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novaursa · 7 months ago

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Twin Fires

- Summary: Both you and Aegon have no problem expressing your desires openly and torment everybody in the Red Keep.

- Pairing: reader (twin!wife)/Aegon II

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N. For full chronological order of these works visit my blog. The list is pinned on the top. Or, you can read it as a one-shot.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 2 665

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

You sit on the chair beside Aegon, your hand resting lightly on his arm. The room is filled with the dull murmur of the small council meeting, the voices of the Lords Tyland, Larys, Jasper, Otto, and Grand Maester Orwyle blending into an almost rhythmic drone. You can see Aegon's eyes glazing over as his mind drifts away from the discussions of grain supplies and tax levies. You know exactly where his thoughts have gone.

Aegon shifts in his seat, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest. He can't stop thinking about the night before, the way your skin felt against his, the warmth of your breath on his neck. The council's voices fade into the background as he remembers the way you gasped his name, the look in your eyes as he pulled you closer. His lips twitch into a small, satisfied smile.

"Your Grace," Otto's sharp voice cuts through Aegon's reverie. "Would you care to join us in the present? We were discussing the matter of the Dornish threat on our southern border."

Aegon blinks, attempting to pull himself back to the present. "Yes, yes, of course," he says, though he has no idea what Otto was talking about. His mind is still on you, on the way your hair spread out across the pillows, the way you whispered his name.

Otto's eyes narrow. "It seems your thoughts are elsewhere, Your Grace. Perhaps you would care to enlighten us on what is so captivating."

Aegon feels the eyes of the council on him, but he can't help the smirk that forms on his lips. "Just thinking about my Queen," he says, his voice low and suggestive. "Last night was... eventful."

You feel your cheeks heat at the memory and the implication of his words. The council members shift uncomfortably in their seats, while Otto's face turns a deep shade of red.

"Your Grace," Otto says through gritted teeth, "perhaps now is not the time for such... reflections."

Aegon laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Oh, come now, Otto. Surely even you can appreciate the joys of marriage."

Tyland coughs, trying to hide a smile behind his hand, while Larys's eyes gleam with amusement. Jasper seems to be studying a particularly interesting spot on the table, avoiding looking at anyone.

The Grand Maester clears his throat. "Perhaps we should return to the matter at hand," he suggests diplomatically.

"Yes, let's," Otto agrees, his voice tight. "As I was saying, the Dornish—"

Aegon's thoughts drift away again, this time to the look on Otto's face when he walked in on the two of you in the gardens. Aegon had you pressed up against the stone wall, your skirts hitched up around your waist. Otto had stammered and turned bright red, backing away as quickly as he could.

"Y/N," Aegon says, turning to you with a wicked grin, "do you remember when Grandsire walked in on us?"

You can’t help but laugh softly, nodding. "Yes, I do. He looked like he was about to faint."

Otto's knuckles are white as he grips the edge of the table. "Your Grace, please," he grinds out. "This is neither the time nor the place."

"Lighten up, Otto," Aegon says, waving a hand dismissively. "A little levity never hurt anyone."

The tension in the room breaks slightly as the other council members chuckle. Otto, however, looks like he's about to explode.

"Perhaps we should adjourn for today," Aegon suggests, rising to his feet. "I believe we've accomplished quite enough."

Otto opens his mouth to protest, but Aegon is already moving, taking your hand and pulling you to your feet. "Come, Y/N," he says, his voice low and intimate. "Let's continue this discussion elsewhere."

As you leave the room, you can feel the council's eyes on your back, but you don't care. All that matters is the warmth of Aegon's hand in yours, and the promise of what the rest of the day holds.

Aegon leads you through the winding corridors of the Red Keep, his grip on your hand firm and possessive. The flickering torches cast long shadows on the stone walls, creating an intimate atmosphere that sets your heart racing. The echoes of the small council meeting fade away, replaced by the anticipation of what is to come.

Instead of heading to your private chambers, Aegon pulls you toward the grand library, a place of quiet refuge and intellectual pursuit. The scent of old parchment and leather-bound tomes fills the air as you enter, the dim lighting from the candles casting a warm glow on the rows upon rows of books.

"I've been thinking about you all morning," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "I can't wait to continue where we left off last night."

You shiver at his words, your own desire mirrored in his eyes. He leads you to a secluded corner, hidden from view by towering bookshelves. Aegon presses you against the polished wood, his hands eager as they roam your body. The library's quiet solitude only adds to the excitement, the risk of being discovered making your heart race.

But just as Aegon is about to pull you into a passionate kiss, a soft cough from behind a nearby shelf makes you both freeze. Aegon straightens, his head snapping towards the sound. Emerging from the shadows, a book in hand and expression stern, is Aemond.

"Aemond," Aegon says, a smirk playing on his lips. "I didn't expect you to be lurking in the library."

"I can see that," Aemond replies dryly, stepping into the candlelight. "Must you always be so public about your... activities, brother?"

Aegon laughs, the sound deep and unabashed. "Why not? What's the point of being king if you can't enjoy yourself?"

Aemond rolls his eye, clearly unimpressed. "There are other ways to enjoy oneself that don't involve making a spectacle."

Aegon pulls you closer, his hand slipping around your waist. "But where's the fun in that, brother? Life is too short to be so serious all the time."

You can feel the tension in the library, but there's also a hint of amusement in Aemond's gaze. He shakes his head, exasperated but not entirely unamused. "You are impossible, Aegon."

"That's why you love me," Aegon replies, grinning. "Now, if you don't mind, we were in the middle of something."

Aemond raises an eyebrow. "Clearly. But perhaps you could exercise a bit more discretion. The walls have ears, and not all of them are friendly."

Aegon waves a hand dismissively. "Let them listen. Maybe they'll learn something."

You bite your lip to stifle a laugh, the absurdity of the situation not lost on you. Aegon turns his attention back to you, his eyes dark with intent. "Shall we continue, my love?"

Aemond sighs, shaking his head again. "Very well. I'll leave you to it. But please, try to keep it down this time."

As Aemond turns to leave, Aegon can't resist one last jibe. "Don't be jealous, Aemond. You'll find your own fun one day."

Aemond pauses at the doorway, glancing back with a faint smile. "One can only hope."

The door closes behind him, and you and Aegon are alone once more. Aegon pulls you into a deep kiss, his hands eager and insistent. The interruption seems only to have fueled his desire, his need for you more urgent than ever.

"Now, where were we?" he murmurs against your lips, his voice a seductive whisper.

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Right here," you reply, pulling him closer.

As the passion between you reignites, the lingering humor of Aemond's intrusion adds a layer of excitement to the encounter. The grand library might have its hidden eyes and ears, but in this moment, all that matters is the fire burning between you and your king.

Your bodies are entwined, the weight of Aegon's heated skin pressing down on yours as you both clutch desperately at each other in the dimly lit library. The scent of parchment and aged leather fills the air, mixing with the intoxicating musk of your fervent lovemaking. Aegon's platinum blond hair falls over his eyes, glistening with sweat, as he murmurs your name — Y/N — with breathless urgency.

"More, Aegon," you gasp, fingers digging into his back, pulling him closer. His lips are on your neck, your shoulders, everywhere at once, as if he can never get enough of you.

"You always want more," he grins against your skin, his voice a low growl of pleasure and amusement. "And I always want to give it to you."

You arch against him, your breath catching as he moves within you, each thrust bringing you both closer to the edge. Your world narrows to the sensation of his body, the heat of his touch, the sound of his ragged breathing mingling with your own.

Just as the world is about to shatter into a million pieces of ecstasy, the library door slams open with a thunderous crash. "Aegon! Y/N!" Dowager Queen Alicent's voice rings out, sharp and furious.

Aegon jolts, startled, and the sudden motion pushes him deeper into you, causing you both to cry out in unexpected bliss. The impact sends you both stumbling backward into a massive bookshelf. There's a moment of stunned silence before the entire row of shelves begins to topple like dominos, books cascading to the floor in a chaotic storm of paper and bindings.

As the dust settles, you find yourself pinned beneath Aegon, both of you as naked as the day you were born. His violet eyes are wide with a mix of shock and lingering desire, but there's a hint of laughter in them too. You can't help but chuckle softly, the absurdity of the situation taking hold again.

Alicent stands there, her face a mask of fury, flanked by a pale and trembling Grand Maester Orwyle, who looks like he's about to collapse. His precious tomes from the Citadel lie scattered and crushed around you.

"Mother," Aegon starts, still half-laughing, "I didn't hear you knock."

"Knock?" Alicent's voice rises in pitch, her hands clenching at her sides. "You have no sense of shame or propriety! Look at you both!"

You glance at Aegon, then back at your mother, feeling no shame whatsoever. "We were...occupied," you say with a coy smile.

Aegon shifts slightly, still positioned rather intimately, and you can't help but stifle a giggle. "We were, indeed," he agrees, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Alicent throws her hands up in exasperation. "Occupied! In the library! Grand Maester Orwyle has important matters to discuss, and you are here...doing this!"

Orwyle makes a strangled noise, his eyes darting to the ruined books. "My...my tomes..."

Aegon looks around, still atop you, and shrugs. "They can be replaced, Orwyle. Unlike my dear sister-wife, who I cannot get enough of."

You can't help but laugh, reaching up to pull him down for a quick kiss. "Flatterer," you murmur against his lips.

Alicent's face turns an even deeper shade of red. "Enough! Both of you! Get up and get dressed this instant!"

With exaggerated slowness, Aegon finally rolls off you, standing and offering you a hand up. You take it, rising gracefully despite the chaos around you. Neither of you bothers to cover yourselves, reveling in your mother's discomfort.

As you both dress leisurely, Alicent mutters angrily under her breath, and Orwyle looks like he's aged a decade in mere minutes. The library is a mess, but to you and Aegon, it's just another amusing chapter in your reign as King and Queen.

Once clothed, Aegon winks at you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Shall we continue this...discussion later once more, my love?"

You return his smile, feeling the heat already rising again between you. "Oh, absolutely, Your Grace. I can't wait."

Alicent groans, turning away with a huff. "Seven save me," she mutters, but you can see the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. Despite her anger, even she can't deny the unbreakable bond you share with Aegon.

You and Aegon stride through the open doors of the library, a sea of wide-eyed servants parting before you. Whispers and shocked glances follow your every step, but you and Aegon remain completely unaffected, wearing expressions of amused indifference. The thrill of your recent encounter still lingers, and you can feel Aegon's hand subtly brushing against yours, a promise of more to come.

"Well," Aegon muses loudly, his voice echoing down the hallway. "Since the library is no longer an option, how about the throne room next?"

You hear a gasp from a cluster of maids, their faces a mix of scandal and fascination. Just as you are about to reply with a cheeky retort, Alicent's voice rings out from the library, where she is still consulting with Orwyle. "Aegon! Y/N! I swear by the Seven, if you even think about it, you'll both be confined to your chambers for a month!"

Aegon grins, leaning close to whisper in your ear. "I think she's bluffing. The throne room would be quite the statement, don't you think?"

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Perhaps another time, Aegon. We should at least pretend to heed her warnings once in a while."

He sighs dramatically but nods, his arm slipping around your waist as you continue down the hall. "Very well, my Queen. For now."

The next morning, the sun filters through the windows of the council chamber, casting a warm glow over the ancient stone walls. Alicent paces back and forth, her brow furrowed in frustration. Across from her, Otto Hightower sits at a polished wooden table, his expression calm but concerned.

"Alicent," he begins, his tone measured, "we need to address the behavior of the twins. This...scandalous display cannot continue. It undermines their authority and brings dishonor to the throne."

Alicent stops pacing, turning to face her father. "Believe me, Father, I am well aware. Yesterday's debacle in the library was just the latest in a long line of their...indiscretions."

Otto sighs, folding his hands on the table. "We must find a way to curb their impulses. Aegon and Y/N's bond is undeniably strong, but it is also causing disruptions. The court is buzzing with rumors, and the smallfolk are beginning to talk."

Alicent nods, her frustration evident. "I've tried talking to them, scolding them, threatening them with confinement, but nothing seems to work. They simply don't care."

Otto leans back in his chair, considering. "Perhaps we need a different approach. Something more...persuasive. Have you considered involving the High Septon? His influence could carry weight, even with those as headstrong as Aegon and Y/N."

Alicent's eyes widen slightly at the suggestion. "The High Septon? Are we really at that point, Father?"

Otto nods solemnly. "If we are to maintain order and respect, we must consider all options. Aegon is King, and Y/N is Queen, but they must learn that their actions have consequences beyond their own pleasure."

Alicent sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Very well. I will arrange a meeting with the High Septon. Perhaps he can impress upon them the seriousness of their duties."

Otto reaches out to place a reassuring hand on her arm. "It is for the best, Alicent. For the realm, and for them. They must learn to balance their love with their responsibilities."

As Alicent nods, determined but weary, you and Aegon lounge in your chambers, blissfully unaware of the conversation taking place. Wrapped in each other's arms, you share a lazy, contented morning, your laughter and whispered promises a stark contrast to the serious discussions unfolding elsewhere in the Red Keep.

Aegon presses a kiss to your temple, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. "What do you think Mother and Grandsire are plotting now?"

You chuckle, shaking your head. "No doubt some scheme to rein us in. But we have each other, Aegon. Whatever they plan, we'll face it."

He smiles, a slow, lazy grin that makes your heart flutter. "Always, my love. Always."

#game of thrones #house of the dragon #alicent hightower #otto hightower #aemond targaryen #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x y/n #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #hotd aegon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon x reader #house targaryen

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quaintii · 2 years ago

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Across the Street

Part 1

Summary: It's been a couple weeks since a new family moved in, across the street. You go pay them a visit with an offer.

Warnings: no smut yet... just some build-up. Miguel x f!reader (I got the pic from Twitter, the @ is @kimmy_arts0912!!) also sorry that its hella long, plot ykk (pls read a/n at end!)

Part 2 <-

Part 3 <-

On a Sunday afternoon, you decided to go out with your friends at the mall. You hear a knock on front your door and open it. "Hey! I came here early again, didn't I?" Your friend said "Hey Ash! You motion your hand inside your house.

She takes a seat on the couch, smiling and giggling. "Heyy, why are you like that?" You furrow your eyebrows together with a grin on your face, giving her some juice.

You jolt as she stands up quickly and grips your shoulders.

"Did you see that guy across the street?!" She fans herself with her hand, exaggerating and giggling. You raise your eyebrows, not knowing who she's talking about. "No..., why? You like him?" You nudge her shoulder with yours in return. "A man like that.. can fuck my brains out!" She exclaims.

You quickly slap her thigh in response, getting a groan from her. "Fuck you do that for?!?" "My parents are home! You mumble. In shock, she covered her mouth with her hand. A few seconds later, you hear a ring from the front door.

You open your door to your whole friend group, the 5 of you in total. You greet them all in and spend a couple minutes inside before heading to the car altogether, carpooling.

"Hurry up!" One of your friends yell at the other one. Your eyes avert to what Ashley was talking about earlier, you see a big U-haul truck with multiple men pulling out furniture.

None seemed to be the man your friend described until you see a man from the huge window pane talking and motioning his hands where to place the furniture. Seems like your friend wasn't exaggerating at all. He wore a black button up shirt, some buttons loosened on top. Adjourned with some dark grey work pants that fit between some-what tight and loose.

What really caught your eyes were his glasses, sitting perfectly on his nose bridge. As he looked around his surroundings, he caught your gaze and gave a small grin. You snap out of it and return back to reality and enter the backseat, engine starting and loud booming music playing.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ~

You sit down with your legs crossed over the other, waiting for the waiters to take the group's orders. You rest your chin on your palm, sighing. One of your friends seem to notice.

She touches your shoulder, "Something up?" She asks. You nod your head, resting it on her shoulder. "Yeah... my parents told me I have to start paying rent to stay at the house." You let out another breathy sigh. "I mean I don't even know how I'm going to manage when I'm focusing on paying back my student debt from last year and with my one job not being enough.." You muttered softly.

Your other friends eavesdrop and reassure that it'll be fine and to not pressure yourself into becoming a total workaholic. you let out a small laugh and the waiter finally heads towards your table.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ~

The next morning you wake up with a bad hangover, only remembering your friends' went to a club and its a blur after that.

You get up and change your bed sheets and take a relaxing shower. As your in your bed with your laptop working on your AP classes, your mom barged in.

"Get your ass up and do something! I'll be making you pay rent by the end of the month!" She raised her tone at you, annoying your peace.

"Mom, I'm already busy with paying my student debt from last year with my on-going job right now!" You exclaim back. "I've applied to other places for a job, they keep rejecting me." Your mom gave you nothing but a scoff and a cold glare. "Are you positive you've looked everywhere for a job nearby?!" She stepped into your room further.

You nod your head, annoyed how she always had an attitude with you.

"Well it looks like you didn't look close enough, the new neighbor across the street is looking for a babysitter." She said while touching your posters, eyeing the window.

"How do you know?" You asked. "He posted an obvious sign outside his front yard 3 days ago." Your mom sighed. "Look.. just give that one a try or move somewhere else with your friends." She's finally out of your bubble.

You groan and place your head on your laptop as you closed it. You slip into your shoes and head downstairs and walk across the street. "Seriously, what a nagging bitch.." You mumble under your breath and ring the doorbell.

The door opens sooner than you expected, facing a tall figure towering over you. It's him.

"May I help you, Ms?" He raised his eyebrow, expecting a response from you.

Finally being infront of him hit you like a stone brick, your vocal chords thrown out the window. You clear your throat. "Good morning, I don't mean to be a bother to you but I heard you're wanting a babysitter..?"

"Oh yeah, that reminds me..are you available later in the afternoon? If not, tomorrow if you're not." He gave off a small smile. "For afternoon, yes but if you don't mind me asking what for?"

"Oh sorry," he places one of his hands on his hip, other on the back of his neck. "For an interview, just want to do a small background check, that okay with you?" He tilts his head to the slide, letting a subtle smile stretch across his lips.

You nod and shake his head, heading back home.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ~

You walk up to his door to knock and check your phone. 4:05 p.m. You avert your eyes at him as he opens the door, smiling and greeting you inside. Miguel remains standing while you take a seat. He looks at you, studying your face, your movements, and the way you sit down. Once you make yourself comfortable, he sighs, looking away.

"Can I take a look at that?" He asked and you slide the folder file his way. He nods a couple times as he flips through the papers and starts typing on his computer.

"Do you have any experience with taking care of babies?"

He asks quietly.

"Yeah, I always babysat when I was in highschool."

He nods, seeming satisfied with the answer you gave. Miguel was quiet for a few moments, his mind going over a few things. He eventually speaks, and when he does, his voice sounds almost like a whisper.

"Could I trust you with taking care of my daughter then? With her safety and everything?"

He was quiet again.

"She's... very precious to me. I don't want her to get hurt."

"Yes of course! I would gladly take great care of her for you sir." You responded politely.

"Very well then."

He remains silent, looking at you for a moment longer, thinking about what to say next. The man then nods and starts talking again.

"She's five, and her name is Gabriella. She's a little angel... and she's mine."

Miguel took a breath and sighed, rubbing his face.

"She'll be home in a couple hours; I'll be gone..she's at her mother's house right now. I was planning on telling her that she'll have a babysitter, so she'll be excited."

He starts walking but then stops again. He then looks at you again and nods, as if he was thinking of something.

"Oh, I just need to set some rules and expectations for you to stick by, if you don't mind."

Miguel waits for you to acknowledge his words.

Your face turns a soft red, "Sorry, I was just spacing out but yeah of course." You smile back.

Miguel chuckles when you say you space out, and nods to acknowledge your answer.

"That's completely fine."

"First rule; you're responsible for her safety while I'm gone. No strangers can come in and stay, no party, etc." He seems to be thinking of more rules to add, taking a moment.

"Second; be nice to her. She's young and is easily scared or sad. So be kind."

He nods as if he finished, but then goes silent again.

"Third; no boys allowed without my permission. It's a rule for everyone, honestly." You continuously agree to his terms.

Miguel nods, still looking at you. His eyes seem to take a quick glance down at your clothes, studying you once again. He seemed to stare at your body as his gaze moved across your clothes; he didn't care that he was staring at you.

"I think that's it. Any questions?" "Nope!"

"Very well." Miguel nods, as if he was satisfied with the answer you gave.

"Then you will begin your babysitting job tonight when Gabi is here..." He pulls his cell phone and looks at the time on the screen before looking back at you.

"...in 2-3 hours. She'll be excited to see you, so make sure to make her smile." Miguel smiles at you and nods once again.

Miguel's eyes go back to your body, his gaze slowly moving across your curves from top to bottom. He then looks away.

"You will also find two numbers on the fridge; mine and the number for our family doctor. They are for emergencies."

Miguel then crosses his arms.

"That's all I have to say. Gabriella will be here in two hours. She'll knock three times before entering, okay?"

"Got that," you noted mentally.

Miguel nods one more time. "Alright, I'll be gone then. Don't worry, Gabriella is very easy to take care of."

He smiles and starts walking to the front door again. Before leaving, he waits to see if you had anything to add.

"See you tomorrow then Ms." You shoot a smile at him and head to the door first, which unexpectedly you stumble over a Barbie doll car. You stop from tripping onto your knees as you feel calloused hands brush over your waist, slightly gripping onto your skin. His hands around your waist made you shiver, the small skin to skin contact emitting some heat to your core.

You regain your posture quickly, embarrassed of yourself. "I'm sorry.." You blurt out. "Its fine really, Gabi tends to leave a trail of her toys around the house", he laughs lightly. "Ah okay...see you tomorrow then Mr.." You wait for his response. "Mr. O'Hara is fine." He says before shutting the door.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

a/n: srry its pretty long, you guys can tell me down in the comments if you want a part 2 or if you'd like this to be a slow burn but somewhat fast? leave any tips!! ty :3

EDIT: PART 2

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ posts #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #smut #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 smut #atsv x reader #miguel smut atsv #atsv miguel #miguel atsv #atsv

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heli-writes · 6 months ago

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A dragon's heart, part 14.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: mentions of injuries, mentions of rape and abuse, marking, trauma symptoms, trust issues

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Note: Y'all I'm back from the beach all crispy and tanned. Finally found some time and inspiration to continue this.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The first day, y/n didn't leave the tent because of spite (and the immense pain that radiated off the wound in pulsating waves). The second day, she didn't leave the bed cause she felt as if she'd faint if she tried to get up. By the third day, y/n developed a fever that made it impossible for her to move at all.

Katsuki watches over her with a worried gaze. He's in and out of their shared tent trying to balance his business and his mate. He orders the healers to have a close look at her. When the head healer comes to speak with him while he’s fulfilling his duty, he knows that something is wrong.

“The infection spread. She’s having a high fever. I’ve already sent some of our men to look for fresh herbs to make a fever-reducing medicine, but that can only help so much. We will be giving her cool calf compresses throughout the night. You might want to stay with her tonight.”, the healer explains.

Katsuki feels as if his heart stopped for a millisecond. He only gives the healer a short nod. It might seem cold and emotionless towards others, but the truth is that Katsuki doesn’t trust his voice.

After that, he adjourns the meeting with his men and returns to y/n’s bedside. Some healers are busily swirling around the small tent, soaking cloths in cold water and pulling them around y/n’s legs.

Katsuki delicately holds y/n’s hand as if her hand would turn to dust like a dried flower when you crunch it too hard. He stares at her chest which heavily goes up and down. Despite her obvious troubled breathing, y/n barely lets out a sound. He’d take her yelling at him over this eery silence any day.

“Bakugou.”, a voice rips him out of his thoughts. Kirishima stands at the entrance of the tent. When Katsuki gives him a sign, Kirishima carefully enters his leader’s private quarter.

“How is she?”, Kirishima asks carefully standing behind him. Katsuki doesn’t turn around to meet his eye.

“The fever’s bad but the healers are working on it.”, he tells him.

Kirishima stays silent. Katsuki does not need to explain y/n’s condition further. Fevers are tricky things. They come in slowly and when they hit, they’re hard to get under control. Katsuki’s own father perished due to the same infection that took out most of his tribe’s women. He understands better than anyone just how quickly a simple infection can take someone’s life.

“She will pull through.”, Kirishima encourages him. Katsuki’s lips form a firm line. When Katsuki doesn’t answer, he adds: “That one is a strong one. She’s a fighter”.

“So was my father. So were many of our women.”, Katsuki tells him.

“This is not the same, you know that. They were sick and y/n has only an infected wound.”, Kirishima points out.

“And how many warriors have we lost because of that?”, Katsuki presses. Kirishima stays silent. He wishes his leader would be less of a realist sometimes. It’d be easier to cheer him up in dark moments.

The entrance of the tent is moved once again and Mitsuki enters. She gives the healers and Kirishima a sign to leave her alone with her son.

“Have you come to gloat, mother?”, Katsuki bites venomously. Mitsuki gives him a long, unidentifiable look.

“I do not wish this upon you or… her.”, Mitsuki says. Katsuki doesn’t look at his mother either. Instead, he observes how y/n’s eyelashes cast a slim shadow onto her undereyes.

Mitsuki sighs deeply and sits down next to him.

“Son… I know how you feel. Remember, I’ve lost your father the same way.”, she reminds him. When Katsuki doesn’t answer her, she continues.

“Maybe it was inevitable. We’ve lost other women before her. These women you bring in are not suited for life in the mountains. They’re often too weak to survive the harsh winters out here. It’s not their fault their bodies are weak. They do not carry the same hot blood as we do. The blood that also makes our wounds heal faster.”, Mitsuki tells him.

“Others survived the mating. So will she.”, Katsuki says determinedly. It’s something he’s not sure of, something he didn’t even believe only seconds ago when Kirishima pointed out the same thing. Maybe he's just saying it to defy his mother. He’s aware of how fragile y/n is compared to women of his tribe. It’s why he fears the worst.

Mitsuki looks at her son for a long time before putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Son, I know this is not what you wished for, but maybe it’s for the best.”, she tells him. Harshly Katsuki yanks his shoulder back and shoves her hand away.

“That my mate dies days after she became mine? How is that for the best?”, Katsuki whisper-yells. The healers must still be outside the tent.

Mitsuki pulls back her arm. “She’s not suited for this life, to be a strong leader by your side. It’s best that it happens so early before you’re too attached to her.”, Mitsuki says compassionately and it just makes Katsuki just more angry.

“If she dies, I will not take another mate. As it is custom.”, Katsuki harshly points out.

“In our situation, no one would question you breaking traditions.”, Mitsuki replies.

“I don’t care.”, Katsuki barks and grips y/n’s hand tighter. There’s no one else for him besides her. He made his choice, he knew the implications.

Mitsuki sighs and gets up. “We’ll see.”, she only says calmly and turns around to exit the tent leaving Katsuki alone sitting at y/n’s side.

~*~*~*~

Everything lies in a hazy fog. Y/n is sure she can make out Katsuki's face in her distorted vision. Something hot runs through her stomach. Is it anger? She can't remember what she should be angry about. Then maybe, she's wrong. Her vision fades and Katsuki's face becomes blurred. Maybe it was never Katsuki to begin with?

„Brother!“, y/n calls out through the mist.

Is he here? Has he come to take her home? Back to mother and father and their little wagon in the woods?

Soft voices reach her ears. The strum of a guitar is somewhere far away alongside a soft voice. A familiar melody comes forward in her consciousness. Her tongue feels heavy as she tries to sing alongside her mother's lullaby.

Someone strokes over her hot, wet forehead.

„It's alright little one. Rest now.“, her father's voice says close to her ear. Relief floods her anxious thoughts and y/n relaxes. I'm safe, y/n thinks.

„Don't worry, my love.“, her mother says from her other side, „It's just a cold. You've played too long in the snow with your brother.“

Right, of course. Y/n remembers. It snowed in the night and y/b/n and her snuck out of the tent before their parents woke up. They built a snowman and made snow angels. When her mother saw the two of them barefoot in the snow, she shooed them back inside and made them sit by the fire with a blanket and a hot cup of tea. Y/n fell asleep on her brother's shoulder.

Y/n leans into the hand that strokes her forehead.

„Brother, stay with me.“, she begs but she isn't sure if she only says it in her head. Dirty blonde hair shuffles through her hazy vision. Someone holds her hand. Y/n lets out a shaky breath.

It's alright. Y/b/n is here. You're safe., she thinks as she fades into a dream of snow-capped forests, frozen lakes and her brother's laugh in the distance.

~*~*~*~

Kirishima watches his leader with worried eyes. Y/n has been drifting in and out of consciousness all night. The moments that she's been awake a dull haze covered her eyes. She's been trying to speak but the words hardly leave her throat.

The hazier her gaze gets, the glossier Katsuki's gaze becomes.

Kirishima places a hand on his friend's shoulders. There's not much they can do right now. The healers are still changing the calf compresses every ten minutes or so, trying to cool down her body as much as possible. Behind Katsuki's back, the head healer told him that y/n either makes it through the night and will live or not. Kirishima didn't have the heart to tell his friend, but he's sure Katsuki knows without anybody telling him.

Y/n lets out a shaky breath and tears shimmer in her eyes. She calls out a name. She's been repeating the name for some time now. Katsuki just holds her hand a bit tighter.

„I think it's her brother.“, Kirishima tries to calm his friend, „I don't know much of her language but I think she's been saying the word for brother earlier“.

„I didn't even know she had a brother“, Katsuki says quietly.

„Maybe he isn't with her anymore. When the veil between the living and the dead is thin for a person, they often call out to those that went before them.“, Kirishima offers and almost instantly regrets bringing up death in front of his friend.

„Or maybe I ripped her away from him and now she has to die alone surrounded by strangers.“, Katsuki flatly points out.

For a moment, Kirishima doesn't know what to say. Of course, that's a possibility too. But until now that has never mattered when they took women. The survival of their tribe always came first for Katsuki. He didn't think much about the women's families. Kirishima was never sure whether Katsuki was so cold that he didn't care or if Katsuki didn't allow himself to care about it because it was expected from the leader of the tribe.

„Promise her to find him.“, Kirishima says without thinking. Katsuki turns his head back to him.

„What?“, he asks and Kirishima only nods. He doesn't offer his leader an explanation. Katsuki turns his head back to y/n and stares at her struggling form for a while before ordering Kirishima to leave them. Wordlessly, Kirishima leaves the tent.

Katsuki takes a long look at y/n before taking her hunting knife that she always keeps close. Carefully, he cuts a fine line into the inside of his hand. He watches the blood pushing through the cut. He takes a long look at y/n's face before pressing his bloody hand to her heart.

„If you survive tonight, I, Katsuki Bakugou, son of Masaru and Mitsuki Bakugou, promise to find y/b/n and to let you go with him if you so please.“

~*~*~*~

There's the faint sound of metal hitting against each other and men clamoring in the distance but the tent lies in absolute silence. Y/n struggles to regain her vision for a couple of moments. She's feeling groggy and terrible. For a split second, she believes she's in her parent's tent.

Then, she remembers where she is. This is Katsuki's tent. Her head throbs from the lack of water. Her hand flies to her forehead and she puts it over her eyes in an attempt to milder the hammering feeling in her head.

She's been sick. She remembers waking up multiple times. She remembers waking up to unknown men pouring a thick, bitter fluid down her throat and a cool piece of cloth placed onto her head. She remembers waking up to Katsuki leaning over her watching her with furrowed, worried eyes. She remembers her brother's face in her periphery. Y/n wonders how much time has passed since Katsuki cleaned her wound. And for a very short moment, she wonders if her brother actually found her.

Quickly, she discards the idea. It was probably a fever dream. Something her imagination came up with in an attempt to calm her struggling body and mind. Y/n feels hot tears burning behind her eyes at the thought making her head feel worse.

Her hand flies to her throat where the wound is still wrapped in a tight bandage. She realizes that her head feels worse than the wound. Actually, she barely feels the wound at all. She wonders if it healed or if everything else just feels worse.

Groaning, y/n tries to sit up. I need water, she thinks. When she moves, there's a twitch of a body at her side. Only then she notices Katsuki who lies next to her face down. He's clutching her other hand. Katsuki groans and turns over letting go of her hand. Quickly, y/n pulls it away from him.

Katsuki stretches and turns his head to her.

When he notices that y/n is awake, he jerks up. His head spins for a moment from getting up too quickly. Immediately he sits up and pulls y/n close. He hides his face in her hair. Y/n let it happen and suddenly her heart feels heavy with grief. Grief, that her brother isn't here, that she's still stuck here, and that Katsuki hurt her when she was ready to trust him all the way.

It's impossible to hold back tears anymore and they stream down her cheeks and onto Katsuki's arm as he holds her. She wants to push him away but at the same time, she longs for the warmth and comfort Katsuki offers her right now. She wants to be held, wants him to pet her hair and tell her everything will be alright. And most importantly, she wants to believe him.

When y/n looks up, Katsuki is watching her with sorrowful eyes. Carefully, he wipes some tears away and his gaze falls onto the bandage on her throat. Softly, he traces the wound beneath the bandage and then carefully leans closer. Y/n's breath hitches a bit but she's too weak to pull back. Softly, Katsuki presses a kiss onto the bandage right where he hurt her not too long ago.

Katsuki's hair tickes her chin and y/n stares at the wall of the tent behind him. Katsuki's hand softly traces patterns onto her arm as he continues to hide his face at her throat. He's so soft right now that y/n wonders what possessed him to hurt her in the first place.

When Katsuki notices that y/n doesn't struggle against him, he pulls back and looks at her. Y/n holds his gaze. There's no fire or anger behind her eyes. Just exhaustion. Slowly, he leans forward, presses a kiss to her forehead and pulls her close. Y/n can't help but lean into his touch. She's been feeling so alone. How can she refuse Katsuki's touch right now? She's too worn out physically and emotionally to fight him or the burning want in her stomach to be comforted by him.

Katsuki puts his hand into her hair and pulls his face closer to his. Y/n continues to hold his gaze. She can see worry, sadness and regret shimmering behind them. Maybe also something like relief. His nose grazes hers and she can feel his breath on her lips.

Katsuki is desperate to kiss her right now but he doesn't move forward. He's not sure if he's still allowed to touch her like that.

Y/n wants to be angry with him like she was before the fever took hold of her. She wants to yell and scream at him. At the same time, she wishes for nothing more than for him to close the gap between them and kiss her. But she's too exhausted to do anything other than lay still in his arms.

She wonders if she’s going mad. If she’s suffering some mental illness that makes her love a man who hurt her, wonders if maybe she’s always been mad like this which led to all her bad decisions. Or if the death of her parents and the loss of her people made her mad like that.

Y/n is ripped out of her thoughts when Katsuki’s lips softly graze hers. It's that moment that she decides that she doesn’t care and that it doesn’t matter.

I dug my own grave, now I have to lay in it.

Before Katsuki can realize what is happening, she closes the gap between them and kisses Katsuki deeply.

For a moment, Katsuki is frozen. He struggles to understand y/n's ever-changing emotions and actions. Only a couple of days ago she looked at him as if she wanted to murder him. He decides that he doesn't care and that it doesn't matter. Not after almost losing her.

He pulls her closer so that her entire body is pressed against him. He reciprocates the kiss and kisses her as deeply as he can. He tries to pour all the words that she doesn't understand into this one kiss.

They kiss until they can't breathe anymore and they need to pull apart. Katsuki softly pushes a greasy strand of hair out of her face, but it's stuck to her sweaty forehead. He offers her a small smile because he's not sure if this means she has forgiven him.

When y/n sighs and leans against his forehead, relief finally floods through his body.

My mate didn't reject me.

He pulls her into his arms and engulfs her with his much larger frame. Y/n leans into him and Katsuki pulls the blanket over them. They can stay here for a little while longer. At least until one of the healers comes in with another portion of this god-awful syrup.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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[Please comment beneath the last update if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

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fishbonex · 2 months ago

Text

Sharp thoughts 2/2

Mel Medarda x fem!reader

Summary: Things are starting to turn around again.

Word Count: 0,8K

Warning: insecurities

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

When you realized the way you had spoken to Mel the day before, you wanted to disappear.

What were you thinking? How did you think it was appropriate to talk to a Counselor like that?

Burying your face in your hands, you sighed audibly. Maybe you should start packing your things.

Entering the lab was like committing a crime, walking through the halls was like being wanted. Well, it was all in your head, you knew, in a way. But nothing could stop it from becoming reality.

Losing your privileges and sponsorships, being expelled from your lab and being forgotten were things that could happen if you displeased one of the Council members.

With a dramatic groan, you leaned your head back against the workbench. The richest person in Piltover? You weren't thinking that at all.

At least you were lucky enough not to run into her in the days that followed, which gave you time to think about what to do.

But luck wasn't so great, it seems, because Heimerdinger requested a Council meeting with some of the scientists who occupied the main building. And of course you were among them.

Wearing your formal clothes was still stifling, even after all the time you had been in your profession. Walking and standing in front of the gigantic table with the most important people in the city was even worse.

And there she was. Sitting in all her glory. Her elegant, smooth demeanor was the same, but you didn’t miss the way her expression fell slightly when she laid her eyes on you.

You looked away and swallowed hard, waiting for your turn to speak, which didn't take long because Heimerdinger preferred to interrupt your colleagues whenever he got too excited about their projects.

"Oh yes, you! Come, come closer." he called in his usual cheerful tone of voice. "How are you, dear?"

"I'm very well, professor, thank you-"

"Well, that's great! I've read your latest study, a wonderful thing, I must say." he said, looking around the table, receiving a few nods of approval from the other members. "I hope to be able to read the next one soon, bring it to me as soon as you're done, yes?"

You automatically looked at Mel, since she was the one you took your studies to, she seemed uncomfortable, but remained silent.

"Yes, Professor, of course." you replied politely, clasping your hands in front of you.

"And your engineering projects? I heard from one of your colleagues that you joined him in continuing a magnificent project for the new building—" his cheerful voice was interrupted.

"What engineering projects? I haven't been informed of anything." Mel's voice sounded slightly irritated, different from her usual soft tone.

You turned your head towards her and looked at Heimerdinger again, he gave an encouraging nod and you began to explain yourself.

"It's one of my areas of expertise, which I'm starting to pursue. It's not my project, actually, I'm just going to make a contribution." your voice sounded timid.

"You didn't know? I thought you were her sponsor, Councilor." Jayce's voice came through and only then did you realize he was there.

"I am. One of the sponsors, actually. I demand that your projects be brought to me, it is my responsibility to bring them to the Council." she said it firmly, alternating her eyes between you and Heimerdinger, who just nodded resignedly.

Mel had never spoken to you like that. Giving orders like you were a clueless maid.

"Well." Heimerdinger cleared his throat. "This meeting is adjourned."

You didn't wait for any further orders, turning on your heel and walking quickly back to your lab, letting out a tired sigh as you closed the door behind you.

"Didn't you ever think to tell me you were involved in engineering?" Mel's melodious voice rang out the moment you entered her office in the Council building.

"You never asked me, counselor." you replied, trying to sound polite.

"Won't you stop this?" she raised her voice in annoyance, her pretty face twisting into an angry expression. "Please, we're adults."

You swallowed and nodded, "You're right. I feel really bad... about the way I spoke to you earlier. I shouldn't meddle in your personal relationships."

"You're a personal relationship of mine." she raised an eyebrow. "Don't apologize, I would have been the same way if I witnessed someone having... sexual intercourse."

You felt the back of your neck heat up and sighed, "You were in your house anyway. I'm the one who broke in."

"You didn't broke in, I made it clear that you could come in whenever you wanted. That remains the same." she walked around the table, the clicks of her heels becoming present. "I must also apologize for the way I conducted myself at the Council."

"There's no need-"

"Jayce is a good man, but my relationship with him is... carnal. And business-related." she took a few steps closer. "If that's what's keeping you from me."

"Counselor, I don't-"

"Don't tell me no. You don't want me anymore?" she reached out to pull your hands toward her.

"No one in their right mind would give up on you." you blurted out and widened your eyes slightly afterwards, earning a giggle from Mel.

"Well, that's great then." she hooked her arms around your neck and leaned her face down to you, pressing her delicate lips against yours.

#writing #writers on tumblr #arcane fanfic #arcane #arcane fandom #mel medarda x reader #mel x reader #mel medarda #mel arcane #wlw #wlw fanfic

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jjkamochoso · 10 months ago

Text

Braids and Mochi Escapades

Fluff

Obanai x female reader

Mitsuri braids reader’s hair, Obanai can’t handle the cuteness!

Warnings: none

Being a hashira, your life involved seeing lots of blood, guts, and other horrible things. It didn’t consist of much light and happiness but that all changed one day when you seized the opportunity to work with another hashira and your whole perspective on life changed. You had never had so much fun than when you and Mitsuri slayed demons together. She was a formidable opponent and even taught you many skills you now utilized in your own missions. Not to mention, she was kind, funny, and naturally, very loving. These were traits you had embodied before your life darkened because of demons but Mitsuri showed you that you could still embrace and seek out good times even when all else seems hopeless. That’s how you found yourself having a sleepover with the Love Hashira after your semi annual hashira meeting was adjourned. The hashiras were all granted a few days’ rest before accepting any more missions so when Mitsuri invited you over for a girl’s night, you couldn’t say no (Shinobu did, though—she was always busy with some sort of research). You ordered as much sakura mochi the kitchen could begrudgingly make for you guys and made your way to Mitsuri’s room to hang out while the food was being prepared. You didn’t have the chance to announce yourself before her screen opened and the excitable girl wrapped you in a hug.

“Y/N! I’ve been looking forward to this all day! Come in, come in!”

She dragged you inside and you let out a sigh of relief when her strong grip finally released you. Putting down your futon and extra blankets, you felt your stomach flutter with happiness. You hadn’t had a sleepover since you were very young and were relishing the fact you could have a normal few days without the stressors of being a hashira.

“I ordered us sakura mochi from the kitchens, I hope that’s alright,” you said, a bit shy. You knew it was her favorite but you didn’t want to come off as overbearing. Your worries were instantly quelled by the huge smile that graced her face as she pulled you in for another hug, thank you’s flowing out of her mouth nonstop. You giggled, already feeling content at how the night was going and you hadn’t been there for over a minute.

“So, is there anything in particular you want to do while we wait? I’m not well versed on sleepover activities yet, I apologize,” you said sheepishly.

Mitsuri just gave you a kind smile. “Don’t apologize! Tonight’s going to be so much fun! Ooh! I know! I can braid your hair!”

You instantly lit up. You were always envious of how pretty Mitsuri’s hair was and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t tried her signature hairstyle on yourself many times. However, you could never make it look as cute as she does so you were ecstatic that she would bestow her skills upon your head. She brought over a box of ribbons, all different colors of the rainbow, to tie at the ends of your hair as you released the pulled back style you had kept your strands in. When Mitsuri sat behind you and began to gently detangle your hair, you felt a wave of relaxation run through you. It felt nice to have someone so eager to take care of you for a change. You two basked in the comfortable silence until the talkative girl spoke up.

“So, y/n, do you have a crush on anyone?”

Your eyes that were previously closed opened up in a flash. Of course she would ask that, she’s the Love Hashira! But you were embarrassed that you had allowed yourself to succumb to such a weakness like love. Not even love, just unrequited affection toward a man that barely acknowledged you. It was humiliating to let her know of the truth of your heart but you couldn’t find it within yourself to lie to her.

“Unfortunately, yes, I do. He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever had the chance to lay eyes on but we’ve only spoken once out of all the years we’ve known each other. I watch him from afar but refuse to speak to him first out of fear. It’s shameful, I know.”

You were glad she couldn’t see your face as you spoke because you weren’t used to being this vulnerable. You were pleasantly surprised when she kept braiding, not skipping a beat.

“Oh, y/n, that’s so romantic! Pining and yearning are just two pillars of the many that make up love. It’s not shameful. Love is a complicated thing, especially for us, but if you face fear head on you’ll find that most things aren’t as scary as you think they might be. If you like him, he must have a good heart. Don’t be afraid to strike up conversation. He’ll come around eventually.”

You didn’t know how she did it but you instantly felt better. “You’re right, Mitsuri. Thank you.”

A few seconds passed.

“May I know who it is that’s captured your heart?”

You grimaced, knowing this would happen. “Um, I’m not sure I-”

“It’s probably Tengen, isn’t it? He’s so dreamy! If you’re into guys like that. Wait, you two have spoken many times so that doesn’t fit your description. Ugh, it isn’t Giyuu, is it?”

You tried your best not to laugh. Poor Giyuu, you didn’t know why no one liked him but even though you held a soft spot in your heart for him, it was the wrong man.

“No. Different raven haired man.”

She went quiet for a moment before gasping. “Obanai?”

You shook your head slightly in affirmation and she let out a high pitched squeal, inadvertently yanking on your finished braid in excitement. “Oh my gosh! You like Obanai? That’s so cute! You HAVE to talk to him, he’s such a sweetie!”

You grabbed onto your tender scalp in an attempt to soothe it after she almost ripped out all of your strands. “Now that the whole compound knows of my feelings,” you muttered, “I think my confidence to face him is completely shattered.”

Mitsuri gave you a pouty face. “No, don’t say that! You’re a beautiful girl and any man would be lucky to have you. He’s shy, you’re shy, it’s a tough combination but if you’ll allow me, I can tell him of your affections to see where it goes.”

“Oh, that’s alright, no need. If it’s meant to be, it will be. But thank you. And thank you for this gorgeous hair! Maybe this will give me the confidence boost I need to approach Obanai.” You gave the pink and green haired girl a hug and then inspected her work in a mirror. She had tied your (h/c) hair with ribbons, but they were mismatched colors. You were going to ask if she did that on accident before the realization of what the colors reminded you of set in. She had used one yellow ribbon and one turquoise ribbon, perfectly coordinating with Obanai’s eyes. Your mouth hung open in shock as Mitsuri giggled at your reaction.

“I hope you don’t mind! I was originally going to use just turquoise but when you mentioned your feelings for Obanai I thought this might be a way for you to feel closer to him. And it’s a great conversation starter.”

You gave her another huge hug, amazed at and grateful for her quick thinking. “Now that you’ve got me looking this good, we’re ready to get our food!”

Mitsuri clapped her hands in excitement and grabbed your arm as you two raced out the door of her room and into the warm summer night. The hot, sticky air permeated through your haori and left a slight sheen of sweat on your skin. You took a second to appreciate the quiet stillness of the compound, the smell of wisteria giving you comfort. You knew it was impossible for demons to be around, so why did it still feel like someone was watching you intently in secret? You shook it off, thinking you just weren't allowing yourself to let your guard down.

You laughed a little, turning to Mitsuri. "I'm not used to this relaxation time-"

She was gone. You would've been majorly freaked out if you hadn't spotted her entering a building beyond where you stood. Maybe her appetite turned ravenous and couldn't wait another second for food so she ran to the kitchen? You were confused and ready to catch up with her but your attention was turned to the rustling noise from above you. You stood under a wisteria tree and hanging over your braided head was a snake. Its white body slithered through the branches, staring at you and occasionally sticking its tongue out. You weren't familiar with snake behaviors but this one seemed friendly enough so you cautiously reached your hand toward it in an attempt to pet it. It didn't bite you when your fingers touched its smooth head so you took that as a good sign. You were extremely surprised, though, when it fell out of the branches, instead opting to rest on your shoulders. You tried to calm your breathing and before you could get too freaked out at your predicament, you almost facepalmed in realization that there was nothing to worry about. It was Kaburamaru, Obanai's snake friend, that had found his way to you. You were both looking at each other with curious eyes and you gave him a smile, trying to guess at what he was thinking.

"Mitsuri did my hair, Kaburamaru! That's why I look different. Though you probably recognized me by my scent from the other meetings you've attended, hmm?"

Being a snake, he obviously didn't answer you, but he did seem like he understood what you were saying, so you kept talking. "Are you hungry? We could try and find some frogs at the pond if you'd like."

He lifted his head and you could've sworn he shook it in disagreement.

"Alright then. Should we go find Obanai? It's a little late for you to be out here all by yourself."

"He's not by himself."

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard Obanai's voice from above you. You looked up and saw the bandaged face of your crush peering at you from some higher up branches, nearly in the same position you had found Kaburamaru.

"O-Obanai! I apologize for not greeting you. I hadn't noticed your presence." You bowed and hoped he would forgive you. He climbed out of the tree and landed at your feet, black hair moving effortlessly around him. Your mouth went dry and any words that could've been said had died in your throat the moment your eyes met his. He was even more beautiful at ground level when you could observe him up close. His eyes glistened in the full moon's light that blessed the Master's compound. The man of short stature had such a strong, powerful aura about him that almost made you dizzy, yet was so intoxicating that it drew you in. Neither of you shared any words for the next minute or so, unsure of what to say.

"Your hair's... different," muttered Obanai, taking in your appearance and then suddenly looking away.

"Mitsuri did it for me! I was telling Kaburamaru all about it. He seemed to notice as well," you said, the warmth of embarrassment creeping on your face as you registered that what you said suggested that you were conversing with a snake. If Obanai didn't think you were a weirdo before, he definitely did now.

"He's very perceptible," Obanai agreed, making you feel at ease about your previous panic. You two found yourselves in another awkward silence and you prayed to any god that would listen that Mitsuri would come back with your food soon.

"So what brings you out here this time of night?" you asked.

He cocked an eyebrow. "I thought you despised small talk."

Your eyes opened the tiniest bit wider. How had he known that? You barely interacted with him in all the years you had worked together yet he was aware of that little fact about you. Had he been noticing you all this time and you were too ignorant to see it?

"I do." You took in a breath. Time to be brave, y/n. "I just... wanted to talk to you. About anything. Get to know you better." Now it was your turn to look away as you cringed at how that sounded. You wished you had gone to Tengen for flirting lessons before ever coming in contact with Obanai.

"Why?"

Your head turned back to face him again as you answered with a shrug. "Because you're interesting." And because you're ridiculously handsome and I'm hopelessly in love with you!

His eyes narrowed. "Interesting enough to mock me with your hair bows?" He pointed accusingly to your hair, the ends of your mismatched ribbons adorning Kaburamaru as he continuously slid over your body.

"What? No, you have the wrong idea! I swear, I'm not mocking you, I-" You didn't know how to respond and your time was running out before Obanai hated your guts. You resigned to telling him the truth; you'd rather be hated for that than for something that was blatantly false. "I told Mitsuri I found you handsome but was too shy to speak to you so she thought matching the ribbons to your eyes would be a way for me to feel closer to you." He had an unreadable look on his face and you wished you could melt into a puddle on the ground and evaporate away from this conversation. You reached your hands to your hair and began to undo the ribbons. "It was a bad idea, I'm sorry for-"

"N-no! Don't!" Obanai's hands shot out so fast you never saw them coming. He grasped your fingers, stopping them from their job of removing the ribbon. When you felt his cool skin on yours, goosebumps made their way across your entire being. "They look pretty. Y-you look... pretty." Was it a trick of the light or was Obanai... blushing? You couldn't believe your ears. Did he just call you pretty? You thought your night was going to be amazing just being at a sleepover with your friend and now your crush was practically holding your hand and calling you pretty. Obanai was about to remove his hand from yours when Kaburamaru quickly wrapped himself around your conjoined appendages, not allowing either of you to let go. The Serpent Hashira was left in a state of blushing and stuttering apologies for his friend's indecencies and you were certain the snake was laughing at you both.

As if summoned by pounding heartbeats and gauche attempts at confessing feelings, Mitsuri finally appeared, copious amounts of sakura mochi toppling out of the bags she held.

"Oh my gosh, you two are SO cute together! Did y/n finally tell you that she likes you?" She asked Obanai, mochi flying out of her mouth as she took another bite. As he was always someone who had a snarky comeback or venomous reply, you had never seen him unable to produce words like at this moment when he was floundering for the right thing to say.

"I, well... she, umm... What's it to you anyway?" He finally spit out, but Mitsuri just laughed.

"I'm the LOVE Hashira, silly, I'm the expert at this stuff. Although, I must admit, Kaburamaru did most of my heavy lifting, didn't you?" She beamed at him as he finally released you and Obanai from each other to receive a big helping of raw meat from the pink and green haired girl. You stared at her incredulously.

"You're telling me that you worked together with a snake to set us up?"

"Kaburamaru found me earlier today and brought me to Shinazugawa who told me that he was tired of Obanai dancing around his feelings for you, y/n. He also mentioned that Obanai was probably talking about you nonstop to his closest friend, Kaburamaru, and that he was also done with the inaction. So, we devised a plan and now here we are. Isn't that adorable?"

"I told you he was perceptive," said Obanai, clearly embarrassed, but you found the whole thing to be strangely sweet. You decided it was time to get back to your sleepover where you and Mitsuri could fangirl over this moment for the rest of the night so you bid Obanai and his snake farewell. Before you could turn away to leave, Obanai got your attention one last time.

"I hope that one day I'll be strong and worthy enough to speak of my truest, deepest feelings for you myself, but until then," he reached up to pick a small bunch of wisteria off the tree and tucked it behind your ear, "please accept this gift and the meaning I've imposed on it."

You smiled shyly. "Thank you Obanai. I hope our paths continue to cross in the future." As you made your way back into Mitsuri's room, Obanai watched you until you closed the screen door behind you and for a little while after that. He couldn't promise to love you in a conventional way, but he swore from that day on, he would keep you as safe as possible in this unpredictable world you lived in.

BONUS:

On the day of the hashira's departure from the safety of Ubuyashiki's lands, you felt your heart sink at the remembrance of the danger you and Obanai had to go back out and face. However, your aching chest was abated by the raven haired man that entered your view, timidly thrusting a lump of something into your palms. You quickly unraveled the folded fabric and you were greeted with two knee high socks with the same black and white striped pattern as Obanai's haori.

"Obanai, that's so thoughtful of you! I'll treasure these forever."

"You don't need to treasure them, they're just socks," he grumbled, not meeting your eyes.

You giggled. "But they're from you. How could I not want to keep something so precious in good condition?"

"If they rip, I'll buy you more. So don't worry about it."

"Thank you so much for the kind gift." Your gaze softened at him as you frowned the tiniest bit. "I'm sorry I didn't get you anything, I feel bad."

"I don't need anything. Just..." He finally looked at you. Your hair ribbons mirrored his eyes once more (you swore to wear them like that until the day you died and then in every reincarnation you were born into) and he felt his heart beat against the walls of his chest. "Just don't die. That's all I ask of you. Let me be able to see you again."

Your own heart panged with the weight of his words. "I promise. I'll see you soon, Obanai Iguro."

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #obanai x reader #obanai iguro #obanai iguro x reader #kny x reader #obanai x reader fluff #obanai x you #obanai x y/n #fluff

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qqueenofhades · 3 months ago

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I suddenly thought of an interesting question. What is the purpose of democracy? Is it democracy for democracy's sake? democracy exists to protect human rights. Voting is one of the most typical expressions of democracy, but if, due to the tyranny of the majority—the so-called ‘will of the people’—the human rights of the country’s citizens are actually severely harmed (as in the case of this U.S. election), what then? Does democracy, at this stage, still have any meaning to uphold?I mean, suppose, at this moment, one party were to take power through undemocratic means, such as election manipulation, a coup, or assassination, but this party’s policies were, comparatively, more protective of human rights than the opposing party’s. From an objective standpoint of justice, should it be supported at this stage?🤔

I think this is indeed an interesting question and I'll try to answer it in two parts.

First, the idea that "democracy exists to protect human rights" is a considerably recent idea, and doesn't actually figure much into classical expressions/conceptions of democracy. As it was originally practiced in Athens, it had nothing to do with safeguarding the rights of marginalized groups (indeed, if anything, the opposite). It was just a system where groups of people, i.e. property-owning citizen men, were allowed to make decisions collectively, but it was still able to be adjourned at any time for a despot (in the classical sense) to resume autocratic authority. It just means a system in which the people (demos) have authority (kratia). That means, therefore, who constitutes as a "person" under the law is one of the longest-running questions (and struggles) in the entire history of the concept.

As it was then thought about in the Enlightenment and the 18th-century context in which the founding fathers wrote the US Constitution, "democracy" was very much the same idea of a small group of "worthy" but ordinary men making decisions in a quasi-elected framework, rather than as a single inherited monarchy. There was still no particular idea that "human rights" was a goal, and would have been foreign to most political theorists. There was an emerging idea of "natural rights" wherein man (and definitely man) was a specially rational creature who had a right to have a say in his government, but yet again, that depended on who was viewed as qualified to have that say. (The answer being, again, white property-owning Christian men.) There have been many constitutional law papers written on how much the founding fathers trusted the American electorate (not very) and how the American government was deliberately designed to work inefficiently in order to slow down the implementation of possibly-stupid decisions (but therefore also potentially-helpful ones). The Electoral College, aside from being an attempt to finesse the slavery question (did slaves count as people for purposes of allotting House representatives? James Madison famously decided they counted as three-fifths of a person), was a further system of indirect republicanism. Likewise, US Senators were not popularly elected on a secret ballot, the same as the president, until the passage of the 17th Amendment in 1913.

Of course at the same time in the 19th-early 20th century, the Civil War, Reconstruction and its end, Jim Crow, women's suffrage movements, were all ongoing, and represented further challenge and revision of what "democracy" meant in the American context, and who counted as a legally recognized person who was thus entitled to have their say in government. It was not until Black people and women began insisting that they did in fact count as people that there was any universal idea of "human rights" as expressed in popular democratic systems. This further developed in the 20th century in the world war context, and then in the decolonization waves in the 1950s and 1960s that dismantled European imperialism and gave rise to a flood of new nation-states. Etc. etc., the Civil Rights movement in America, the gay rights movement starting with Stonewall, and further expansion of who was seen as a person not just in the physical but the legal and actionable sense.

That's why we have political philosophy concepts of "electoral" and "liberal" democracies, and why they're not quite the same. In an electoral democracy, people have the right to vote on and elect their leaders, but there may be less protection of associated "liberal" rights such as freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom of expression and assembly, and other characteristics that we think of in terms of protected groups and individual rights. Liberal democracies make a further commitment to protect those rights in addition to the basic principle of voting on your leaders, but as noted, democracy does not inherently protect them and if you have a system where a simple majority vote of 49% can remove rights from the other 48%, you have a problem. Technically, it's still democracy -- the people have voted on it, and one side voted more than the other -- but it's not compatible with justice, which is a secondary question and a whole other debate.

In the modern world, autocrats have often been popularly elected, which is technically a democratic process, but the problem is that once they get there, they start dismantling all the civic processes and safeguards that make the country a democracy, and make it much harder for the opposition to win an election and for power to meaningfully change hands. See for example India (Narendra Modi/BJP), Turkey (Recep Tayyip Erdoğan/AKP), Poland (Jarosław Kaczyński/PiS), Hungary (Viktor Orbán/Fidesz), Russia (Vladimir Putin/United Russia) and America (Donald Trump/GOP). Some of these countries were more democratic than others to start with, but all of them have engaged in either significant democratic erosion or full authoritarian reversion. The US is not -- yet -- at the latter stage, as I have written about the features of the system that make it different from other countries on that list, but it's in the danger zone.

Lastly, the idea of "we're morally better and protect human rights but are willing to launch a coup/assassination/etc of the current government" has been claimed many, many times throughout history. It has never been the case. Not least since if a party in a democratic system, however flawed, is willing to throw aside the core feature of that system, they simply don't respect human rights in any meaningful sense. That's why we kept having "the people's revolutions," especially in the 20th century, that promised to uphold and liberate the working class and all ended up as repressive communist dictatorships functionally indistinguishable from the autocracies or even quasi-democracies they had replaced. In this day and age, does anyone want Online Leftists, who will cancel and viciously attack fellow leftists for tiny disagreements on the internet, deciding that they're going to overthrow the government and announce themselves the great protector of human rights? Aside from the fact that they couldn't do it even if they ever tried and stopped being insane keyboard warriors, I don't think anyone would believe them, and nor should they, because violent antidemocratic groups are bad. This is the sixth-grade level explanation, but it's true.

If you're so drastically committed to your ideology that you're willing to destroy everyone else for not agreeing (and even then, post-revolution, the revolutionaries always start eating each other), then you're not special or enlightened. You're the exact same kind of ideological zealot who has been responsible for most of the worst atrocities throughout history. When "I need to kill for my beliefs but I'll clearly only kill the right people" is your guiding philosophy, the "right people to be killed" quickly expand past any controls or laws. Why not, especially when you've just declared the law to be invalid? Pretty soon you're into death-squads and extrajudicial-assassinations territory, and no matter how soaringly noble your aims were to start with, you've become much worse than what you replaced.

This does not mean "we all have an obligation to obey oppressive governments because the alternative is worse," which has been likewise used by the oppressive governments who benefit from it. It just means that if a democracy is violently overthrown, what emerges from it -- no matter how nice their rhetoric might initially sound -- will invariably be much worse. Winston Churchill famously remarked that democracy is the worst form of government except for all the alternatives, and in this, I tend to agree with him. It sucks, but there's nothing that has yet been invented that can take its place or that has any interest in protecting human rights in the way that 21st-century liberal democracy has generally accepted it has an obligation to do, however partial, flawed, and regressive it can often be. Indeed right now, in this particular historical moment, the only feasible alternative is quite clearly far-right populist fascist theocratic authoritarianism, and that -- for you fortunate Americans who have never lived under anything like that -- is much, much worse. So yeah.

#sweatyzipperzinebagel-blog #ask #history #american history #modern history #the national nightmare

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rcmclachlan · 2 months ago

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okay, so if you’re not writing the aquarium scene in the 118/217 scheming fix-it (god i love this) can you at least share what mishap and or shenanigan gets them banned from the aquarium?? (since you mentioned it in the tags i assume you picked one!)

The aquarium is Christopher's idea, because getting Buck and Tommy back together is the one thing he and Eddie can talk about without it devolving into shouting or week-long silences that make Eddie want to put his fist through his living room wall.

So if plotting to interfere in the open bear trap that is his idiot friends' breakup gets him an hour of uninterrupted screen time with Chris three times a week? He'll meddle in a way that would make even his abuela say, "cariño, that's a little much." He'll change his legal middle name to el metiche.

"Buck used to take me to see the otters when I was younger; they're his favorite. But the exhibit has been closed for a year because they've been redoing it," Chris says, then texts him a link to the aquarium website. "The big reopening is next week. If someone asked Buck to take Jee-Yun, he wouldn't be suspicious."

"Chris, you're a genius," Eddie says, a little awed. His entire body aches to reach through the laptop screen and across state lines to pull his kid into a hug, but all he can do is sit on his hands and hope his face shows all the love he feels.

A small, but genuine grin unfurls on Chris's face. "That's not news, dad."

Eddie decides to take the aquarium idea to what Chimney keeps calling the weekly 118-217 Shadow Summit to see if the rest of the group thinks it holds water—no pun intended—and is extremely offended when Dana gives him a slow blink and says, "That's actually not bad. Who came up with it?"

"Is it that hard to believe it was my idea?"

"Very."

Dana presses the rim of her wine glass to the sly, crimson curve of her mouth. With her victory rolls, winged eyeliner, and tattoos, she looks like the winner of a car show pinup contest. She also looks like an evil queen out of an old school Disney movie. At least five people in their general vicinity look like they'd thank her if she force-fed them a poisoned apple or turned into a giant dragon.

Eddie reaches into the bowl of popcorn by his elbow and throws a handful of it at her. She just takes a sip of her wine and serenely lets the kernels bounce off her.

"Knock it off before I put you both in a time out." Lucy drains the dregs of her beer and says to Chimney, "Having Buckley take your kid is the perfect excuse—she's, what, two? Three?"

"Five," Chim says with the heartache of a man whose baby is almost old enough to rent a car. "As long as we don't tell my wife that Jee's playing the part of the cutest MacGuffin ever in this little plot, we should be good. But how do we get Tommy there?"

"Short of planting a bomb in the penguin tank, I can't think of a reason Mr. Nature Boy himself would ever voluntarily go." Hen roots around in the popcorn bowl for the kernels with the most butter. "Actually, he might be thrilled if we did that. I don't think he likes birds very much."

Dana lifts a brow. "I smell a story."

"Does it smell like KFC?" Chim pops a pretzel in his mouth and chews loudly, grinning. "Once we've adjourned the cabal for the evening, remind me to tell you about Maurice."

Eddie doesn't know Nico very well—he can't get a read on the guy to save his life—but the smug smirk he's sporting looks entirely out of place. Nico takes the last mozzarella stick off the platter they'd ordered to share and puts it between his teeth like a cigar. He looks like the world's lamest oil baron.

Eddie looks at Dana in askance. Wordlessly, she plucks a piece of popcorn out of her hair and throws it at him. It nails him right between the eyes.

"Let me handle Kinard," Nico says. "I'll get him there, no problem."

To his credit, Nico does get Tommy to the aquarium the day of the sea otter exhibit grand reopening. And thanks to Chimney planting Chris's idea in Buck's head at the start of their next shift, Buck does take Jee-Yun.

Unfortunately, their paths never cross, because while the penguin habitat doesn't explode, the sea jelly gallery does, completely flooding the first floor. When the aquarium is forced to evacuate everyone, Buck and Jee-Yun end up at the Chili's down the street, while Tommy ends up riding in an ambulance with an old woman who gets stung by a box jellyfish.

"I don't understand how this happened!" Lucy shouts, keeping her fingers on the ankle pulse of a man in the middle of an allergic reaction to a lilliputian jelly sting as Hen and Chim pump him full of epinephrine and then start administering compressions.

Eddie would help, but he's carrying three kids—two in his arms, one on his back—through shin-deep water to safety while attempting to dodge all the bluebottles floating on the surface. Dana glides past him to get the next group of kids waiting to be rescued, not a hair out of place. She looks like a fucking mermaid. He's gonna trip her the next time they pass each other.

Annoyed, Lucy casts around and then asks, "Has anyone seen Nico?"

Just in time for the man himself to sedately walk through the pandemonium, two bewildered penguins tucked under his arms like purses. He smiles brightly. "Hey, did Kinard pass through here, by any chance? Phase two of my plan is ready to go."

Eddie stares at him. "What was phase one?"

He never does find out what exactly phase one entailed, but it's enough to get them permanently banned from the aquarium for life.

"If you ask me, the punishment so does not fit the crime," Nico says, digging an elbow into Eddie's side as he jostles for room in the back of Athena's squad car.

Eddie says nothing. He's too busy mentally composing the short-answer portion of his application for the El Paso Fire Department, although, in the end, it doesn't matter. He completely forgets everything he plans on writing when Athena slides in, glances in the rearview mirror, and shouts, "Those better not be penguins in my back seat, Edmundo Diaz!"

He and Chris spend two hours talking about it during their next call, so Eddie calls it a win.

#lafd shenanigans #the next 118-217 shadow summit begins with everyone doing a walk of shame into the bar #(except nico‚ who practically skips inside‚ followed by two penguins)#bucktommy #rc's 911 fics #rc's harbor ocs

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writeyouin · 4 months ago

Text

Bumblebee X Reader – Returned

Description – When Optimus told Bumblebee to fake his death, Bumblebee followed orders, choosing his loyalty to his leader over his love for you. Now, after returning to Earth, he regrets that decision and is trying to win you back.

A/N – Just a little Earthspark scenario I had in my head for a while. It changed somewhat when written down, but I like it.

Warnings – Mild angst (happy ending).

Rating – T

Bumblebee glanced at you, quickly looking back at Optimus when you met his gaze. From there on out, his optics stayed firmly fixed on his leader, too afraid of what he might see in your eyes.

The two of you had been in love once. Then, Optimus ordered Bumblebee to fake his death and to leave Earth. At the time, Bumblebee had asked about you, his spark-mate, but Optimus forbade him from telling even you about his mission. At the time, it had seemed reasonable, but now seeing you again, older, sadder, different yet somewhat similar, Bumblebee wished he had fought harder to keep you in his life. Granted, he valued little over Optimus’ leadership, but even great leaders could be wrong every once in a while.

“Meeting adjourned,” Optimus finished, having re-acquainted the team with Bumblebee and provided him with his mission with the Maltos.

It was then that Bumblebee knew he had to say something to you, an apology, a request to talk, anything, but when he looked over, you were already walking away.

“(Y/N),” He called your name and you stopped at your car, waiting silently for him to say what he had to say.

Bumblebee hadn’t expected the silent treatment. That was somehow worse than if you began screaming at him.

“I- I’m glad to see you again,” Bumblebee started hopefully, but by the way your expression closed off, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. “Look, I-” He went quiet as a Megatron drove past, feelin suddenly paranoid that a GHOST Agent might have followed the ex-warlord.

“I don’t have long,” He sighed. “But I’ll meet you at your place and we can talk.”

“Oh, can we?” You said, clapping your hands together sarcastically. “The great and almighty Bumblebee has time to talk to me?”

“Uhh,” Bumblebee stepped back nervously, even though there was nothing you could do to hurt him; your sharp demeanour was enough to make him nervous. “(Y/N), I-”

“I thought you were dead!” You huffed, tears in your eyes as you glared up at him, wishing you could be happy that he was back, but pained by the fact he had chosen isolation over you. “There was a funeral for you and I had to stand by as Optimus read your final rites. Oh, but silly me. You were alive all along and he knew it. That must have been a good laugh for the two of you.”

Bumblebee was speechless as you wrapped your arms around yourself, a sign you were feeling vulnerable.

“I loved you Bumblebee, and I would have done anything for you… I would have waited for you or gone to that damned space station with you. But I guess that was just me being naïve. You just didn’t feel the same, did you? I guess I wasn’t worth fighting for.”

Bumblebee reached his hand towards you, “(Y/N)-”

“Leave me alone Bee. Just do your mission and whatever else Optimus tells you. You’re good at that.” With that, you got into your car and drove away, heading home where you would be able to cry over all you had learned.

Bumblebee found the following weeks almost unbearable. He worked with the Malto-Bots. You also visited the Malto’s homestead from time to time, teaching the young bots about life on Earth and culture from your perspective; it helped the younglings to have someone else around who they weren’t related to, to listen to their problems, offer guidance, and generally be there for them.

Yet, when you visited, you were quiet and shut off around Bumblebee, treating him with professional courtesy and nothing more. Sometimes, it seemed like you hated him, but then your mask would slip and you would say something kind, reminisce over a private moment with him or laugh at one of his jokes only to excuse yourself afterwards and go back to that cool professionalism which he hated.

He knew he had hurt you and he couldn’t expect things to go back exactly the way they were. He had changed, as had you, but by Primus, he wanted you back. Well, if that was going to happen, then he knew he had to go back to basics. Flowers and a moonlit walk were a good place to start. It wouldn’t solve all of your shared problems, but it would make his intentions clear and hopefully break the ice that had formed in the years you had been apart.

Bumblebee held the bouquet he had picked for you by his side, trying not to gesture too wildly while he practised his speech on the walk to the farmhouse GHOST had provided for you.

“I think you should try forgiving me-” He shook his helm, “No, that sounds like I’m blaming them. Okay, things have been hard the last few years but I think we should give it another shot and- That’s not it.”

Bumblebee vented air through his systems, taking a minute before trying again, all too aware he was running out of time to practice, “Look (Y/N), we still have to work together, and if we’re working together you can stand to be around me and-”

“And you think that’s a good enough reason to get back together?” You said incredulously, startling Bumblebee as you stepped out of your car.

“(Y/N)! Uh, no- I mean- I wanted to- That wasn’t the final speech- I thought you were inside,” He pointed accusingly at your house, stammering, “I-I mean, I was supposed to have more time and- and- These are for you!” He thrust his servo at you, showing off his bouquet.

You raised an eyebrow bemusedly, “That’s ragwort.”

“Yes?” Bumblebee agreed uncertainly, hoping you liked ragwort since you knew what it was.

“It’s poisonous.”

“ARGH!” Bumblebee threw the weeds to the ground, crushing them with his pede. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Obviously.”

“Are you mad?”

You allowed yourself a small mirthful smile, “At this? No.”

“And at me?”

Your smile faded, “Jury’s still out. It depends on what you’re going to say in the final draft of that speech you were practising.”

“Right…” Bumblebee deflated. He didn’t know what he was going to say. He expected that the right words would come out, just like they used to when he visited you in days long gone. He opened his mouth, trusting his spark to lead him to the right words, “I- I miss you.”

You looked sad at that. “I know, Bee. I miss you too, but it’s not enough. I’m sorry.”

You turned away from him, ready to retire inside for the night.

“Wait,” Bumblebee begged, “Please.”

You hesitated, giving him your full attention, despite the pain he was causing you.

“I miss you,” He said again. “I miss us. I wish I could turn back the clock and that I’d fought harder for you but… But I can’t. All I can do is try to make things right, now. I was an idiot back then. I’m still kind of an idiot, but I want us to be together and I want to fight for this. Please, just tell me there’s a chance and I’ll do anything. I love you. I always have.”

You stared up at Bumblebee warily, wanting to lower your defences but scared that if you did, he would leave you again or worse, that he might actually die this time. Yet, as you opened your mouth to reject him, the words wouldn’t come out.

However, you couldn’t readily accept him either. Your relationship with him was in an odd state of limbo. There was too much history to start anew, but you couldn’t simply pick up where you left off.

Looking into Bumblebee’s desperate optics, you knew you had to make a decision immediately.

You sighed, “Look, I’m not promising anything but let’s- Let’s go for a walk and see where the night takes us.”

Bumblebee’s expression lightened, a smile forming that made your heart flutter with a whirlwind of happy memories. Just like that, you knew that he would win you back, but it didn’t mean you wouldn’t make him work to build up your trust in him first.

#fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #reader #maccadam #transformers #tf earthspark #transformers earthspark #earthspark #tfe #bumblebee #bumblebee x reader #tfe bumblebee #returned

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delicatedarknight · 1 year ago

Text

Bruce: ok kids I'm going out on a date with Clark. behave yourself

[few seconds after Bruce left]

Jason: from today on I'm the king of this city. Bow down to me peasants

Tim: bow down huh? Come here let me bow down your head backwards

Jason: you dare to talk back to me, you imbecile. Our fight shall be worthy

Tim: let's meet in the ring, peasant

Damian: On one side we have our penny worth king and on the other hand we have a dime worth peasant. The fight shall begin

Jason: here you go peasant have this +2

Tim[smirking]: bow down to me. *Throws a +4*

Jason[grinning]: huh bow? To you huh? Now suffer

*throws 2 +4*

Tim[pulls out Jason's order history]: checkmate

Jason[laughing maniacally]: any last words? *Pulls out Tim/kon cute pics together*

[loud gasps audio]

Dick[in batman's cape]: order order silence in the court

Jason: your honor this villain has stolen my rightful place as the king.

Tim: objection you honor. It's all a lie. I'm the rightful king. I even have witness with me

Dick: present the witness

Damian[in specs]: your honor I'm Detective Wayne I would say they both are liars. *Removes the specs* it's I, I am the actual king, my lord

Bruce: no your honor, it's me. I'm the real king.

[loud gasps]

Dick[sweating]: haha the court declares Bruce as the king and is now adjourned.

Jason[silently walking away]: yea yea he is the kin-

Bruce[catching Jason]: now as the king, I shall hand over the decree

[collective tsks from kids]

Bruce: my dear subjects, from today on each Friday shall be 'Who dressed up as the best meme' war. The winner shall be awarded adequately.

Damian: it's not like we lack anything father

Bruce: the winner shall be awarded with Batman's affection

[collective screaming]

Jason: this time I shall win

Damian: dream on

Clark[outside window]: can I also participate?

[collective boos]

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hoe4hotchner · 3 months ago

Note

Aaron Hotchner x non bau rich reader. Hotchner see's reader be all professional CEO and telling her that she looks hot when talking about work.

Girl Boss | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x rich fem!reader| WC: 0.6k | CW: girlbossing

The sharp click of your heels resonated within the room. Sunlight streamed through the towering glass windows behind you, casting your silhouette against the long table where half a dozen personnel sat, their pens poised and eyes alert.

"Let me be clear," you began, your voice cutting through the silence. "We are not pushing this launch back again." Your words were sharp enough to make even the most seasoned executive in the room sit a little straighter. You placed your hands on the table's edge, leaning forward slightly, the subtle move reinforcing your authority.

"I expect finalized projections on my desk by tomorrow morning. No excuses. No oversights," you continued. "If there are any further delays, we’ll be having an entirely different kind of meeting. Understood?"

The collective murmurs of agreement followed swiftly, though not without a trace of hesitation. Your gaze swept the table, catching each person’s eye for a split second, long enough to cement your expectations but short enough to keep your employees at bay.

"Good," you said, straightening up. Your expression softened by a degree — but only a degree. "Meeting adjourned."

Aaron had been leaning casually against the doorway to your office, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat as he observed the scene unfolding. His eyes tracked your every movement, and there you were — fierce and assertive — commanding the room in a way that made it impossible for anyone to look away. Including him.

He didn’t interrupt, content to watch as you had delivered your final order, and dismissed the room. His gaze lingered, marveling at the way you held everyone’s attention.

Finally, your eyes found him. You turned and strode out of the room, the rhythm of your heels once again filling the space.

"Aaron," you said, your voice losing the edge it carried moments before as you walked toward him. Behind you, the meeting’s attendees began packing up. "You’re early."

"Traffic was light," he replied. He tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening as he added, "Should I call you ma’am now, or will boss suffice?"

You rolled your eyes. Still, you couldn’t keep the small smile from tugging at your lips.

"Come on," you said, closing the distance between you and reaching for his arm. Your fingers brushed against the sleeve of his coat. "We’re done here."

Aaron pushed off the doorframe and let you lead him, his smirk lingering as he fell into step beside you. Whatever commanding personality you projected in the boardroom, he knew the softer version of you just as well — and he loved both sides equally.

The elevator was empty when the two of you stepped inside. His arm came around you without hesitation, his hand finding the small of your back. "Long day?"

"You have no idea," you admitted, closing your eyes as you allowed yourself to rest against him. "Sometimes I forget why I even started this."

Aaron chuckled softly, his breath warm against your temple as he leaned down slightly. "I think I just remembered," he said with a teasing tone as his lips brushed the shell of your ear.

You opened your eyes, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, an eyebrow arching in curiosity. "Oh?" you prompted.

"You," he replied without missing a beat. "You look unbelievably hot when you're bossing people around. I should make you talk about profit margins more often."

A surprised laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it, your hand instinctively swatting at his chest. "You’re ridiculous," you said, shaking your head, though the smile that stretched across your face betrayed your words.

"Ridiculously in love," he countered smoothly, his hand at your back pulling you just a fraction closer, as though he couldn’t stand the thought of even an inch of space between you.

The elevator glided to a stop, the faint ding marking your arrival at the parking level. Aaron glanced at the doors as they began to slide open, then back at you. "Come on, CEO," he said, "let me take you home."

565 notes · View notes

anonymityisfunwriter · 21 days ago

Note

Ok, after having listened to TTPD on loop, I have a request ft. But, daddy I love him.

Dream sequence fic starring Sunshine x Bucky and the dream is set in the 40s with Nick Fury and Sam Wilson as Sunshine's father and brother respectively. Something magical hit 'em and now the whole team is kind of in a dream while loki is the only one awake (he's a powerful witch duh😂) and everyone has been weirdly cast in the 40s roles.

Feel free to run along as you'd love. As always, I adore your writing 🫶🤍

No because I’ve never written a dream sequence before but like that means I can be a little more unhinged frivolous than I normally am. I know this took a hot minute, but I hope you enjoy! Thank you for the ask! 💛

But Daddy I Love Him

Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader Summary - You weren't really his daughter. He wasn't really your father. And yet, his constant disapproval makes you want to scream 'But Daddy, I love him'.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Grumpy Sunshine Series

"Nick," Sam tries for what feels like the dozenth time. "Really, they didn't have anything to do with it. It's on me, I'm- "

"This meeting is adjourned," Nick sharply cuts Sam off. You begin to stand from your seat at the conference room table as Nick Fury's cutting glare meets yours, "Not you."

The moment those words leave Fury's mouth, Bucky freezes.

There's a part of Bucky that knows anything he says or does right now will make this about ten times worse.

And yet, there's an even bigger part of him that doesn't care. He'll defend you to Nick Fury. He'll stand there and refuse to let him tear into you about this of all things.

Nick glares at him, speaking pointedly as Bucky refuses to move an inch even as the rest of the team timidly shuffles out, "I said meeting is adjourned."

You nod as Bucky rests a comforting hand on your shoulder, "Go. I'll be okay."

Bucky's eyes meet yours for a short moment, silently asking you if you'll actually be okay. You nod again, jutting your chin toward the door.

After the door clicks shut behind Bucky, the room is quiet for a long moment.

Your eyes flicker up to meet Nick's, "It was an accident, Nick."

"An accident?" He snorts in disbelief, "Going public with the Winter Soldier is an accident?"

"With James. James Buchanan Barnes."

He rolls his eyes, grunting in distaste, "That's not who the world sees."

You stand up from your chair, fighting the urge to stomp your foot like a petulant child, "I don't care! I don't care what the world sees!"

"You don't care?" he scoffs, resting his hands on his hips. "You don't care that the reputation that you've built is going to be singlehandedly torn to shreds? You're saying you're willing to burn down everything you've worked so hard to build... for him?"

There isn't a moment's pause or hesitation as you utter a single word, "Yes."

"For him?"

"For him."

Nick shakes his head, his muscles in his jaw ticking, "He's not good enough for you."

You scoff at him, "Is that what this is about?"

He rolls his eyes, planting his hands on the table, "No, now, it's about your imminent fall from grace."

"My name is mine to disgrace, Nick! I love him!"

"You're not thinking." Nick forcefully taps his temple, "Think about this. Think about what you're doing!"

"No!"

He throws his hands up in frustration, "So that's it then?"

"Why can't you just support me?" you implore.

"Because you clearly don't care what I have to say!"

"That's not true!" you raise your voice, feeling a wave of defensiveness wash over you. "It was an accident. Sam didn't mean to post that picture. He told you that himself."

"I think he did," Nick sharply accuses. And for the first time ever, he speaks to you like the Director of SHEILD instead of the Nick you've always known. "I think you didn't like that I told you to wait, to bide your time. I think you went behind my back and disobeyed direct orders."

You scoff, "So you're calling me a liar?"

His tone is sharp. Another first, it seems like he doesn't even care about sparing your feelings. His words are as sharp and cutthroat as his reputation, "I think you're blinded by your own feelings. And I think that you're making a big mistake."

This time, you do stomp your foot like his petulant child, "It's my mistake to make! I'm not taking it back."

He raises his chin defiantly, "And I'm not changing my mind."

You cross your arms, refusing to back down, "Me neither."

He stands to his full height, his face blank and emotionless, "Then I guess there's nothing left to say."

The words feel like a punch to the gut, but you still can't bring yourself to back down, "I guess not..."

"You're dismissed."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You've never actually been dismissed. Everyone knew you weren't just an Avenger or agent or Asset to Nick. And now, he was talking to you like that's all you were.

There's a heaviness in the pit of your stomach as you stand out of your seat. You keep your eyes locked on his as you stand up, silently imploring him to see reason, to see how much you love Bucky.

It doesn't happen. You shake your head at him once more.

And you walk out the conference room feeling more distraught then you've felt in quite some time.

You never fight with Nick like that. You hardly ever had disagreements, let alone full blown screaming matches.

The pain of the intense argument just reminds you that he's always been more than just your commander, more than just the director of SHIELD. He's the closest thing you've got to a father figure. But you're not changing your mind anymore than he is.

"I take it that it didn't go well?" Loki asks, leaning against the wall in front of the conference room.

You shake your head with a sad smile, "Not exactly."

He places a light hand on your shoulder, patting it once, "It’s a rite of passage for a child to disappoint their parents. It was bound to happen.”

"Except Nick isn’t my dad.”

Loki raises an eyebrow at you, “Didn’t you refer to him as your father?”

“That was one time and it was an accident!” you huff.

“Accidental or not, it’s a part of growing up. Especially for a precocious, dutiful daughter like yourself.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips, “Are you trying to make me feel better?"

Loki shrugs, "I suppose I am. Is it working?”

"Not really, but thank you." You scrunch your nose, shaking your head slightly, "I appreciate the attempt."

He lets go of your shoulder with another pat, "It will work out. One way or another."

"Did your magic tell you that?"

He begins to walk away with his signature, mischievous smirk, "Something like that."

"I didn't like the way you just said that, Loki," you call down the corridor. "Should I be worried about that?"

He shrugs, "Like I said, it will settle. One way or another."

There's a part of you that knows you should go after him and question his plans.

The part that wins out is the one in desperate search of comfort after the blowout with the closest thing you have to a father figure.

“How did it go?” Bucky asks the moment you enter your room. Your only response in a defeated groan as you slump down face first onto your bed. Bucky sighs, pulling you close to him, "He'll come around."

"I hope so." You turn your cheek, looking up at him with a sad smile, "Even if he doesn't, I hope you know that it doesn't change anything, I love you."

He strokes your cheek, "I love you too."

"We should get some sleep. I'm drained."

"Come here."

You rest your head against his chest, allowing yourself to be soothed by the warmth of Bucky's skin.

The last thing you remember is drifting off into a restless sleep.

In the next moment, you find yourself jolted up with a sharp gasp of air.

You stare down at yourself, your normal clothes replaced by a puffy poodle skirt and a neatly tucked in crisp, white blouse. “Wow… this is different.”

You jolt at the sound of the familiar voice behind you. “Tell me about it.”

You can't help the wide grin that tugs at both corners of your lips as you take in the sight of Bucky before you. His normal, short, fluffy hair is entirely slicked back. His dark jeans and henley replaced with rugged, blue denim and a white t-shirt with a snug leather jacket.

You cheekily tug at Bucky's unzipped leather jacket. “Oh, I'm having that dream again.”

He quirks an eyebrow, “Um... did you mean to say that out loud?"

"What?"

He smirks down at you, twirling the ends of your high ponytail, "You dream of me like this?"

Your eyebrows pull together. Your head whips around as you take in the room again. And yes, you're sure you're still dreaming.

A similar realization dawns on Bucky - this isn't normal. This isn't like any dream Bucky you've conjured up.

No, this was really him.

Right here.

In your dream.

He paces the length of the room, the worry in his eyes palpable. “Are you really here right now? In my dream?”

“Am I?”

“Are you?" you challenge.

Nick storms in, the door slamming behind him, "Didn't I tell you to stay away from her?!"

Your head whips toward the door, "Nick?"

Nick blinks a few times, staring down at his hands for a moment, "What the hell?"

"Uh... what the hell is happening right now?" Bucky lilts.

You shrug your shoulders, "I have no idea."

Sam storms in from the stairs behind you, "You're not good enough for my sister!"

"Sam?" you squawk. "What is happening!?"

"Even in my dreams I can't escape him," Bucky grumbles.

"What are you doing in my dream?" Sam demands.

"What are you doing in my dream?" you counter.

"Everyone shut up!" Nick interrupts. "Now, everyone think. What happened just before we went to sleep?"

"Nothing, I went to bed like I normally do."

"Same here."

"I fell asleep in front of the TV in my room," Sam admits.

"So how the hell did we all end up here in the same dream?" Nick rhetorically asks.

"I don't think this is a dream," Bucky interjects.

You look over at him, quirking an eyebrow, "Why?"

"My arm." He glances down at his metal arm, flexing his arms. "I don't normally dream it. In my dreams, I have my flesh arm."

"So then what is this?"

"Magic?" you reply.

"If someone hit the Compound, wouldn't everyone be here?" Sam counters.

Your head tilts as you weigh his words, "That's true..."

"So what if this was targeted?" Bucky offers.

"And what exactly would be the point of that?" Nick argues.

You sharply gasp, "Loki..."

"What? What about Loki?"

"I ran into him in the hallway after me and Nick..." Your eyes flicker up at Nick, whose mouth twists with something vaguely resembling remorse. "He said that we would work things out."

"Is that all he said?"

"Yeah, pretty much. He said we would work things out one way or another."

"One way or another? What if this is 'another'?"

"Who says that we're even stuck in here? Maybe we all just need to wake up?" Sam offers.

"And how would we do that?" you ask.

Without missing a beat, Bucky reaches out, pinching Sam.

"Ow!" Sam shrieks. "What the hell?"

Bucky offers an unapologetic smirk and half shrug, "That would've done it."

"So we're stuck?"

"Maybe this is like an escape room kinda thing. Maybe we're supposed to find a key or something."

“Okay, we just need to figure this out. There has to be a reasonable explanation for this.”

“Or there’s a weird, strange, magic thing going on that we will never be able to explain.”

“Yeah, or that.”

"Hey guys?" You look down at the coffee table. "Were these scripts always here?"

"Scripts?"

"Look, we each have one with our name on it."

"I'm not doing this," Sam announces after a quick skim. The house starts rumbling beneath your feet. Dishes from a kitchen you can't see clatter to the ground. "Okay, okay, I'll do it!"

The moment the words leave his mouth, the ground settles.

"Wait to piss off the magical dream, Sam," Bucky hisses.

"Okay, Nick, you're up first."

He grunts in displeasure, taking a long moment before finally acquiescing, "Fine... Didn't I tell you to stay away from my daughter?"

"Sam..." you cajole.

"Fine," he groans. "You're not good enough for my sister! But for the record, I only lightly threatened Bucky. I was never against your relationship."

"You once threatened to chop me up and feed me to the fish."

"Yeah, but I only did it once!"

"But daddy I love him?" you awkwardly recite. "I can't say this!"

"Just read the damn script!" Sam groans. "I want to go back to sleep. For real this time!"

“And I’m having his baby!” Both Nick's and Sam's jaws hit the ground. You look up from your script to their shocked faces. “No, I’m not - but you should see your faces.”

"Whoever wrote this script, it needs some work!" Sam shouts out into the ether.

"And what will they say about you?"

"I don't care." You take a step out of Bucky's arms, "I'm not coming to my senses. He's the one I want."

Nick makes a sound of open displeasure, "Of course, I have to listen to this in and out of consciousness..."

"Maybe if you would actually listen to me, you wouldn't have to hear it over and over again," you shoot back.

"Or maybe if you stopped acting like a child throwing a temper tantrum the second you don't get what you want-"

"I'm being childish?" you squawk.

"Yes! You're being unreasonable and impractical!"

"You're the one being unreasonable!" You storm over to the front door, flinging it open. "Why do you even care so much?"

"Why do I care? Why do I care?" He shouts back, right on your heels as you angrily pace the front porch of the dream house. "Because if I'm the only father you get, you better believe I'm gonna be a damn good one!"

The words stop you in your tracks. You sharply inhale, the emotions lodging itself in your throat, "Nick..."

The words take him aback, but even he knows there would be no point in denying it. Even if you both denied it, there was really only one reason why he was coming down so hard on you.

He stands before you, shaking his head, "I know it's not much, I know I'm not perfect, and I know it doesn't make up for you being alone for so long, but I'm here now. I'm here. And if I'm what you get, then I'm going to give it my all."

In his short pause, you can say nothing, still mostly stunned silent. Even if you could speak, you know there's nothing that you could say that could accurately show how much it all meant to you, how much he meant to you.

All your anger, all your outrage disappears the moment you realize what this all boils down to.

He cares.

In his own, Nick Fury way, he cares.

You rush towards him, slightly knocking the wind out of him with the force of your embrace.

He strokes the back of your head for just a short moment, “You really love him, don’t you?”

“More than anything.”

Nick's hand drops, sighing with a slight grumble, "Clearly enough to concoct this elaborate dream sequence."

You chuckle, pulling away, "Oh, this really wasn't me. I have no idea how we all ended up here."

"What?"

"Yeah, I had nothing to do with this. We could be trapped here for all I know."

"We could be trapped here and we're having a heart to heart on a fake porch?"

"Hey, Nick? How did we get out onto the porch?"

"What do you mean? We walked right through that-" His words trail off as he points to a door that isn't there anymore. "That door."

A panicked gasp leaves you, "Oh my God, Sam and Bucky are gone too."

Nick rests a comforting hand on your shoulder, "Let's just stay calm. We just need to think this through."

You look down at the script tightly clutched in your hands. "Wait, look, the script changed."

Nick sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Now what?"

"Daddy, I love him," you begin to recite. "And he loves me too. I know it won't be easy, but he's the one I want."

"If he makes you happy, then I'm happy for you."

You look back up at him, your eyes shining with hope, "Do you mean that?"

"That's not part of the script."

"Do you though?"

"Assuming that we ever escape this, yeah, I do mean it. I just worry. I worry about you."

"Thanks, Nick."

Nick violently jolts awake from the dream. He looks around his room in a cold sweat, "Motherfu-"

Bucky Barnes Masterlist Grumpy Sunshine Series

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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79 notes · View notes

psycheetamore · 2 months ago

Text

Punish me (part 2 of 3): Feyd-Rautha’s lessons for virgins

Notes: “Have no fear. I remember you have never been fucked before. No woman leaves my patronage a virgin” he said, sounding deceitfully considerate. “It is not becoming to my name, nor my role as a tutor.”

“You will need to replenish your energy, before we can commence our next lesson” pointing at a new spread of food on the table. He withdrew a chair and allowed you to sit. While you tugged in, he watched you with amusement. You did not try to hide your nakedness, as hunger had overtaken you. He touched the marks he had left on your neck, your shoulder, your hips, causing you to shudder.

Tags: MDNI, Feyd-Rautha is his own trigger warning, manipulative Feyd, talkative Feyd, dominant Feyd, physically imposing Feyd, humiliating Feyd, oral demanding Feyd (as a tool of near-daily conditioning), nutritious black cum giving/weaponizing cum Feyd, food depriving Feyd, attention depriving Feyd, drugging Feyd, dubcon/noncon Feyd, no beta we die like duke leto. The author may actually start to have regrets looking at the tags - I trust I do not need to add ‘dead dove don’t eat’ with all these tags. Tbh, this is absolute fey foul filth no-one should read. Please note additional tags for this chapter: deflowering Feyd, ‘idk what aftercare is’-Feyd, powerplay Feyd, despite all of this still being able to make women (you) horny & cum-Feyd

Word count: 6k

Link to Punish me (part 1 of 3) – learning how to succumb to Feyd-Rautha’s process of redemption

+++

The na-Baron did not bring a basket, yet you stayed on your knees. You took what he had to give to you. He replenished your thirst, he gave you a bit of energy. Whether it was due to the nutritional properties of his cum or due to nourishing properties of his approval, you did not know. Perhaps both.

And you were rewarded for it, as he took you to a nearby room, where a table was set up with a wide array of foods.

“Before you can sit here, I need to wash you. You have started to smell foul” he said, with a diminishing voice and disdain on his face. It felt like a slap in your face, as you had done your best to keep clean using the tools you had been familiar with.

He brought you to his private bathroom, where a small bowl with water stood on a counter.

“Strip” he ordered, “for me” was added with desire in his voice.

You could not remember the last time a man had seen you fully unclothed. Combined with additional shame he had just introduced and the suggestion of lustfulness, you were fearful.

“My lord… if I may. You have been so benevolent in your gracious hospitality. I would not want to burden you. Please let me clean myself, while you take a moment to rest” you tried to argue. “Please.”

He must have heard the panic in your voice. The tremble. He must have seen the vibrations in your limbs, as he grabbed you by your hair and violently pushed you with your chest against the wall: “never. Never do that again. Never contradict me” he nearly burned in your ear. You could feel the spit flowing from his mouth to the side of your head.

With his free hand he grabbed a knife from his belt and pushed it against the seam of your trousers. It did not take a lot of effort to have it fall down in pieces to your ankles. You heard his knife be sheathed in his belt again, as he dragged you to the counter and forced you to extend your arms by placing your hands on it.

With this foot he motioned you to spread your legs apart, exposing you in all your vulnerability to him.

You had no clue what he was about to do, but you were already regretting your attempt to maintain your honour.

An open hand adjourned with rings found your buttock in full speed. And another. And another. Between slaps he spoke: “never”, “ever”, “contradict”, “ME”, “again”, “if”, “you”, “want”, “a”, “chance”, “for”, “salvation.” For good measure, a few were added.

Your knees trembled from pain. Your skin must have been opened by now. You wanted to curl up like a little ball. But he did not allow you: “stay still. You have lost your privilege to undress yourself.” His knife cut through your remaining clothes like butter.

Bend over in front of him, you stood there. Naked. Vulnerable. Hurt.

He grabbed a scrubbing cloth, dipped it in the water, and started to work on you. He pushed hard. Harder than necessary. Your entire skin started to feel tender, while your buttocks felt like they were on fire as he subjected them to this cleansing.

By the time he had done nearly your entire body, only your nether regions - still on full display - were left. He had even taken the time to cleanse your hair.

“Hmm” he muttered. “Shall I use the same scrub on your pussy?” Moving up to your head, he grabbed your hair to have you face him: “what shall I do? Have you learned your lesson already, or not?” His face was dark.

“Yes sir, lord Harkonnen. Please. Yes, I have learned your lessons. Please don’t use it there” you pleaded desperately.

“But how do I know you will remember your lesson?” as he gripped your skull with more force.

“Please, please na-Baron, please” as your face started to transform with the desire to cry. “Please” you pleaded again. “I cannot take it. It is too much. Too painful.”

“Hmm” he muttered again. “I am still not done. But I am getting hungry. Let me finish cleaning you quickly.”

Relief washed over you as he removed the scrub and threw it in the sink. Only then did you realise that you did not know what he would use as replacement. But you would find out soon enough.

He dipped his hand into the bowl, made a little cup and brought the water to your pussy. He started to wash it, quite delicately. Over your hilt, in the loins, on the outside of your folds. He repeated this a few times. It was a relief from the harsh touches you had undergone. It cooled you off. It deflected your attention. Your body, treacherously full of desire to live, bucked against his hand, ever so slightly.

“Impatient little cunt you have” the observant man replied nearly immediately, having caught the smallest of movements. “Don’t worry, I will come to you shortly, as he abruptly pushed one finger inside of you.

A squeal escaped you again. “Have no fear. I remember you have never been fucked before. No woman leaves my patronage a virgin” he said, sounding deceitfully considerate. “It is not becoming to my name, nor my role as a tutor.” He laughed: “what would my subjects think?”

You were biting your tongue not to say: ‘like you care what we think.’

He removed his finger with a curled motion, to bring his hand to the bowl again and collect more water. Now he started to clean your inner folds, his fingers hovering over your entrance repeatedly.

Your body started to take over from your stubborn mind, as you let your head fall down and a moan escaped.

“Hmm” he muttered. “Is my little Fremen guest already eager enough to attend this lesson from me?” as his fingers continued to work near your core. “Tell me. What is it you want?”

The feeling of hunger and thirst, combined with the humiliation, had left your mind going astray. It was increasingly difficult to fully comprehend what was going on, causing you to think less and respond purely based on your initial feelings.

“Whatever pleases you, my lord” was your response to his ministrations.

“That is the only right answer. You are starting to learn” he said, as he was petting your hurt behind. “But I still sense dirt within you. I will clean the impurity” he responded.

He grabbed another scoop of water, and repeated the cleansing. But now, every time a finger would pass your entrance, it would dip in ever so slightly. Every time just a bit deeper. Soon, another finger was joined. Showing you how, ever so softly, you could be opened, you could be set to welcome him, knowing his size would be difficult to adapt to.

“You are clean enough. Come” he ordered, as he led you back to his bedroom, still undressed.

“Here,” he pointed at his bed which consisted of canopy held up by four pillars. You obeyed and stood next to the bed. “Wrap your arms around this pole” he instructed. As you complied, rope came from from under the bed, which was used to tie your hands together and connect them to a fixed ring. You did not know what he was up to, as he had just said he wanted to eat, but you did not have the capacity to deal with more pain.

“You will stand here, while I eat” he presented as a mere fact. No consideration for you, and your hunger, which did not surprise you anymore.

As he ate, facing you, you were left to stand there. Stripped from your modesty. No place to hide. Exposed. Uncovered. Afraid.

You had hope, deep inside of you, that as long as you did not rub him in the wrong way, he would come to give you something as additional nourishment.

But he did not. He ate slowly. Deliberately very slow. He made sure you saw him eat. He made sure that you knew he was looking at you. Looking at you with the pry of a predator when game has caught its eye. Looking at you, with eyes spitting the defiling filth he was planning on laying onto you.

The hunger made place for fear. You knew what he was capable was in this very room. You had heard the sounds, and you did not want to follow in those footsteps. You wanted to live.

Once you had embraced that notion, it somehow set you free. It allowed you to reimagine his foul gaze into a token of unencumbered attention for you. You recalled how your mind had ventured to explore what he would be hiding under his robes. And perhaps now was the moment you would find out.

This shift in your state of mind must have had an impact on how your body presented itself, as he growled, again observant as he could be: “it seems like you are more than ready. You are eager. I believe you want me to fuck you, don’t you, little warrior?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Yes, what?” he asked menacingly.

“I am dying to be fucked by you, if it befits you, my lord Harkonnen.”

“Hmm” he moaned, “that’s better.” As he took a few steps towards you, he continued: “do you recall what I told you?”

“I am not sure, my lord?” you said, with slight angst in your voice, as he now stood just behind you, with his hands on your hips. You tried to look at him, but he was out of the reach of your neck.

“Once I fuck you, once I take you, you may call me by my given name. But only then. And may I remind you that this is not a suggestion.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Come” as he pulled your hips back while you leaned against the pole. “Spread” as he pushed his knee between your legs to make room for him.

You had started to drip. Your body had been preparing you for this very moment.

He kneeled down behind you, facing your core. While he opened the buttons to his skirt, he observed: “your pussy is beautiful, and is already glistening with moisture. This was prepared using the cum I gave you.” He threw the fabric covering the bottom half of his body on the bed, as he pushed two fingers in you. “So moist. You are desperate for me. I even feel you pulsing on my fingers.”

As he curled his fingers, you arched your back inwards a bit more, exposing yourself a bit more.

“So fucking needy” as he withdrew his fingers and removed his trousers, which he kicked out of the way. “So fucking desperate to have me. Even more than that little mouth of yours” as he thrusted him inside of you. “It does not matter how badly I treat you, your body will betray you” he said in a moment of surprising honesty. Opening you with force. It would have hurt considerably more if your mind and body would not have started to prepare for him already.

“So wet, yet so tight. Even tighter than your throat. Tighter and wetter” he huffed as he kept on opening you further and further, wider and deeper.

“I am feeling how your narrow cunt is wrapping itself around me, clenching itself. You are ready to come already, aren’t you, little student?” while he grabbed your hair to expose your neck to his tongue.

“Yes” you moaned, “yes, my lord Harkonnen.”

These words had not left your mouth, or he had already slapped your still tender butt.

“Feyd-Rautha, Feyd-Rautha, I apologise” as a wall of pleasure came over you.

“Your first orgasm. Reached through pain invoked by my hand. How adorable” as he bit your neck while removing himself from you.

The na-Baron wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you onto the bed, still tied to the pole. There, you were leaning on the rope that was connected to the ring, now with your shoulder against the pole and your knees on the bed. He positioned you in front of him, guiding you to the right height while holding on to your hips, so that he could continue to take you.

With the pillar holding you tight, you could not move anymore. Every push he gave drove you against it, removing any buffer that you had to reduce the depth of his thrusts. This position allowed him to go deeper than before. You tried to tilt your hips to remove some of the length, but you slapped you again: “you will take everything I give you. Every centimetre, and you will thank me for it, woman” he rumbled.

“Yes, lord… Feyd-Rautha, yes. Thank you… for your… consideration” you spoke between thrusts, as each one left you breathless and unable to speak.

Your eyes turned in their sockets. You had no place to escape. No place to leave. He was in total control of what he was doing and what you were experiencing. He knew what he was doing. He knew the pleasures he was bringing. He knew that how he tilted his hips, the angle with which he drove himself into your core, would inevitably lead to another peak.

“Let yourself go. Trust me” he whispered. “Trust me. Submit to me. Give yourself to me” he continued to whisper. The intensity of the thrusts increased; he wanted to sheath himself in you entirely. You had nowhere to go. No rescue. You would give him what he wanted. Your body took over from your mind; his relentless fucking extending the length of your wave.

“Fuck, you are so tight. Even after everything I gave you, you still hold me so well” he moaned. He drove himself deep inside of you a few last times - everything he needed before he spilled himself inside of you, again.

Falling over you, his mouth reached your ear: “you are delightful. Even if you do not learn that quickly, you are a good fuck. For a virgin.”

Leaving you to contemplate whether this was a compliment or an insult wrapped as one, he removed himself from you and fell back on his bed, leaving you to your own devices. Within seconds he was asleep, while you were left in an uncomfortable position, still bearing everything to the world, but now with black cum leaking from your tenderised puffy pussy. Emotions raging through your head on what just had happened, the silence gave you some time to contemplate.

+++

Later that night, you were placed in your room again. Having been exposed for so long, you covered your nether region and your breasts with both hands, hurling your shoulders together. You felt his semen continue to drip down your legs and wanted nothing more than to clean yourself and lay down to rest your body.

You were removed from the relative comfort of your own mind by his harsh tone: “is this how you show your gratitude, girl?” he spoke with a tone bearing the equivalent of lashes on your body as your back was still facing him.

You turned around, fell down to your knees and touched the ground multiple times with your forehead. “Thank you for defiling me, for taking the time to purify me, lord na-Baron” you said, while looking up to him, with hunger in your eyes. Begging him without words. He threw the remaining part of the space apple, which he was eating as he brought you back, onto your lap. “I was not planning on giving this to you, but you redeemed yourself a little bit” after which he closed the door.

That night you were sent back to your room without any clothes nor any extra food, but somehow you still felt fulfilled.

It was difficult to find sleep, wrapping yourself in the sheets of your bed, your mind reliving all the events, all the mistakes and the experiences gained.

+++

The next day he visited you again. The ritual repeated itself.

After it, he brought you to his bedroom again, sans sheets. “You will need to replenish your energy, before we can commence our next lesson” pointing at a new spread of food on the table. He withdrew a chair and allowed you to sit. While you tugged in, he watched you with amusement. You did not try to hide your nakedness, as hunger had overtaken you. He touched the marks he had left on your neck, your shoulder, your hips, causing you to shudder.

You did not question him, you did not ask him what was to come, even if dread started to cement in your bones with each of his touches. You were still sore on the inside and outside from yesterday.

It had taken mere weeks for you to succumb.

“Yesterday, I went easy on you. Today. I won’t” he huffed, as you took your last bite.

You looked up at him with fear in your eyes.

“You would be disappointed if I would do anything else” he said with a soft voice. “Wouldn’t you?” as he pushed some hair behind your ears. “Hmm, wouldn’t you?”

You were too afraid to answer. But also too afraid to not answer. “I don’t know, my lord. I am afraid” you said truthfully.

“A surprising good answer, little one” as he caressed your hair. Despite your eyes being averted to the table, you felt him target you as if you were prey. “I like my Fremen scared for me. Men and women. All of them. I like all my subjects afraid of me.”

He saw you tensing up, and it delighted him. “What shall I do to you? You came so beautifully yesterday. Shall we see how often you can come until you die from coming too often?”

You squealed and looked at him with pure terror in your eyes.

“Or maybe just until you pass out. I don’t know whether you can come, knowing I want to fuck you to death. In my experience not a lot of women can deal with that, although those from Giedi Prime are better placed than those from this planet. I believe the upbringing here is just a bit too... soft, I would say. You Fremen lack a certain level of ruthlessness. You do not face reality. You are too committed to life and fail to see how death is part of it. You have not embraced death at all. While, it is just another step in life. A reset. A way of absolution for the past.”

You were left speechless. Part of you wanted to shout: ‘yes, because of all the hurt and torture you bring, it is fucking salvation.’ But you wisely kept that to yourself. You had no idea how this would end. If anything would end.

“Now, stand up and lay near the head of the bed. I am pleased with my marks on your neck, but I need to see those I left elsewhere.”

With a heavy heart you stood up and complied. There was no other option.

You heard his chair move, but you could not hear his footsteps. He had a way of walking silently if he wanted to, allowing him to attack whenever he wanted. You shuttered at the thought, you toes clenching while keeping your arms close to your torso.

However, where you had expected him to strike, push himself in your still sensitive pussy, or at least inflict some other form of pain, it appeared he had surprised you again. You felt his calloused hands softly petting the wounds on your behind. “It is so pretty. My marks on your body. Here, let me put some cream on that will help you heal quicker” he offered.

You tried to look up, but could not see him well. It looked like his face adorned with a grin, but that could not be the case as he sounded so understanding.

A bottle was opened, liquid was spread between his hands. He straddled you by sitting on your back, facing your feet. “This will only sting a little” he said to your surprise, simultaneously placing both hands on your buttocks.

‘Sting a little’ was an understatement. It burned. It felt like flesh was burning of your bones. You tried to buck, to get your behind away from his hands, to push yourself up and remove him, but his weight was positioned too well and you were too weakened to allow you to do that. He knew what he was doing. He was punishing you again.

“My lord, what have I done to deserve this? It hurts so much. Why? What have I done? Please, please, make it stop” you screamed.

He laughed, a sound so evil. “Don’t worry my dear. You look so beautiful with these injuries. I want you to remember me forever. To have a token of my mentorship. I want anyone who ever fucks you - if there will ever be another - to be forced to ask about this, to learn about me, to think about me, to know I was your first, to acknowledge that they will never fuck you as good as I did. That is a lesson you will learn, don’t worry. We still have time” as he spread the liquid over your wounds. “This potion will allow precious scars to develop.”

Pain had taken over, causing you to jerk your body involuntarily.

“Hush hush, it will only take a few moments. The pain will subdue, and you will be left with a glorious reminder” he said, almost sounding like he meant it. “Hush hush.”

Somehow, it was true. Slowly the stings reduced in intensity. In the back of your mind, you could not help but think he would not be doing this if he were to dispose of you and feed you to these so-called ‘darlings’ anytime soon. Another thought that shot through your head is that he may have been doing this to send a signal to any new joiners behind the closed adjacent doors.

“Now, where were we?” he asked.

A rhetorical question, you presumed.

You presumed incorrectly, as he hit you on the sensitive skin still trying to heal: “you will answer me when I ask a question” he growled.

“My lord. Uhm…” trying to gather your mind. “I believe you said you fuck me until the many orgasms would overtake my mind and render me unconscious” you responded with dread in your voice.

“That sounds about right. Turn around and spread your legs” he ordered. You complied. You always complied. “Let me see. How has your pussy been recouping from yesterday?” He went out to investigate the remnants of his own doings, his fingers pushing your outer folds apart, while he had placed himself on his sculpted torso in front of you. As you looked down on him, you saw him deliberately move his head in between your legs. Spreading them a bit wider to allow him the space to verify what he had left with the most sensitive part of his own body: his lips. A tongue ventured to observe to his insensitivities of the day before. It tended to all your folds, his saliva holding nourishing properties. Everything this man had to spill, apart from his harsh words, provided and replenished.

“You still hold me inside of you. I can still taste myself. Well done. The longer I stay in you, the better you can absorb me” were words of affirmation left his mouth, rebuilding your mind. “Let me heal you. You took quite a hit yesterday” he spoke, somehow sounding surprisingly sympathetic. Soon, after you spread your legs even further, his tongue found his way into you, while his lips removed the remnants of last night. You started to moan in response to his pioneering. The repetitive sucking, blowing and thrusting motions of this relentless man soon brought you to your first high of the day. The liquid you provided in response was devoured.

He placed his hands on your thighs to push them onto his still covered shoulders, as he threw himself in there again, his teeth gracing the most sensitive of your skin, grabbing and tugging whatever he could get his hands on. He pushed his tongue in further, causing you to grab the sheets and buck into his face. He sucked without forgiveness. He bit the most tender parts of your tender parts. A sensory overload causing you to inevitably arch your spine to seek relief. But he would not allow you. By now you knew that you would end up feeling much more worn than from the night before.

The lord na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was now focussed on just one thing: making you come so often you would faint.

By itself, your body decided it might just as well succumb to it, as this man was not known to fail.

Your legs could no longer hold it and wrapped themselves around his head as he continued to lapse and caress. Your height was imminent.

Or so you thought. Just as you were about to come, he closed his mouth and wrestled himself out of your grip. You scooted straight up, leaning on your elbows, to look at him with a defying combination of discontent and loss.

“When you arrived you nearly choked on the idea that I would fuck you. Yesterday, you tried your best to hide from me. What will it be today, little greedy Fremen toy? What will it be today?” he grimaced, baring his black teeth which were laced with your white liquid.

Doubt hit your mind on how to respond.

Doubt left your mind as you saw him lick his lips.

You knew.

You knew he needed you at this very moment just as much as you needed him.

So, you decided to play a little game. “My lord – you are not fucking me now so I will address you like this – my lord. I may prefer to be left trying to hide from you” with a smirk of you own.” To make your point, you closed your legs.

“Hmm, someone is getting a little insolent, I see” as he grabbed your knees and pushed them as far as he could. “Nobody keeps me away from this liquid if I desire it. Nobody prohibits me from any cunt I desire” diving into your pussy again.

The moment of rest intensified the inevitable orgasm, as you grabbed his bold head and tried to push it as deep as possible against your folds. He permitted you.

After you rode your waive, he lapsed one last time deep inside of you to collect whatever he could get, pushing one finger in to gather more. Sitting up straight, he made a display of sucking his finger and his lips.

He scooted back, off the bed, leaving you to wonder what would happen next.

“Keep your legs open” he growled, as he saw a first twitch in your thigh indicating what he wanted to prevent. “This entire night you will not cover my sight on your delightful cunt.”

“Yes, my lord” you said faithfully.

Standing at the end of the bed, he dropped his clothes with a smooth motion. You could not help but stare. This was the first time you saw him fully uncovered. He was magnificent. Not a place on his body left unsculpted. Not a scar on his frame. A single shade of paleness wrapping him. His potency proven by the gravity defying angle his cock was standing in.

Wrapping his hand around himself, he gave a few thrusts, while carrying a face with a sinister look on it. Why, you would never know. It only made him bigger and more difficult to accommodate. But accommodating, that is what you would be doing this night.

His knees hit the bed, slowly he moved towards you. Instinctively you scooted back. Your eyes must have flared up in fright as he suddenly lunged at you, grabbed your feet and dragged your body to be under his.

Him towering over you, he found your neck to bite while his legs found their place between yours. His tip found your entrance, causing you to gasp in anticipation for the thrust. The deep thrust. The painful thrust.

But again, the actions of this man would not be predicted. He just lingered there, ever so deliberately moving not further than perhaps a centimetre or so, and moving out again. He was hard enough to be able to hold himself, as his thumbs tilted your jaw to expose you.

Entering you ever so slightly, and exiting again. Not finding the entrance ever time, gracing your most sensitive bud in the process. Every now and then suggesting to thrust, hard, only to stroke your folds, find a path between them. He was in total control, over himself and everything around him.

Soon, he had found a rhythm that worked for you, and sticked to that rhythm. Unyielding. He would not give up until you had given him another peak. The necessary lubricant being supplied by your pussy, spread through the few small entrances he made, you would soon be gifting him what he desired, as you bucked and pushed yourself against him, feeling your folds surrounding his warm length.

He raised himself a little, to look down at you. Touching your hair, whispering in your ear: “you are so pretty if you do as I say.”

You huffed and bit your tongue. A response he accepted, considering how he now did what you had expected earlier. You squealed, knowing the persons behind the other doors would be able to hear you. You bucked your hips, as he tilted you just slightly. You wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck as you started to breath heavily into him. He knew how to bring you to another high with just a few well-placed powerful thrusts.

Having heard the dreadful stories of your Fremen sisters speaking about how their man could not bring them pleasure, you started to understand why he was being so boastful about his skills.

“You still have so much energy left in you. I first need to drain that” as he replaced his cock with his fingers inside of you and the thrashing balls with his tongue. It was too sensitive. You tried to push him away, but he was not having it. “Submit yourself to the pleasure” as he curled his fingers to find the spot deep inside of you to bring you yet another orgasm.

You just wanted to lay down, recoup. Fall asleep in this soft bed. But it was not up to you to decide. He grabbed you by the side and toppled you over, grabbed your breasts and pulled you to sit on your knees. “Hold on to the head of the bed” as he spread your legs, grabbed himself and pushed himself inside of you.

Obscenities left your mouth. Involuntary profanities. He was deep inside of you, filling you completely. Touching every sensitive part. While holding on for dear life, you knew he was still not going at full power nor speed. You felt his hips slam against your buttocks. You wanted to cry. You wanted to fall down. You wanted to sleep. You wanted to rest. You wanted to have all the impulses removed. You wanted him to go away yet never leave you.

He moved his hands from your breasts to your pussy where he could feel himself inside of you. They moved to your shoulders as he kept you in place. He did not even move that much; the depth ranged from deep to very deep. It was one plateau of height, where you could not recognise the beginning nor the end.

You were done. You had already been done for a while. But he wasn’t. He had not yet reached any of his goals.

The grip to the board diminishing, you faltered. You fell to your chest as your hands were not stable enough to catch you. He continued. He did not miss a beat, as he continued to thrust into you.

Your legs were wasted, not providing enough counterweight to his actions, and soon you lay on your stomach, where he continued. Not changing his speed or the power behind his movements. Monotone, directly touching the buds of pleasure you held within your core.

He continued. And continued. And continued. Over and over and over again. Your walls clenching around him as he continued. More resilient than your mind was. It was still all a new experience, yet you started to fail to register what was happening.

Whether it was due to the continuous high, the repeated pushes on your body digging your face deeper into the matrass preventing you from breathing deeply, or simply being overcome by everything that had happened over the last weeks. You did not know.

+++

You did know, after you woke up, that you were back in your room, which was tidied up. New bedding was placed, more food was put on the table and a fresh set of clothes, several even, were placed on one of the chairs. You even found some books placed next to the bed.

You were wearing clothes. Clothes were nothing like you had worn before. But you recognised from the first day you set foot into this palace that this was what Harkonnen servants wore.

Your fold were sensitive and wet. Your fingers showing proof of the na-Baron having reached his own high deep inside of you.

Many rewards were bestowed upon you. Apparently, you had pleased him.

+++

Over the coming weeks you were kept in the room, only to be released when he took you to his own bedroom. After such trips, you would find your room cleaned up, food and drinks refilled, and sometimes you would get new books or even a game to play. Never though, not once, did you notice any person slipping into your room.

He would not visit you every day, but every time he did, the same process ensued: you emptied him on your knees and he rewarded you. Either with food, a cleanse, a fuck, or even a mere conversation. Food would never be presented without you having seen him. Subconsciously you started to associate his presence and satisfaction with your survival.

You basked in each reward.

Seeing him train was even a gift. Even hearing sloppy sounds and sounds of pain and death coming from his room gave you positive feelings, as you knew he meant to send a message to you. He was thinking of you.

The days that you did not see him, the nights, they were dark. The days graced by his presence were light.

Time started to pass in a blur.

+++

One night, the na-Baron came into your room, slow enough to allow you to present yourself in the desired position.

“Today, I have a gift for you, if you obey nicely. Perhaps a few” he spoke. You smiled with anticipation, as he uncovered his cock and presented it to you to lick.

+++

[Link to chapter 3 / 3 - Punish me (part 3 of 3): the story on how you became one of Feyd-Rautha’s concubines]

@kasagia - thanks for the suggestions and inspiration!

#feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha #feral for feyd #feyd #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha imagine #feyd supremacy #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x you #feyd x reader #feyd rautha x you #degradation k1nk #degrading k1nk #corruption kink #toxic

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