking up her body so now it was time she took her revenge. She kissed you long and slow, nibbling on your bottom lip until your lips became red like cherries. She takes your breath away every time she pulls away and you stare into her beautiful iridescent eyes. She slowly falls asleep in your arms and you spend the time counting the freckles on her eyelids before falling asleep as well. You held her close that night, not wanting to let go.

You woke up that morning blissful— if only that lasted for more than a minute. The bed was empty and so was the apartment. She had vacated and left not a single trace of her presence. That broke you. You collapsed to the floor, sobbing and clawing at your chest. Little did you know, this started a cycle for you and Ilsa. A cycle that always led her back into your arms in that tiny apartment in Paris. The next year, she waltzes in and out of your life whenever she pleases. It was as if she had forgotten that first night you had with her entirely. She would fuck you then leave the next morning and you were happy to give that to her if that meant you could have her for that little while.

You used to tell her about the dream you had for the both of you. The one that included laughter, coffee dates, the strolls you would take at the local park, the paintings the two of you would pick out to decorate your apartment, the patter of small feet that would fill the silence of the morning, and the infinite love that the two of you would share. She would lay there with her eyes closed, smiling happy. It was the only way this dream existed for her— in that small bed inside of the small Paris apartment you owned. The only place that dream lived was in yours and Ilsa's minds. You dreamt of a world where no one knew your names, a world where you could live anonymously, stroll down the streets hand-in-hand, free from the fear of someone harming you or Ilsa. She hides her tears when you describe this dream to her each time the two of you lay naked, sprawled together late at night. She let you dream for the two of you because that was the only way she could truly make you happy. You knew that she didn't want the same future you wanted but you endured.

Three months of taking the torture, you had finally confronted her. Not given the response that you deemed to be the truth, you sent her out of your apartment in fury, swearing that you never wanted to see her again.

"I thought what we had was real, Ilsa," you had told her, "You told me you loved me that first night in Paris when you got back from your mission with Ethan."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she mumbled.

The truth was that Ilsa was scared. She was scared what would happen if other people knew just how madly in love with you she was. She saw what happened to Ethan and how it affected him. She didn't want anything bad to happen to you so instead she kept you a secret and kept the relationship to a minimum because she saw it as the only way she could protect you. She would have you in the only way she could but she never knew how much she would hurt you in the process. You finally came to the realization of why she was treating you like such an ass one day the both of you had spent the night in Amsterdam.

"You're not Ethan," you told her in bed one night as you held her close, "And I'm not totally helpless. I know you love me, Ilsa. And I love you, more than you know. Despite everything you've done these past three months, I still love you even though I shouldn't."

"But I can't protect you."

"Baby, I can protect myself. You forget that I was a trained agent too. This is my life, I'm not going to let some future terrorist dictate who I should be able to love."

She left again that morning and that was the last you saw of her for the next three months.

—

Your head throbbed as you sat up. You quickly began taking in your surroundings and noticed that you were in a moving van. You clutched your head in pain.

"Hey, darling," a familiar voice said and your heart dropped to the bottom of your stomach. Familiar hands grabbed yours but you shook them off.

"Where am I? What are you doing here? What happened?"

No one gives you an answer. It seems like the two men at the front are waiting for Ilsa to answer you but she doesn't. All she does is stare.

"Fine, I'm leaving then if you won't give me an answer."

You stand up and you're about to open the door when Ilsa grabs your free arm. That does it for you. You twist in her grasp and eventually pin her down in the van.

"Don't fucking touch me," you spat.

"Hey now, c'mon," Benji in the passenger seat finally said, "Just tell her, Ilsa."

"We knocked you out when you came out of your favorite cafe. Something bad is happening, I— we need you," she said and it comes out barely a whisper. Your expression changes.

You finally let her go and sit up. She sits up and coughs, rubbing her chest.

"Why? Why now?" You asked, looking deliberately at Ilsa, waiting for her to answer.

"We're going up against this new enemy and we could use your help," Benji answered instead, "Ilsa has told us about your skills and, well, we need someone like you."

"Thanks, but I'm not interested. She knows why."

You motion to stand up again and this time Ilsa speaks in a stronger voice.

"Y/N. Please," she pleaded. You look at her, which was the first mistake. You could never deny her anything. You would always say yes to her even if it cost you. Your jaw clenched in frustration.

"Fine. But if I do this, I don't want to talk to you or see you ever again. You got it?"

"I understand," she said even though it felt like her heart was being wrenched from her body.

"You've hurt me enough times," you told her.

The two men at the front of the car exchange looks.

—

You sat in the back of the van when Benji brings Ethan in. You had only met Ethan once before, he was nice. But you didn't tend to base how good a person was from first impressions.

"Y/N," he said when he noticed you.

"Ethan," you replied.

"Nice to see you."

You nodded. He looks back and sees Ilsa's deliberately avoidant gaze, looking anywhere but at you. He lets out a very small sigh and looks at Benji who gives him a grimace, shaking his head. He knew what happened between you and Ilsa, one of three people that knew. He knew how much the two of you loved one another and how stubborn Ilsa could be. You, on the other hand, from his singular encounter with you, he knew that you had a kind soul. Why else would Ilsa love you so? Even if she refused to admit it.

You hold up a paper clip and help free Ethan from his handcuffs. "Are you okay?" He asked.

You nodded your head, busying yourself with unlocking his handcuffs.

"I'm always fine," you told him once you freed him.

"So what's the plan?" You asked.

—

"What would potentially happen if a government got their hands on this AI tech?" You asked while sharpening your knife nervously.

"We don't know," Ethan said, "We need to find the other half of the key to find out."

Luther shows him the surveillance footage from the chase in the airport, "I took out the footage from your glasses and looked through everything. See anything strange?"

He notices a man glitching and replays the footage, "It's like he's a ghost."

"We can't find actual video of him except for right here," Luther stops at a frame of Grace, "He only exists in this reflection."

"The Entity," Ethan says, his voice dropping to a whisper, "It's protecting him."

"You saw him, didn't you?" Luther said.

"I did, but I wasn't sure."

"Well who is he?" Benji asked.

"Someone I thought died a long time ago," Ethan said, "In another life, before the IMF. Before I was offered the choice."

Ethan looks up at Luther, "In a very real sense, he made me into who I am today."

Luther grimaced.

"Does he have a name?" Luther asked.

"He calls himself Gabriel," Ilsa said, turning from the window. You look over at her and she meets your gaze before switching to Ethan's.

"You know him," Ethan said.

"There is no knowing him. He has no recorded past— the Entity made sure of that. He's a dark Messiah. The Entity's chosen messenger and he sees death as a gift he wants to share with the rest of the world."

"How do you know this?"

"I still have a few friends in MI6."

She looks back at you but you look away. "Friends who are afraid," she continued, "Of the British government gaining control of the Entity. Any attempt to try to stop them would be seen as an act of treason."

"And because you're disavowed," you said, "Friends called and asked you for help."

"They knew Gabriel served the Entity," she said, "They knew he was on his way to Istanbul to acquire one half of the key but I beat him to it."

"Do your friends know what this key leads to?"

"They believe it leads to its source code."

"Source code," Luther echoed.

"When were you going to tell me this?" Ethan asked.

"I'm telling you now," she said.

"Hold on, did you talk to them in person?" You asked, "Your friends. Did this happen over a phone call?"

"I'm disavowed so they had no way of contacting me in person."

Her expression changed when she realized what you were implying.

"He wanted you to find the key," you said, your voice coming to a whisper, "He wanted you to bring the key to Ethan. This was a trap."

"No, we can't be sure that was the Entity," she said.

"We can't be sure it wasn't," you replied.

"We can't believe anything outside of this very conversation," Ethan said, "None of you should be here."

—

You sat with Benji in the other room as he revised the firewalls on his laptop. You leaned back in your chair, having switched to a different knife to sharpen.

"Why did you guys choose me? Of all the people you could've called, why me?"

"Ilsa wanted you here. She wanted to see you and make sure you were safe."

"Bullshit. She doesn't care about me," you laughed.

He looks at you and your belief in your words falters.

"Why did she leave me then?"

"It's the only way she could think to protect you. Yes, I know how that contradicts the fact that you're here now but you're the best agent she knows and she thinks that maybe she can better protect you this way."

"That's stupid," you scoffed.

"Not everything is always a clear path in Ilsa's head."

You look away to where Ilsa is standing in the other room. Benji follows your gaze.

"She still loves you, despite everything she's done to make it look otherwise and I'm guessing you still love her too."

You give an imperceptible nod of your head.

"Go tell her before it's too late. With our line of work, we never know how much time we get with one another."

"You're very wise, you know," you said, "When you want to be."

"Thank you," Benji said, his face brightening.

You walk to the room in which Ilsa is standing in. You tilt your head to the door leading to the roof and she nodded. You went first. She follows a few minutes later.

You stood on the rooftop, gripping the railing tightly. You bent down and stretched your shoulders before resting on the railing with your forearms. She walks over and leans with her back against the sunset. She lets out a loud sigh.

"You're mad at me," she noted.

"Great observation," you said sarcastically.

"Y/N..."

"What? What do you want from me, Ilsa? I've given you everything I have. Every time you turned for me I was there and now you pull me into this mission. You couldn't even talk to me first? I would've said yes, you know. All you had to do was ask. I would always be there, despite everything."

She doesn't say anything so you look at her. Hot tears are rolling down her face. Your heart broke again even though you knew that it shouldn't.

"I'm sorry," she said, "Those nights in Paris then in Amsterdam."

Silence fills the air when she pauses. "I had a mission after Amsterdam and faked my death," she said quietly, "I wanted you to come with me but then I remembered everything I did— how I hurt you."

You turn around and lean against the railing, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I didn't realize that in my efforts to protect you, just how much I was hurting you in the process. I know that I don't deserve your forgiveness but I want to give this a chance, a real chance this time."

You looked over at her, "I wanted to give this a chance too. I always have. But I don't want to get hurt again. I can't keep doing that to myself."

"I know. But what if I promised you that I would try? I want to be with you, whatever it takes," she said.

You think about it, was it really worth it to give her another chance? She was the love of your life, yes, but she had hurt you so many times, though not intentionally.

"Fine," you said, uncrossing your arms, "I'll give us a try. But I want complete honesty from here on out.

She nods, "I can do that."

So you let her back into your heart because your love for her outweighed the grudge you held against and it was the only thing you ever knew how to do.

She hugs you hesitantly and you move your arms to hold her closer. She smelled the same as the night in Amsterdam. You brushed your fingers through her desert colored highlights. She tucks her head under your chin, revelling in the comfort your embrace brought her.

"I promise that I won't hurt you," she said, "Not intentionally."

You kissed the crown of her hair and she looked up at you before meeting your lips. You let her deepen the kiss as you pull her even closer to you. She found a home in you that day. You held her closely by the waist, not wanting to let her go. A smile tugs at both your lips.

"You know, I've never been to Venice," she said.

"Really?" You said.

"Yeah, it's my first time here."

"Hmm, maybe I'll show you around after this mission's over. What do you think?"

"I think... it sounds like perfection."

She bit her bottom lip adorably before snuggling her head into your chest. You never wanted to let her slip away ever again. She feels your grip on her waist tighten as your mind drifts once more to the plan. She was going to meet Gabriel at the bridge and fake her death. The margin for error was so small, barely imperceptible to the human eye.

"What's wrong?" She asked, brushing her nose against your jaw.

"I don't like this plan," you confessed, "There's too many things that can go wrong. It's not safe."

"Darling, it's the only way we'll be free," she tried her best to make you see the brighter side of the plan.

"You could die, Ilsa. I can't have that happen."

"I'll be careful. He'll hit me here," she said, guiding your hand just clear of her heart, "I'll be sure of it. Besides, if things get out of hand, death will just have to withstand my will to stay alive."

"Ilsa, don't joke," you said, looking away. Your eyes sting with tears threatening to run away.

"I'm not joking- hey, look at me," she cups your jaw with one hand, "I'll come back to you, I promise." She rested her forehead against yours. "I'll be fine," she told you.

She follows you back down where everyone is changing into their attire for the party. Ilsa pulls you into her room and sits you down on a crate. She sits in between your legs. You give her a perplexed look.

"Could you braid my hair?" She asked quietly and your mouth breaks into a smile. "Of course."

You brush her hair gently to one side. She plays with her fingers while you comb through her hair, plaiting it expertly.

"I haven't had my hair braided since you left me," she confessed, "You've always been the person to do it for me."

You smile to yourself at the thought of this simple activity she saved just for you. You finish braiding her hair and place it over her shoulder. You kiss the side of your neck and she turns to capture your lips. She rises onto her knees and laces her fingers through your hair, pulling you to her. Her tongue slides against yours as you deepen the kiss. She moans into your mouth and you grip her waist tightly. You nibble on her bottom lip before she does the same to you.

Ethan walks in and the two of you break apart. A smile creeps onto his face. "Glad the two of you finally came to your senses," he said and a blush rises to both your cheeks, "Could I get a minute with Y/N?"

Ilsa nods and leaves the two of you alone but not before pressing a kiss to the back of your palm.

She walks back into the common area where Luther and Benji are working on their laptops.

"Nice hair," Luther commented.

"Why are your lips red?" Benji asked.

Her fingers rises to her lips instinctively and she blushes.

"Oh my god," Benji said and Luther smirks.

He stands up and points his finger while following her. She ducks and speed walks to the equipment. "You guys are back together aren't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Benji," trying her best to keep a poker face.

Benji smirks and crosses his arms across his chest, "I like seeing you happy. The two of you are good for each other, clearly."

Ilsa blushes again before ducking her head and rummaging through a duffle bag, "Thanks."

—

"I have a task for you," Ethan said, "While we're at the party, I want you to follow us from a distance. We have the advantage of Gabriel not knowing who you are. I need you to follow Ilsa and protect her. I won't be able to do that while I get Gabriel. Can you do that for me?"

"Of course, Ethan," you replied. He nods, "You'll be off comms so that there's no distractions. I just want you to follow Ilsa, don't worry about me. Alright?"

You nod.

"Take the weapons you need. I'll come find you when everything's done," Ethan said. He goes to stand up but you grab his arm, "Stick to the plan. Let her fake her death. I know it's going to seem real but don't worry, we've got this."

He blinks appreciatively at your reassurance. "Good luck," he said.

—

You were following Grace, Ilsa, and Ethan to the party. Watching them from a distance. Ethan had told Ilsa to run so you followed her to make sure that she would be alright. You finally caught up to her in a deserted alleyway. She swings at you with her fist before realizing who was following her. You duck and grab her arm.

"Y/N?" She said, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Ethan sent me, he told me to follow the three of you from a distance. He asked me to protect you." You moved in closer to her and inspected her face and she closed her eyes, taking in your concerned touch. "I'm alright," she told you.

"Good, you had me worried back there," you said. She opens her eyes and sees that you haven't moved from your spot. One of your hands moves from her face to her hip and pull her flush against you.

"I missed this," you whisper to her. She puts a hand against your abdomen. "What are you waiting for then?" She husked out. Her hand scrunches the front of your shirt and pulls you even closer to her body. You meet her lips, they were soft and they enveloped your own.

You pull away and rest your forehead against her. "We should probably go," Ilsa told you and you nodded, agreeing.

"I'll be right behind you," you said, "Do you have a weapon?"

She half unsheathes the sword she's holding and you smirk. "That's my girl," you said. You take one of the five knives on your body and tuck it into the back of the waistband of her pants, you hide the weapon with her shirt.

"I added a little something special," you told her.

She smiled and kissed you, "Let's go."

She takes off running and you run behind her. You hear faint sounds of combat and Ilsa comes to a quick stop, causing you to crash into her. She held a finger up to her lips. She motioned for you to stay here but you shook your head. She motioned for you to just wait and you reluctantly agreed.

She walks up to the bridge and you wait tensely behind the corner, glancing over to your girlfriend to make sure she was alright. She starts fighting Gabriel and she gets stabbed in the leg. She lets out a heart wrenching scream and you run over swiftly and quietly. You unsheathe the knife from behind your back and slash his thigh— his femoral artery. He yells in pain and clutches his leg; blood gushed past his fingers.

"Who the hell are you?" He grunted. "No one that you need to know." You flip your knife and help Ilsa stand up. "Go check on Grace. I'll handle him."

She limps over to Grace and checks her pulse. You momentarily let your guard down and Gabriel gets back up. "Y/N, look out!" She screamed. Gabriel punched you in the back of the head and knocked you out.

Ilsa's vision turned red with anger when she saw your body crumple to the ground. She picks up the sword again and advances toward Gabriel. Her swipes are sloppy and Gabriel can see it but nonetheless she gets a few slashes in. He takes advantage of her sloppiness and knocks her sword away easily. He slashes at her abdomen and it barely misses her. He cuts open her stomach and she lets out a gasp and clutched her stomach. He pins her against the side of the bridge. "This is what happens to whoever cares about Ethan Hunt," he hissed in her ear, "When I'm done with you I'll carve up your little partner. She'll look so pretty all slashed up."

"Don't ever fucking touch her," Ilsa gasped out in between breaths. Her hand inches to the knife you had tucked into her waistband.

"I kill you first and she won't have anyone to protect her," he cackled.

"She doesn't need me to protect her."

She pulls out her knife and stabs the side of his body. "If anything, she's been the one to protect me all along." He doubled over in pain.

He grunted angrily and stood back up, stabbing Ilsa in the chest, she moved slightly to the side as he did so. Her eyes opened in shock, letting out a shaky breath. She looks down at the knife then back at Gabriel.

Gabriel stumbles back and lets Ilsa slide to the floor. She closes her eyes to control her breathing. You finally open your eyes, your head is throbbing and you look around. You push yourself up with much difficulty and see Gabriel's retreating figure. "Hey, asshole," you yelled out, "You forgot to kill me."

"Your time will come," Gabriel said.

You stumbled to your feet and pulled a small dagger from your boot. As he turns his back, you throw the dagger at him. It lodged in his back and he fell over before crawling away.

You look around and see Ilsa and your heart drops to your stomach. You run over her and see the knife. Quickly taking her head into your lap, you check her pulse, letting out a temporary sigh of relief. However, that relief didn't stay for long, you had a performance to put on. You hunch over Ilsa's body and cry. Your shoulders shake as you discreetly take out her earpiece and crush it beneath your boot. You lower your lips to her ear.

"You did really good. I'm so proud of you," you whisper into her ear. From a distance, it just looks like your grieving over your lover's dead body.

You brush her hair soothingly, continuing to let the tears flow.

"I love you," you told her. Her eyes twitch so you press a kiss to each of her eyelids, over her freckles. You hold her head close to your body and she stays motionless.

You hear heavy sounds of footsteps from the distance and you know it's Ethan. Grace would be waking up any minute now.

"No!" Ethan yells when he sees Ilsa's limp body in your arms. He places his finger to her pulse and his eyes soften to sadness. "Y/N, I'm so sorry. This wasn't supposed to happen," he said.

You sniffle and brush your tears, "She died protecting others. It's what she would've wanted."

Grace finally comes to and realizes what happened. She's in shock seeing Ilsa's "dead" body. "No, that wasn't supposed to happen. She's not supposed to be dead, she wasn't supposed to sacrifice herself," Grace starts hyperventilating, "Why did she do that? I didn't ask her to do that."

You lovingly brush at Ilsa's chestnut hair. "Ilsa was doing what she loved," you tell her without looking at her. You look at Ethan and place a hand on his knee, "Go talk to her."

You continue talking to her despite the fact that you look mad doing it. "You did good, my love. You did so good. I hope you can finally have some peace." You press a kiss to her warm lips before pressing your forehead against her.

Benji quickly but surely arrives only a couple of seconds later. He takes in Grace's hysterical expression and Ethan comforting her before his gaze landed on you. Your back faced him but he could see the tip of Ilsa's head. He hops out of the boat and rushed over to you.

"No, it can't be true. Ilsa..."

He takes in her pale complexion and the lack of movement from her chest. You look up with your tear-stricken eyes and a string of silent communication travels from your eyes to his. It was done.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. This wasn't how it was to go down."

You nodded sadly, "I know."

You sniff harshly and brush your tears away roughly. "Please can we just take her home," you clear your throat, "I don't want us to be all exposed here and she deserves a proper burial."

Benji nods, understanding, "Do you need me to help?"

You shake your head and lift her easily into your arms. You take her back onto the boat to the underside, safe from the eyes of the Entity where she finally opens her eyes. You burst into tears then, for real this time. She brushes them away, shushing you.

"I love you too," she whispered to you, "I'm okay. Didn't I tell you everything would be fine?"

You nod, still trying to recover from the events of the bridge.

"If you could give me a hand though," she said pointedly, looking at the knife.

"Oh yes, of course."

"It's a cute knife but it would be better out of my body," she muttered.

You chuckle before indicating to her shirt then your knife, she nods. You slice open her shirt to get better access to the wound. "If you wanted take me to bed you could've just asked," she teased and you rolled your eyes.

You open your duffle bag to take out your medical supplies. You spray antiseptic over her wound and she hisses. "Sorry."

She shook her head, "It's fine. Do whatever you need to."

You get a firm grip on the knife and give it a big tug. It comes out quickly and leaves Ilsa groaning in pain. You toss the knife across the boat and rip open a packet of gauze and cover her wound. "Here, apply pressure. I'll stitch you up."

You take out your suturing kit and help her lay down in the cramped cabin of the boat.

"I only have numbing spray," you tell her and she nods, "Okay, it might sting a little."

She nods again. You remove the gauze and throw 3 tight but delicate sutures on her shoulder before wrapping her chest with bandages.

"Now let's look at that stomach of yours," you said before moving to her abdomen. It had a wider slash but the cut wasn't as deep as the one of her chest. You stitch it up nonetheless then wrap it. You move to her leg and she very gracefully takes off her pants to reveal the wound. It was a small slice, 2 inches wide. You stitch her up and bandage her.

Benji stomps on the floor of the boat to indicate your arrival. You look back at Ilsa. "Ready to hide again?" You asked and she nods. You drape a sheet over her body before lifting her into your arms and carrying her to the safe house. Luther gives your arm a squeeze when he sees you and you blink appreciatively before going to the room you had claimed and laying her on the bed. You remove the sheet and she looks back at you.

"Get some rest," you told her.

—

She was still bleeding heavily despite the stitches you gave her but you were on your own. The rest of the team had left to deal with the mission while you stayed behind and cared for Ilsa. You cleaned her bandages each night and replenished her with nutrients. You bought medical supplies and stole some from a local hospital and brought them back to her. She gets a fever on the second day and falls unconscious, shuddering ever so slightly in her sleep.

You took in her pale appearance in the bed. She sunk into the bed and her freckles looked dull. They never looked like that. You prayed for her to wake up so that the color would return to them. She looked so weak, her skin as pale as moonlight. She looked too frail. Too unlike the Ilsa you knew. You knew she had to get better soon, she had too. You wrung put a wet cloth and wiped her burning forehead. She starting to show early signs of infection so you fed her antibiotics and stayed by her side every night, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest.

Her fever finally broke on the fourth day. She wakes up and say your hunched over position by the side of her bed. She smiled gratefully at her guardian angel and combed through your hair. You sat up quickly at the feeling.

"You're alive," she croaked, her throat raspy from disuse.

"You're awake. God, I thought we would never make it out of that," you tell her.

"Oh baby," she said, a hand coming up to your face, brushing your cheek, "I'm okay. I'm alive. See?"

She brings your fingers to her wrist and you felt her soothing heart beat. You laid your head against her wrist. "Come, lay with me."

She slowly scoots over and you slide onto the bed with her and take her into your arms. "Don't move too much," you told her, "You'll tear your stitches."

"Thank you for being here," she said.

"I wouldn't be anywhere else. Just get some sleep, darling. I'll be here when you wake up," you told her, smoothing her hair. "Thank you for coming back to me," you whispered into her hairline and she closed her eyes with a smile on her face. You kiss her freckles repeatedly until she falls asleep.

—

When she finally heals, that's when the two of you say your goodbyes. Ethan, Benji, and Luther were the only ones there.

"But if you need me, I'll only be a call away," she told him and slipped a flip phone into his front pocket, "Only use it for emergencies. As far as the world knows, I'm dead." She gives him a tight hug. "And what about you?" Ethan asked, "What happens in your story?"

You shrug, "The love of my life dies and I decide to move to the quiet countryside of France and teach English." Ethan smiles, nodding his head, "That suits you." He gives you a hug as well.

"Treat her well," he told you and you nodded.

"If you're ever in France and need somewhere to stay..." you trailed off.

"I look forward to taking you up on your offer," he said.

"You ready?" You asked Ilsa and she nodded. She picked up her duffle bag and gave her last farewells to Luther and Benji.

"Come visit, okay?" She tells the both of them and they nod.

"Take care, Ilsa," Benji said while hugging her.

You approach Ethan one more time and take your favorite knife out from behind your back. It had an ivory white handle, a Persian tip, and a beautifully intricate wave pattern over the blade.

"This is for Grace. Tell her it's my gift to her for joining the IMF and taking Ilsa's place. We finally gets our happy ending now and it's all thanks to her."

Ethan nods, "I will."

"If any of you ever need us, I'll be there. You're Ilsa's family— mine by extension, we will show up, no matter what."

Ilsa laces her fingers with yours and nods. She gives you a kiss.

"Bye," you said. You and Ilsa exit to the boat that Ethan bought and placed under his name. The plan was to sail to France. It was a short ride and Ethan had packed everything you could possibly need into the boat.

"Go hide," you tell Ilsa and she nodded, "I'll let you know when we reach open waters."

—

You and Ilsa move into a chateau in the countryside, 30 minutes away from the beach. A place where the two of you could start fresh and build your family. There was a quiet town about a 10 minute bike ride, no surveillance cameras, just the eyes of locals who admired the love you and Ilsa had for each other. You and Ilsa went there on the weekends for grocery shopping before wandering around, trying the new patisserie shop around the corner, letting Ilsa feed you bits of croissant. The town made you and Ilsa feel young again, you would go out dancing like you were in your 20s, giggle in the back corners of the bookstore as you kissed one another and picked books for each other, let each other try their ice cream before agreeing which one was better. This quiet life, the one you and Ilsa always dreamed of was finally happening.

The two of you lounged on the couch together, reading. It was raining outside and the fire was crackling. She laid against your chest and you had an arm flung over her shoulder. She looks at your hand, the ring she gave you and smiles contentedly. She fiddles with the ring on your ring finger before smiling back up at you.

"Hey," you said, noticing her staring.

She moved your glasses from your face to the top of your head before cupping your face to kiss you.

"I'm happy we did this," she tells you.

"Me too."

She plays with your fingers while waiting, hesitantly, for the right moment to ask you a question that could change your lives.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" You asked, noticing her shift of mood.

She sits up and turns around, sitting on the backs of her heels, so she can talk to you face-to-face. "Would you ever want kids?" She swallowed harshly, waiting for your answer.

Your lips eventually break into a smile and nod, "If it's with you, then yes."

You put down your book and take her hands into your own before pulling her to rest on your chest. You stroked her back and played with the ends of her hair.

"Is that what was worrying you so much?"

She nods against your chest.

"I've been dreaming about having kids with you for forever, Ilsa. Of course I want them. I can't wait to see a mini you running around the house."

"I could settle for a mini you too," she tells you.

She smiled against your skin, her chest warming at the idea.

She lifts her head and kisses along your jaw. She nestled into the crook of your neck, breathing in your perfume. She felt a sense of fulfillment resting here in your arms. A fulfillment that she never got from joining Ethan's team. You offered her a life filled with love and safety and she wishes she had seen that earlier instead of running away. But there was no point in dwelling on the past now. You held her in your arms and she was going to cherish every single moment she could spend with you.

[astrids2th]

Kiss me, kill me, touch me.

Ilsa Faust x Fem!spy!reader

summary: In the clandestine world of espionage, Ilsa and Y/N find themselves entangled in a dangerous game of love and betrayal. Bound by duty yet drawn to each other, the two spies must navigate a treacherous landscape where trust is scarce, and secrets are deadly. Will their love conquer all, or will loyalty tear the lovers apart?

Warnings: Smut, !minors DNI!, oral, fingering, lots of kissing, violence, guns, also !men DNI!, fluff, a bit of angst and a tiny bit of homophobia.

A/N: Btw sorry for my bad English, it isn't my first language. Enjoy <33.

Love is not a simple thing. That is a fact that is very famously and universally agreed upon. It is a dangerous, complicated, and tender yet cruel thing. Like a flower. A deadly flower, which can look oh so beautiful, sitting in your garden, and yet it spurs poison if you were to touch its tender leaves.

Ilsa was your flower and your poison. A drug which you couldn’t get enough of. And you were hers alike. Poisonous, yes, that was probably the most fitting word to describe the love which you shared. A relationship, that if it were to be revealed and publicized, its beautiful toxins would burn down not only your own livelihoods and occupations as spies, but also that of the people closest to the both of you, though you didn’t have many of such people. This was a deadly field to work one, one filled with mines hidden beneath every step of the way.

Oh, but how good it would feel to burn. To let the world see you both and the love you shared.

on the rare occasion that you got to go to witness the wedding of one of those few close friends mentioned earlier, and you got to see them basking in the joy of a love which was not looked down upon by society, and by everyone for that matter, you caught yourself falling down a bitter hole of jealousy.

“Till death do us part,” you would hear them promise, and you would roll your eyes covertly. No. Ilsa, Ilsa you would love even through death and hell. Through the burning fires and the glares of society. She would be yours, and you hers. Sometimes it even seemed as though you would love each other to death. You would regularly be sent to each other’s doorsteps with a gun in hand provided by your superiors and your agencies, of whom you were both the best which said agencies could offer. The best spies on each of your sides.

If you were to do the counting, then this would be approximately the fifth time this year that Ilsa Faust had attempted to kill you. And it was only still May. So still counting.

You gently tip-toed through your apartment, warm morning sun glowing through your dusty glass windows, windows that should have probably been changed out years ago, but this wasn’t exactly an expensive apartment either, so you had no right to complain. And in any case, the blurriness of the light which did manage to fight its way through the old glass had its charm, you supposed. It was old and antique in a way that it became a style of its own, and as the gentle smell of chamomile began wafting through the air, signalling the readiness of your tea, it all made sense together.

Vapour rose from your tea stained and decorated cup, flowers coating the, at some point, white porcelain cup. Though after several turns in the dishwasher alongside all your other cutlery and tableware, it had an almost yellowish tint to it. But it made the cup no less charming.

And picking up your cup, you warmed your hands on it appreciatively, and went to take a set on your couch.

Or at least that was what you would have done. But your movements were halted when a whipping like sound lashed across the room, accompanied by the delayed bang of a window being crashed, glass crackling and exploding across the room. Sharp shards of glass were hurtled over your carpeted floors, embedding themselves into the soft wool of the rug and threatening to pierce your bare feet if you were to take another step. You almost fell back as the culprit of this chaos darted past your face, before lodging itself into your flowery wallpaper. A bullet. You could see it even from where you had stumbled back to, back pressed against the wall, and your cup still in the palm of your hand.

It was small, metal. British design, clearly, you could deduct that from the rim on the back of the bullet. Which was the only part of the bullet you could actually see because the rest of it had practically planted itself in your thick walls, like a little tree stump just sticking it. Judging by the information that you had collected, it was quite easy for you to deduct just who this assassin was who had so clumsily tried to execute you in the early hours of such an otherwise peaceful morning. And you carefully went to tuck on your slippers, as to not ruin the soles of your feet with any of the glass shards which stuck out of the carpet like thorny shrubbery in some forest.

And you walked to your shattered window, unclasped the hinges, and then pushed it open with a small clack.

“You missed,” your voice called out mockingly to the person laying just a street away, on the rooftop of the opposing building, just a story lower than your own apartment complex. The woman, laying flat down on her stomach with a riffle positioned in front of her, gave a small, easily missed smile, and lifted her head up before slipping off the eyepatch which covered her unused eye. The one she didn’t use for aiming. “I missed on purpose,” Ilsa replied in a voice meant to sound serious, although it had an amused undertone to it that anyone of you would have easily missed.

“Of course you did. All a part of the big master plan, huh?” You teased her candidly and used the palm of your hand to nonchalantly brush off any pieces of glass which were still littering your windowsill from her attack earlier. You knew she missed on purpose; she always did. Even if she was well aware of the consequences that her failure to kill you would give her back at the British headquarters, she would never genuinely aim to kill you. Even if her brain wanted and tried to. Just a little slip of the hand, that was all. A little, entirely purposeful slip of the hand. You leaned forward on the windowsill, arms resting on the wood. “Are you going to give up or try again? Second times the charm, or third, or whatever.” You shrugged and lifted your still unscathed cup to your lips, to sip your tea.

“Depends,” Ilsa replied, dropping her eyepatch to hang loosely around her neck instead on the black string which had earlier been clasped around her hair. “Are you going to stop being a commie asshole?” She then continued, smirking down at you from her perched position on her rooftop, just a foot or so above you. You could see her getting comfortable up there, gloating down at her as always with a playful smile. Her blue eyes shimmered, making you shake your head with a scoff. “I work for a communist organisation, that doesn’t necessarily make me a communist myself. Not entirely,” you replied and put down your tea. Yeah, the KGB didn’t exactly have the best of reputations amongst any other organisations in, well any part of the world. But you didn’t exactly have many options either. You turned around and gestured to your apartment, “and I mean, look at the nice apartment they gave me. If you’d just quit shooting holes in my wallpaper. I’m too lazy to replace it.”

The British agent didn’t reply and instead lifted her riffle and shot off another bullet, letting it swish just past your head and into the wallpaper behind you, nicely placed just besides the other bullet. An exaggerated sigh left your lips as you turned to examine her artwork on your wall. Glass shards and ruined wallpaper. And you then looked back at her. “Meh, I suppose I’ll have to go buy a cheap picture to cover it up or something,” you muttered and sipped your tea once again.

“Then I suppose I’ll have to shoot that up as well,” Ilsa replied casually. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Watch me.” She maintained a steady eye contact with you as she spoke. Her blue eyes would surely mesmerise millions if she wished to do so, and her lips…

“You’re just avoiding having to shoot up me now, aren’t you?” You teased her and looked back at her with mirrored intensity, trying to match her controlled expression. But the light did shine through the cracks, in both your faces. It was almost impossible to hide. Both of you were walking, talking killing machines who had vowed to serve your countries no matter the cost, you had both vowed nothing else but loyalty. Like nuns when they vowed to love nothing but god, well your gods were your agencies. And they were such cruel gods indeed.

“I wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty face of yours.” She replied, her tone a bit softer, so faint in fact that you wouldn’t have even been able to hear it hadn’t it been for the fresh winds which carried her sensuous voice down to you on its breeze. “Why don’t you come down and kiss it instead then?” was your candid reply, and there was no hesitation behind it. The words fell from your lips as easy as a coffee order, except you were calling for a war and not a medium double espresso shot. Though that was almost what she was, when it was just her, and not duty as well. A shot of espresso, bold and strong, always there to wake you up when you fell out of line.

The woman smiled and shook her head with a chuckle at your bold statement. But the smile on her face was a genuine one. Her gear was quickly packed away and discarded in an almost dismissive manner, she had never intended to use it properly anyway. It was never her intention to kill you. It never was and it never would be.

Slowly, she crawled down the side of the rigid building. It was soviet built. So, there was practically no space in between the two opposing buildings regardless, so Ilsa could easily make the small jump from one building to the other, with her nimble and athletic build easing the troubles of making the move. And as she leapt off the slim ledge, you were there to catch her. Always. With your arm outstretched from your window in an offer for her to grab onto, which she did. The British agent’s strong hands gripped your own, holding herself in a safe spot from falling while you hoisted her up and in through the window with no difficulty. She pushed herself through the last way and stumbled in besides you, your arms there to keep her from falling onto the still glass infested carpet which she herself had been the cause of. Her gaze met yours, her lips painted with a cheeky grin. “Now, you’re not going to try and choke me or anything, are you?” She asked sarcastically and leaned into your hold a bit, still smiling. “Not unless that’s the kind of stuff you’re into. Who am I to judge,” You reply with a teasing shrug, and she gently shoves you with a scoff, earning a laugh from you.

You’re then hastily pushed against a wall, all air leaving your lungs as she pins you against it. You make no move to stop her or put up a fight. You let it happen. Her hand reaches up to caress your soft cheek, an almost relieved sigh escaping her as she feels your skin beneath her cold fingertips. The chilliness of her long-awaited touch easily earns a shiver from you, your own hands coming up to gently feel up her neck.  “I missed you…” You whisper breathily while she  slowly edges her face closer to yours, lips parting as you breaths meets, warm sighs hitting each other’s faces. “Of course you did, darling…” She whispers back, and before you even manage to reply, her lips are crashed onto yours in a bruising kiss, lips locking. It instantly draws a surprised moan from you, tense body easing into it and your eyes closing.

She does the same, and you quickly feel her tongue demanding entrance, teeth nipping at your lips in an attempt to get you to open up, and you do so willingly, parting you lips and letting her tongue slip through. You both deepen the kiss, tongues clashing together, heartbeats in your ears and your faces feeling hot. You suck on her tongue, making her gasp and grip your cheek tighter, free arm snaking its way around your waist to pull you closer. Your own hands go to wrap around her shoulders and hold onto her, one hand pushing into the roots of her tied up hair. In between kisses, you both have to free your lips from each other as to not be suffocated in the passionate kisses, and even in those moments you remain interlocked, arms around each other and foreheads pressed together while you pant for air.

Clumsy hands fumble around each other’s bodies as you both crave more, hers pulling and tugging at your loose T-shirt, the same shirt you had woken up in and slept in, while your first instinct is to pull out her hair tie and release her long, cool brown hair, a moan escaping from you as you succeed and her hair falls, cascading down her back, allowing you to burrow your fingers in it. She whines lightly, as she is too shaky to successfully pull off your shirt. This earns a smile from you, and she instead pushes down your shorts, one hand slipping to your inner thigh. You gasp and then retract a hand to instead place it on her shoulder, before gently beginning to nudge her backwards. Without protest, she inelegantly stumbles backwards in answer to your advances, and she eventually feels the couch behind her. “Lay down.” You demand breathlessly, pushing at her until she falls backwards.

You both have to part as she moves backwards, situating herself on the languid couch, her eyes following you as you move alongside her. Her captivating blue eyes are gazing up at you, your own eyes staring dreamily back at her as you hover above her, her hand once again finding your inner thigh and caressing the sensitive skin there while you slip off her shirt, leaning down to kiss at her chest which is slowly revealed until the shirt is entirely discarded and tossed across the room in a disregarding manner. She gasps and arches her back when she feels your lips on her skin, and you reach up to grab her hips and hold them steady while you tilt your head and begin to nip at her skin, each time discovering a new sound that Ilsa could make. And each time, your tongue darts out to soothe the bite mark before moving on to do it again.

Slowly, all clothes are pulled off and thrown to be forgotten somewhere in your living room, leaving only two women in their undergarments. While you continue to work on her neck, Ilsa has the clarity of mind to reach around your body, nails trailing along your skin making you shiver, before they reach your bra clasp, and she unlocks it before dropping the black lace bra to the floor, a gasp escaping her at the sight of you. Your perky breasts, nipples hard and begging for her attention. Something which Ilsa happily obliges to, her hands moving to your waist where she pulls at you, beckoning to move up a bit, which in turn allows her to wrap her hungry lips around one of your nipples. You gasp, the sound followed by a desperate moan while all your resolve falters at once, causing you flounder and fall slightly above her. But she keeps you steady while her tongue twirls around your hardened nipple, other hand going to message the opposite breast, making sure to be attentive to both of them. Your mouth falls open and you swear you could fall apart entirely just at this.

You lift your knee up roughly, pushing it in between her legs and against her soaked core, causing her to yelp and bite down slightly on your nipple. You mewl in partial pleasure and partial pain, hands moving to fist her hair while she begins to grind down hard on your knee, begging for a release. The sounds of your passion is resounding through the small apartment, and you push back her head harshly, making her let go of your breast with a small pop and a reluctant groan, and you soothe her disappointment by leaning down and connecting your lips in a short and passionate kiss, before pulling apart and beginning to slide down her warm body. You lean in and biggin kissing your way down Ilsa’s stomach while she squirms beneath you, her hands reaching for your locks of hair as well, while your own hands move to trail down her body. “Y/N, please,” She pants and gazes down at your flushed face before letting out a whimper and leaning back her head, gripping at your hair, and earning a pleased sigh from you. “Spread your legs for me,” you then demand in answer, your voice soft and breathless, eyes following her as she does as you say. Your own hands move to aid her, and you grip her soft thighs, massaging the soft flesh while you keep them apart, your eyes now falling upon her beautiful centre. A smile spreads on your face as you lean in to gently fan your warm breath over the sensitive muscle. “Is this all for me?...” You ask in a teasing voice, and before Ilsa even manages a proper answer, your tongue is on her, licking a stripe up her wet lips, making her gasp and throw back her head in a moan while she desperately tries to push your head closer into her cunt. You oblige.

Immediately you get to work and move your head in closer, kissing and nipping at her sensitive folds, earning multiple pleased sounds from the British spy, accompanied by unintelligible shouts and praises as she grips onto you and quiver under your ministrations. And as you continue working her, Ilsa’s legs move to wrap around your neck, thighs pressed against your shoulders, almost suffocating you. But you don’t mind, far from it, you take it as encouragement and you push in your tongue, making her scream your name. And you pick up your pace, one hand moving to press on the sensitive nub just above her slit, and you press down, moving your fingers in circles while you thrust your tongue in and out of her. The sounds you rip from her only egging you on to move faster, deeper, and more passionate. You are almost out of breath, choking on her sweet pussy when you move to push in the finger at her nub as well and she convulses above you in pleasure as you thrust in and out of her at an even more intense pace.

“I’m gonna cum, Y/N, please, I’m so close!” Her pleading only gets her so far and you smile into her center while continuing your movements, ripping into her pleasurably, until she eventually falls apart. Ilsa’s body shakes and quakes beneath you, but you hold on to her roughly and fuck her through the orgasm while her eyes roll back, seeing stars and feeling nothing but your tongue and finger deep inside her. she cums hard on your tongue, and you waste no time licking it off her, you wont let a drop go to waste. The woman’s shouts and moans of ecstasy don’t die down as she is driven off the edge in a violent crash of love and pleasure, her body sweaty and hot beneath your fingers, and it takes a good couple minutes before you finally pull out off her, sucking off your fingers while she heaves for air on the couch, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace, head still lolled back in a blissed out manner. It brings an amused smile to your face, seeing the deadly spy in such a position, beneath you and shivering from the pleasure you just brought her. and you bring your free hand to her chin, tilting her head back to look at you, “Y/N…” She breathes out in a longing tone, and you nod at her, “right here with you,” your tone is gentle and caring in a way that was so strange to hear from a spy who usually spends her time killing without a second thought. With her you were someone else entirely, and with a genuine smile, you lean down to plant a loving kiss on her now swollen lips, a kiss that she returns clumsily. A kiss much more caring than the passionate ones you shared before before.

Ilsa sighs, coming down from her high gradually and comfortably as she brings you closer to her, almost as if she were scared you might slip through her fingers and disappear. “I’m gonna have to explain to my boss why you still aren’t dead once I get back, you know…” She murmurs into the sloppy kiss, and you simply hum in reply, “I’m sure we can make something up.” You nonchalantly shrug on your shoulders while shifting your body to lay down on the couch along with her, limbs entangled with each other as your bodies both seek each other’s warmth. A small chuckle leaves her lips, one which could be mistaken for a simple amused laugh, but you could clearly recognize the somber undertones. How you wish it would just be a simple happy laugh, how you wished to see her at peace. But this field of work that you were both in, it was never at peace. That was the harsh truth.

“I swear, you’ll get me killed one of these days, you idiot…” She whispered softly, and you knew that she meant it with all the love in the world. And yet you were afraid that one day she would be right, and the thought made you pull her a bit closer, sighing against her smooth skin. “Idiot spy…” She then added in a murmur and leaned her head into the crook of your neck, nuzzling against your skin and closing her eyes. Idiot spies who were digging their own graves. But… You supposed it wouldn’t be so bad after all. As long as you could share that grave. Together.

[scarlettjohanssons-mistress]

According to me, I was going to take advantage of spring break to write something... And now college has left me in a depression and a desire to never write again....

Please pass along fanfics of Rebecca Ferguson, Eileen, Natasha Romanoff and/or Cate Blanchett to read and rediscover my love for writing.

[controld3vil]

atreides and bene gesserit

pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic), austin butler x actor!reader

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: as clueless as you were about your sister's role, it brought you much surprise and joy to see her on the same carpet as you.

notes: reader uses fem pronouns as she's playing a role as a bene gesserit. reader is also described as wearing a sleeveless jumpsuit. and i really enjoyed lea seydoux's performance and hope to see more of it !! this is also COMPLETELY separate from the first two posts ive made since the readers r playing different characters yeah?

When Denise Villeneuve asked you about the role of Lady Margot Fenring, you were genuinely shocked about his decision. You appreciated his works but have never gotten close to any of his sets before. You have worked with directors who've admired Villeneuve for his imaginative mind. And now, you witnessed his creativity in person for the first time.

The role was small and not as significant as the other main leads. Regardless, your character was just as enigmatic and complex as any other in the Dune franchise. Even though your time was short, it was a fun experience to learn and observe from. You weren't able to meet the entire cast after production, but with the NYC premiere, you were able to link up again.

You heard your name being called out. "Hello! How are you?" The well-known comedian and presenter by the name of Amelia Dimonberg was now beside you. In her jet-black corset dress, her style is chic and elegant. She hands you a microphone with the film's title plastered on it. "You look beautiful!"

"Thank you!" you sweetly recuperate, diverting your shoulders to the sight, cutely. You give a little pose before complimenting her own outfit. "You as well!"

"Do you have a memorable day on set that sticks out to you?" Amelia questions, subtly leaning toward your direction. And now you noticed her detailed eye makeup which enhances her outfit altogether.

"Well- I've had, like, only a few days," You let out a quick sigh. Truly it was nothing to be embarrassed about but you could not help but feel shy about it.

"Mmhmm! So all of them?"

"Yeah, all of them!" With ease, your shyness turns into giddy laughter as all you remember from your times on set. Recalling those tiny moments brought a small smile to your face. "Every day counted for me and that was enough."

"Oh absolutely!" Amelia chides, nodding in agreement. She quickly then moves onto the next question, "How long do you think you could last in the actual desert?"

"Oo that's a tough question," Lifting your fingers to rest on your chin as you try to contemplate an answer. "Ideally no- I feel like I could never recover from the heat."

"Yes yes, the heat's very intense,"

"Yeah- no I don't think I'd ever leave my house for that-" You shake your head nonchalantly, acknowledging how most of your scenes already were indoors. You could imagine how you would do in the desert of Abu Dhabi. It makes you appreciate the cast and crew even more for their effort to make filming more comforting and tolerable.

"Where would be your dream location to hang out? I'm assuming your home then since you prefer to say inside?" The blonde interviewer quickly catches on, eyebrows raising intrigued by your response.

Instead, you hummed bashfully, "Actually I think an oasis would be nice." The camera catches onto Amelia's face, fully fixated on you. "Which fits perfectly if I were to live in the desert actually!"

"Mm yeah, smart choice!" She responds more cheerily. "You can maybe go for a swim, you know-"

"Right right," You give her an playful look, "And you don't have to go thirsty!"'

"Absolutely, the best of both worlds," Amelia chirps, doing the same expression. "So this film centers a lot around dreams. Do you have vivid dreams of yourself?"

"Yes! I've uh- I've had many dreams of myself. I mean, this one, for example-" You turn to the camera, waving with the most adorable smile on your face. "'I'm living my dream right now!"

"You're living your dream right now!"

In another section of the premiere, you were walking down the carpet for press interviews and photography. The set where the premiere was taking place was gorgeously made in the shades of black and orange, the perfect theme of the film. The entire venue was outdoors, allowing you to feel the cold air and be more at ease in the crowded space. There were more paparazzi than you had expected, and you suddenly became aware that you were alone. Without any friend or acquaintance to accompany by, you searched aimlessly for a familiar face.

Then there was a holler. And then multiple more came after, it made you confused really. Your head swerves to the sound of the person you so try to look for and immediately you're struck in awe.

"Anya?!" In an instant, you're seen running towards your sister in the far back of the premiere wall. People were reluctantly used to fast-paced relocations around the carpet. Therefore most did not mind your hasty stumbles through the crowd. It was almost comical how apparent your demeanor changed when you heard her, in fact, videos and pictures caught all of it.

"Hi!" She beams in her white dress robe. Her makeup was glowing, making her skin seem angelic, and sheer without impurities. Her outfit covers her like a nun, covering her head and body in almost transparent cloth. Yet it flows around her so elegantly, almost like she was an angel from the stars. She squeezes your figure firmly, only after releasing to gush about your appearance.

You adored a beige sleeveless jumpsuit. The color is complimented with tiny designs of sparkle. Its seams captured your figure perfectly, as you also wore a gold chain and bulky rings. From the lighting, it looks as though your outfit is shining. And to be completely honest, you prefer comfort over the judging looks of fashion critics. Therefore you wanted to wear something that you could still move comfortably in. Thus you were able to run over to your sister with ease.

Through the other lens and camera, they could pick up some of her words after. "You look so gorgeous! How are you here?!" Anya's expression changes into a perplexed one as she gets a hold of your shoulders, shaking them back and forth.

"I was invited obviously, "You said, mimicking her voice while holding onto her arms on yours. "You didn't tell me you were a part of Dune!" Viewers from afar could tell you were pushing an act, reacting as though you were petrified about how Anya managed to be here in the first place.

"I didn't know you were either!" She giggled, closing in on your right ear. Your sister whispers to you slowly, trying to withdraw from the camera and recordings. "Villeneuve had mentioned something but honestly I just thought it was a joke."

It was your turn to guff. Your mouth opens wide flabbergasted, looking sarcastically offended. "Why would you think he's joking?!"

Anya scoffs lightly, wanting to go further with the joke. "I don't know- I just didn't take his word seriously,"

"Why? Because you didn't think I'd make it into the film?" You accused, eyes widening with a hand over your heart. "You're so cruel."

"So cruel," She smirks up at you, then moves back to be by your side. You see her face forward the flashing cameras, as you do the same. "Come! Let's take some pictures!"

"Your outfit looks beautiful by the way!" Anya Taylor muses, eyeing down at the fine details on your jumpsuit. "It's very... you!"

You give her a nod, before flattening some of the creases, "I thought this color was so exquisite, so I thought it would be perfect for the premiere." You lift your head to look at your sister, before realizing behind her, the upcoming stars of the film were getting ready to take cast photos. "Oh Anya- I think you should go!"

Your sister turns and then gazes back at you with a soft smile. "You should come with me!"

The thunder of cameramen and journalist blurred your focus for a moment. "Are you sure-"

Again the sound of your name is hurdled but this time from someone you haven't seen in a long time. Jessica Ferguson, who too wears a black body suit with veils and bold makeup. She waves her hand almost too eagerly to have you come closer alongside your sister. "Come, join us!"

Videos were filmed of the people gesturing to the cast of Dune in a line. Little by little, the row of people is filled and organized to be in the center of the camera's focus. Some actors had to move spots, due to lack of space or better color semblance on the other side of the row. You stood next to Jessica and Florence Pugh was beside your right, as you tried to stand closer for the picture.

Anya Taylor was on the opposite side, with Austin Butler and beside him, Timothee Chalamet. A noticeable clip taken all over was when the French actor went to greet the English actress, warmly, clasping her hand with both hands as a proper salute as on-screen siblings.

You did not mind the lack of attention. You were happy for Anya for achieving a great role. One with a welcoming cast and crew. It was then your eyes scanned down the row, from Zendaya to Stellan Skarsgard. Then to Austin, whom you've been familiar with since day one. Only him to find your gaze seconds later. You give a little nod and smile before averting your direction to Anya who is already staring at you with gleaming eyes.

You were going back and forth with Jessica and Florence on your travels for a while. From plans reception to favorite desserts, all you three wanted to talk about was food. Paparazzi caught onto your banter quickly and snapped a few photos. You even went out of your way to do silly poses. Followed by Jessica and Florence, then did the same, sticking their tongues out in a rock star kind of fashion. You throw out piece signs, giving a dramatic frown as another flash happens.

Catch-ups were definitely refreshing and fun. Thus why you nearly jump when Austin appeared behind you.

"Oh my gosh, hey!" You stuttered, giving him a quick hug to calm your nerves. "You scared me!"

"Sorry sorry! I just wanted to surprise you!" He leans his head slightly, allowing better eye contact. You felt a few taps on your shoulder and noticed Jessica and Florence scurrying away, with their thumbs up, all goofy and excited.

Your eyes make it back to his. "I would've said hi back at the cast photo, but you were so far away," Shrugging you dismiss your failure as a mild missed opportunity.

But Austin shakes his head in an averted manner. "No- Don't worry about it." You could already sense interviewers and others with microphones closing on you two. You were out in the open, and it's bound to happen. "I wanted to- you know, say hi to you in a less chaotic place."

"I tried looking for you but there's just so many people," You give your costar an exhausted look. It was then a keen young man approached the pair of you. It was the People magazine, as you became aware of the logo alongside their camera and microphone.

"Hey, would you two mind a short interview for People's magazine?"

Truly, this was what premieres were about. The cast and crew meet with fans to show what they have worked so hard for. You brought you no better satisfaction than to praise everyone's efforts. The interviewer then proceeded to have a quick introduction of you and Austin beside you. You both had separate microphones in each hand. Once the video started rolling, you peered at the camera and gave the audience a grin.

"So how are you guys doing? Met all of your lovely cast members yet?"

"Oh absolutely," You emphasized every syllable, nodding. Austin only glances at you in amusement. "It's crazy how many people are here I was so overwhelmed!"

"Yeah, it was pretty crowded," The male actor adds, lowering his microphone slightly.

"Hopefully it will die down!" The interviewer beams. "So what was it like getting to know each other in this film? How was the first day on set like?"

"Oh, well it went very smoothly," You start, staring up at Austin in approval. "Even though my time was short on set, I feel like we had a pretty good rhythm starting out."

"I was about to say! The scenes with Feyd and Lady Margot were really something!"

"Why thank you, we appreciate it," Austin nervously laughs, scratching his ear.

The interviewer takes the lead to discuss your preparation for the role and how it was working with Villeneuve. As new characters, you and Austin both talked about your views on both of your characters. Both are very different yet mysterious to the viewers. Additionally, you two were introduced in a similar scene of the pit fight. The People's Magazine interviewer was compelled to compliment Austin on his opening scene. You knew he had practiced the choreographed fights vigorously. And of which you were lucky to witness on the days that you were present.

"It was completely freeing and different than what I was used to doing," Austin probes, leaning toward your direction. "Were you there for the pit fight?"

"I think I was," You turn, similarly. "I remember watching from afar and thinking wow." Immediately you could sense him eagerly looking down at you with a sly smile. "He was- Austin did amazing with the fight choreography, I was impressed!"

"Was this the first time seeing him in full costume too?"

"Oh yes!" You bonked your hand on your forehead, "He was and I just- couldn't believe it was him!"

Suddenly Austin jumps in, "She was startled when I first came up to her in full costume."

"You came out of nowhere, by the way!" You rebutted, giving him a side glance.

"I didn't mean to," As he tries to reassure his actions, "I wanted to give a good first impression!" It was humorous how playful you two were together despite having dissimilar filming schedules. Though most of your scenes involved Butler, your friendship only became more apparent weeks after working together. It was off and on for months at a time due to being busy in other countries simultaneously.

Eventually, you were able to link up again weeks before the premiere. After waiting a long time to meet up, you almost felt relieved that you hadn't seen your costar in a while.

"And Austin, how was filming with her?! From a character's standpoint, what kind of dynamic do you see playing out?" The People's Magazine interviewer perks up, having the camera transition from his face to Austin's.

"Well I'd say, she's great. You know I've got to meet a lot of amazing people in this film. And," He says your name sincerely, "She's- she's one of those people. I can't say much for Lady Margot and Feyd's relationship- you know there's a lot of that's still not uncovered. We don't really know what's happening but kind of have an idea of something. And to have such a great actress like her, it makes everything feel authentic and- feel the tension." It felt as if you were in a daze, eyes completely focused on his words with such admiration and grace. Before you knew it, you were smiling as if you had won the best possible prize in the world. His compliments to you meant more than you had anticipated really.

Unbeknownst to you, the cameraman had caught your lovestruck expression before directing attention back to the interviewer. "And how about you, Miss Margot?"

"I'd say it's the same," Now looking at the interviewer, only momentarily back at your costar. "Austin's- he's great at all the stunts and acting like a scary dude. Every scene with him was fun to do. Like he's all serious in character but once they yell cut! he's so nice and funny!" Your bubbly laugh breaks as you can feel your face growing hot.

"Well I appreciate you liking my humor," Austin pokes fun at you, fanning a little air towards you.

You mutter a soft thank you! before continuing, "And he's dedicated you know? I remember one scene, a little spoiler, where Feyd is about to be tested by Lady Margot, and I just couldn't do it! I couldn't keep a straight face!"

"Really?!"

"She just kept breaking, I don't know why," The actor shrugs, his attention closely drawn to you. "We had a few takes on a few days."

"We did! We did!" You gave a big frown, "You just have a really distracting face."

"Do I?" Austin asks, between the lines of teasing and coolly.

By the time, other premieres had occurred, people were still focused on your interactions with Austin Butler. Your chemistry on and off screen on the carpet was hilarious. And with how polarizing your characters were, it made many clips of your shared encounters gain attention.

A few short videos were recorded after the People Magazine interview of you and Austin, bashfully talking behind the stage. The two of you went back and forth whispering in each other's ears about what was unknown to the viewer. Through a bird's eye view, the video also catches you hugging your arms before zooming in on Austin's placing an arm around your figure.

Another clip that had been reposted many times was when you both took duo pictures together. As you comfortably shift your weight on one leg, as you turn to have your side face the flashing paparazzi. Whilst the Elvis actor stands beside you at a pleasant distance, doing the same pose to the other side. There was one instance where you lifted your head to make eye contact with your eyes instantly brightening. As Austin's smile widened, only to blow air in your face.

[diana-foggy-master]

𝐃𝐔𝐍𝐄 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

like or reblog if u save

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[valsnotgothstuff]

duke leto, stilgar, gurney halleck and more lady jessica fics??

and for reader not be related to irulan and or an atreides lol

[buttercandy16]

Mine to Covet

(Dark!ReverendMotherJessica x Female!Reader)

Word Count: 3.9K

Summary: An unfortunate fate where your lover's mother wants to have you all to herself, and she's willing to do anything.

Warning(s): Dark fanfiction, Smut, Yandere, Dub-Con, etc.

A/N: I do love my yandere. Another anon also asked for a yandere/kidnapping fic and I'll probably write that one next. Also, English is not my first language so please don't come after me due to my grammar. Enjoy!

Gimme me more requests!! Please!

-_-_-

JESSICA’S POV

As a Bene Gesserit, I possess supreme levels of discipline, including complete control over my emotions and urges. So how is it that I can feel my blood boil in anger and taste the bitterness of envy violate my tongue as I watch my own son woo the woman he claims as his? Why do I feel the strong urge to cut off his hand the moment it touched yours?

At first, I was confused by this foreign feeling, so I grew angry with myself. I didn’t understand what it was.

It first occurred when Paul, my only son, introduced you to me. A Fremen girl he has grown to fancy. I remembered how he gushed over you, clearly seeking his mother’s approval, my approval. But no words from his lips reached my interest for I had my focus solely on the divine creature presented to me. With a barely concealed amusement, I observed your fidgeting form battling the urge to look me straight in the eyes, it was clear to me that you were nervous, the reason may be from knowing that I am the Reverend Mother or maybe because it is I who birthed the Lisan al Gaib or simply because I am Paul’s mother, it mattered not to me. What mattered was the pleasant feeling that I get from your presence alone. Such a strange girl… However, my amusement ended swiftly when Paul held your hand in his. My breath hitched and my once relaxed hand turned to a fist as my vision started to bleed red.

What is happening to me?! Why do I feel this way?! I remembered muttering inside my head. I felt as if I was no longer in control of my own body. Fear clawed against my skin and with great haste, I silently spoke the litany of fear to calm myself. Careful not to expose the battle within to anyone present. Unfortunately, I find myself feeling the same way right now.

Not long after realization struck me like a ton of bricks. The dreadful realization that I simply covet you…the girl whom my son is in love with. I want you as much as he does… maybe even more so.

I blame my late Duke’s death for having these thoughts. Perhaps it is caused by the sudden loss of the man I loved that pushed me into having these strong urges towards you. Maybe I see him in you and I'm feeling lonely. Or maybe I’m just truly damaged and deranged that my head is now filled with such corrupted thoughts. I am desiring something or rather someone I can’t have.

But you will have her… she is yours… the voices in my head whisper.

“No, she’s with Paul… She belongs to my son,” I whisper back as I look at you longingly while hiding in the shadows.

She belongs to no one else but yours… Yours to love… yours to keep… yours to defile… yours to consume…

“Stop it… You have no idea what you’re saying. I cannot hurt Paul like that,” I weakly argue back as my eyes start to water with tears. I love my son dearly and because of that, I will fight hard against the voices… against my feelings. But deep inside I know I’m fighting a losing battle… I know that I have already lost.

_-_-_

Time passed and bit by bit my resolve crumbled and the thoughts of my son turned into nothing. Now, all I can think of is you… and the millions of other ways I can have you.

She is yours…

Claim her…

She is yours…

Claim her….

Eyes dark with lust and pure deranged obsession I look at you once more while hidden in the shadows as I whisper to myself, “She is mine and I will claim her.”

-_-_-

Y/N POV

"You're so beautiful, " Paul whispered in my ear, making me smile.

We've been sitting out here for some time now. Watching as the sun sets for the night.

"We better go inside, Paul. It's no longer safe to stay out at this hour"

Paul nodded in agreement before he pulled me up with him and we started to walk inside.

"Oh, I almost forgot. My mother wants to see you," I stopped when I heard what he said.

"Why?" I asked, trying to remain calm as much as possible.

Truth be told. Paul's mother, the Reverend Mother, scares me. She’s a Bene Gesserit, she walks in the shadows. No one truly knows what goes on in her mind. All I know is there’s something strong about her presence, but something that felt forbidden and so wrong. She is beautiful as much as she’s dangerous.

In simple terms, I don’t trust her.

"Don't worry, she just wants to talk," he gave me a reassuring smile before leaving me in front of the Reverend Mother's tent.

After taking a deep breath I made my presence known by going inside. My eyes wandered all over the unique decor of the Reverend Mother’s tent until it settled on the middle where there’s a small table with two cups filled with some kind of tea.

“Hello little one,” a sultry voice whispered suddenly into my ear, breaking me out of my thoughts and making me turn to see the Reverend Mother invading my personal space so sensually from behind.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she continued with a chuckle.

“No need to ask for forgiveness, Reverend Mother. You didn’t” I lied, trying to remain calm as I felt my cheeks heat up from our proximity. “Paul said that you asked to see me.”

“I did,” Her eyes were on me, filled with intent that I failed to decipher. She brushed her fingertips across my shoulder, causing goosebumps to run along my skin before she motioned for me to sit on the carpeted ground right next to the small table.

After I complied she walked towards me and immediately joined me by sitting close to my side, our clothed thighs lightly brushing against each other.

“Have some tea, I have it specially prepared for us,” she said while gesturing for me to take it, there's a challenging glint in her eyes, daring me to refuse.

With no intention to displease my lover’s mother, I complied and took a little sip. The moment it met my tongue I was surprised to find it very cooling.

“This is good”

“Yes, simple but very soothing. But, you must drink deeply for the full effect,” she said with amusement dripping from her voice.

Without any second thoughts, I did what I was told, and the Reverend Mother seemed satisfied with this as I can see it in her smile. Soon I was holding an empty cup. I had drained it and yet, I’m still thirsty.

“Would you like some more?” she asked.

“Y-yes, If it’s not much of a bother, Reverend Mother,” I replied, self-consciously rubbing the fabric over my hips.

“Not at all, and please... Call me Jessica” she replied, her eyes glinting with something dark as she carefully replenished my cup.

 “As you wish, Jessica. May I know why I'm being summoned?” I breathed, my heart pounding in my chest as our gazes met before I took a generous sip from my drink. There was something undeniably alluring about her, something that both scared and excited me.

The weight of her eyes on me feels invasive like she could see through my cracks and discover all of my weaknesses. She’s watching me as if I’m her prey.

“You must understand, Y/N, I’m a determined woman. Whenever I have an agenda I’ll make sure to do everything in my power to achieve it. Whatever means necessary.” She muttered, leaning in close to my ear. Her warm breath sent shivers down my spine.

“Did Paul touch you yet?” Her tone was casual with her sudden question, but her eyes were anything but. 

“Wh-what?,” I stuttered, feeling my cheeks flush not believing what I was hearing right now.

“Have you given yourself to my son, sexually?” she leaned in closer to me.

“Uh, n-no,” I stammered, my body trembling like a leaf.

“Are you being truthful with me?” she purred, her fingertips ghosting lightly along my exposed neck. It was such a simple yet surprisingly intimate gesture that it made me feel like the tent suddenly caught fire from how hot it was.

I shakily nodded while she only looked at me with satisfaction.

“Have you taken his gift of water yet? Or yours to him?” she asked, scooting closer. Her smell was intoxicating and it made my head spin.

“N-no…not yet. He wants to wait until we are to be married.”

The Reverend Mother snickered under her breath and continued. “I raised that boy and taught him everything I know so he’ll rise and fulfill his destiny one day. But now, I’m starting to have second thoughts. It seems to me he’s just as weak as his father. A beautiful morsel such as yourself standing so willingly at the palm of his hand and yet he never thought about fully claiming you as his. So sure that you’ll stay right where you are. I guess he never thought about someone stealing you away. Such a huge mistake on his part but a blessing for me.” she said with a wicked grin, her delicate fingers tracing slow circles on my forearm as if she were teasing me.

But before I could respond, I noticed that the tent was becoming increasingly warm. Worse, I was finding my body uncomfortably warm. My face was becoming flushed and I was panting. My suit was becoming very confining. How odd, I thought. I grew up wearing this suit, but now I desire nothing more than to get them off.

My eyes landed on my now empty cup next to the Reverend Mother’s. That’s when I realized that she’d never touched her cup, not even a single drop.

She followed my gaze to her cup before catching mine. Slightly tilting her head, she then smiled knowingly.

“I-I need to leave” I croaked back, fear creeping into my bones as alarm bells started ringing in my head. 

But when I was about to stand up, I was immediately met with a sudden dizziness making me sit back down ungracefully.

It felt like my innards were being replaced by some kind of emptiness. I tried to stand again, desperate to leave the tent. I swayed just for a moment before the Reverend Mother caught me and pushed me down with my back against the carpet, a soft gasp of surprise leaving my lips.

She didn’t waste any time as she got on top of me and pinned my hands above my head in a tight grip, sharp nails digging against my skin but not breaking.

The Reverend Mother’s face was close to mine as she intently stared into my fear-filled eyes.

“Oh, no little girl. You’re not going anywhere,” she whispered above me.

Her face was blank from any emotion, but her eyes said it all.

“Did you poison me?” I whimpered. Her grip on my wrist tightened more than before, making me yelp in pain as she cut off the circulation of my blood.

“Of course not, I would never harm you without reason. Only to ensure your utmost obedience. The tea is for making you more pliant, not to kill.” she purred, leaning in close enough that our lips almost brushed. Her warm breath mingled with mine.

“What do y-you want from me?” I stammered, my voice barely audible.

She smiled maliciously at me before she started speaking.

“Isn’t it obvious, dear one? I want you.” one of her hands left my wrist and slowly traced my face with her fingers before she continued, “From the moment we met I already felt a certain pull towards you. I didn’t fully realize what it was until much later. Deep down I know you feel the same. That’s the reason why you went with Paul so that you could be closer to me.”

She’s starting to sound and look very much deranged. To my complete horror, she seems to believe her words to be true.

No…This can’t be happening. Paul… I’m with Paul!

I shook my head no but that was not what she was looking for. I yelped in pain from the sudden sting of her slap against my now-reddened cheek.

“Do not lie to me.” Her tone was assertive as she spoke every word.

“I’m not.” I cried weakly.

Another slap and tears started to run down my cheeks.

She leaned down and her warm wet tongue immediately tasted my despair with delight written all over her face. 

“I don’t like hurting you. But know that I will when I deem it necessary. So you better give me the answer that I want, little girl. Don’t test my patience. Try again.”

I only shook my head once more, refusing to back down. This made her chuckle

”Such a stubborn girl. I’ll enjoy breaking and reshaping you into my good little girl.” she whispered next to my ear.

Is she for real? My mouth fell open as I struggled to say anything. Suddenly I heard footsteps outside the tent.

“Mother, is Y/N still with you?”

Hearing Paul’s voice almost made me tear up with joy thinking that this would all come to an end. But when I looked at the Reverend Mother it seemed like I was dead wrong. Instead of seeing a look of panic, she gave me a wicked grin.

“She is… come inside, my son. I want to show you something.”

Paul entered the tent and suddenly froze where he stood when his eyes landed on us. The woman he sires pinned underneath his own mother’s body.

“Wh-what is going on here?” Paul asked as he looked at us confused.

“Paul, help me, please. Your mother has lost her mind” I pleaded as he went closer.

“Mother! Get off her ri–”

“SILENCE!” Paul’s words were cut off as I saw his mouth shut in command. His eyes were immediately filled with betrayal and hurt when he realized that his mother used the voice on him. But his mother did not care at all, “Kneel and do not move” she commanded his son once more.

I looked at her as if she lost her mind. Perhaps she did.

“Oh don’t look at me like that, little one. For it is you who made me this way” she leaned over and planted a kiss on my cheek. I tried to jerk away but couldn’t. The kiss practically seared my skin like molten lava.

She pulled a dagger from under her robes and then turned towards his son, a slave to her command.

“You know very well that I love you, Paul. But unfortunately for you, my love for Y/N weighs more heavy. I won’t let you have her. She is mine…only mine. And you will watch as I claim her.” her attention then went back to me as she sliced through my stillsuit and garments beneath it. I am now completely naked to her eyes. 

My head turned to Paul and saw the same panic set in his eyes. We were both sobbing and fearful of what was to come.

She laughed maliciously and roughly gripped my chin to look at her.

“Open your mouth” my breath hitched as I felt her voice crawl its way into my head. Not a second passed and my mouth opened.

“Take the gift of my water and you shall become one with me. Take it and you will be mine…forever.” she whispered before spitting into my mouth, “Swallow” she commanded before her lips descended against mine.

Her kiss was violent, forcing her tongue past my gritted teeth.

The tongue quickly found its way around my mouth and explored every inch. In parallel to that, her hands moved around and groped my breast. She slightly massaged them and pinched the erected nipples. It was not that the events aroused me. It was the cold that made my body like that. 

The kiss ended after a while, me being out of the air while the older woman was looking crazier than before. She licked her lips another time before stripping her garments away. She moved and kneeled in front of my face, her warmth being right on top of my face. "Pleasure me, little one." She commanded using the voice commanding voice and I immediately complied.

"Yes!" She started to move her body up and down, making her juice splash on my face. "Now, get that tongue of yours at work, beautiful girl," She ordered and once again tightened the grip, forcing me to obey her order. 

I had to stick my tongue forward, forced to have a taste of the older woman. It was sweet and I couldn't stop myself from moaning from the taste of her. She also moaned at the feeling of my tongue inside her and moved faster until she cummed in my mouth. 

Just as I was about to let go of a sigh, my left leg was lifted, Jessica’s right leg sliding under it. "It is not the end yet! I still have a lot of things I want to teach your body." She pushed her hip forward, making our center meet. 

I can't help but admit that it started to feel so good, so good that I failed to notice that I was no longer under the influence of the voice.

She repeated to thrush several more times, bringing our center together and making them part, and then collide again. She started to moan once again as I did the same, her hands starting to play with my breast, enjoying every contact through my body. Until my first orgasm was ripped from me this evening, followed by the beautiful temptress who laid on top of me while catching her breath from her release. 

She looked down at me in complete amusement as I lay helplessly underneath her. 

Jessica kissed the tip of my nose before sliding her warm body over me. She then began to touch me once more, and that was when I started to squirm a little. She moved her arms around my body, rubbing it in a very erotic way. "So beautiful! I can't help but masturbate thinking about you every day. And now, you are finally mine." She put a hand on my knee and began to gently stroke my leg.

Oh no... please no more...

"P--please... I can't. It's too much" 

I struggled as I tried to pull myself away from her, but my body is still weak from the drugged tea and pleasure.

"Shhhh... I know you can. Just give me one more, little one. I just need to taste you." 

She settled herself in between my legs, parting them by force. 

She reached between my legs and pushed something. It's her finger against my clit, causing my back to arch. "Oh!" I gasped, head falling back. "Oh, oh—" 

Jessica cupped my left breast and mouthed at it, kissing and licking. I didn't know where to look but into her eyes, trying my best not to follow the sound of a silently sobbing man. 

I'm not sure what possessed me at the moment but I was suddenly desperate to taste her lips. 

"Kiss me," I begged. "Please..." 

And she did. Soft and sweet, holding me to her. Tugging my lip with her teeth and stroking my back, my butt. She took hold of my legs, cupping the underside of my knees. Bringing my legs around her waist, she rocked against me, teasing my lip with her tongue. 

I parted my lips for her, tasting her, sighing... Jolting when she tugged on my nipple. "Oh, ow, owie—, please don't—" 

I cried out with pleasure. This was so nice; it felt so good. 

She smiled at me. “You’ve got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, my beloved,” she said, reaching to touch me, pulling back the hood of my clit so she could rub me with her thumb. I shivered. “Look at this tiny clit. So fucking adorable, and all mine…” 

She proceeded to slide down my body until she was face to face with my dripping warmth. 

I gasped when she started to lick me and felt my stomach twitch, surprised and excited at Reverend Mother’s eagerness to please me. I felt her tongue trace the outline of my lower lips and shuddered. A moment later, the older woman finally slid her tongue over my clit, and that's when I felt my walls clenching in a sudden spasm, screaming in pure pleasure for the second time. Due to the intensity, I blacked out.

-_-_-

A groan left my lips when I woke up, my body deliciously sore. 

Slightly stretching, that's when I realized that I was not alone.

To my left, Paul stood looking down at me. Tears stained his cheeks, eyes full of hatred.

“P-paul… I–”

“Silence! I don’t need your excuse. You and I are over” Paul spits his words with so much anger that it hurts.

“But Paul, it was your mother’s doing… I didn’t wa–”

“SILENCE”

The command surprised me into shock. Having the Reverend Mother use the voice on me seems to hurt less than having Paul do the same thing.

“You will not speak ill of the Reverend Mother. For she is the mother of your people’s chosen and now… your intended... for you two are fully bonded as one”

Paul’s words confused me greatly. Why would he say such a thing after everything his mother did in front of him? But my thoughts were then silenced when I saw a pair of hands rest on his shoulders. The Reverend Mother’s face appeared next to his.

“That’s enough, my son. I think my beloved has heard enough. You may take your leave” she calmly whispered.

Paul did what his mother asked but not before sparing me one last glance and whispered under his breath… I’m sorry… and now completely leaving me alone with a predator hungry for my flesh.

“What have you done to him?! Did you use your voice?!” I yelled accusingly, but she only laughed at this before kneeling beside my vulnerable form.

“No, Paul is simply being a good son. I raised him well, he knows to never go against my will. I brought him into this world and gave him his birthright, he owes me as much.” She smiled devilishly.

She looked down at me with a predatory grin before slowly tilting my chin with her finger to meet her eyes. 

It was so dark and full of lust that it felt like I was about to drown in it. 

"So here's what will happen from now on, you better listen carefully because everything that is attached to your existence will be at play if I don't get what I want, understood?" I weakly nodded, no longer having the will to fight back. 

"Good girl" Jessica praised before caressing my cheek. 

"You will surrender yourself to me and in time I know that you will so willingly. The more you take the gift of my water, the stronger our bond grows. In the meantime, you will be my obedient darling girl. Whatever I say, goes. Understood?" Her grip on my chin tightened, emphasizing how serious she was. 

"Ye-yes" I stuttered through gritted teeth. 

"If you behave like a good little girl for me, I will reward you with anything you desire, but if you disobey... You will learn that I won't go easy on my punishment. Since that's all settled then, time to quench my thirst." 

"W-with what?" I fearfully asked. 

The Reverend Mother smiled at me before leaning in close, her lips almost touching mine. 

"You."

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Shooting the Messenger

Reverend Mother Jessica Atreides x Fem!Harkonnen Reader

Summary: Following the Battle of Arrakeen, House Harkonnen remains decimated. With Baron Harkonnen’s corpse slowly rotting in the sand and Feyd Rautha thrown amidst a pile of burning bodies, Reader is left with no choice but to hide amidst the rubble of the city in the hope of eventually escaping before being killed. Unfortunately, the bastard child of Emmi Harkonnen finds herself cornered, incapable of escaping from the clutches of the still surviving Atreides clan. (Emmi Harkonnen is the wife of Abulurd Harkonnen, brother to the Baron Harkonnen- NO INCEST!!!!).

Warnings: Dark circumstances (war, murder, death), complimentary Stockholm/Lima syndromes dynamic, grey-morality, abuse of power (Jessica), spitting

A/N: I’ve leaned more into the circumstances of the Dune books, specifically with Alia being born before the Battle of Arrakeen. If pregnant women are your thing, good for you, but I’m not into pursuing a relationship with a woman pregnant with a psychic, talking baby that observes everything going on from inside the womb. (Authored with inspiration and council from @ilovehotactresses- Here ya go buddy). This is all worldbuilding, no sexy times, I apologize. I legit cannot comprehend this woman fucking someone just 'cause she can. More sexy times later, I promise, promise, promise!!

Word Count: 3.3k

House Harkonnen had fallen. Baron Harkonnen was dead. Feyd Rautha, his successor, laid upon a pile of Sardaukar and Harkonnen soldiers, slowly being burned by flames on the sands of the fallen city. You had lost track of Beast Rabban, your oldest half-brother. It mattered not, you hated both of your half-brothers, the dead Feyd Rautha most especially. But regardless of resentment and old wounds, you were left without protection. Finding a dark, well hidden corner of the fallen city was difficult. But you did. Panting, in between collapsing from exertion and crying out of fear, you'd found a corner. Making yourself as small as possible, you covered your ears and froze.

"Reverend Mother, you cannot go into this sector! It is not secured!" a voice echoed down the halls.

"I don't have another option. Alia has spoken to me of her. I must find this remaining vestibule of the Harkonnen throne, the one that remains, the living heir." a voice rasped.

Silence. The room fell silent, and the footsteps disappeared. It must have been an illusion of some sort, a trick of the senses. Those voices and footfalls had been near, therefore the woman who spoke should have been near.

"There you are. Rise."

A force greater than you pulled you up, causing you to put pressure on your lacerated, probably fractured leg. You cried out in pain, but you remained standing.

"Nevermind. Kneel."

You kneeled, the force of your knees on the stone caused white hot pain to flash up your body. Hands cupped your face, pushing back the veil that hid your hair.

"Ahh, so you're half-Harkonnen? The rumours are true.. You're Emmi Harkonnen's bastard, her little mistake." the woman cooed, stroking over the hair repeatedly. "Precious, so precious. You'd make a poor heir. But we have to ensure that, don't we?"

You could only wheeze, looking up at the veiled woman in spite and fear.

"Oh, if you've heard the rumors, you've most certainly heard of my rumored fathers." you managed.

Reverend Mother Jessica drew closer.

"No, I most certainly haven't."

Glaring up at her intentionally, you smirked in recognition of the advantage you had.

"I was supposedly conceived during an Imperial caucus, the product of an affair. But I've heard the whispers. I may have been the product of none other than your deceased Duke Leto."

The slap that landed across your cheeks was resonant, and humiliating. No matter how much pride one has, slaps can never be any less humiliating than nature intends them to be. Tears collect in your eyes from the force, and you're knocked backwards, or to the side, depending on the direction of the slap.

"You will not speak of such things." Mother Jessica seethed.

"It doesn't matter if I was his bastard. This was several years before he met you."

Her hands encircled your throat, and you were met with the steely blue eyes of the Reverend Mother in the flesh.

"Shut your mouth. I have one purpose for you, and if you do not fulfill it, you will find how little life has left to offer you."

"-I'm a bastard child, there was never-"

"Sleep."

Jessica could only look with a mix of relief and victory as the Harkonnen slumped forward, pushed into a dream-like state by her command of the Voice. This child was a fighter, she knew it to be true. But she hadn't slapped the young woman out of spite, or fear, rather it had been merely annoying to suggest she was the Duke's child. Jessica knew her deceased concubine well, she knew that if he had made such a mistake as sleeping with the wife of a royal Harkonnen it would have come out before his death, most certainly under the pressure of the move to Arrakis. Not to mention the child in front of her did not look like her duke. She'd know his features anywhere; they were burned into her soul.

"Pesky, belligerent. More Harkonnen than I'd like to admit." Jessica muttered to herself. "Pick her up and have her treated for her wounds. She is useful, for the time being."

The Sayyadina that surrounded her nodded, and a Fremen soldier appeared, hauling the war-worn woman up, towards a medical unit. Jessica knew that her injuries would not be attended to at all if she did not press the matter, so she ensured that the girl was brought into her chambers, that her Sayyadina would oversee the matter to fruition. In the meantime, she had the council of her child Alia to attend to.

"It is done?" the toddler asked, voice uncharacteristically adult, in a tiny little body of a girl.

"Yes, the Harkonnen bastard will be attended to." Jessica murmured.

Her daughter came forward, crawling into her mother's lap. Regardless of her mental age, the body begged for connection from her mother, the soul too.

"She is more than just a bastard, she could be very useful to Paul's cause." Alia mused, childish voice still containing a hint of a lisp.

Jessica hummed, stroking the blonde curls that were springing from her daughter's scalp.

"How do I manipulate her to our needs?"

Alia furrowed her brow, thinking carefully. It seemed the little girl blessed with such mental and psychic foresight was momentarily at a loss for words, carefully considering her next proposal.

"She is like her brother. She has wounds, desires, all of which are accessed through physicality, through sexual manipulation." the girl spoke.

Jessica looked at her daughter carefully.

"So, I bed her?"

Alia shook her head.

"Seduction comes in many ways. If it pleases you to engage with her like that..." but Alia did not finish the thought. "It is not necessary to go all the way."

Jessica hummed, returning to petting her daughters curls. Upon inspection, they were covered in dirt and sand. It was natural for the Caladan born woman to immediately think of baths, but on Arrakis no such luxury could exist. Her daughter was of the desert, conceived upon Arrakis, of this Jessica was sure. Secondly was the matter of her daughter's strange connection to the sands. Alia smelled of the desert, an eerie quality Jessica could not explain. Truth be told, the warrior-child scared her. The mere toddler, the small body that contained such irreputable wisdom and violence, it was a body that should have glowed with innocence, of mindless naivety.

"Mother, of what do you think?" Alia asked, seemingly sensing the dark, contemplative nature of her mother.

"Of matters that you need not concern yourself with, my daughter." Jessica answered curtly. "... I have but one request. Stop wielding those knives. Your mind is old, but your body is young.."

"-I will be fine." Alia shrugged, hopping off of her mother's lap, walking away.

Watching her daughter display such independence was exhaustingly emotional. Jessica felt the tell-tale sign of her eyes burning, and the willpower it took to restrain the tears that begged to fall was more exhausting than just allowing her body to release a few drops of water. Walking away, Jessica moved towards the body that lay prone some distance aways. Jessica yearned for something to care for, something that needed her, someone that would be loyal, and innocent in the nature of the world in ways that her children could not be. Jessica wanted something to call hers, and hers alone.

<------------->

Glowing light burned through the windows of the conquered city of Arrakis. Smoke wafted through the main palace, the smell tinged with burning hair and flesh. It was grotesque, the smell unforgettable. It reeked of murder, of shed blood.

"Ahh, she awakes." a voice purred, hands encircling you, a face coming into focus.

Blue eyes of the desert came into view. Tattoos, marks of prophecy; symbols your mind could not comprehend adorned her face. Hair, brown and dark, hints of grey peppered in amongst the rest of her straight hair.

"Who are you?"

The woman smiled, and her breath was unnaturally odorless. The product of fasting, you assumed.

"You may call me Lady Jessica, if that suits you." the woman murmured. "Or Reverend Mother."

Lady Jessica Atreides, mother of Paul Atreides, the Lisan al Gaib, Muad'dib of the Fremen, prophet, the mind to bridge time and space. The mother of the demon-child Alia, St. Alia of the Knife, abomination, Reverend Mother, that which should have remained unborn. You knew her well. You knew of her hell-spawn, her corruption, her disregard for higher authority. She submitted to her son, but that was an illusion, you assumed.

"No." you rasped. "No, no, no, no!"

Jessica pressed a hand over your mouth, silencing you.

"Shh," she cooed. "No fear, no cries for help. None of it will make a difference for what I have planned for you."

Since you were a child, since before you had the ability to comprehend the complexities of being a Harkonnen, of being a but a half-breed, you'd always known that it had been okay to run to your mother. Scraped knee? Mother. Your older brothers cornering you? Run to mother. Maids jeering and bothering you? Mother. Lonely, scared and wet after an acid polluted thunderstorm caught you and burned your skin red and painful? Mother. It was in these moments of foolish vulnerability that your heart would sing for that connection, that safety. It was futile. Emmi Harkonnen had died years prior.

"Hmm... Alia may have made her first mistake." Jessica mused, dissecting your fearful micro-expressions. "Or only partly right."

Jessica's hands reached up, cupping your face, brushing hair out of your eyes. Thumbs glided over your brows, analyzing your expressions carefully.

"No... You'll be much easier to crack this way..."

Hauling you up and into her arms felt deceptively easy for Jessica. Her body had hardened and grown sinewy with tough, resistant muscle the longer she remained in the desert. She drew you to her breast, resting head in the crook of her armpit. She reeked of sweetness, of sweat long dried, of the unmistakable tang of spice.

"There... Don't fight it, don't try to hide away." Jessica whispered, her breath now sickly sweet, from low-blood sugar, you guessed.

"You need to stop fasting." you murmured. "Your breath is sweet."

Jessica laughed a little, cradling you closer.

"I have complete control of my bodily functions. You need not concern yourself with the matters of my health."

Hands dragged over the cloth clothes the Sayyadina had pulled over you. Bandages covered your body in innumerable places, your leg was especially bandaged, the product of the fracture you'd sustained. Jessica continued stroking your face, pulling you closer, fingers desperately combing through your hair.

"It's been so long since someone's needed me... Even my own daughter outgrew the need for me once she was a year old..." Jessica whispered, her face showing signs of paranoia, of unmistakable jealous rage. "The Bene Gesserit have taken so much from me... My mother first, then my innocence, my connection with my Duke, my son's innocence, the life of my beloved, even my own daughter."

There was a madness in her eyes that could not be explained. She was strong, ruthless, ready to take and take and milk the desert of every last devotion to her cause, to her children that it could offer. But yet with all that work, with all that pain and suffering she'd put forth, her children grew farther apart from her. Jessica grabbed at the Harkonnen woman with desperation, pulling her in as close as their mortal forms could allow.

"No, you will be mine and you will love me."

"Let me go, I want to go home." you protested, trying to wiggle out of the woman's arms.

The madness in her eyes grew brighter, and she smiled obscenely.

"But you are home."

"I live on Giedi Prime." you whimpered.

Jessica let out a laugh so harsh it might have been mistaken for screech.

"Giedi Prime? No child. I could not send you back to your decaying father, to the dark, colorless, soulless world of Giedi Prime. You belong to me now. Arrakis will be your home. Then, one day, when the time comes, you and I will return to Caladan. We will live on the cliffs, the oceans will sing to us, the breeze... We will remember the good days, and make them ours once again..."

The woman in front of you, the woman who cradled you was haunted, deranged in ways that could not be explained. Whether she had been pushed too far by the loss of her house and her beloved Duke, or whether it had been the Fremen Spice Agony that had caused her to be so utterly consumed by her desires, by her visions of Paul and his propheted status as the Lisan al Gaib.

"I want to be close to my mother." you whispered.

This gave Jessica some pause, she stalled her frantic massage of your scalp, your neck, your face.

"I could be your mother, if you wanted." she whispered. "I could be that for you... I could be whatever you needed, just so long as you needed me."

Jessica seemed on the verge of a breakdown of some sort. Whether it would result in violence, in verbal aggression, tears, yelling or complete psychosis, she was close to cracking all the way.

"I just. Need you. To need me." Jessica whispered.

Pity. The first feeling that came over you when she said those words. The woman in front of you was fearsome, yes. But the truth was she was broken. For all the psychic enhancement and wisdom she'd maintained, she was scarred and brutalized, a thing of beauty and willpower turned feral and menacing due to the elements of the desert planet Arrakis. It was a look you'd seen in your mother, days before Feyd had murdered her. An animal cornered, and animal bearing it's teeth and striking out at anything that dared confront it. Fear. For all of Jessica's training and years of containing her fears, she had never conquered one. Jessica Atreides, Reverend Mother and widower of the Duke Atreides, daughter of the Baron Harkonnen, mother of the most fearsome leader of the advanced times was afraid of being abandoned, of no longer being needed.

"... I don't want a mother... I don't think I could bear treating another woman with the same type of affections as I gave my mother."

Jessica's face spasmed in grotesque anger and betrayal.

"But I need someone. And I don't have anyone to turn to."

She swallowed, a vein on her forehead bulging with the stress of containing her emotions.

"I am that person." she rasped, voice coming out in violent puffs of air. "No one else will put up with you, no one else will bother keeping you alive. You are stuck on Arrakis. The Harkonnen troops are dead, Grossu Rabban is dead. No one will come to save you." Jessica sneered, violently digging her hands into your hair. "The Bene Gesserit will abandon Princess Irulan here as the bride of Paul, the Emperor will retreat back to House Corrino with the Bene Gesserit. They will not bother hauling a bastard such as yourself with you."

Her words rang harsh, true. You needed the woman in front of you to survive, and you suspected that without someone to love, to love her back in the ways she needed, she too would find herself irrevocably insane.

"I know."

"Silence!"

Your mouth clamped shut, teeth clacking together aggressively. Jessica let out a low whimper, holding you close. She seemed to be muttering in a foreign language, eyes glazed from effort. It was becoming apparent that Jessica did not have control over her body as she said she did, or, more accurately, she was pushing it to limits that were unsustainable. You managed to reach for a glass of water. Jessica did not notice. Your throat begged for moisture, you needed the water as much as she did, but if she died and you didn't... No one would keep you alive.

"..." you tried to speak, but the command remained.

Bringing the cup to her lips, you managed to coax her into drinking. Jessica's hands flew to the cup, gulping down the water greedily. You suspected it was the first time she'd had water in days. Dates lay on the table. Again you were presented with the dilemma of eating it and fueling your weak body or giving it to the weakened Jessica. You brought the dates to her mouth, one by one until they were gone. She appeared to recover gradually. As her senses came to her, she called out to a Sayyadina, requesting something.

"You are wiser than I thought." Jessica murmured. "I had not realized how long I had been fasting."

The Sayyadina returned with food, hot and earthy smelling. She handed you a bowl, allowing yourself to eat without help. But as you struggled with coordinating in the awkward position, she ultimately grabbed the bowl, spoon feeding you like a child. Water was provided, and the relief it brought was indescribable. Jessica finished her own portion of food, ingesting more water. She appeared to be healthier now, more content and less capable of descending into madness.

"There. Now we are both taken care of." Jessica smiled. "You may speak now, the command only lasts for as long as I wish it to."

You looked around, seemingly looking for something to say to test your ability to speak, but found none. Jessica noticed this, humming appreciatively.

"Alright then, if I must speak first, so be it. You said that you did not need a mother. Of that I can understand, but do not necessarily agree with. Everyone needs a mother figure in their life, until middle adulthood I would imagine. You are young still, you require coaxing, teaching, nurturing."

Jessica's words were wise, of that you could not argue with.

"But you do not wish for a mother figure. I will not press the matter. I will allow you to naturally find that mother figure, but, you will receive all of your needs for companionship, for safety, for community directly through me."

Her words contradicted themselves, but dwelling on it seemed unwise. Jessica leaned forward, searching your eyes with hers in a way that seemed uncannily invasive.

"I'll find exactly how you need me." Jessica whispered. "Don't worry."

Her breath smelled of the curry she'd eaten. It was hot, no longer tinged with sweetness. And her eyes danced in ways that seemed almost provocative.

"... Oh no. I retract my earlier statement. My daughter was right." she whispered, voice a little husky, slightly hoarse.

A hand trailed down your thigh, nails snagging on the thin fabric, making contact with the skin beneath your pants.

"Desire."

The command inflamed your injury-restricted desires, white-hot lust burning through your body in maddening ways.

"Oh, I've always wanted to try that." Jessica smiled, eyes a little manic as she watched heat bloom over your cheeks. "Open your mouth."

It wasn't a direct command infused with the Voice, but in your altered state, it might as well have been.

"Accept the gift of my water." Jessica whispered, spitting into your mouth.

In any other circumstance, the act would have been seen as ridiculously demeaning, but combined with your basic knowledge of Fremen culture and the lust-addled state of your brain, it was enough to cause a slight gasp to fall from your lips. Jessica let out a soft laugh, kissing your cheek forcefully.

"Swallow."

You did as obeyed, her spit sliding down your throat. Jessica caught the motion with her lips, savoring the act.

"Again." Jessica whispered, hand holding your jaw.

Her saliva hit your tongue, and you closed your mouth. You waited for her lips to find your throat before swallowing. Jessica hummed, bringing your body closer.

"Now my water lives inside of you. You'll be mine before you know it."

Slowly, about as slowly as it took for your body to absorb the moisture she'd delivered you, your body stopped desiring. But the humiliation of the act lingered. The claim, the power she had of you, her words. That remained for much longer than you cared to admit.

[madamevirgo]

Could i dare request rebecca Ferguson X her younger actress girlfriend? Like she is the new Hollywood face and its always in something doing awesome roles?

And becca goes with her to the oscars to see her winning for the first time and they are so lovey dovey for each other

Promises

Pairing: Rebecca Ferguson x (f!)reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: angst, softness, cheesiness, my writing

A/N: I want you all to know that I immediately started writing this after I finished writing & posting the Lady Jessica one. At around 5am, at its 6pm now. Also, I was going to pair this one with a similar request, but then I got sooo many ideas for this. I loved loved writing this! Thank you for the request :)

I put on my best smile as I stepped in front of the live audience where Jimmy Fallon was waiting for me. I was here to promote my new film, a romcom. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, our first guest tonight Y/n L/n!” I danced my way to the small podium and kissed both of Jimmy’s cheeks, taking the time to blow some kisses to the crowd before settling down on the chair.

“Wow, what an energetic audience,” I said with a laugh as the crowd cheered. 

“That’s right! The last time I interviewed you was during COVID.” He realized 

“Right, I did it with sweatpants on and from the comfort of my place.” He laughed at that. 

“I mean I’ll wear sweatpants next time if you do.” He said, and I extended a hand for a handshake to seal the deal. “Another thing that’s changed is you weren’t an Academy Award Nominee the last time we talked.” And I laughed as the crowd cheered. 

“It’s been quite a journey, Jimmy.” I giggled, feeling heat rush to my face.

“I’ll say! Let’s take a look here.” He reached down to grab a file and I leaned over to see what else he was hiding. He swatted me away playfully and I pouted. “Right, so since the last time we met, you appeared in a Marvel production, a role you’re set to reprise. You became a series regular for a book adaptation, appeared in three music videos, starred in a RomCom, attended the Met Gala, and got nominated for 5 awards, including the best leading actress. And still found the time to see me today.” He pretended to be out of breath, making me and the crowd laugh. 

“I’ll always have time for you, Jimmy,” I said with a sweet smile. 

“See! That’s what I’m talking about. This sweetness that you’re known for, I can’t wait to see it in the RomCom.” the crowd applauded. 

“I wouldn’t count on it. My character is quite different from me.” I said secretively. “And that’s all I’ll say about that. Go watch the movie if you want to know more.” I added as he opened his mouth to no doubt get more information.

“Okay, that's fair. But since we’re on the subject of love,” I rolled my eyes at that, knowing where he was going. “Is there a special someone in your life right now? One you’ll be seeing the movie with?” He added devilishly. 

“Well, there are multiple loved ones I’ll be seeing the movie with.” This caused the crowd to boo at me and I laughed. “Look, all I know is that I’m very happy right now and not lacking love in my life,” I said with a smile. 

“I guess your happiness is what matters ultimately.” He said with a sigh, making me laugh. 

“Thanks, Jimmy,” I said as I squeezed his hand softly. The crowd awed

“Alright, enough cheesiness. We’re taking a quick break, and when we come back - Y/n and I will be playing a game.” He said before turning to me to continue the conversation we were having before going on air, as the crew rushed in. 

———————

I let out a sigh as I was finally able to take off my heels after a long day, before dropping on the couch in my hotel room. Today was the last day of our press tour. We had just flown in from Paris last night and after an early morning, we spent the day running around New York for interviews. Some of them, I did alone - others with my costar who thankfully was a gem. 

Still, it had been an exhausting few weeks, and day - and there was only one thing that I wanted right now. I reached the coffee table where I had dropped my handbag and searched for my phone. I composed a number I knew by heart and waited. 

“Hello?” Instantly, my eyes lit up and a smile appeared on my face. 

“Hi, honey.” I started as I got comfortable on the couch. “Can I FaceTime you?” As soon as I’d uttered the words, I received a request to switch to video. One I was more than happy to accept. 

My smile immediately widened as the face of my girlfriend appeared on the screen. It wasn’t the same as having her with me, but it would have to do for now. 

“There you are,” I whispered

“There you are.” She echoed back and we shared a soft smile. From the looks of it, she had just woken up from a nap on set. I recognized her trailer, and I was suddenly aware of the fact that she was in the UK, in a different timezone. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to speak these past few days,” I said softly 

“This is the life we signed up for, Y/n/n.” She said with a soft smile, although her eyes lacked the glint that they usually had. Something was wrong. “I wish we could always be together, but that’s not possible.” She whispered.

This caused me to frown. “Rex? What’s this about? This is only a busy time in our lives, and frankly, we’ve overcome bigger issues.” I said. “You’re done promoting Dune: Part 2, and you’ll finish filming Silo soon. After that, we’ll have some time to ourselves before the crazy starts back again. We just have to get through award season and then things will settle.” I said convincingly. 

“You’re right. It’s just - I was watching your interviews and it sucked to see you avoiding all questions regarding your love life. With the distance, it kinda feels like we’re not together anymore.” She sighs and suddenly lets out a humourless laugh. “This is so stupid, we’ve been dating for two, almost three years! I shouldn’t be so bothered by the distance. I must be getting my fucking period or something.” 

“Rebecca,” I say as my voice breaks. I had no idea she felt like that and seeing her so distraught, broke my heart. 

“I’m sorry, honey.” She says with that same humourless laugh that I despise. It doesn’t hold a candle to her real one. “I guess the long filming hours and going back and forth between Silo and promoting Dune has gotten to me more than I thought.” She sighs and rubs her eyes. 

“Maybe I could-” I’m interrupted by a knock on her trailer door. As she goes to open it, I hear voices, before she reappears on the screen, to end the call no doubt. 

“I’m sorry baby, they’re waiting for me in the writers’ room. I’ll talk to you later, ya?” I nod softly, the lump in my throat preventing me from speaking. She smiles at me before ending the call. 

As I stare at the hotel’s ceiling, I make a decision. 

———-

The second I step outside the airport, I’m greeted by the seemingly permanent English rain. It didn’t take me long, after my call with Rebecca had ended to get my things in order and get on a flight to the UK, where she was filming. 

Thankfully, the press tour for my movie had ended, because that would have put me in a very difficult situation, what with having to cancel some appearances. My girlfriend was sad, and nothing was going to stop me from getting to her. 

As I got into the cab that my assistant had arranged for me, I felt grateful that no reporters were around to hound me. It was still quite early and my disguise of a hoodie and sunglasses protected me long enough from the sight of the few of them lingering around. 

I didn’t spend much time at the hotel. Just enough for a shower and a change of clothes, before I was once again back on the road towards her filming location. I was let into the premises without too much of a hassle. I had the foresight to reach out to Rex’s assistant on the flight over and she had been able to grant me access, and before long I was being led to my girlfriend’s trailer by her assistant. 

“She just finished filming so she’s already in her trailer. I didn’t tell her you were coming as you asked, so she’ll be quite surprised.” She talked quietly. 

It was still early morning on set, some people were either starting to wake up or getting in from filming all night.

“How has she been doing?” I had a vague idea, but I wanted to hear it from someone who was with her when I couldn’t. 

“She’s been exhausting herself a lot. The press tour for Dune is over, but she’s still doing a lot with filming and being an executive director here.” She said sadly, and I nodded. “I’m glad you’re here Y/n. It’ll do her good to see you. I cleared her schedule for the day, so you could at least get some rest together. I know you’ve been busy too. I spoke to your assistant.” She said sternly and I rolled my eyes. These two. 

We arrived at the trailer and my heart started beating a little faster. “Thanks, Kelly, I owe you one,” I said to the assistant as I slipped inside the trailer. 

It didn’t take me long to find her around the vast camper. She was in bed, seemingly asleep. I approached her quietly and sat on the other side which had been left untouched. The side of the bed I usually slept on at home. 

I rubbed her shoulder gently, to not scare her. She opened her eyes softly and looked around, slightly disoriented before settling on me. I smiled. 

“Hi, my love,” I whispered. She stared at me for a few seconds, before sitting up and grabbing my face with both hands. 

“Y/n/n?” She said with wide eyes. “Are you really here?” She asked, roaming over my face and caressing my cheeks as if to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. 

“I’m here, Rex,” I replied with a smile before she latched herself to me in a hug, making me laugh. 

“How? Why?” She asked in the crook of my neck.

“You sounded so sad on FaceTime, I had to make sure you were okay. Plus, I missed you - so I grabbed the first flight here.” I explained as I tightened my hug and kissed her forehead. 

“Thank you.” She whispered. 

“Let’s get some sleep, and then we can talk about what you’re feeling. Okay?” I felt her nod and rearranged our positions so we were lying down. She immediately spooned me. 

For the first time in months, we slept together peacefully. 

—-------------------------

When I woke up, I felt much more at peace. I slowly opened my eyes with a smile, one which widened when I met the eyes of my girlfriend.

“You’re staring,” I whispered, my smile not leaving my face.

She put a hand on my cheek and caressed softly, before leaning down to put her lips on mine. Once we separated, she put her forehead on mine.

“How are you feeling?” I mumbled, not wanting to break the trance we were in.

“How are you feeling? She mumbled back, and I smiled.

“Better now that I’m here.” she rolled her eyes and scoffed. 

“Sap,” she said before taking a break. “Last night, I- It was a lot wasn’t it.” she finished. 

“No, you expressing how you feel will never be a lot or too much,” I added hurriedly. “It just kinda felt like you were on the verge of ending things,” I said quietly, I felt my heart beating widely as I held my breath. 

“Ending things? Y/n. Y/n/n, look at me.” she said as she grabbed my face in both hands forcing me to look at her. “I. Love. You. and it’s because I love you that I am finding our current situation so hard. Not being able to be with you or have you with me in front of everybody to celebrate our achievements. Or how we have to act single or like we’re just friends. I hate reading about the people they’re linking you to romantically. I just want to scream ‘She’s mine. Back off.’ And it’s kinda killing me.” she said as she leaned against the headboard. 

“I am yours,” I said as I grabbed her hands, willing myself not to cry. 

“I know baby. Just like I know you understand and feel the same way,” she said as I looked down. We stayed quiet for a moment, thinking of our predicament and what was being stolen from us. 

“The Oscars,” I suddenly said with renewed hope, as she looked at me in confusion. “I know we’re both technically going with our own cast - but would you go with me as my date,” I asked before quickly adding. “Unless - maybe our agents are right and we sh-” she interrupted me as I felt the doubt take over. 

“They’re not. And we should have never let them silence our love,” she said. “Of course, I’ll go with you. We’ll pose on the red carpet, I’ll kiss you in front of the camera lights and when you win - no one will cheer louder than me,” she said with a wide smile. I was quick to tackle her to the bed, kissing her all over her face. 

Her laughter made my heart sing. 

—-------------

This was not how I wanted the day to go. I was supposed to wake up bright and early, have some breakfast from her favourite cafe in the city delivered to her hotel room at the same time that she would receive the huge bouquet I had ordered weeks in advance.  Then, as we both got ready in our own hotel, we’d be texting like teenagers going on a first date, right until the red carpet. There, I’d see her and rush to her without a care in the world. I would tell her how beautiful she looks and we’d pose for pictures and kiss. Interviewers would have questions about our relationship, and we’d laugh our way through them. Rebecca, answering with her usual charm and wit, and me with heart eyes solely focused on her. 

Instead, my flight from Toronto had been delayed and I was rushing to get ready. I wouldn’t make it to the red carpet on time, with this traffic, only being able to slide in as the awards started. 

I had spoken to Rex when I landed and obviously, she hadn’t been happy.

“Hi, honey! Where are you, it’s kinda loud,” she said joyfully. I could hear the rushing around as her glam team worked. 

“I’m at the airport,” I said and closed my eyes, as there was silence on the other end. 

“I’m guessing you’re not going to make it to the red carpet?” she asked, and my lack of answer confirmed the statement. “Of course, it would’ve been too easy. It was stupid to hope th-” She cut herself off and let out a sigh. 

“Rex, don’t say that. This is nothing, we still hav-” she interrupted me as I tried to fix things desperately.

“I have to go. I’ll see you there.” and with that, she ended the call. 

She hadn’t answered any of my calls or replied to my texts since then. I wanted to believe that they had taken her phone away so they could focus on getting ready, but my anxiety was telling me something else. 

The car rolled up to the venue and I was quickly rushed inside and to my seat as the host was in the middle of his opening monologue. 

“And here comes Y/n L/n, everyone. She’s nominated for best leading actress tonight, ladies and gentlemen.” the audience clapped and I tried to calm my heart as my face appeared on the big screens. But the host wasn’t quite done with me, yet. “Doesn’t she look beautiful? Straight from a fairytale. Although, if I recall correctly, Cinderella rushed out of the ball, not to it.” he said as the audience laughed and I felt myself wanting to die. 

Thankfully he moved on, and the ceremony started. I was almost breaking my neck trying to find Rebecca, and when I did, I tried to catch her eyes - to convey how sorry I was. But she never glanced my way. I was so lost in thought that I would have missed my category coming up if it wasn’t for my costar grabbing my hand in support. 

I held my breath as the nominees were listed. And when I heard my name being called, I felt myself freeze, before being lifted in a hug and passed around from one costar to another. I willed myself to put one foot in front of another as I approached the podium under the congratulations and applause. 

I was almost to the stage when I glanced left and saw Rebecca’s face with a wide smile, clapping widely. That’s one promise that had been kept today. 

She looked beautiful, and it was as if I were in a trance as I approached her. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of her. She looked at me with a soft smile and with anticipation in her eyes, and that was all the invitation I needed to kiss her in front of all of Hollywood. That was another promise kept. 

And later on, when I posed for pictures with my Oscar and I danced at the after party, she was right there with me, as we kept our promises to each other. 

—-------------

“Hi, I’m Y/n L/n and I’ll be reading your tweets,” I said with a smile as I reached into the fish bowl for the first one. 

“Okay, this one is from @lesbianstan2000: Do you think Rebecca Ferguson uses The Voice on Y/n L/n?” I read before letting out a laugh. “She doesn’t need to. I’ll happily do whatever she asks.” I say as I wink into the camera. 

[cakexblankett]

Into me you see

Character

Lady Jessica

Rating

Green

Words

1.586

~•~

"Here are the candidates, Lady Jessica."

"Hm you can leave now."

Lady Jessica took a guick glance at all the seven girls aligned in front of her. Her eyes stopped on you. You didn't dare look in her direction, your face cold and unexpressive. She came closer to you, looking up and down at your form. She gestured for the others to leave, and they immediately took off. You remained alone with her, your muscles tensed.

"Look at me."

You did as you were told, your E/C eyes looking directly at hers. She was beautiful, her jawline was defined and her cheeks almost hollow but that didn't take away her feminity.

"Tell me your name."

"Y/N."

She hummed, and with her hand put a stranded hair in its place. Her touch was gentle and her palm slightly touched your face, which almost made you jump. You weren't used to these small gestures of affection.

"I know you carry a knife."

Your eyes widened. How could she tell? She smiled, and her hand moved slowly down your body. You were prepared to attack at any moment, but something told you not to. Her hand trailed down your torso, until she found the knife and threw it away from the two of you.

"Now we're both unarmed."

Your jaw tensed, and you faked a smile. You didn't want to be there, but that woman made you curious somehow, so you tried refraining your violent impulses.

"You're a Fremen."

"And very proud to be one."

Your chest puffed, and you looked down at her. She just smiled at you, and you began being irritated by her kindness and gentleness. You knew it was a façade; as soon as you would have trusted her she would have stabbed you in the back.

"I want to entrust my life to you."

You rolled your eyes, and chuckled. She was so naïve, thinking that a Fremen girl like you would help a woman like her, the concubine of the Duke that would certainly ruin your land.

Lady Jessica's smile never left her pale face. You gazed at her curiously.

"You may not know it now, but we are a part of a bigger plan."

You raised one of your brows, inquiringly. Could she be talking about...?

"Lisan Al-Gaib..."

You whispered. She nodded, her smile fading. You gulped; she could be lying, but something told you she wasn't. The prophecy was finally becoming reality, and you were going to be a part of it.

You kneeled, and bowed your head.

"I will protect you with my life."

Her hand came to touch your veil, and hummed. You looked up and saw the face of a true Bene Gesserit, the bearer of the Lisan Al-Gaib.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Weeks have passed since you became Lady Jessica's bodyguard. You followed her around the house, helped her with easy and hard tasks. You never left her side, you even slept in her room. You wondered why she didn't sleep with the Duke, but didn't dare ask, it wasn't your place to know these things.

"Y/N."

You bowed your head, her tone was different this time. You could tell from the slight shaking of her voice, and how she tortured her hands.

"Yes, Lady Jessica?"

She began pacing around the room, eyes closed, breath laboured. You simply looked at her, motionless. You started getting attached to her, your little and scarred heart began to feel again. You remained wary, but you knew it was a matter of time before all your walls would crumble.

You had a troubled past, your childhood passed under the tyranny of the Harkonnens. Your mother was killed when you were only four, and your dad disappeared not long after. People abused you, people walked away and never came back. Your people, the Fremen, tried her best to take care of you but the loss of your parents made you cold and distant and, above all, a warrior.

But all that seemed like a distant nightmare when you were with Lady Jessica. You didn't know what it meant to love someone but maybe she could show you, you wanted her to. You wanted her to take your heart and keep it in hers, away from all the hurt and pain.

She stopped in front of you and her hand cupped your cheek.

"I fear the time has come."

You furrowed your brows, not understanding. She smiled, and you gazed at her in adoration. Her smile was warm and beautiful, it almost made you smile in return. But you hadn't smiled in so long you feared you would look ridiculous.

"Time for what, my lady?"

A tear rolled down her cheek and you instinctively raised a hand and wiped it away with your thumb. Then, you put your thumb in your mouth. She watched you suck your thumb, your lips around it. She licked her lips, then closed her eyes.

"We don't waste water here."

She nodded, retreating her hand from your face. The loss of her warm touch made you whine.

"Prepare yourself to fight."

"My lady, I fear I don't understand-"

She raised a hand and you took the hint and stayed silent. At the end of it all, you were there to fight, it was your mission. To save Lady Jessica's life, even if it meant losing yours. You didn't mind, you would have walked through fire if it meant she would be safe from it. You weren't there to understand, you were there to follow orders, without questioning them.

"I regret choosing you."

There it was. You knew it, but you hoped those words would never come out of her mouth. Everybody had always regreted it, you were never the first option. It was strange she chose you in the first place, but she did, and you wondered why. But that didn't matter now, because she regreted it. What did you do to make her say that? You always tried your best to follow her orders, you thought it was going farely well.

You would have cried, you really would have. You felt so heartbroken, almost like you would explode at any moment, but your face remained the same, and your hands didn't shake, although you felt cold. A voice inside of you kept telling you that it was only natural she felt that way.

You remained silent, watching her as she paced around the room again.

"I shouldn't have chose you..."

You gulped, hands coming into a fist at your sides. You tried your best to remain calm, closing your eyes.

"If I didn't... you would have been safe."

You opened your eyes and gazed at her moving figure.

"I'm sorry?"

She stopped, her back facing you. You couldn't see the tears rolling down her cheeks but you could see her tremble. You didn't know if it was ok for you to come closer, so you didn't.

"You shouldn't be here, it's not safe. I'm sorry, I've been selfish, you should be with your people, away from this house. Now you might die, all because I..."

She sobbed, her voice cracking. Fuck it, you took three long steps and put your hand on her shoulder. She put hers on top of it and squeezed yours gently. You were a bit embarrased, you didn't know what to do or what to say.

"I'm sorry, it's all my fault."

You looked all around you, you couldn't bare see her in such a state.

"I... I'm glad you chose me."

You blushed, biting your tongue. She looked up at you, her eyes red and her cheeks wet.

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here."

She smiled, that smile that made you melt. She took your hand and kissed it gently. Her lips on your skin made you feel on fire, you almost couldn't take it, the way she made you feel was ethereal.

"I knew I made the right choice."

You smiled, a shy and clumsy smile, but it was sincere. It was your first, true smile in what felt a decade.

"If something is really going to happen tonight..."

She looked right at you, her blue eyes locked in yours. The eyes are the window of the soul, hers was strong willed but uncertain.

"I just want you to know..."

You took a big breath in, averting your eyes from her. Her hand was still holding yours, and her touch made you feel so many things, things you never felt before. You felt like you were going mad.

"I... will protect you, even if it means I will die in the process."

"I know."

You nodded, and retreated you hand from hers. She let go of your hand, and turned away from you. You suddenly felt cold, and you shivered for a second. You could never ask her to love you, you knew her heart was in the Duke's hands. Will anyone ever love you? Nobody ever did, nobody ever will.

But she loved you, not in the way you did, but she cared for you, and that was enough. She saw your potential, she chose you to protect her, and you would do anything to make her proud of you. So if that night you would have lost your life, so be it.

Into me you see

You've got me wide open

Open sesame

Into me you see

You've got me wide open

Now I'm ready

Is this intimacy?

@marvelwomenrule

[fandomnerd9602]

Stephanie Strange walks over to Y/N…

Strange: I love you

Y/N: I love you too

Strange: but I mean I love you love you.

She caresses their face…

Strange: I love you in every universe

Y/N: I’m not going anywhere Doc

Strange: neither am I

Y/N gently kisses her…

[fantasyqueen502]

In Sickness and in Health

Rated: PG-13

Author's note: An idea I had of Leto and Jessica having an enemies to lovers relationship in the beginning. In addition to a polyamerus relationship with the Duchess in the beginning before Paul's birth. Happy reading.

The door to the master bedroom opens. The sliver of entry allows Duke Leto to see Jessica and only Jessica. The Bene Gesserit handmaiden of his Duchess. He eyes her in annoyance exhaling a long breath through his nose. Grinding his teeth to remain cordial.

“My Lady wishes not to see any visitors at this time.” She states leaving no room for negotiation.

“I am her husband, not no mere visitor.” he corrects.

“Advised by the doctors, the Duchess needs rest.”

“Jessica.” He hissed.

She doesn’t miss a beat, continuing her thought. “I'm sure you have lots to talk about to ensure her swift recovery in the meantime.” she ends with a proud smile. Closing the door he attempted to barge his way into the room.

Key word being attempted.

Within two moves the Duke was now on his knees, the petite woman having him in a headlock.

“Stop it Jess.” The Duchess croaks from her place on the bed.

Earning a look from the Duchess. Jessica huffs letting the Duke go, his face flushed and eyes teary as he inhaled and coughed to steady his breathing.

Running her hands over her blouse and dress to smooth out any wrinkles from its ruffled state.

“I would have you dead if it wasn't for my child.” he growls getting to his feet.

“Leto!” The Duchess scolds weakly struggling to sit up from her place in bed.

“Watch me tremble before the grand Duke Atreides” She cowares mockingly.

“Jess!” shouts pushing the blankets away. Prepared to intervene if necessary.

“Witch!” He spat.

“Leto!”

“Bastard!” Jessica pushes through gritted teeth.

“Stop it you two!” The Duchess commands falling into a coughing fit. The two direct their full attention to her.

Jessica picking up a clean handkerchief. Helping her sit up holding the cloth in front of her mouth. Patting her back painting the white cloth yellow and red. Leto pours a glass of water. Breathing easier now Jessica folds up the cloth after cleaning the edges of her lips.

She cradles her face, the Duchess humming as she leans into Jessica's cool hands. “I'll clean up.” She informs placing a kiss on her nose.

“Ok.” the duchess whispers.

Jessica cleans her hands and disposes of a plate of untouched breakfast, used bloody rags and wash bowl.

Leto takes her place on the bed assisting his wife in grasping the full glass. His hands ghosted her own as they trembled as she sipped.

“You must be disgusted.” She mumbles face flushed with embarrassment.

“Worried? Yes, absolutely, but you can never disgust me.” He assures placing a peck on her lips.

“Well I'm disgusted you did that.” She chuckles softly.

“In sickness and in health, right?”

She hums, giving a nod as he holds her close. Raising his chin for her to snuggle her head perfectly under it.

“How was your morning?” she mumbles into his chest.

“Uneventful. Didn't realize how unbearable council meetings were without my favorite councilwoman.”

“I’m sure it wasn't that bad.”

“No, it was. So hurry up and get better.”

She laughs. “Shhhhhh…I'm faking so I can sleep in and be fawned over.”

Leto laughs. The two fall into comfortable peace in each other's company.

Jessica returns seeing her spot is taken and Leto has no plans of moving.

The duchess perks up. “I wanna talk to Paul some more.” Making grabby hands towards Jessica.

Smiling smugly rounding the bed to the Duchess’ free side. Embracing Jessica’s waist snuggling her cheek against the side of her belly. Jessica placed a hand on her head raking her fingers over scalp, a calming ritual.

“Mommy and Daddy are driving me insane.” She snickers feeling the soft kicks against her cheek. Humming along as if in conversation. “I don't know?” She coos. “I love them both. They love me. They'd do anything for you. You'd think with so much in common they'd be thick as thieves.” She wonders.

Jessica bites her lip to mask the expression of discomfort on her face.

“He's upset you two woke him from his nap.” The Duchess informs them.

“You don't say.” Jessica quips wincing as she rubs the side of her stomach where their child began this post nap cartwheels.

“Paul and I will greatly appreciate it if you two apologize and cease this childish rivalry.” She mumbles.

Jessica and Leto go stiff, breaking their gaze from the Duchess to themselves. Quickly looking away at anything else.

“You’ll be here soon. Feels like I already know you. Mommy and Daddy will fight over you. Without me to ref, they will.” She slurs succumbing to fatigue. “The time I spend with you is a reward in itself.”

Leto swallows thickly looking at Jessica. She holds her lips in a thin line, but her eyes glitter with tears.

“They’ll fight a lot… probably kill each other.” she continues.

Jessica and the Duke chuckle at how true the scenario was.

“My money's on Jessie.” She chuckles. “Don't tell anyone.”

“Leto would put up a good fight.” Jessica coos.

“Put up a good fight.” He echos laughing. “That has to be the most kindhearted statement you've ever said to me.”

The Duchess takes Leto's hand that was clasping hers placing his hand on the front of Jessica's bump.

“I'm sorry, Leto.”

He raises his eyebrows in surprise. Leaning over Jessica doesn't flutter a lash. He places a kiss on her forehead. “I'm sorry, Jessica.”

She flushes looking away. “All is forgiven.”

“He’s really active.” Leto comments smoothing his thumb over her popped belly button.

“He's happy everyone is finally getting along.” The Duchess coos giving Jessica's belly a kiss.