#best small army in the world

[jessyka-fitness]

13 Platoon Enlisting in the Australian Army Kapooka | What is your last Civilian meal?

13 Platoon Enlisting in the Australian Army Kapooka | What is your last Civilian meal? Your Not Alone simply change your Online Name to an Alias, put your Enlistment Date and month in comments and there you go see who else is going to be sharing the bus ride with you to the next phase of your life at Kapooka the Home of the Australian Soldier. We did this last year and it was successful and gave…

[aspiringwarriorlibrarian]

You know, it's kinda funny how much of high fantasy centers around kings and nobility and courtly intrigue considering that the archetypal high fantasy, Lord of the Rings, had the rather explicit moral of "saving the world is up to this backwater hick and his gardener because no politician, least of all inherited nobility, would have the ability to see past their own ambition and throw away a weapon". Oh sure, Aragorn is a great king and all, but there's a reason he's over there running a distraction ring while the hobbits do the real work. Sauron loses because he gets distracted by kings and armies and great battles (i.e. typical high fantasy stuff) letting Frodo and Sam sneak through his back door and blow it all to hell.

Just saying, maybe old Jirt knew what he was saying when he said that the small folk doing their best and holding to each other was more powerful than a dozen alliances and superweapons and we should respect him for it.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic Idea: New Money

The ghost zone doesn't have a formal form of currency. Depending on which part of the zone one is in, a trade could be made, or a Deal can be struck, but coins can rarely, if ever, be exchanged.

Every subculture that forms in the zone can eventually develop its own currency, but it will only have value within its territory. An example would be the credit crystals that the Far Frozen have developed, with a corresponding amount of funds floating inside their iced rocks. Still, if a Yeti were to travel even a foot outside their snowy mountains, the stones would become an interesting clothing choice and nothing else.

Ghosts value emotions more than any amount of gold or coin. Oftentimes, the most powerful of ecto beings would battle it out if a child's favorite teddy bear somehow found its way into the zone, though the thin cracks between worlds or an entire army of ghost mercenaries could be bought with a single pair of favorited socks.

It may not seem as much to the living, but to ghosts who could see the attachment embedded into the item, it meant everything. Some emotions could even be eaten off of the items if they were fresh enough, and while it did give a power boost, most of the time, the emotions were positive.

If a negative emotion was eaten, Ghosts could quickly become addicted to it, and when cut off from the negative emotion, they could soon fall apart in seconds.

Spectra was a famous example used in the zone as a precautionary tale for all new ghosts. Her beauty and power were only a facade to her desperation for angst emotions, and she flouted about the Zone, always on the hunt for her next fix.

It was pretty sad to see.

A few ghosts did their best to limit additions, such as Walker, who established himself a section of the zone using his great sense of justice that he had died with. He found human contraband that came into the zone unnaturally, sealing them away in his haunt.

These items usually had lickings of anxiety, desperation, or even fear attached to them and could quickly turn any ghost into a violent sort.

Walker's mission since his creation was to limit this exposal. He even arrested various ghosts that went to the human world through unnatural means, a majority coming back contaminated with human emotions and becoming a danger to fellow ghosts.

Most of these ghosts had items on them that were deemed worthless once all emotion was sucked out. Walker usually had his men take them to the Dump.

The Dump in the Ghost Zone was an extensive collection of worthless items gathered at the far right. It was known as a neutral section of the Zone, as every civilization and haunt often traveled there to eliminate clutter. Everything unwanted usually finds its way to the Dump.

Danny, after having a trial with Walker and coming to the understanding that he was not, in fact, attempting to make his fellow Ghosts addicted to anger- cause apparently a majority of Walker's prisoners were in there because of their exposal to Danny!- he was directed to the Dump to rid of his worthless ripped bag.

Danny had flown there expecting mountains and mountains of garbage. What he found instead were islands made entirely of gold. He flouted over the piles and piles of jewels, gold coins, random bills, and valuable items, gaping at the long collection that went further than his eye could see.

"What is all of this?" He gasps just as Box Ghost floats by carrying a jewelry box. He flips it open and shakes out a necklace with a diamond as large as Danny's palm onto the pile of jewelry. He gives Danny a friendly wave when they make eye contact.

He proudly flouts over to Danny, taking the neutral status of the Dump to heart. No fighting was allowed in this territory, much like Truce Day; all ghosts abided by this rule.

"The Box Ghost was lucky to be near a natural portal leading to the Human world's sea. This small rectangular object was once beloved by a grandmother, and now it is all mine!" He cheers, holding the jewelry box, practically half rotted and dripping wet over his head. A faint, gentle green glow surrounded it.

Danny blinks, pointing down at the necklace. "What about that? Aren't you going to keep it?"

"The Box Ghost has no need for useless stones!" The floating man even sticks his tongue to the necklace that could pay for Danny's college education (If it were real).

Only half joking, Danny asks, "Can I have it then?"

Box Ghost blinks, then gestures to the mountains and mountains of wealth. "If the Ghost Child wishes for a garage, he can take whatever he likes. No one will mind. Though, why would you waste time on soulless items? Box Ghost can not be sure!"

Box Ghost flies away laughing as if Danny was the one to mock for wanting a diamond necklace. He watches the ghost go before turning back to the mountains and mountains of shimmering gold.

Deciding to fly through the Dump to see what else he can find, Danny begins exploring- but not before taking the necklace- and later comes upon an island dedicated to various human clothing that looked like it came from hundreds of eras. He finds himself dressing up like a Lord of Old for fun when he happens upon leather bags.

Seeing as no one was there to stop him, Danny filled up each bag with chains and jewels, flying home in his new get up. He figured he could use some of the funds even if the gold was fake.

_____________________________________________________________

Oliver Queen is new money. His wealth came from only three generations ago, and while that is rather impressive, it held no candle to families like the Waynes.

The Waynes were old money, and their galas showed it. Every time old Brucie called him to celebrate, Oliver went along only to keep his company board happy.

They couldn't afford to offend one of their most prominent investors even if there were no thoughts behind Bruce Wayne's eyes. Oliver would have enjoyed himself more at these parties- if there was one thing Bruce Wayne knew how to do: throw a fantastic party- but sadly, he had to deal with the other old-money people who attended Bruce's parties.

The passive aggression reminders that he would never been on their level, the choking humiliation, the constant looking down on him. Well, it got exhausting. Especially since Oliver spent so much of his free time fighting for justice and trying to make the world a better place. These people talked and acted like they were above it all.

Like nothing could touch them, even when a majority of them were the cause for so much darkness, Oliver faced as Green Arrow.

He needed a stronger drink.

"Rather self-important for new money, isn't he?" A woman whispers loudly, mocking in every inch of her tone. Oliver's eyebrow twitches as he drowns his glass. He turns towards the voice, somewhat ready to cause a scene so he can go home, but it is a surprise to find that the gossiping woman isn't facing him

Rather, they are turned towards a young man, likely late teens, who is currently piling his plate high with sweets. The boy glances in the woman's direction before snorting unattractively and adding more to his plate.

Oliver is mildly impressed that he could make the woman flush with rage without saying anything. He had never seen the kid before, but he almost looked like a new Wayne with his dark hair and sparkling blue eyes.

He finds his feet walking towards the teenager before he can think about it. Something interesting may be at this gala after all.

"Hey, you seemed to really like fudge. Have you tried the raspberry ones? It's the best." He starts gesturing to a familiar chef's name in front of a chocolate tray. He had a sample of their work only a week ago when Batman brought some to the Watch Tower.

It was absolutely heaven.

The teen considered the pink color fudge before he took three cudes. With his bare hands. Well. New money, indeed.

"Thanks!" The boy chirps after stuffing one in his mouth and savoring the flavor.

"You're welcome. My son, Roy, really likes it too." He smiles as the boy glances towards where his adoptive son is currently chatting with Jason Todd. Those two find themselves attached to the hip whenever there is a gala. Maybe Roy will bring him home for the holidays soon. "I'm Oliver Queen, owner of Queen Industries."

"Danny Fenton," The boy responds slightly hesitantly. "Do all rich people do that? Add what makes them rich to their inductions?"

Oliver snorts, "Only the real tacky ones."

"Okay, Mr. Owner of Queen Industries."

Oh Oliver like this kid. He grins, ignoring the jab. "And what about you? What made you rich enough to be here to tonight."

The kid's eyes gain a certain glint of humor as he shrugs. "One man's trash is another man's treasure."

Oliver moves to ask what he means, but Brucie shows up then, and he can't find a way out of the conversation. He's buttering up to the big idiot, knowing he lost sight of the strange boy.

Afterward, Oliver looks into Danny Fenton, only to find that the boy somehow appears out of nowhere with billions of dollars but no known source of where he got them. It also seems Batman was already on the case, assuming the boy was counterfeiting somehow, but Oliver didn't get that sense from the kid.

Something wasn't adding up about the boy, but he didn't think it was illegal. He just had to convince the big bad bat of that. If only it could be as easy as convincing Bruce Wayne to spend millions of dollars.

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Survivor - Zombie Apocalypse Au

Yandere! Survivor who's at ground zero when the infected start attacking. Who watches the world turn to chaos in the blink of an eye.

Yandere! Survivor who's willing to face off against hordes of infected because he wants to live. Even if the grisly horror of it turns his stomach.

Yandere! Survivor who knows there isn't hope for anything. The army is scattered and helpless. The cities are overrun. The people don't have a chance in hell.

Yandere! Survivor who knows but fights anyway.

Yandere! Survivor who saves you from a whole pack of infected. Who can't belive his eyes when he sees you. The city is overrun with freaks and you're still wearing a pretty little sundress, not a single weapon in sight.

Yandere! Survivor who stands frozen when you hug him. Who can feel the way you're trembling, your fingers knotted into his shirt. Who finds his voice and promises to keep you safe. Somehow.

Yandere! Survivor who fights tooth and nail to get you out of the city. Who scavenges guns and ammo off dead soldiers and tries not to look into their milky, rotting eyes.

Yandere! Survivor who finally has someone to look out for and it makes the loneliness much more bearable.

Yandere! Survivor who gets stronger each day. Who can feel his muscles literally straining against his shirt.

Yandere! Survivor who tries to teach you self defence and fails miserably, because every time he has you pinned under him he can't help but get turned on.

Yandere! Survivor who inspects the hem of your sundress and let's his knuckles brush against your thighs. Who scoffs and tells you its way too flimsy to keep you safe, that a zombie could bite straight through it.

"Hell, I could rip it off without even trying."

Yandere! Survivor who loves how helpless and scared you are. Who feels a rush of pride every time a zombie shrieks and you immediately grab onto him.

Yandere! Survivor who quickly learns to trade with other survivors but to never let his guard down.

Yandere! Survivor who notices the way men stare at you. Like they're dying for a taste of you even worse than the zombies are. Who notices the way people talk about you like you belong to him.

'Your girl.'

Like you're his property or something.

Yandere! Survivor who feels a rush of pride every time it happens. And soon he starts thinking that way too. You're his responsibility therefore you are his.

Yandere! Survivor who never settles down or allies himself with other people. He doesn't trust them. But more than that, he doesn't trust them around you.

Yandere! Survivor who finds it easier and easier to kill the infected. And from there, it's just a small step to start killing the living.

Yandere! Survivor who slits the throats of an entire trading party because he heard them talking about you. In the morning, he tells you they just left early and that it's nothing to worry about.

Yandere! Survivor who doesn't let your disappointment linger when you have to leave camp and move on. Who constantly reminds you he's doing what's best for you.

Yandere! Survivor who insists on being with you when you bath in the rivers and lakes that dot the countryside. He'll keep his back turned for most of it, but inevitably he'll find an excuse to turn around and watch you. Your clothes always cling to you afterwards and he's throat always goes dry when they do.

Yandere! Survivor who takes any chance he can to share a bunk or sleeping bag with you. Who tosses his arm around your waist and tells you it's just to conserve heat.

Yandere! Survivor who knows there isn't a future for the world, but he'll be damned if he can't see one with you.

[stephobrien]

Is your pro-Palestine activism hurting innocent people? Here's how to avoid that.

Note: If you prefer plain text, you can read the plain text version here.

Over the last few days, I’ve had conversations with several Jewish people who told me how hurt and scared they are right now.

To my great regret, some of that pain came from a poorly-thought-out post of mine, which – while not ill-intentioned – WAS hurtful.

And a lot of it came from cruelty they’d experienced at the hands of people who claim to be advocating for Palestine, but are using the very real plight of innocent Palestinians to harm equally innocent Jewish people.

Y’all, we need to do better. (Yes, “we” definitely includes me; this is in no small part a “learn from my fail” post, and also a “making amends” post. Some of these are mistakes I’ve made in the past.)

So if you’re an advocate for Palestine who wants to make sure that your defense of one group of vulnerable people doesn’t harm another, here are some important things to do or keep in mind:

Ask yourself if you’re applying a standard to one group that you aren’t applying to another.

Would you want all white Americans or Canadians to be expelled from America or Canada?

Do you want all Jewish people to be expelled from Israel, as opposed to finding a way to live alongside Palestinian Arabs in peace?

If the answer to those two questions is different, ask yourself WHY.

Do you want to be held responsible for the actions of your nation’s army or government? No? Then don’t hold innocent Jewish people, or Israelis in general (whether Jewish or otherwise), responsible for the actions of the Israeli army and government.

On that subject, be wary of condemning all Israeli people for the actions of the IDF. Large-scale tactical decisions are made by the top brass. Service is compulsory, and very few can reasonably get out of service.

Blaming all Israelis for the military’s actions is like blaming all Vietnam vets for the horrors in Vietnam. They’re not calling the shots. They aren’t Nazis running concentration camps. They are carrying out military operations that SHOULD be criticized.

And do not compare them or ANY JEWISH PERSON to Nazis in general. It is Jewish cultural trauma and not outsiders’ to use against them.

Don’t infuse legitimate criticism with antisemitism.

By all means, spread the word about the crimes committed by the Israeli army and government, and the complicity of their allies. Criticize the people responsible for committing and enabling atrocities.

But if you imply that they’re committing those crimes because they’re Jewish, or because Jewish people have special privileges, then you’re straying into antisemitic territory.

Criticize the crime, not the group. If you believe that collective punishment is wrong, don’t do it yourself.

And do your best to use words that apply directly to the situation, rather than the historical terms for situations with similar features. For example, use “segregation,” “oppression,” or “subjugation,” not “Holocaust” or “Jim Crow.” These other historical events are not the cultural property of Jews OR Palestinians, but also have their own nuances and struggles and historical contexts.

Also, blaming other world events on Jewish people or making Jewish people associated with them (for instance, some people falsely blame Jewish people for the African slave trade) is a key feature of how antisemitism functions.

Please, by all means, be specific and detailed in your critiques. But keep them focused on the current political actors – not other peoples’ or nations’ political or cultural histories and traumas.

Be prepared to accept criticism.

You probably already know that society is infused with a wide array of bigotries, and that people growing up in that environment tend to absorb those beliefs without even realizing it. Antisemitism is no exception.

What that means is, there’s a very real chance that you will screw up, and get called out on it, as I so recently did.

If that happens, please be willing to learn and adapt. If you can educate yourself about the suffering and needs of Palestinians, you can do the same for Jewish people.

Understand that the people you hurt aren’t obligated to baby you. Give them room to be angry.

After I made a post that inadvertently hurt people, some were nice about it, and others weren’t. Some outright insulted my morals and intelligence.

And I had to accept that I’d earned that from them.

I’d hurt them, and they weren’t obligated to be more careful with my feelings than I had been with theirs.

They weren’t obligated to forgive me, trust me, or stop being mad at me right away.

I’ll admit, there were moments when I got defensive. I shouldn’t have. And I encourage you to try not to, if you screw up and hurt people.

I know that’s hard, but it’s important. Getting defensive only tells people you care more about doubling down on your mistake than you do about healing the hurt it caused.

Instead, acknowledge that they have a right to be angry, apologize for the way you hurt them, and try to make amends, while understanding that they don’t owe you trust or forgiveness.

Be aware that some antisemites are using legitimate complaints to “Trojan horse” antisemitism into leftist spaces.

This is a really easy stumbling block to trip over, because most people probably don’t look at every post a creator makes before sharing the one they’re looking at right now.

I recently shared a video that called out some of the Likud and IDF’s atrocities and hypocrisy, and that also noted that many Jewish people are wonderful members of their communities.

I was later informed that, while that video in particular seemed reasonable, the creator behind it is frequently antisemitic.

I deleted the post, and blocked the creator. I encourage you to do the same if it’s brought to your attention that you’ve been ‘Trojan horse’d.

EDIT: Important note about antisemitism in leftist spaces:

While it's true that some blatant antisemites are using seemingly reasonable posts to get their foot in the door of leftist spaces, it's also true that a lot of antisemitism already exists inside those spaces.

This antisemitism is often dressed up in progressive-sounding language, but nonetheless singles Jewish people and places out in ways that aren't applied equally to other groups, or that label Jewish people in ways that portray them as acceptable targets.

If you want to see some specific examples, so you can have a better idea of what to keep an eye out for, I suggest reading this excellent reblog of this post.

Fact-check your doubts about antisemitism.

Depending on which parts of the internet you look at, you’ve probably seen people accused of antisemitism because they complained about the Likud and/or IDF’s actions. So you might be primed to be wary, or feel unsure of how to tell what counts as real antisemitism.

But that doesn’t mean antisemitism isn’t a very real, widespread, and harmful problem. And it doesn’t mean many or even most Jewish people are lying to you or being overly sensitive.

So if someone says something is antisemitic, and you aren’t sure, I encourage you to:

A. Look up the action or thing in question, including its history. Is there an antisemitic history or connotation you aren’t aware of? For best results, include “antisemitic” in your search query, in quotes.

B. Understand that some things, while not inherently antisemitic, have been used by antisemites often enough that Jewish people are understandably wary of them. Schrodinger’s antisemitism, if you will.

C. Ask Jewish people WHO HAVE OFFERED TO HELP EDUCATE YOU. Emphasis on WHO HAVE OFFERED. Random Jewish people aren’t obligated to give you their time and emotional energy, or to educate you – especially on subjects that are scary or painful for them.

@edenfenixblogs has kindly offered her inbox to those who are genuinely trying to learn and do better, and I’ve found her to be very kind, patient, reasonable, and fair-minded.

Understand that this is URGENTLY NEEDED.

In one of my conversations with a Jewish person who’d called me out, they said this was the most productive conversation they’d had with a person with a Palestinian flag in their profile.

THIS IS NOT OKAY.

I didn’t do anything special. All I did was listen, apologize for my mistakes, and learn.

Yes, it feels good to be acknowledged. But I feel like I’ve been praised for peeing IN the toilet, instead of beside it.

Apologizing, learning, and making amends after you hurt people shouldn’t be “the most reasonable thing I’ve heard from a person with a Palestinian flag pfp.”

It should be BASIC DECENCY.

And the fact that it’s apparently so uncommon should tell you how much unnecessary stress and fear Jewish people have been living with because of people who consider themselves defenders of human rights.

By all means, be angry at the Likud, the IDF, and the politicians, reporters, and specific media outlets who choose to enable and cover up for them.

But direct that anger toward the people who deserve it and are in a position to do something about it, not random people who simply happen to be Jewish, or who don’t want millions of people to be turned into refugees when less violent methods of achieving freedom and rights for Palestinians are available.

Stop peeing beside the toilet, people.

[sansaorgana]

— FORBIDDEN FRUIT

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

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

REQUEST — (1) // (2)

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

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

WORD COUNT — 13,560 (🤡)

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me go!” You protested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were a war prize.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And every power came with a sacrifice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-yes, my Lord,” you nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bred?” You swallowed thickly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Rabban,” Feyd barked at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?” You asked.

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

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

MASTERLIST

[cjlouwho]

Prompt: Everyone knows that Tommy is a pushover for Buck's 🥺 eyes (it's a running joke for the 118/217), but when Tommy gets upset and is very quietly 🥺, Buck is shocked by how completely and utterly insane he goes to make Tommy feel better.

(bonus points if it's a completely dumb reason, like Tommy's run out of ice cream or something and it's just A Bad Day)

A little silly, a little serious, I hope you enjoy!

One of the many things Buck loved about his and Tommy's relationship is that he got to see a side of Tommy that no one else saw. He got to see many sides of Tommy that no one else saw, actually.

While everyone got a piece of calm, cool, and collected Thomas Kinard, Buck got all that and everything in between.

He saw him on his best days, his worst days, goofy days, sick days, horny days, tired days, all the days! He often thought of making a list of all the things people would be surprised to know about Tommy. He'd never share it, of course, but it'd be nice for him to have.

Like, how Tommy was ticklish only on his right side. And when he got tickled, he didn't do his normal laugh. Instead it was a high pitched giggle with a snort.

Or, how Tommy was super proud of the fact he knew every single word to We Didn't Start the Fire and he felt the need to sing it at the top of his lungs at least once a week.

How he loved human connection, but hated being touched by strangers. He'd hug a friend all night long if you needed it, but if he didn't know you please keep your hands to yourself.

How he liked tomatoes on cold sandwiches, but never on toasted ones.

How he loved when Buck would sit on the countertop and kiss him because it made him feel smaller, and he loved feeling small and protected in Evan's arms.

How his voice got deeper during sex. Whether he was inside Buck or Buck was inside him, his voice would always get all gravely and deep in a way that sent shivers down Buck's spine.

Maybe one of the biggest ones was how Tommy was not always the stoic, perfectly poised man as he presented himself to the world.

Tommy could get emotional. Emotional in a way that was usually reserved for movies written by men about women during their period.

Buck was thrown off by it the first time it happened. He almost thought it was a joke, until he saw the tears in Tommy's eyes as he mourned the fact he was out of whipped cream.

Then it was just heartbreaking.

It didn't happen often. A series of bad events throughout the day would build up in his body and brain until the smallest inconvenience caused him to fall apart.

They'd talked about it before. Tommy had grown up having to hold in his thoughts and feelings. They'd build and build until he'd do something erratic or harmful. Then he joined the army, and those emotions would build up the same way. Being in the army itself was a bit erratic and harmful, so he didn't have the best coping skills.

It wasn't until he started therapy, and his therapist helped him realize that he needed to let himself feel whatever he was feeling that he slowly and gradually became better at opening up.

However, there were still days where he felt the need to let everything build. Build and build until he burst. Except, now days, instead of becoming erratic or harmful, his eyes would well up and his lip would come out in a pout, and Buck would feel the need to move heaven and earth to make it all better.

Buck knew something was off as soon as he got home from work. Tommy was already there in the garage, half bent over his truck as he worked on the engine.

Buck let out a whistle. “What a view,” he teased.

Tommy glanced back at him, gave him a half smile before focusing back on his truck. “Hey, Baby. I ordered dinner. Should be in before it gets here.”

To anyone else, that might seem like a regular conversation. To Buck, it was the exact opposite. Normal Tommy would make some teasing comment right back, letting Buck know what he was seeing was just a preview of what was to come.

This... This was the start of an emotional night.

*****

Dinner was fairly quiet, with Buck leading most of the conversation. He knew not to ask questions yet. If he did it too soon, Tommy would completely shut down and it would take even longer to get any information out of him. As much as Buck hated it, this had to play out a certain way.

Luckily, he was fluent in Tommy.

It was a little after dinner, once Buck had settled in the living room, that it began.

“Evan?” Tommy called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“Is... Did you put my ice cream in a different spot?”

“No, it's-” Buck froze, thinking back to two nights ago. Jee had come over and wanted a treat. She ended up eating the last of Tommy's favorite birthday cake ice cream. He knew that, on a regular day, Tommy wouldn't care that it was gone.

He also knew today wasn't a regular day.

“I think it's all gone, Babe,” he said cautiously as he got up from the couch and headed into the kitchen.

“Oh. Okay.”

He wasn't angry. He never got angry over little things like that.

He was sad. Resigned to the fact he would not be getting any of his favorite ice cream tonight.

Buck often felt like it'd be a lot easier if he just got angry.

He made it into the kitchen just as Tommy closed the freezer door. His face downcast, he glanced up at Buck through his eyelashes, eyes wide and wet. His bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly before he turned away from Buck and headed for the pantry.

“I'll have cookies instead,” he said with a sniff.

Buck got out his phone and pressed a few buttons before stuffing it back into his pocket and walking over to Tommy.

“Honey, why don't we just go sit down for a minute?”

“I just...” His shoulders sagged. “I really don't want cookies.”

Gently, Buck placed his hands on Tommy's back, nudging him until he could lead him toward the living room. “Why don't we go sit on the couch, okay?”

Tommy simply nodded, but Buck could see him lift a hand to his face and wipe a tear off his cheek.

The thing was, Buck knew he could be a handful sometimes. He was bratty, pouty, stubborn, and jealous. And Tommy accepted all of that. Not just accepted it, loved it. He loved every part of Buck, even the parts Buck didn't love himself.

Buck also knew Tommy would do anything for him. Would drop whatever he was doing and run to Buck's side the second he got a call. Would wait on him hand and foot. He spoiled Buck rotten, and everyone knew it.

There weren't as many opportunities for Buck to reciprocate that level of love and support. But when these days came along, that what's Buck's time to shine. He hated to see Tommy like this, but loved that he could be there for him. Loved that he could help him through it. So that's what he did.

They got situated, Buck leaning against the arm rest with his legs sprawled out on the couch. He pulled Tommy down so his back rested against Buck's chest. Buck wrapped his arms around him, hands meeting just over his heart. Tommy's hands drifted up and latched onto Buck's, holding tight.

“Why don't you tell me about work?” Buck asked, pressing a kiss to the top of Tommy's head. Things had been fine before they left for work the previous morning, so something had to have happened during their shift.

“I only had two calls.”

“And?”

“And the first one was a drunk driver. It was noon, Evan. Noon.”

“Casualties?”

Tommy shook his head. “No, but a young girl got hit. Spinal injury. She probably won't walk again.”

Now Buck had a starting point.

“After that?”

Tommy's body tensed so Buck squeezed him tighter. “The new probie, Jenkins, did something stupid and pissed me off.”

“What'd he do?”

“Doesn't matter.”

“If it pissed you off, it matters.”

“He's one of those religious types that carries pamphlets in their pockets,” Tommy explained. “I guess he overheard me talking about you- about us- a few weeks ago so he gifted me a pamphlet today.”

Buck knew where this was going. “You're kidding me?”

“I wish. It was some Adam and Eve crap, not even original. It reminded me of my dad. He... He used to say things like that. Anyway, I threw the pamphlet away without reading it.”

“Good for you.”

Tommy shifted slightly, tangling his and Buck's legs together. “The only thing that kept running through my mind was how we watched a little girl's life change forever, she will never walk again, and all Jenkins was thinking about was turning me straight.”

Buck brought a hand to Tommy's hair, carefully running his fingers through it. “I'm sorry, Tommy.”

“My aunt texted me too. Wanted me to come to the next family reunion.”

“Are you gonna go?”

“I told her I'd have a plus one and she... she said she doesn't wanna hear my dad complain for an entire weekend. I was quickly uninvited.”

Buck took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I- If you wanna go-”

“There's not a single part of me that wants to be there, especially without you. I'm good.”

“If you're sure.”

“I'm sure.”

“What about your truck?” Buck asked. “You were working on it when I got home.”

“Oh. That.” Tommy rolled his eyes. “That was the icing on the cake. Engine light came on in the middle of my drive home. I think I fixed the problem for now, but I'm gonna need a new engine soon. Everything just fell apart today, Evan, I- sorry.”

“You don't need to be sorry.” Just then the doorbell rang and Buck gave Tommy a pat on the shoulder. “You do need to get the door though. It's for you.”

Tommy sat up, eyebrows furrowing at Buck before he got up and headed for the door.

About thirty seconds later, he was back with a paper bag in hand. His eyes were soft and tear-filled, but not with sadness this time. “You ordered my ice cream?”

Buck nodded, giving him a smile. “Of course I did.”

Tommy set the bag down and walked over to Buck, kneeling beside the couch and resting his head on Evan's lap. He wrapped his arms around Evan's waist the best he could, his face pressed against Evan's stomach. “I love you so much.”

After a few seconds, Buck stroked his thumb over Tommy's cheek. “Come here,” he said softly, pulling him up for a chaste kiss. “I love you too.”

[97linelover]

Cafe near the base - Jjk

summary: having a small little café near the army base was nothing special, but what if one day a special someone walks in?

content: Idol Jungkook x non Idol reader, fight,angst, happy end,fluff, drama, café setting, fight mentions, discussions

a/n: something about Military Jungkook makes me uuugghhh... I want him.

Y/N wiped her hands on her apron, the smell of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the faint hum of chatter in her cozy café. Nestled near the outskirts of the city, just a short distance from the military base, her café had become a quiet retreat for soldiers and locals alike. She had inherited the place from her late grandfather, who always said, “A warm cup can heal a cold soul.” It was her sanctuary—and, unknowingly, about to become someone else’s.

The bell above the door jingled, signaling a new customer. Y/N glanced up from the counter to see a young man in a plain black hoodie, his dark hair falling over his eyes. He moved with quiet confidence, but there was something unassuming about him that made her immediately feel at ease.

“Welcome,” she said with a small smile. “What can I get you?”

The man looked at the menu board for a moment before responding in a deep, smooth voice. “Just an Americano, please.”

“Coming right up.”

She set to work, glancing at him briefly. He was undeniably handsome, but she didn’t recognize him. To her, he was just another soldier from the base—someone seeking a moment of peace away from their rigorous routines.

He took a seat by the window, his gaze wandering outside. The way he seemed lost in thought piqued her curiosity, but she didn’t want to intrude. When she brought him his coffee, he looked up and offered a faint smile.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“You’re welcome. First time here?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Just transferred to the base recently. Thought I’d explore the area.”

“Well, welcome to the neighborhood,” she replied warmly. “This place might not look like much, but I promise we have the best coffee around.”

He chuckled, and for a moment, Y/N thought she saw a flash of something—relief? Gratitude?—in his eyes.

“I can tell,” he said, taking a sip. “It’s good.”

From that day, he started coming in regularly. Sometimes he’d sit and read, other times he’d sketch in a small notebook he always carried. He introduced himself simply as Jungkook, and Y/N didn’t pry further. He seemed to enjoy the anonymity her café offered, and she liked the calm presence he brought.

As weeks passed, their conversations grew longer. They talked about everything from their favorite childhood memories to dreams they hadn’t yet chased. Y/N found herself drawn to him—not just his looks, but the quiet depth he carried, like he was hiding a world she couldn’t quite see.

One evening, as the café neared closing time, Jungkook stayed behind to help her clean up. They worked side by side in comfortable silence until he suddenly spoke.

“Do you ever feel like… you want to escape your own life for a while?”

Y/N paused, the question catching her off guard. “I think everyone feels that way sometimes. Why? Do you?”

He hesitated, his eyes searching hers. “Maybe... There’s a lot of pressure in my… job. Sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe.”

Y/N frowned, her heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. “You can always breathe here,” she said gently.

Jungkook smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks, Y/N. That means more than you know.”

What Y/N didn’t know was that the man sweeping her café floor and laughing at her terrible jokes was none other than Jeon Jungkook—the world-famous singer from BTS. The military transfer was a cover for his enlistment, and her café had become his refuge from the spotlight.

As they grew closer, Jungkook found himself torn. He wanted to tell her the truth, but he feared it would change everything. For once, someone saw him as just Jungkook—not the global sensation, not the idol, but a person. And he wasn’t ready to let that go.

One late afternoon, as the golden light spilled through the windows, Y/N handed him a steaming cup of coffee. “You’re kind of mysterious, you know that?” she teased.

“Am I?” he asked, his lips quirking into a small grin.

“Yeah. But I like it. Makes me want to figure you out.”

Jungkook’s chest tightened. He realized then that he’d found something rare in Y/N: a connection untouched by fame or expectations. But the longer he kept his secret, the more he feared what would happen when she discovered who he really was.

For now, he chose to savor the moments—the sound of her laughter, the warmth of her smile, the way her presence made him feel like he could finally breathe.

Over the weeks, Y/N and Jungkook fell into an easy rhythm. Morning coffee runs turned into lingering afternoons, and eventually, late evenings spent talking until the stars dotted the sky. Jungkook began helping her in the café when it got busy, claiming he enjoyed the distraction. Y/N didn’t protest—she liked having him there.

What started as casual conversations about coffee or books had evolved into something much deeper. She found herself laughing more, smiling wider, and looking forward to every moment they spent together. Jungkook’s presence felt like a warm embrace, and though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, there was something about him that made her feel safe.

One Saturday, as the sun dipped behind the mountains near the base, Jungkook arrived at the café with a friend. The man was shorter, with a bright smile that could light up the room and a laugh that seemed to ripple effortlessly through the air.

“Y/N, this is Jimin,” Jungkook introduced him, looking both amused and slightly exasperated as Jimin practically ran up to her.

“Hi!” Jimin greeted warmly. “I’ve heard so much about you. I just had to see this café that Jungkook never stops talking about.”

Y/N blushed under his cheerful gaze, glancing at Jungkook, who rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “Oh, really? I hope it lives up to the hype.”

“It already does,” Jimin said, spinning in a slow circle to take it all in. “I mean, the smell of coffee, the cozy vibe—it’s perfect. No wonder he’s always here.”

“Jimin,” Jungkook muttered, clearly embarrassed, though Y/N noticed the soft fondness in his tone.

The three of them ended up sitting at one of the corner tables after closing. Jimin’s infectious energy filled the room as he teased Jungkook and made Y/N laugh until her stomach hurt. It was the first time she’d seen Jungkook so relaxed, his usual quietness giving way to bursts of laughter and playful jabs at Jimin.

As the evening stretched on, Jimin leaned toward Y/N and said with a wink, “You’ve got no idea how much this guy talks about you at the base. It’s kind of sickening, honestly.”

“Jimin!” Jungkook groaned, his face turning red as Y/N’s eyes widened.

“Oh, come on, Kook,” Jimin said with a laugh. “You’re practically glowing every time you come back from this place.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile, her heart fluttering. She glanced at Jungkook, who avoided her gaze but couldn’t hide the small, shy smile playing on his lips.

After Jimin left, the two of them stood outside the café under the clear night sky. The air was crisp, and the stars shimmered brightly overhead.

“I’m sorry about Jimin,” Jungkook said, his voice low. “He… has no filter.”

“Don’t apologize,” Y/N said softly, leaning against the doorframe. “I like him. He’s funny. And… he seems to care about you a lot.”

Jungkook nodded, his gaze fixed on the ground. After a moment, he looked up, his dark eyes meeting hers. “Y/N, I—” He hesitated, then shook his head. “Never mind.”

“What is it?” she asked, stepping closer.

He looked at her for a long moment, as if searching for something in her expression. “Nothing. I just… I’m glad I met you.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. “Me too.”

The days turned into weeks, and their connection deepened. Jungkook and Y/N spent more time together, sharing stolen moments in the quiet of the café or walking along the trails near the base. Jimin occasionally joined them, his playful energy balancing the quiet intensity between Y/N and Jungkook.

Still, she remained unaware of who Jungkook truly was. He’d mastered the art of blending in—wearing simple clothes, keeping a low profile, and avoiding anything that might reveal his identity. But with every passing day, his secret weighed heavier on him.

One evening, as they sat on a bench overlooking the city lights, Y/N leaned her head on Jungkook’s shoulder. “You know,” she said, her voice soft, “I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re kind, thoughtful, and…” She paused, smiling. “Mysterious.”

Jungkook chuckled, though it lacked his usual lightness. “Mysterious, huh?”

She nodded. “It’s like you’re carrying this big secret. But I don’t mind. I just… I hope you trust me enough to tell me someday.”

He stiffened slightly but quickly relaxed. “I do trust you, Y/N. More than you know.”

For now, he told himself, he could hold onto this. Hold onto her. Because in her eyes, he wasn’t Jungkook the superstar. He was just Jungkook—a man falling hopelessly in love.

When he walked through the door that evening, her heart skipped, as it always did. Jungkook wore his usual black hoodie, his hair slightly messy, and that small, shy smile she had come to adore.

“Hey,” he greeted softly, leaning on the counter. “You okay? You look… distracted.”

Y/N swallowed hard, wiping her hands on her apron before meeting his gaze. “Jungkook, can we talk? Really talk?”

His smile faltered slightly, and she noticed the flicker of concern in his eyes. “Yeah, of course. What’s going on?”

She motioned toward one of the booths in the corner, and he followed her, sitting across from her as she fidgeted with her hands. The words caught in her throat, but she forced herself to push through.

“Jungkook,” she began, her voice trembling, “I don’t know how else to say this, so I’ll just… say it. I’ve fallen for you. I care about you—so much more than I thought possible.”

His eyes widened slightly, and she pressed on before she lost her nerve.

“You’re kind, thoughtful, and you’ve become such a big part of my life. I don’t know what you’re hiding, and I don’t need to know. I just know that I—” Her voice cracked, but she managed to whisper, “I love you.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Jungkook looked down at the table, his hands clenched into fists. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, Y/N thought he might say something. But he didn’t. Instead, he stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.

“Jungkook?” she asked, her voice breaking.

“I—” He shook his head, avoiding her gaze. “I can’t do this, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

Her heart shattered at his words. “What do you mean? Did I… do something wrong?”

“No.” His voice was strained, his hands trembling as he shoved them into his pockets. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re… perfect. But this—us—it can’t happen.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she stood, desperate to understand. “Why? If you feel the same way, why are you pushing me away?”

He looked at her then, his eyes filled with pain. “Because I’m not who you think I am. I can’t give you the life you deserve. And if you knew the truth about me, you’d understand why this has to end.”

“Then tell me,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. “Whatever it is, we can figure it out together.”

But he just shook his head, stepping back toward the door. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I can’t.”

And with that, he walked out, leaving her standing there, tears streaming down her face as the door jingled shut behind him.

For days, Jungkook didn’t come to the café. Y/N tried to focus on her work, but the emptiness he left behind was unbearable. She replayed their conversation over and over in her mind, trying to make sense of it.

What was he hiding? Why couldn’t he trust her?

Jungkook, meanwhile, was drowning in his own turmoil. He stayed on base, avoiding everyone, even Jimin. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face—the way she looked at him, her voice when she said she loved him.

He loved her too. He had from the very beginning. But how could he tell her? How could he burden her with the truth? He wasn’t just a soldier stationed at the base. He was Jeon Jungkook, a global superstar whose every move was scrutinized. His life wasn’t his own, and if Y/N knew the truth, her life wouldn’t be hers either.

“You’re an idiot,” Jimin said one evening, barging into Jungkook’s room without knocking.

Jungkook sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. “Don’t start, Jimin.”

“No, I will start,” Jimin snapped, crossing his arms. “You love her, don’t you?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, but the look on his face said enough.

“Then why are you doing this to her? To yourself?”

“Because I’m protecting her!” Jungkook shouted, standing abruptly. “If she knew who I really was, everything would change. She wouldn’t look at me the same way. And even if she did, the world wouldn’t leave her alone. They’d dig into her life, follow her everywhere—she deserves better than that.”

Jimin softened, his expression turning sympathetic. “But don’t you think she should be the one to decide that? You’re not protecting her, Jungkook. You’re just running away.”

Jungkook didn’t respond, his chest heaving as he stared at the floor.

Jimin sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re in love with her. And I can tell she’s in love with you. You have something rare, Jungkook. Don’t throw it away because you’re scared.”

But fear was all Jungkook felt. Fear of losing her, fear of hurting her, fear of what the truth might do to the fragile happiness they’d found together.

So he stayed away, even as his heart broke a little more with every passing day.

Jungkook stood outside the café, staring at the familiar wooden door with its chipped paint and small “Open” sign hanging in the window. It was evening, the golden light spilling across the cobblestone street, and the faint scent of coffee lingered in the air.

But the door wouldn’t open.

He’d been coming here every day for the past week, hoping to see her. Every time, he found it locked—or worse, saw the flicker of movement inside as Y/N disappeared into the back, ignoring him completely. She was shutting him out, and he couldn’t blame her.

Jungkook exhaled deeply, his hands tightening into fists. He had no right to feel hurt, not after what he’d done. But the pain in his chest was suffocating. He had never realized how much the café, her smile, and the warmth she brought into his life had meant to him—until he’d lost it all.

That night he had walked away from her, thinking it was the right thing to do. He thought he was protecting her from the chaos of his world. But instead, he had shattered her trust and his own heart.

Inside the café, Y/N leaned against the back door, her hands trembling. She had seen him through the window, standing there like he always did, his dark eyes scanning the room as if he might find her. But she couldn’t face him—not after everything.

How dare he come back after breaking her heart? After leaving her standing there, vulnerable and exposed, as if her feelings meant nothing to him?

She wiped away an angry tear and straightened, forcing herself to focus on cleaning up. She had work to do, and she wasn’t going to let him distract her again.

But even as she moved around the café, stacking chairs and wiping tables, her mind kept drifting back to him. She hated how much she still missed him, how much she still loved him despite everything.

And she hated herself for the part of her that wished he would explain—give her a reason, any reason, to believe that what they’d had wasn’t a lie.

Jungkook stayed outside for hours, leaning against the wall across the street, watching as the lights in the café dimmed one by one. He wanted to knock, to beg her to let him in, but every time he stepped closer, he hesitated.

He thought about her laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her dreams. He thought about the quiet moments they had shared, the way she had made him feel like he wasn’t Jeon Jungkook, the idol, but just Jungkook—the man.

But now, he was just a stranger to her.

As the last light went out, he whispered into the empty night, “I’m so sorry, Y/N."

But one rainy afternoon, as she stood behind the counter, wiping down mugs, there was a knock at the door. She glanced up and immediately froze.

It was Jungkook.

He stood there, soaked from the rain, his hoodie clinging to him. His hair was plastered to his forehead, and his eyes were red, as if he hadn’t slept. He looked… broken.

“Y/N,” he called through the glass, his voice muffled but desperate. “Please. Just hear me out.”

She stared at him, her heart pounding. For a moment, she almost considered unlocking the door. But then she remembered the pain of him walking away, the emptiness he had left behind.

So she shook her head, turned the sign to “Closed,” and walked to the back, leaving him standing in the rain.

Weeks had passed since Jungkook had stood outside her café, silently pleading for her to let him in. Y/N had kept her distance, her heart wrapped in the protective walls she had built. But no matter how hard she tried to move on, her thoughts always returned to him. His smile, his quiet warmth, the way he had made her feel seen.

One evening, as she closed the café, there was a knock on the door. She froze, expecting to see him again, but this time it wasn’t the rain-soaked figure she had grown used to. It was Jimin.

“Y/N,” he said gently, stepping inside when she hesitated. “Please don’t shut me out too.”

She sighed, setting down the towel she’d been holding. “What do you want, Jimin?”

“I came to speak for him. I know you don’t want to see him, but he’s…” He hesitated, his usually playful demeanor replaced with sincerity. “He’s a mess, Y/N. He’s been hurting, and it’s all because of you.”

“Because of me?” she snapped, anger bubbling to the surface. “He left me, Jimin. He broke my heart.”

“I know,” Jimin said softly, stepping closer. “But do you know why?”

She opened her mouth to retort but stopped. The truth was, she didn’t. He had never given her the answer she deserved.

Jimin smiled sadly. “He’s been scared, Y/N. Not of you, but of himself. Of his world and what it might do to you if you knew who he really was. But he loves you—more than I think he’s ever loved anyone.”

Her heart twisted painfully at his words, and Jimin placed a folded note on the counter. “He asked me to give you this. If you’re ready to listen, meet him tonight.”

She stared at the note long after Jimin had left, her hands trembling as she opened it.

It was simple:

“The park by the hill. 8 PM. Please give me one last chance to show you how much you mean to me. – Jungkook”

Y/N arrived at the park just as the sun was setting, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. She spotted Jungkook waiting beneath a streetlamp, his hands in his pockets, his gaze distant.

When he saw her, his breath hitched. For a moment, he thought she wouldn’t come. But there she was, standing in front of him, more beautiful than ever.

“Y/N,” he breathed, stepping closer. “Thank you for coming.”

She crossed her arms, trying to mask the whirlwind of emotions she felt. “You said you had something to say. So say it.”

Jungkook nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “I’ve been a coward,” he admitted. “I pushed you away because I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she held them back. “Why, Jungkook? Why did you leave?”

He hesitated, then reached for her hand. “Because I’m not who you think I am,” he said softly. “I’m not just a soldier. I’m…” He took a deep breath, his voice trembling. “I’m Jeon Jungkook. From BTS.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “BTS? The band?”

He nodded, his heart racing. “That’s me. That’s my life. I thought if you knew, it would ruin everything. I didn’t want the attention, the cameras, the chaos, to touch you. But in trying to keep you safe, I lost the one thing that mattered most—us.”

Y/N stared at him, the weight of his confession sinking in. Slowly, she shook her head. “You think I care about any of that?”

He blinked, stunned by her words.

“I don’t care who you are or what you do,” she continued, her voice steady. “I fell in love with you, Jungkook. The man who laughs at my bad jokes, who helps me wipe tables, who makes me feel like I matter. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Jungkook’s heart swelled, and before he could stop himself, he pulled her into his arms. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’ve loved you from the moment I stepped into your café. I’m so sorry for pushing you away.”

As the first drops of rain began to fall, Y/N looked up at him, her tears mixing with the soft drizzle. “Then don’t push me away again.”

He smiled, his hand cupping her cheek as he leaned down, their lips meeting in a kiss that felt like the world had stopped spinning. The rain poured around them, but neither of them cared.

They danced under the streetlamp, soaked but laughing, their hearts finally beating in sync. They kissed again and again, neither wanting the night to end.

For the first time, Jungkook wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t hiding. He was simply a man in love, and for the first time in a long time, he felt free.

And Y/N, standing there in his arms, knew that no matter what came next, they would face it together.

The day of Jungkook’s discharge came with clear blue skies and the kind of warmth that hinted at the arrival of spring. The military base was bustling with activity—friends, family, and fans gathered to celebrate the soldiers returning to civilian life. Y/N stood at a distance, hidden near the edge of the park overlooking the base.

She couldn’t get closer, not with the security stationed everywhere. The crowd of people hoping to catch a glimpse of Jungkook was overwhelming, and Y/N knew she didn’t belong there. She wasn’t a part of his world—not the world that demanded the constant flashing of cameras and the protective presence of bodyguards.

Still, she couldn’t help but watch.

From afar, she saw him standing tall in his uniform, surrounded by his bandmates and a sea of fans. His smile was bright, his hand raised in a wave, but she knew him well enough to see the weariness behind it.

Y/N’s heart swelled with pride as she took it all in. He had worked so hard, given so much of himself, and she loved him for every part of it. But she also felt the ache—the deep, quiet pain of knowing she couldn’t be there beside him.

As the ceremony wrapped up and the crowd began to disperse, she turned to leave, her chest tight. She had seen enough. She had come to support him, even if it was from a distance.

But just as she stepped away, a familiar voice called out.

“Y/N!”

She froze, her breath hitching. When she turned, there he was—Jungkook, running toward her, his uniform slightly wrinkled and his hair falling messily over his forehead.

“Jungkook, what are you doing?” she asked, glancing nervously at the base behind him. “Aren’t you supposed to be with your team? With the fans?”

“They can wait,” he said, stopping in front of her, slightly out of breath. “You can’t.”

Her eyes widened as he reached for her hands, his grip firm but trembling. “I saw you standing there, Y/N. I knew you’d come.”

“I couldn’t stay away,” she admitted softly. “I’m so proud of you, Jungkook. But… this isn’t my place. I don’t belong here.”

His face fell, and he shook his head. “Don’t say that. You belong with me.”

She bit her lip, her eyes searching his. “Do I? Jungkook, look at your life. Look at everything that comes with it. I don’t know if I can—”

He cut her off, his voice low and filled with pain. “I know. That’s why I need to tell you something.”

Her stomach twisted as he let go of her hands, stepping back slightly.

“I love you, Y/N. I always will. But my life—it’s not easy. It’s cameras, schedules, people watching my every move. It’s exhausting, and it’s lonely, and it’s not fair to you.”

Tears filled her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “So what are you saying, Jungkook?”

He swallowed hard, his own eyes glistening. “I’m saying I can’t drag you into this. I can’t ask you to give up your peace, your freedom, for a life that will never feel truly yours.”

Her heart broke at his words, but deep down, she understood. She had seen the way his world operated, the constant pressure and scrutiny. It wasn’t the quiet life they had shared at the café, the one that had felt so natural, so right.

“So this is it?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He stepped closer, cupping her face with his hands. “If I could choose any life, Y/N, it would be with you. But I can’t change who I am, and I won’t let my life ruin yours.”

The tears spilled over as she nodded, her hands resting on his. “I hate this, but… I understand.”

They stood there for what felt like an eternity, the weight of their unspoken love hanging heavy in the air. Finally, Jungkook leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead.

“You’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be,” he whispered. “Thank you for everything.”

She closed her eyes, committing the feel of his touch to memory. “And you’ve made me feel more alive than I ever thought possible.”

As he pulled away, their gazes locked one last time. Then, without another word, he turned and walked back toward the base, his shoulders heavy with the weight of what he was leaving behind.

Y/N watched him go, her heart breaking with every step he took. But she stayed strong, knowing that sometimes, love meant letting go—even when it was the hardest thing in the world.

And as the sun set behind the mountains, she whispered into the quiet air, “Goodbye, Jungkook. I’ll always love you.”

It had been two years since Y/N had left the small café near the military base behind, two years since she had last seen Jungkook. In that time, she had built a new life for herself, pouring her heart into her dream of opening a café in Seoul.

Her new café, The Golden Bean, had quickly become a neighborhood favorite. It was cozy, tucked between tall buildings, with large windows that let in the sunlight. She loved it here—the bustling streets of Seoul, the friendly locals who had become regulars, and the sense of pride she felt every time someone complimented her coffee or her pastries.

But there were moments when her mind would wander back to him. Jungkook. The boy with the soft eyes and the tender smile who had stolen her heart. She had watched him grow from afar, his career reaching new heights. His face was on billboards, his voice on every radio station. He was bigger than ever, and yet he still felt like the boy she had danced with in the rain.

One quiet afternoon, Y/N decided to close the café early and take a walk through the nearby park. The air was crisp, the sun warm on her face as she strolled beneath the cherry blossom trees, their petals fluttering down like soft snow.

She was lost in thought, admiring the beauty around her, when she heard the sound of fast footsteps and the heavy breathing of someone running. Before she could react, a Dobermann came bounding toward her, its tongue lolling and tail wagging.

“Whoa, hey there!” she laughed, crouching down as the dog nearly toppled her over. The dog’s fur was soft beneath her hands, and its dark brown eyes sparkled with mischief as it licked her cheek.

She giggled, rubbing its ears. “You’re a friendly one, aren’t you?”

“Bam! Stop it!”

The familiar voice froze her in place. Slowly, Y/N looked up, her heart pounding.

There he was.

Jungkook stood a few feet away, his dark hair slightly messy, wearing a simple hoodie and joggers. His chest rose and fell as he caught his breath, his wide eyes fixed on her.

“Y/N?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her hands fell away from Bam as she straightened, her breath catching. “Jungkook…”

For a moment, neither of them moved, the world around them fading into the background. It felt like time had stopped, like the universe had conspired to bring them together again.

“I—I didn’t expect to see you here,” he stammered, stepping closer.

“Me neither,” she said, her voice soft. She glanced down at the dog. “Bam’s yours?”

He nodded, smiling nervously. “Yeah, he’s my boy. He got loose during our run. Sorry if he bothered you.”

She shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “He didn’t. He’s sweet.”

Jungkook’s gaze softened, and for a moment, they simply looked at each other, the years of distance melting away. Finally, he broke the silence.

“How are you?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“I’m… good,” she said, and it wasn’t a lie. “I opened a café here in Seoul.”

His eyes lit up with pride. “That’s amazing, Y/N. I always knew you’d do it.”

She felt a pang in her chest at his words, the warmth of his support washing over her. “And you… You’ve been doing incredible things. I’ve seen you everywhere.”

Jungkook’s smile faltered slightly, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, it’s been… a lot. But it doesn’t feel as good as it should.”

“Why not?”

He hesitated, then met her eyes, his voice raw. “Because you weren’t there to share it with me.”

Her breath hitched, her heart pounding as his words hung in the air.

“Y/N,” he continued, stepping closer. “I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you go, by keeping you away from my crazy life. But not a day has gone by where I haven’t missed you. Seeing you here, now—it feels like fate.”

She stared at him, her emotions swirling in her chest. “Jungkook, your life is so different from mine. It’s—”

“I don’t care,” he said firmly, cutting her off. “I’ve had all the success I could ever dream of, but none of it means anything without you. I’ve learned that the hard way.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at him, his expression filled with a vulnerability she hadn’t seen before.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Her heart felt like it might burst. Slowly, she reached out, her fingers brushing against his. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook. So much.”

He took her hand, his grip warm and steady. “Then let me prove to you that we can make this work. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just… don’t walk away again.”

She smiled through her tears, nodding as she stepped closer. “I won’t.”

As the cherry blossoms fell around them, Jungkook pulled her into his arms, holding her as if he’d never let go again. Bam barked happily, circling around them as they laughed through their tears.

And in that moment, beneath the trees and the open sky, it felt like everything had fallen into place—like they had found their way back to where they were always meant to be.

[mahyuume]

MY PRINCE CHARMING!

— synopsis. like all fairytales, the princess always has her prince charming. but they never really explained how that prince courted her.

pairing. 1A boys (katsuki bakugou & shoto todoroki) x princess!reader | genre. romcom, fluff | mlist

reminders! your quirk is "summon", so basically you can summon anything and anyone to your liking along with it under your control! :3 you an activate it either by saying it out loud or manifesting it in your head. (ex. manifesting a whole army and ordering them to take down the enemy is possible.)

KATSUKI BAKUGOU, who's very well known for being brash, tries asks you out with(out) aggression.

“hey princess, come over here for a sec,” bakugou calls out to you from across the classroom, reclining in his desk with his feet up.

right now, you can't tell if the nickname "princess" is just his way of being rude or if it's meant affectionately in a mean way with hidden sincerity. either way, you haven't quite gotten used to it yet. leaving uraraka and tsuyu behind, you make your way towards his desk; which feels like an eternity in his opinion.

“what's your problem, bakugou?” you retort, unintentionally sounding harsh. “what's with your attitude princess?!” he growls, “just cause you’re coming from some stupid royal family doesn't mean you can talk down to the world’s soon greatest hero.” bakugou says in your face with his stupid grin. but right now, not only is he standing a little too close for your liking, but small explosions are going off in his right palm. is he trying to have a conversation by threatening you??

kirishima interjects, sweat dropping as he attempts to defuse the tension between his best friend and the class's princess. “I'm sure she didn't mean for it to come off that way!” he looks at you, hoping for agreement. “yeah, man! you just need to chill.…” denki adds on, but his voice trails off quietly. “also, you should just spit out what you wanted to say.” He says the last part a little louder before whistling and avoiding eye contact with the hot-headed guy who swears at him.

“spit what out? a threat or—“ “yeah! a threat that I'll crush you in training today, pretty girl.”

...

"bakubro,—" before bakugou can realize his mistake, you (along with kirishima and denki) beat him to it. “did you just call me pretty?”

finally, it dawns on him. and he feels like dying when realization hits. “what? no, I didn't. I called you ugly.” “nuh-uh. you called me pretty.” “no, I didn't.” he huffs with a tongue click following, “did all the tiaras and stuff you wear brainwash you and get to your stupid head?” you giggle slightly at his reaction as he looks away, hands in his pockets, ready to walk away from the whole situation. well, he’s trying to salvage his pride. you’ll give him that.

“stop fuckin' laughing brat!” he yells, clearly embarrassment took over. “dude just tell her already!” denki groans, hands in his face as he's already frustrated with how his friend's so freakishly good at stalling a confession. “bakugou, dude... I'm just gonna hang with mina.” kirishima comments, trying to give the two of you some space alone. “yeah, same here," denki agrees while giving a sly teasing smirk to his exploding friend as they both stand up and make their way towards their pink-haired best friend.

and now, it's just the two of you. you in front of his desk, and him with his back turned to you, head down.

“uh, I don't think there's anything interesting on the floor for you to be looking that long.” you tease him, “shut up...” nice. you got him to talk. “is that all? so much for a threat.”

"go out with me."

so straightforward. “...speak up bakugou. I can't hear you!” I said... gooutwithme.” “still can't hear you~!” “I SAID GO OUT WITH ME DAMMIT!” he practically screams as small explosions go off. nervous much?

also as he screamed at you, the multiple heads of your classmates turned towards you and the boy who's most likely going to blow your head off after kissing you trying to comprehend what they just heard.

“show some respect towards your crush!” you deadpan, “shut it!”he scoffs as he finally faces you. “…is it yes or no?” the now less embarrassed or angry (you really couldn’t tell) asks quietly, surprisingly audible over all the chatter about the two of you.

“it would've been nicer if you did this properly,” you say. "wh—?!” “but sure, I accept your challenge of beating you to a pulp in training.” “…” bakugou stands there, looking at you with a mixture of confusion and a ‘what the fuck did you just say’ with slightly pink blush visible on his pale skin.

“...It's a yes, idiot.”

suddenly, he can breathe properly and releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding. “stop playing around, brat,” he smiles at you as you laugh.

he was nervous over nothing, just like what his friends said.

SHOTO TODOROKI, one of the most strongest guys in your class... no, in UA, verbally expressed he was amazed with your quirk?! is he flirting with you..?

“yn, please excuse my sudden compliment, but I must say your quirk is amazing. especially with your control, it definitely suits a girl like you.” the half-n-half user tells you, straight in the face even. you think you probably– no most definitely look stupid in front of him with your flustered expression, speechless too... “o—oh! you think so?”

...you wish shigaraki could decay this whole school right now and turn you into dust.

todoroki keeps his gaze on you as a small but evident smile shows on his lips. “yes, I think so,” he says in a more softer tone. you think it's much better than his stoic voice you often hear. “is there anything i said wrong? or made you uncomfortable?” you also think about how cute he can be without trying, and you hate it.

quickly brushing off his earlier statement, he sighs and fixes his stiff posture as response. “that's good to know. I wouldn't like upsetting a princess after all.” todoroki smiles at you before turning his heel to leave. “I will be taking my leave now yn,” how nonchalant could he be? “take care. I'll see you at the dorms.”

after todoroki bid farewell, leaving his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway, you found yourself wishing he would stay a bit longer.

“wait!” you hastily exclaimed suddenly, reaching out towards him with an arm, but then stopping with a twitch. the volume of your voice higher than you intended, making you shock yourself. todoroki turns around, puzzled by your abrupt gesture. it was probably just a reflex, he thought, dismissing the sudden movement. because surely, you wouldn't want him to stay for anything else, right?

in a surprising turn of events, you sheepishly invited him for lunch or dinner after exams, revealing your want for him to stay.

“um, sorry. would you like to have lunch, maybe dinner? sometime after training and exams.”

having practically asked him out, you blushed as he smiled, agreeing and taking out his phone. “what’s this for?” you inquired, still a bit pink in the face. “well, I do need your number for our date, don't I?” the icy hot user replied with an 'obviously' look on his face.

if you weren't red before, you definitely were now; perhaps even resembling a sunburn. did he just activate his fire quirk or something? the air kept getting hotter the longer you both talked.

“oops! my apologies for that...” you muttered nervously, inputting your number into his phone, adjusting your own contact details as well. 'yn! (≧∀≦)'

SAVE CONTACT ? YES | NO > YES | NO

“cute emoji.” todoroki plainly says, with a hint of adornment in his tone as he looked at your newly saved contact name. he thinks he’ll start using those emojis often. “haha, I know right…”

giving back his phone, you offer walking back to the dorms with him.

“I would like that, as much I like being in your company.” okay. he's definitely hitting on you now. “todoroki... sorry for my sudden ask, but are you flirting with me?” you say a little quickly with a flushed face, looking the other way to avoid his gaze. as you do that, he stops walking.

noticing his presence gone and a few steps back, you look back and suddenly you see his expression as one you’ve never seen before.

“t—todoroki?” you call out to him with a tone tinged with tinged with a new found anxiety and concern due to his sudden silence. unsure if he’s flushed of getting caught or genuinely contemplating if he was or wasn’t. but one thing you were sure about was how crazy the two of you must look, standing in the middle of a hall way going back and forth on each other.

besides all this, you hurriedly apologize for catching him off guard, trying to ease any discomfort you might’ve caused (you hope you haven’t, or else you really wish the league of villains would take you the moment you leave the building.)

“ohmygod, please excuse me for just asking that out of the blue, you really don’t have to—“ “yes. I was.” “huh?” “I was actually flirting with you,” the dual colored hair boy who stands in front of you, smiling bashfully; his gaze struggling to maintain eye contact but always seems to meet yours.

“sorry, was I moving too fast?” todoroki asks you with the gently and sincere tone that you could listen to on repeat. wait, what the hell? he’s just trying to ease the tension between you.

“no!” realizing you responded too hastily, you try to regain a normal composure and talk to him; but your words fail to come out right “ah, sorry… but no! you weren’t, I was just… um…” lord, your words were really failing you. so you think of the only thing sensible to get you out of this situation,

“walk away from me!” you commanded him, and in doing so he does. involuntarily. you gotta thank your quirk for this, honestly.

“wh- wait, yn!” todoroki calls out to you in a shocked but confused tone, “turn me back, right now!” he says as his body still walks away from you, having no control over your quirk.

as you hear him ask to be released, you immediately regret your decision on using your quirk in him.“come back to me.”

after hearing your latest command, he feels grateful as his body obediently changes direction and approaches you, coming within 10 steps. now standing before you, he nervously sweats, unsure of what to do or say. meanwhile, you avert your gaze, looking down as he gazes at you. “i’m sorry I was too nervous!”you exclaim loudly as you attempt to leave, but he interrupts you before you can manage your grand escape.

“please don’t go,” he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper. you stop in your tracks from the surprised by his sudden change in demeanor and how gently he reached out to your arm. looking up at you after a moment of silence, with kind eyes laced with a loving intent, he takes a deep breath and musters up the courage to speak. “what I meant was, don’t be sorry.” he smiles, “and don’t leave.”

you swear you feel a heart attack coming.

“I’m sure you’ve already known, but I just wanted to say...i think you’re amazing. and i would really like to get to know you better.” you feel your heart skip a beat as you realize his true intentions. (as if he didn’t tell you from the beginning) a smile spreads across your face as you reply, “I would like that too.” and in that moment, the nervous tension dissipates, replaced by a sense of excitement for what the future may hold.

“so what do you say,” todoroki starts again; “do you just wanna start the date tonight?” he asks, a hopeful like look casted upon his face. who could say no to a face like that? you gleem at him as the corners of his mouth curl upwards more, feeling a sense of relief.

as he stands there, now going walk with you towards the dorms, he thanks himself for getting over with his own nervousness and complimenting you.

BONUS: “y’know, I didn’t actually know i was asking for a date.” you admit to him as you lean on the kitchen counter, watching your new boyfriend trying to chop chives. “really?” he stops cutting, now looking at you with a surprised smile. “yeah, really…” you chuckle, “I thought I was just asking for you to hang out.” your dual wielder boyfriend laughs, “well I’m glad I took it the wrong way and started flirting with you.” he sighs as he resumes to cooking. “yeah. me too.” you smile at the scene unfolding in front of you.

“stop fucking flirting. it’s making me sick.” “oh shut up bakugou.”

HI GUYS!!! finally posting this after it’s been in drafts since like may I really like how this turned out especially todoroki hehehehehehehheh can u tell I really like him. but anyways, I’m thinking if I should do a part 2 with deku and uhh idk. but anyways!!!!! hope u guys like this 𝜗𝜚.

[enwoso]

Lovie fic nye party and Lovie is desperate to stay up till midnight but alessia doesn’t want to let that happen so makes the whole party fake that its new years before it actually is so Lovie can celebrate with them

MIDNIGHT MAGIC | alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy masterlist

it was new year's eve and you were bursting with with excitement. you were bouncing around the living room in a sparkled dress, your hair done to perfection with sparkly bobbles and hair slides as your face was painted with enthusiasm.

since you had been told about new year's eve by beth one afternoon while you waited for your mummy, you'd non stop talking about staying up until midnight.

but with that, your mummy knew there was no way you would make it. knowing you would be flat out asleep by the time the clock even struck ten pm.

you were a ball of energy but once that energy drained and it inched closer to your bedtime, your eyelids grew heavy faster than anyone could even say 'happy new year'

but alessia had a plan. an elaborate one that would ensure you felt like you had experienced the full midnight celebration without the inevitable crash into your slumber.

"alright, lovie. are you ready for the party?" alessia asked as her voice too was full of excitement, though her heart ached a little sing how determined you were. "but you have to promise me you'll try your best to stay awake"

you nodded, your eyes wide and gleaming, "i will stay awake, mummy i promise i'll wait for the fireworks and i'll say happy new year to all the girls"

alessia smiled, pushing your little head back which had '2025' in silver sparkly letters big and proud on it "tonight will be so special and you won't believe whose made the journey!"

you gasped, "who? who?" you asked, you asked your little legs hopping up and down in excitement.

"you'll have to wait and see" alessia dragged out her last word as a small huff came from you.

all the arsenal girls had been invited by alessia and had promised to help alessia with making tonight magical for you, the living room had been transformed into a festive wonderland, fairy lights twinkling— which you had helped put up, as well as a big balloon banner which read happy new year across the wall.

as well as your favourite part a table piled high with all of your favourite treats — mini cupcakes, juice cartons and of course enough crisps to feed a small army.

the plan was simple, set up a fake countdown and let you celebrate with all of your favourite people.

the doorbell rang and your eyes grew wide as saucers, "is that them, mummy? is that them?" alessia grinned as she nodded, helping you to open the door as all the arsenal girls were here.

each and every one complimenting how cute you looked as alessia hugged each one as they walked into her home. but as each one came in, you waved to beth and then you face lit up as you spotted someone who definitely didn't play in arsenal reds anymore.

"vivvy!" you squealed rushing into her arms, giving her a big hug as viv laughed at your reaction. "you came! beth said you might not be able to come"

"i wouldn't have missed it for the world, klein"

"how come i never get that type of reaction?" beth huffed as she leaned against the banister, alessia giggling at beth's reaction.

"beth she sees you at least five days a week-"

"and?”

once you had got over the star struck of viv making the journey down settling into a rhythm with the arsenal girls being around your house, music filling your ears until.

"where's my favourite little russo?" a voice with a thick accent called out as your head shot up. there was only one person who had a favourite russo.

"mummy? is that tooney?" you gasped as you looked towards your mummy, the smile giving away everything as she nodded.

you quickly getting up and making your way to the hallway, "auntie ella!" you squealed rushing into her arms as she hugged you once she'd put her bags down.

"'ello tiny, i've missed ya!" ella smiled as she tickled your side, earning a few giggles from you as you went to inspect what she had brought for you.

"are these for me?" you asked pointing to the chocolate cakes decked with icing and cool decoration. ella nodding as you rushed to tell your mummy with such excitement as ella followed you into the living room, saying her hellos to the arsenal girls.

your body was filled with even more excitement than you thought was even possible. all surrounded by those you loved, it was a dream come true for you.

but as much fun as it was, alessia had a little secret up her sleeve to ensure you didn't realise what was going on.

as the night grew later, alessia had kept a careful eye on the time, both the real time and the fake clock. when the real time had hit just past 7:55 pm which was exactly thirty-five minutes before your bedtime — alessia was beginning to gather everyone for the 'countdown'

"lovie, cmon it's time! we are gonna do out countdown for the new year!" alessia announced with a wink as ella helped to round everyone up.

you jumped up and down, "yay! i'm ready! i'll say happy new year like big girl!" you cheered umping up and down and clapping your tiny hands.

the girls all gathered around, pretending to check their watches making dramatic faces as if they were waiting for the clock to strike twelve.

"ten... nine... eight..." alessia started, and the room filled with cheers. "seven... six... five..." everyone joined in, chanting with exaggerated excitement.

in the moment, kyra was really paying attention as she glanced down at her own phone and at the time and then up to the other, "it's literally only-" she stopped herself mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she realised now what alessia meant by an early new years, "oh.. uh happy new year tiny!"

the room erupted in laughter as your eyes sparkled, you hadn't even noticed the slip up. too focused on watching the large clock on the wall strike, twelve. as you popped your party popper. "happy new year!" you shouted as you clapped your hands like a pro.

ella leaned over to alessia and whispered with a wink, "she's going to remember this for years. the best party"

alessia couldn't help but smile, "i think we done a pretty good job!" alessia paused as ella hummed in agreement before alessia broke into small laughter, "we aren't going to hear the end of that fact she's seen the real midnight, though"

as the fake new year's celebration continued, the team showered you with love, played games and even with a small persuasion game with your mummy were allowed to kick the ball around in the living room.

even if you did have to help kyra and katie hide the fact that the three of you had broken one of your mummy's ornaments that had lived on the coffee table for ages. but alessia wouldn't notice that it wasn’t there? and you would maybe tell your mummy about that later..

but by the time the actual midnight came around, you'd been changed into your pyjamas and were already fast asleep, snuggled up on the couch. your tiny hands clutching your esme the elephant teddy.

alessia looking down at you, her little girl, her heart full. she'd given you the magic of the night and you own kind of special celebrations and you could wake up tomorrow thinking you had stayed up till the very end of the year.

as a content left your mummy's lips, she whispered, "happy new year my lovie. you're my favorite part of every year."

and as she kissed your forehead, she could already picture next years celebrations. but for now, alessia savoured this moment knowing she'd made it a memory to last forever.

[starsinmylatte]

I am fellow of Rick flags Sr lover I I don’t know if you are still taking requests for Rick flags if you are not then please disregard this but if you are

I was wondering if I could ask NSFW alphabet X and K thank you so very much. I really do hope you enjoy your day and I love your work 

Hi, hi! I absolutely am still drooling about this man taking requests for him 🙂‍↕️. Thank you for the super sweet compliments! 💕

Cw: fem!reader, Breeding kink/pregnancy kink, age gap, brat taming, overstim

X: I really thought about just leaving the screenshot of his crotch close-up here with nothing else added…. but allow me to elaborate. This man is HUNG. Rick Flag Sr has a massive Flag pole (ha) with big, heavy breeding balls to match.

He’s circumcised and only slightly above average length, but his girth is no laughing matter, even when he's flaccid. 100% a shower; you know exactly what he's working with. Rick has to prepare his partners extensively to take him, or they just have to be ready for the stretch of a lifetime.

No part of this man is small, and his military service has left him deliciously toned. His biceps are the best pillows in the world, and if you kiss along the contours of his muscles or scars, his hefty cock gives a delicious little twitch. Rick’s body is toned because of his occupation, not for vanity reasons, but he can't lie and say that he's not flattered (and more than a little aroused) when you show appreciation for his rugged body.

K: Oh, I've been waiting for this one. With a dedicated partner he loves, Rick develops the breeding kink of all time.

Before falling for you, Rick would've said that he's too old and jaded to do any of that shit ever again. He’s a tough army man who had a son at a very young age with a wife he grew to dislike, and that's gonna leave some deep scars. He likely missed out on a lot of her pregnancy and Rick Jr’s childhood because of deployments, and he also has a lot of guilt around that. It only gets worse when his son dies in Corto Maltese….. but

You come into his life and show him the love and understanding that he didn't think he would ever receive from another human. His pain and guilt are eased immensely by your gentle, soothing compassion and sparkling intelligence as you work through any relationship hurdles. Rick begins to understand more and more about himself and why his marriage failed (caused by both faults from him and his ex-wife), and you encourage him to be an even better man.

Rick finds himself considering marriage once again, but he still winces every time he thinks about how you're a younger woman and would probably want children. You're too aware of his pain to bring the subject up, but he worries that staying with him would rob you of the joys of motherhood. However, that all disappears one night.

Rick had been invited to countless family gatherings since his string of tragedies but couldn’t bear the thought of being stuck in a room full of happy people who pitied him. Through your gentle support, he finally agreed to give a very small get-together a try, which is how Rick found himself knocking on the door of his cousin's house one night for dinner around Christmas.

It took a moment, but a man who vaguely resembled a very tired, younger Rick with no beard opened the door, chuckling softly. "Sorry, the little one is not happy at the moment. We're running behind and haven't even started cooking yet."

It had been so long since Rick had seen his family that he didn't know they had just welcomed their first child. He froze and was prepared to reschedule for another night, but your eyes lit up, "Oh, it's not a problem at all."

Before Rick could blink, you had already introduced yourself and offered a hand in the kitchen. In no time, you were giggling and chatting with his cousin's wife, rocking their baby in your arms as the other woman stirred a pot simmering away on the stovetop. Rick was sitting on the sofa, drinking a beer and conversing with his cousin, but his warm, brown gaze was fixed on you. You looked nothing short of angelic underneath the glow of the Christmas lights as you cooed at the baby in her little holiday outfit. Something just clicked in his brain, and he understood. He wanted to see you just like this, except in your own home, with your baby.

From there, it only took a few days for Rick's brain to devolve into visions of you swollen with his child, waddling around your home as you nested and decorated the nursery. He wanted to massage your aching back and breasts, to pamper you like a goddamn princess- no, a queen who wanted for nothing. Rick had gone from casually looking at rings to feverishly checking the shipment status of one, all so he could do things correctly and set a diamond on your pretty finger before giving you his baby.

Age Gap: You cannot look me in the digital eyes and tell me Rick didn't immediately pop a boner when Ilana said that she liked older men. He is absolutely not one of those old creeps who wants some innocent girl with no life experience, but there's something so goddamn hot about a strong, capable younger woman who freely and clearly chooses him above men her age.

A little bit of teasing/brat-taming also turns him way the hell on. Use your wit to be snarky, and don't be surprised if you find yourself thrown on the bed with Rick coaxing orgasm after orgasm from your tired body with his hands and tongue.... just wait until you get to the point where he gives you his heavy, aching cock.

NSFW alphabet link here!

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello everyone! I'm back with a (kinda late) spooky au! This is the monster-themed au that won the last poll, so here we go!

In this au, set in season 4 (post-Aithusa), where, after feeling Aithusa call to him from within her egg, Merlin could now sense dragon eggs.

Since dragons mated every year and laid multiple eggs each time, and there were only so many dragonlords around to hatch them, there were hundreds of dragon eggs hidden around Albion, waiting for a dragonlord to get close enough for them to call out to, yearning for the world outside of their shells. And since the dragonlords were nearly wiped out in the purge, those hundreds of eggs were still hidden, still waiting for a dragonlord to call them into life.

And now that Merlin can recognize their calls and knows how to call them forth them their eggs, he collects and hatches as many dragon eggs as he can, determined to bring the magical creatures back to their former glory.

And this goes fairly smoothly, except for one issue: he needs a place to hide all of them. They're all still so young, despite growing rather quickly, and the world is still hostile towards dragons, not seeing them as the majestic creatures of wonder that they are.

So, Merlin finds a hidden place for all of them to nest: an underground cave system beneath a mountain. It was near enough to Camelot that he could visit frequently, and the tunnels were large enough for all of them to have their own space, even as the number of baby dragons grew from five, to ten, to twenty, to well over seventy baby dragons took refuge inside the caves.

Aithusa was delighted by each new baby sibling Merlin brought to her in the caves, and she took care of them as best she could. (Kilgharrah, the rubbish babysitter, was not invited to the nests, as he would surely fill the babies' heads with all sort of nonsense about hating humans.)

And so, Merlin kept this up for well over a year, hatching dragons and bringing them to the nests, where he would be bombarded by baby dragons looking to cuddle with their egg-father. He loved spending time with all of them, but he worried about them too. What would happen when grew too large for the caves? Where would they go? Would they be safe?

But as the young dragons grew, they were content to stay in their hidden sanctuary, keeping each other company and eagerly awaiting their egg-father's sporadic visits. They especially enjoyed his stories of Camelot and his golden king. They loved to imagine the man their father was describing, a man with gold for hair and jewels for eyes. He must be the greatest treasure in all the lands! It was no wonder their great and powerful dragonlord kept him safe in his hoard!

And it went on like this for several years, up until Morgana heard rumors of strange growls and reports of terrible beasts coming from the caves underneath the White Mountains. Upon hearing these rumors and sensing with her magic that were was a small army of powerful magical beasts within the caves, she came up with the brilliant plan of luring Arthur, Merlin, and the knights into these tunnels and trapping them there. Those beasts, whatever they were, would surely make quick work of all of them!

Her plan, of course, succeeds. After all, she knew that using a knight as bait would lure all of them into the caves, and then using her magic to collapse all of the exits was simple work. As she walked away from the mountain, she cackled with furious glee. At long last, all of her enemies were doomed! Camelot was hers for the taking!

Meanwhile, underneath the mountain, Arthur, Merlin, and the knights were all trapped. While they hadn't run into any of the monsters Morgana had mentioned, they could hear growls echoing off of the stone walls, heralding their doom getting closer and closer.

(The growling, translated from dragontongue: Papa! Papa! Papa's back!)

As the sounds of the ferocious growling grew closer and closer, they could see the shadows of the beasts approaching on the walls of the cave. They were enormous, with wings and claws! Arthur and the knights all drew their swords, ready to fight to the end against a mob of these horrid beasts.

As the monsters came into view, the shocked gasp came from the group. Before them was an impossible sight, dozens of dragons, each as long as two men and as tall as Percival!

(Merlin gasped at the sight because his babies had suddenly hit growth spurts! They were so much bigger than the last time he saw them!)

Arthur and all his knights braced themselves for what would be a devastating attack from the monsters, when suddenly, to their horror, Merlin ran out in front of them!

"Merlin! This is no time for your sacrificial idiocy! Get back behind us!"

But Merlin didn't even glance back at them, h simply ran forwards towards the beasts!

Arthur gave out a heart-wrenching cry as the monsters pounced on his friend, their razor-sharp claws tearing through his skin and their horrid jaws opening to bite at his flesh.

(Merlin, meanwhile, was being cuddled and playfully licked by his dragons, who took great care to keep their claws and teeth away from their egg-father's soft human skin.)

With a savage and anguished war cry, Arthur ran forward, sword in hand, praying that Merlin was still in one piece. Jolted out of their horror by Arthur's cry, the other knights follow, ready to slay these monsters and save Merlin from their grasp!

The dragons, who recognize Arthur from Merlin's descriptions of him, dart forward, excited to finally meet the golden king that their lord talks so much about! The golden king was as radiant as their lord said he was, and he even gave a play roar and charged at them! He wanted to play and be their friend!

His strange gray hand-fang stung a little bit when it hit their scales, but it hurt no more than their siblings' claws when they were play-fighting together.

The young dragons had a great time playing with all their new friends, who gave play roars and hit them with those strange gray fangs. Their new friends were so fast too, not letting the dragons hit them easily.

This went on for a while, until Aithusa become too excited by all of the play fighting and accidentally knocked the golden king down too hard, knocking the air out of him.

Aithusa whined apologetically as she walked over to him, opening her mouth so that she could breath her healing breath on him, when he suddenly grabbed his grey-fang and aimed it at her open mouth, ready to strike. Aithusa flinched back in surprise, but the golden king's movement was halted by a call from her lord.

"STOP!"

Everyone, knights and dragons alike, froze at the order, even though the command had not been given in dragontongue. Aithusa whined in apology again. She hadn't meant to hurt her lord's king! She had just forgotten he was less sturdy than her siblings!

"Merlin! You're alright! Come quickly, we must leave before these beasts... why is that dragon nuzzling you like an overgrown housecat?"

Merlin gave Arthur his most innocent look, but it wasn't very convincing. Sighing, Merlin wrapped his arms around Aithusa's neck and hugged her, which caused her to start purring with joy, much to the knights' shock.

"Well, you see, I kinda... found a dragon egg out in the woods one day? And I couldn't just leave it all by itself, anything could have happened to it, so I put it somewhere safe! And then, it hatched! And I couldn't just leave the poor baby to fend for herself, so I brought her here, where I thought she'd be safe and not bother anyone. But then I couldn't just leave her alone here, so I came back to visit her and bring her food!

And then, I started finding more dragon eggs and brought all of them here and took care of them!"

Merlin finished his rushed explanation with a smile, hoping that Arthur would just buy it and not ask any questions, like how Merlin found any dragon eggs in the first place. By the end of his explanation, Arthur had gone from alarmed to completely exasperated.

"So what you mean to tell me, Merlin, is that you found dragon eggs, and, instead of killing them before they could become threats, chose to raise them like they were stray kittens instead?"

Arthur's tone indicated that yes, he had bought Merlin's lie, and yes, he also thought Merlin was a much bigger idiot than he did before.

Merlin just nodded, praying to anyone that would listen that none of the knights would possess any critical thinking skills and start poking holes in Merlin's hastily made-up story.

Merlin's fears were alleviated when Gwaine began laughing hysterically, walked fearlessly between the dragons, and clasped a hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"My friend, I knew you were a special kind of crazy for putting up with Arthur all these years, but this! This beats any insane stunt you've done before! You've just tamed dragons, you madman! Hell, you've got them all wrapped around your finger by the looks of it!"

Gwaine, amazed and almost giddy, looked around at the dragons, who were contently cuddling up around Merlin now, tired from all of the play fighting.

Merlin rubbed the back of his neck, nervous and slightly embarrassed at all of the attention. The other knights looked on in wonder as Merlin told the dragons to go off the sleep in the nest, and they all listened. He really had tamed them!

Merlin turned and gave Arthur, who was still looked at Merlin with frustration and disbelief, a nervous smile.

"So, uh, it's probably a bit late to be asking this, but do you think I can keep them in Camelot?"

And that's all for now! I had a lot of fun writing about Merlin army of baby dragons! Please let me know if you'd like a continuation of this!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings!

[cookie-crumblr]

F!Dragon Reader x M! Yan Dragon OC

Chaos Incarnate

MINORS DNI

CW: FEM! Reader, reader is a shapeshifting dragon, reader has a vagina, reader referred to as she/her, non human anatomy(the guy’s a dragon, of course i’m giving him at least 2 dicks *cough cough* he has 3), reader is virgin, pet names for reader (little queen, ), kidnaped reader, NON CON, cervix fucking, breeding kink, unsafe sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, massive size difference/size kink, predator/prey play, severe violence against reader, dacryphilia, stomach bulge, scaleys(like furries but scaley lol idk if i should warn that but we are dragons), double(triple) penetration, 2 dicks in one hole, public sex, monster fucking i forget the word rn, not proofread whew that’s like my most ever XD ENJOY!<3 potions and magic high fantasy environment. p in v and p in b

Part 1?

You’ve been queen for only a short while. It wasn’t only your birthright, you’ve proven yourself a formidable foe, not to be trifled with on many a battlefield. Your roar has instilled fear in enemy armies, and has rallied your own troops countless times over. You are beloved by your people.

So how did you get into this situation?

A long since (thought to be) dead draconic titan kidnapping you?

The chains are tight around your torso, they’re also enchanted with some magic spell so that you cannot shift into your glorious dragon form. You feel real terror for the first in a long time.

He might eat you… He was known once as the world devourer. You gulp.

He can smell the fear on you, you could in his place, but his smirk gives it away further.

“Little queen,” Even in humanoid form his voice booms off the walls of his cavernous castle. “Why haven’t you had a brood of your own yet? hmm?” His posture is too lax for your own comfort. He inspects you while leaning against the metal bed posts of a massive larger than a standard dragon sized round bed.

“Wh-what!?” You cough and choke on your own spit, what a personal question!! Sure all of dragonkind is wondering why their new queen hasn’t at least taken consorts. “That’s too personal, and quite frankly none of your business.” You defiantly turn your head with a small “hmmpf”

“Oh little queen, that is where you are wrong,” He kicks off of the post, and slowly saunters over to you. He’s completely naked other than a gilded loincloth. You keep your eyes up to the ceiling and away from him. “I haven’t had brood of my own in… Well centuries! since i’ve been asleep and all that.”

Your brows peak, he can’t be going where you think he’s going. His claw traces your jaw and brings your face to his, he gazes upon your lips wantonly. “Please…”

“Oh I love it when you beg already. You’ll be doing plenty of that,” His claw becomes more and more draconic as he shifts it’s form to something much much sharper. You try to sink into the pillar you’re chained to to get away as best you can even though you know it’s no use.

*Slash!*

Your chains clink against the floor loudly. He’s set you free? You look back at him with only one eye opening at a time.

“Your first time should be done properly, right?” His grin is far too toothy for comfort.

“How did you—?” you start panicking now.

He smells the air, his eyes rolling in his head, and hazily coming back to yours as if he’s becoming high from the air.

“Little queen, I am ancient, even if i couldn’t smell it that you haven’t taken a mate or even a consort yet,” He shakes his head in confusion, “You are wearing that sweet innocence on your being. It is in the way you walk, the way you talk and interact with the world around you,”

“I’ve been.. busy, is all…” You look down before, “Wait, you’ve been… Watching me?” your eyes widen.

“Of course. Such a promising mate for me,” His voice is low and resonates in your body, your breathing picks up even more. You can’t help the heat in your core either. “Run away, little queen,” His toothy grin grows inhumanly wider.

You back up, clawing behind you to guide you as you keep your eyes on him, and he slowly stalks after you.

Fuck! fuck! fuck!

His castle bedroom has a window big enough for even him to fly through, it dwarfs you… Just how big is his dragon form?? you transform and start to fly swiftly away. You have to get away!

You hear his transformation behind you, it whips up the wind giving you a jet stream and his cocky roar vibrates the very air around you.

Good gods! What the fuck!?

You have to turn your head back to look, everything in your bones said to look back, even though you knew you shouldn’t, you couldn’t resist, and that pause gave him enough time to pounce upon you midair.

His ginormous claws rake into your scales, and his teeth find your neck, you roar back at him, threatening him, telling him to stop. His growl shakes your throat, your eyes water. He’s going to do it, he’s really going to steal your virginity. A dragon more than twice your size is mounting you!

“Please!” You shout your voice ringing out through serpentine maw. You feel his tentacle like members slipping under your tail, they lay heavily against your holes. Thankfully they feel wet…

“Beg for me, Little Queen!” the dragon’s voice is thunderous, you think that everyone in the world might hear your shame now. Your people certainly will.

“No!”

Two of his cocks wrap around eachother making a thick drill like shape. While his third lines up stiffly to your asshole, the other two start pushing into your vagina. You desperately flap your wings, until he grabs them and pulls hard, you feel your bones snapping, and scream into the sky.

You feel his heads press deeper and deeper, until something within you breaks, and your body convulses, blood spills even between your dragon thighs. You both spin in the air as you hurdle toward the volcanic ground below. His wings flap once and carry you through the air as he slides fully into you, his third entering your ass at the same time.

your pussy stretches to accommodate him, you suddenly feel so full all at once with the air rushing through your nostrils, you might pass out, but his claws around your sides tighten their grasp, waking you up instantly. No…

You will be shown no mercy.

tears fall down your scaled cheeks.

“Beg for me!”

His dicks drag against your walls, even through the whipping wind around you, you can hear the squelching as he fucks you. You don’t realize but he’s flown you both back to his castle, he lands on top of your body with you crashing into the ground cracking stone and sending a shockwave throughout the castle, and shaking the chandeliers above you.

You watch them sway behind him as he roars still inside of you, he cums. completely filling any crevice left. Just when you were about to sigh in relief he gets back to fucking you. Burying his dicks further inside of you, they hadn’t been all the way inside! His maw finds your shoulder and bites down, blood trickles down your arm.

He flips your significantly smaller body over, and presses a clawed hand on your bulging tummy as his dicks continue to pulverize you.

Until he grabs you by your sides and starts to use your body to fuck himself. Your body burns brighter and brighter until you’re convulsing around him and milking more cum from his still hard cocks pouring more semen inside you at the same time.

Milky white rings are building around his bases in both your holes, but he keeps cumming and using your body, he really does want to breed you! you claw the ground and try to get away again, he just pulls back harder, slamming your body back onto his cocks, it feels like he’s breaking into your cervix!

again he cums his cocks pulsing wildly inside of you, his growling is low, and his hips press as hard into you as physically possible. He pulls out after you cum again, and your body shakes violently needing respite.

you remain as silent as possible, and he returns as a human. He casts something at you that forces your body to twist and shrink until your form matches his, your tiny fleshy prison with the aesthetic matching everything that makes you, you. His over eight feet tall stature stands over you, making you, even as queen feel small and weak.

He grabs you, and pops a cork off of something, and forces a glass bottle into your open mouth. You try and shove him off of you, “It’s a health potion,” He laughs.

“As if I care!!” You’re naked and dripping his cum for the gods’ sakes! “I don’t want anything from you!”

“Youre lucky i don’t just eat you, little queen. i need a brood mother only so much.” He throws you onto the gigantic bed as your wounds are completely healed now, he approaches with a smirk. “These forms are so much fun to play in, aren’t they?”

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Protector

Player 001 x reader [FLUFF]🎀

Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list

You sat eating your food on your bed, you hadn’t made any friends or acquaintances yet after the first game. You noticed other people having and forming little groups and you were alone. You thought about your home, your dummy apartment in Seoul, how you had been alone there, no one to talk to except your cat, Milo. You were a Korean American, born and raised in Seoul by your mother after your father died in the Army, he was the best thing you ever had. He taught you English and A Mexican customs in case you ever made it to America. You didn’t. You remembered to leave Milo with the neighbor under the pretense of going on a trip.

“Señorita, excuse me” the purple haired guy approached you with his little side kick.

“Please leave me alone” you asked politely. “I’d like to eat my food”

“Nah, you’re in the ‘Thanos World’” he said making gestures with his hands.

“And what? You’re so cool no one can eat in your presence? Leave me” you say quietly eating another spoonful.

“How can you eat at a time like this?” Player 124 asked. “After all those bodies I saw, took my appetite. Yet, here you are, eating away.”

“Yes, because I am hungry”

“What are you? Fat?” Thanos poked you. “Come on little piggy, let us see how fat you are since you can’t stop eating.” He pulled at your jacket.

“I asked you to leave me alone” you repeated calmly. You attempted to retreat further into you bed before Player 124 ripped your food out of your hands.

“Hey! Give that back!”

“Not until you show us how fat you” Thanos laughed. He grabbed your jacket and pulled it off, moving to the middle of the room. “Come get it little piggy” he taunted as you got out of your bed. Before you could grab it, Thanos threw your jacket onto the floor.

“Ugh! You asshole” you bent to grab it before Thanos pushed you down.

“I said ‘not until you show us how fat you”

“I’m not fat!” You exclaim. The altercation drawing the attention of everyone, no one moving to help. He got on top of you pulling your shirt off your head.

“Wow, guess you do need to eat more” he laughed loudly. “Look at those ribs” he said as he poked them, making you squirm.

“Hey!” A man shouted. “Didn’t your father ever teach you how to treat a woman? Or are you a bastard?”

“Mind your business old man” Thanos waved him off.

“It’s mealtime, and you’re doing this in front of your elders. Aren’t you embarrassed of yourself?” He neared closer as Player 124 smooshed your food into your face.

“Eat it, eat it, you obviously need the food. Scrawny bitch” your eyes watered from embarrassment. You felt the weight of Thanos get lifted off of you as Young il pushed him.

“ Come on, old man” he rolled his eyes before attempting to fight Young il back, you pushed yourself up and backwards, not minding the fact that you were only in a sports bra. You let yourself get close to the edge the beds before you stood. Too afraid to grab your jacket as food fell off your face. You watched as Player 001 beat both of those men before grabbing your clothes off the floor.

“Here you go” he looked at you with a small smile. You grabbed your shirt and pulled it over yourself shamefully.

“Thank you…”

“Young il” he said as you grabbed your jacket from his outreached hand.

“Thank you Young il” you pulled your jacket on. Distress written all over your face.

“Here come with me, you can have some of my food, since yours is… dripping off of you” he gave a slight chuckle, trying to bring light to your face. You gave a half smile and followed him to his group.

“Gentlemen, this is…”

“annyeong haseyo” you bowed “my name is (y/n) (l/n)”

“annyeong haseyo” said another man. “ I’m Jung bae, and this is Gi-hun” he pointed towards Player 456.

“I’m Dae Ho” he greets.

“Here (y/n), have my rice” Young il says as you sit down.

“You can have my egg” Jung Bae said.

“Take my sausage” Dae ho says dropping it into your tin.

“You can have my milk, i only drink chocolate, i hate plain.” Gi hun hands his carton to you. You smile gratefully as you begin eating.

“Thank you all so much” you say between bites. Young il smiles down at you before looking at Thanos.

As bed time neared Young il approached you. you were standing by your bed between his and another players.

“I don’t feel very comfortable with that Thanos guy prowling around you. I’d like to invite you to sleep with me. So I can keep an eye out for you.”

“Oh you don’t have to, I’ll be okay” you say. “I dont want to inconvenience you”

“It’s no inconvenience at all, I don’t sleep very much” Young il smiles. He gets into his bed, propping his head up on one arm. Patting the empty spot beside him, you reluctantly crawl into his bed. He watched over you as you drifted off, moving softly as to not wake you, he turned Gi hun. “Gi hun?”

“Yeah?

“Thank you for being kind to her” he says. Gi hun nodded. Young il was determined to get you out of this place alive. He didn’t know what it was but he felt a serious need to protect you, to care for you. To keep you alive, dedicating himself as your sole protector. He knew nothing would happen to him, a quick word to the guards and you were protected by the same immunity. He thought about how cute your babies would be. Your big eyes and perfect lips.

His mind flashed to the state of your body. You were so thin he was able to see your ribs and how your collar bone was almost to the point of being visible through your skin. He felt bad, not knowing your past and why you were in that condition. He was going to fix you. He swore it. Planting a gentle kiss to your forehead. You stirred, his eyes widened, hoping he didn’t wake you. You turned into his chest and threw your arm around him, pulling him closer to you. You made a light hum as he wrapped his arm around you, curling his body around yours protectively.

Timeskip: The morning.

You awoke, you turned your head to see Young il snoring softly. You attempted to get up, his arms tighten around you before his eyes opened slowly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you” you say.

“It’s okay. I just thought something was wrong. Instinct i guess” his arms stayed unmoving.

“I’m going to get up”

“Just a few more minutes, the guards haven’t even come in yet” he pleads, giving you puppy eyes.

“Okay, that’s fair” you cuddled back into him, awaiting the PA to announce wake up time. You smiled. “Hey, Young il?”

“Yes?” He spoke.

“I’ve never been held like this before” you voice bashfully.

“Well, I’m glad i get to be the first.” He smiles.

[revelboo]

Oh no, I have a feeling the Scavengers are NOT gonna like their little human asking to go home…

Not particularly

Lifeless Ordinary Pt 6

Scavengers x Reader

• “What do you mean ‘no?’” You demand and Misfire hates that the crook might have been right about it being better not understanding you. Because then he wouldn’t have to listen to this argument, keeping an optic on Spinister as the medic gets increasingly agitated. “I don’t belong here.” No, but if he has his way, you aren’t going anywhere. He likes having you around and that realization surprises him.

• Nervously clicking at the device in his hand, Krok grimaces behind his mask. It’s not like he doesn’t understand why you’re upset, but even if they knew where your world was, he’s not wasting the fuel to get there and risk stranding the ship. “Sorry, tiny. You’re a Scavenger now,” Misfire says, baring his denta when you glare at him. “Deal with it.”

• Hasn’t he taken care of you? Misfire’s the one that kept poisoning you, not him. Spinister reaches for you, curling his servos around you and lifting you to cradle against his neck. Glaring defiantly at the rest of the crew, before carrying you to his quarters. Feels you pushing at him. “Spinister! This is important,” you tell him, frustration evident. So is keeping you happy. You only think you want to go home. Cupping you to him with one hand, he finds your stuffed animal and pushes it at you until you take it with a sigh. “You realize I’m an adult, right?”

• “I’m not stupid,” he growls and you wince at his tone. Because it had honestly occurred to you that the big guy isn’t a genius. Leaning against the warm mesh of his neck, you feel his big servos rubbing against your side and hip. “I just have trouble remembering things. Focusing. I get angry.”

• You lay a small, warm hand against him and he doesn’t know how to explain that it’s a bit easier to focus with you around. That this place feels more like a home with something uniting them. Something they all care about even if the others don’t want to admit it. That he might come apart completely if you try to leave, so he can’t allow it. You’re a good thing. His. He found you. And he’s keeping you.

• “You gonna get their home world’s location from Swindle?” Crankcase asks Krok. Can feel the tension on the bridge. Even Fulcrum looking uneasy as they wait on Krok’s decision. Knows it’d probably be best for you, to go back. Primus, knows they’re awful at caring for an organic. Just a bunch of dysfunctional failures and rejects, the dregs of the Decepticon army. But they’d banded together into something that while still very dysfunctional, he’s willing to fight for. And that little human is a Scavenger now, too. Lost just like the rest of them.

• “Misfire’s right. The human is one of us,” Fulcrum says, knowing that his opinion probably means very little to the others. Too new to them himself, but after a few false starts, they’d accepted him. Made him feel welcome among them. This may not be what you want, but it’s what they need. Spinister and Crankcase are both less volatile with you around. And it’s not just those two, everyone is more relaxed lately. Surely Krok’s noticed that. And it’s not like any of their lives went the way they wanted, but they’re okay. You will be, too.

Previous

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[burningembers91]

War-Torn Love - Baek Kang-Hyuk x Fem!Reader

Please note this storyline will deal with issues of PTSD, and negative body image issues.

Synopsis: Two years ago, Dr Baek Kang-Hyuk saved your life. Separated by war, you've searched for each other since that fateful day. But the war changed you, physically and mentally, and you're no longer sure you're good enough for the man you fell in love with.

A/N: I binged four episodes of The Trauma Code last night am I am OBSESSED!!! Give it a watch on Netflix, it's so, so good.

Some nights, the pain still kept you awake. The searing, burning, tearing agony that ripped its way from your left hip, down across your thigh to the top of your kneecap. The scar was ugly and red, a twisted, knotted mass of tissue that ached when you were too cold, burned when you were too hot, and stretched your skin to almost breaking point every single day. You never wore skirts or dresses anymore, too ashamed and embarrassed for anyone to see the disfigured flesh. You hadn’t had a boyfriend, or even a date in two years. No one would want to be with someone as mangled and broken as you. Some days the stiffness in your leg was so bad that you limped, your figure hunched over like a frail pensioner. You didn’t feel like you anymore. When you looked in the mirror, you saw a woman in the prime of her life, but you felt well past your best.

Even if you did have the courage to date, no one would ever live up to your expectations. You’d had those met and exceeded by the man who had saved your life. You were still walking the earth thanks to one man who had so selflessly put his life on the line to save yours. Two years ago, tired of the mundanity of the everyday and looking to give something back, you decided to volunteer with a small charity, providing assistance to countries ravaged by war. It was your job to help distribute food, clothing and sleeping bags to families escaping conflict. You’d been based in Afghanistan, and that was where you’d met Dr Baek Kang-Hyuk. The man was unstoppable, a force of nature that not even God himself could bring down. He never seemed to stop, never seem to tire. He’d helped countless people, working round the clock to save the lives of men, women, and children.

You’d worked together for six months, a friendship blossoming somewhere between the derelict buildings and war-torn agony. He was quite a reserved man, but during the long, lonely nights, you’d sit and talk while he kept an eye on his patients. You learned he was originally from Seoul, that he’d trained to be a trauma surgeon because he wanted to be just like his dad. He’d spent time in the army and could hit a target point blank with his eyes closed. He was kind, if a little cocky, and he made you feel safe. Somewhere along the line, you felt your friendship change. It was small at first, a little crackle of electricity in the dark night, barely noticeable, but then it slowly burned into something more. Stolen kisses in the corridor of the makeshift hospital, a comforting hug when the world seem a little too heavy. You never took it further than that; you couldn’t afford to be away from the patients for long enough, but you both longed to spend the night together.

You only had a week left of your volunteer work when disaster struck. You’d been heading back to the hospital with a supply of food and water when the car bomb went off only meters from where you stood. You were thrown backwards, your body ravaged by shrapnel and rubble. You don’t remember much about that day; you only remember it was the last time you saw Kang-Hyuk’s face. It had been him who had saved you, him who had stopped the massive arterial bleed, who had given you his own blood in an emergency transfusion on the side of the road. You’d been airlifted to safety shortly after, and that was the last time you saw him.

You had no other information on your saviour, other than his name and the fact he lived in Seoul. He had no social media presence, no Internet presence at all. Once you were out of hospital, you searched desperately for him, phoning all your charity contacts to see if anyone could find him. But you had no luck. You were even desperate enough to travel to Seoul to see if you could find him. For two years you never gave up, setting down roots in the city he called home. You didn’t even know if still lived here, didn’t even know if he was still alive. But you couldn’t give up, not when he’d fought so hard to keep you alive.

You’d taken a job at Hankuk University Hospital in the administration department, slowly building yourself a life, but never really allowing yourself to fully live it. you felt empty without Kang-Hyuk, felt so lost and alone. Those six months you’d spent with him had been the best months of your life, and he’d been ripped away from you so callously.

But fate was a funny thing; and she knew you’d you waited long enough. A new attending trauma surgeon was due to start at the hospital. You weren’t privy to any more information, you administration position making you one of the lowest in the hospital ranks. But as you strolled through the corridors, your left leg dragging ever so slightly behind your right, you saw him. He’d bulked up a little more, his broad chest and shoulders filling out his designer suit. He strode through the hospital with such purpose, his very presence commanding authority. He always had been a cocky bastard, but in the best way possible. He didn’t notice you as he walked, too focused on getting to his destination. But you’d waited so long to see him, and you couldn’t let him slip through your fingers again.

“Baek Kang-Hyuk!” You shouted his name, passersby stopping to stare at you. He turned, a look of annoyance on his chiselled features. But then he saw you, the girl he’d given his own blood to in order to save. The girl he’d spent the last two years trying to find was standing right in front of him. “It’s you,” he choked, closing the gap between you. You didn’t care if people were watching, tears streaming down your face as Kang-Hyuk pulled you into his chest. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered, holding your face between his hands as he took you in. You’d changed since he’d last seen you, the stress and anxiety that had plagued you since that awful day had made their mark on your face, but you were still so beautiful. “I looked for you,” you told him, “I never stopped.” “Neither did I,” he smiled. He wanted to kiss you, wanted to wrap his arms around you and never let go.

“Dr Baek to trauma bay 12,” a voice over the intercom broke through your happy reunion, tearing you apart once again. “Take my number,” he said, thrusting his business card into your hand. “Text me. I can’t lose you again.”

As he hurried down the corridor to the next emergency that awaited him, you looked down at his card. You weren’t the same person you’d been two years ago. You’d change, and not for the better. You were bitter, scared of your own shadow, and ashamed of the body that had been wrecked by the car bomb. You wondered if he’d still want you when he realised your scars hadn’t healed. You wondered if he’d want you when he found out you still woke up at night screaming, your body and sheets soaked in sweat as you relived your fractured memories.

You wrote and rewrote your text to him a dozen times that day, your head and heart battling against one another. Every time you went to press send, the image of your scar-ridden body stopped you. You were damaged goods, and now you’d be working together it was probably best to keep things professional. You didn’t want to risk falling in too deep and getting your heart broken again. I look forward to working with you, Dr Baek. You kept it nice and simple, and wholly professional. Two years you’d been searching for the man you’d fallen in love with. But now that you’d found him again you realised, you’d never stopped to think whether he’d still want you. You were the girl with a broken body and a damaged mind. You’d never seen Kang-Hyuk so much as flinch, but the slightest noise sent you running with your tail between your legs. He was brave, and you were just a scared little mouse.

As much as it broke your heart, you’d keep the man who saved your life at arm’s length and save you both the heartache when you no longer lived up to his expectations.